we try to pin this bitch down, just in case things go pear-shaped.”
Ashworth nodded. “Let us know where you’re setting the trap, and the laddie and I will meet you there.”
“I do so love it when you make decisions for me,” Monty said, his voice dry. “I mean, it’s not like this is my job rather than yours.”
“It may be your job, but you’re but a babe when it comes to experience.” Though Ashworth’s tone was stern, amusement creased the corners of his eyes. “But I’m more than willing to share my knowledge in the hope that one day you’ll make a decent reservation witch.”
Monty grinned but didn’t bite back. Instead, his gaze went to Belle, who immediately raised a warning finger. “One step, and there’ll be brain freeze.”
He laughed. “I’m thinking our marriage is never going to be boring.”
“And I’m thinking you remain delusional.”
He laughed again and headed out. Ashworth quickly finished his coffee and then followed him down the stairs. I glanced at Aiden. “Are we going to set the trap immediately after talking to John?”
He nodded. “I’ll head over to the station to grab all the electronics we’ll need. I’ll meet you out the front in twenty.”
“Well,” Ava said as he left, “you four certainly have an interesting dynamic.”
I smiled. “They’re family on so many levels.”
“Young Monty is definitely thinking about family, but not, I suspect, in the sense you meant that, Lizzie.”
“Mom,” Belle groaned. “Can you just quit it?”
Ava’s smile grew. “Unlikely. He’s perfect for you in every way, my dear, and I will nag until you see sense.”
“Just as well you’re going home in a couple of days then,” Belle said.
“I’m quite able to nag long-distance and have no doubt Monty will keep me updated on progress.” She paused, expression thoughtful. “Although I’m not really after graphic details when it comes to the consummation of your relationship. There are some things best left to imagination.”
“He would do that, too, wouldn’t he?” Belle said, with another groan. “The man has no shame.”
“When it comes to you, none at all. But be warned, dear heart, he’s also no fool, as much as he plays it. He won’t hang around forever.”
Belle didn’t reply, but her expression was thoughtful.
I scooped up the last of my cake, then rose. “I’ll head downstairs and pack everything we might need. You might want to change, Belle—remember we’ll be up in the rafters.”
She shuddered. “If there’re rats, I’m not going to be happy.”
“Rats tend to be scarce during winter,” Ava said.
“That might be true for the wider world, but in this reservation, anything is possible.” She glanced at me. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
I nodded and headed down. But as my foot hit the bottom step, an odd sense of awareness stirred. My heart skipped several beats and then raced.
Someone was here. Someone I knew.
Someone who stank of anger.
Chapter Sixteen
I froze and scanned the café. While I did know several of the couples sitting at various tables, they were regular customers and not the source of the gathering trepidation.
I stepped down and walked slowly through the café, absently smiling and greeting people as I looked for the presence I was sensing.
Still nothing.
“Everything all right, Liz?” Penny said.
I jumped slightly and turned around. As I did, a flicker caught my eye—magic. Concealing magic. Outside, in the lane between our building and the next.
“Yeah,” I said, and ran past her for the door. Belle, there’s someone in the lane disguising themselves with magic. Can you read them?
Hang on. She paused. Found them, but they’re wearing a shield and moving away too quickly for a concerted attempt to break through.
Fuck. The bell chimed loudly as I threw the door open and darted for the lane. Does the magic surrounding him or her feel familiar?
Not really. Why?
Because according to my psi senses, I know whoever it is.
I reached the lane and spotted the trailing end of the spell disappearing around the corner. I swore again and belted after it, desperate to catch whoever it was before they utterly escaped. A scent caught in my nostrils, one that spoke of subtle floral undertones warmed by woody notes and a hint of rosewood. Not the scent of anyone I knew here in the reservation. Whether it was the scent of someone from my past, I couldn’t say. Not just because my memory wasn’t that detailed, but also because it was only recently that my sense of smell had become close to werewolf sharp.
Your watcher is heading for the lane that