Magic Misled (Lizzie Grace #7) - Keri Arthur Page 0,11

in the process. But what if the spell hadn’t been the problem? What if it had been the wild magic itself? Had it formed a connection to the earth’s energy via the spell in much the same manner as my inner wild magic?

Gabe had warned that if I kept using the wild magic in extreme ways—such as when I’d propped up Émigré’s collapsing ceiling and walls to save Aiden and the others trapped in the basement—it would, each time, take me longer to recover. What he hadn’t mentioned was whether it could do to me what it had done to him. But maybe he figured he didn’t need to, given my own nebulous certainty at the time that the connection made me more even as it made me less.

Which did tie in somewhat to Aiden’s comment. Perhaps it wasn’t so much an all-consuming explosion of flesh I had to worry about, but rather using so much energy that it consumed every part of me, gradually dissolving flesh until I became nothing more than a spirit.

After what had happened here tonight, it did seem a more likely scenario. I guessed the question then was, how far could I safely push its use before that eventuated?

To which Belle would no doubt have replied, quit trying to test the limit and just live in the safety zone.

Which was sensible, of course. Problem was, I wasn’t entirely sure this reservation would allow sensible.

I grimaced, then carefully brushed a sleeve across my eyes, wiping away the tears and the lingering remnants of blood. My eyes were aching—no doubt the aftereffect of blood vessels erupting—but my vision was at least clearing. I couldn’t help wondering if the faster pace of healing was a result of the wild magic or my merges with Katie.

Of course, those merges would never make me a full werewolf, which was a damn shame given it was probably the only thing that would save my relationship with Aiden.

I once again thrust the thought away. Live for the moment, I admonished myself sternly. Enjoy what you have rather than worrying about what might be.

Which was fine in theory, but I’d spent most of my adult life doing the latter rather than the former. It was damnably hard to switch direction.

I sighed, then carefully bent and picked up my boots. After tugging on my socks, I pulled on my boots, wincing as my bruised and battered feet protested the tight confines. The earth magic might have allowed me to travel without tripping, but it sure as hell hadn’t offered any form of protection.

It was a good half hour before Aiden returned, though I smelled him well before I heard or saw him. The faint breeze sweeping up from the valley below not only filled my nostrils with his warm, musky scent, but also the stench of blood and death.

Which only made me wonder exactly how Patrick had died. I might have felt the weight of his body and his blood on the earth, but the manner in which he’d died hadn’t been revealed in any of the images I’d been given. Maybe that was because I’d been seeking a location rather than a cause. Even so, it was pretty evident his death had been neither quick nor easy.

Aiden appeared, his face in shadows but his hair glinting silver in the moon’s wan light. While most Australian wolf packs were amber-eyed and brown, red, or black in color, the O’Connors were the rarer blue-eyed gray wolves. Their hair—and their coats when in wolf form—ran the full gamut of that color, from being so dark it could be mistaken for brown to the lightest of silvers. Aiden’s pack tended toward the brighter end of the scale.

“It was Patrick.” Though his voice was even, his hands were clenched. Fighting for control. To not react in anger or hurt or pain. To keep all those things distant so he could keep doing his job.

“Bad?”

“Yes.” He paused. “You didn’t see it in your visions?”

I shook my head. “Just that he was dead and that it hadn’t been natural.”

“I guess that’s something.” He drew in a breath and released it slowly. “It actually looks as if he’s been attacked by an animal. Teeth and claw marks everywhere.”

“Could they have been done after death?”

“Possibly, but I personally doubt it. There’s too much blood staining the ground for it to be an after-death assault.”

“Does that mean he was attacked by another wolf?”

Aiden scraped a hand across his jaw. “It’s a possibility. It