Magic Misled (Lizzie Grace #7) - Keri Arthur Page 0,109
runs down the side of the old theater.
Thanks.
I ran through the parking area and into the lane, leaping over puddles and the various bits of rubbish that generally accumulated in old lanes like this. There was no sign of trailing magic now, and the scent was fading fast. Whoever it was, they could definitely run.
I hit Hargraves Street, did a quick two-step to avoid a woman with a pram, then stopped and spun around.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I swore and stalked back into the lane.
Anything? Belle said.
Nope. Lost the trail.
Fuck … do you think it could have been Honor?
No. The scents staining the air weren’t hers. I think they were male in origin.
It wouldn’t be your dad, would it?
Why would he hide? He’d march right in, announce his presence, and demand whatever the hell he was here to demand.
Which suggests your psi senses believe our unknown watcher is here to demand something.
Who knows? It’s not like they’ve ever been overly generous with information.
True. She hesitated. Could it have been Juli?
Why on earth would my brother come down here? He never cared all that much about me when I was a kid, and I doubt that’s changed.
Except you now have wild magic and might well be useful.
It was a totally possible supposition, of course, but I just couldn’t see my pampered and rather spoiled brother leaving the safe confines of my father’s “kingdom” up in Canberra.
That kingdom teeters on the edge, remember. Maybe that motivated him.
Then why would he run?
Maybe he wasn’t ready to confront you just yet. Or maybe he simply didn’t want witnesses and decided to try again later.
I still think hell would have to freeze over before my brother moved his butt out of Canberra. Although with my family, anything was possible.
As I neared the café again, my senses twitched. I stopped and studied the surrounding area. The usual amount of traffic rolled down the street, but shoppers were a little sparse, no doubt thanks to the bite in the wind. There was nothing to indicate anyone was watching and no visible sign of magic.
I’m not sensing anything untoward now, Belle said. There’s certainly no one within scanning range that has any interest in either you or the café.
And yet my senses continued to twitch. I did another sweep of the area, but couldn’t spot whatever it was setting off the internal alarms.
I sighed in frustration and headed back into the café. Penny glanced at me, her eyebrows raised in query. I gave her a smile, said, “It’s all good,” and then headed into the reading room. Belle rattled down the stairs and followed me in. After placing a number of charms that would ward off evil—none of which Honor would sense until she was close—into the backpack, we headed out. Aiden appeared a few minutes later. I tossed the pack into the footwell and then climbed into the front seat. Belle shoved several boxes across to the other side of the back seat and then climbed in.
“Where are we headed?” I asked.
He checked the side mirrors and pulled out. “We’ve got him in temporary accommodation in Louton.”
“And is that where we’ll set the trap?” Belle said.
Aiden shook his head. “The place belongs to a friend, so I’d rather not, just in case things get nasty.”
“And it might,” I said. “It just depends on what her mental state is.”
“Which does nothing to ease my concern.” He cast another of those dark, broody expressions my way, but it probably had the opposite effect to what he wanted, given how damn sexy it made him look. “We’ll set the trap back at his house. The roof is high enough to move around in with some ease, and there’s plenty of spots for the rest of us to lie in wait out of immediate sight.”
“Immediate may not be good enough,” I said. “Remember what she is.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m not forgetting.”
Neither was I, even if he seemed to think so.
The safe house turned out to be a small weatherboard miner’s cottage with a rusting tin roof and very little in the way of tall shrubs and trees around it—which no doubt made it easier to spot intruders.
Once Aiden parked out the front, we all climbed out and headed through the old picket gateway. The front door opened as we stepped up onto the veranda, and Tala appeared. “He’s in a mood. He wants out.”
“Well, we’re about to offer him a means of that happening.”