Magic Misled (Lizzie Grace #7) - Keri Arthur Page 0,41
werewolf. They weren’t magic sensitive, even if there was magic in their souls.
Monty slid to a stop beside me. “Where is it?”
“Gone. I tried to place a tracking spell, but the damn thing sensed it.”
“Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “It’ll no doubt come back the minute we leave.”
“Doesn’t that depend on why it was here?” I hurried toward the spot where I’d last seen the figure. If magic had been involved in its sudden disappearance, there should be some lingering evidence of it. “It’s not exactly following the pattern of the last two kills, is it?”
Monty fell in step beside me. “The last two didn’t have a pattern—other than being out in the bush.”
“And the reports of a crying child in the area.”
“There’s no evidence yet that those reports are in any way connected.”
I glanced at him, eyebrows raised. “Do you really think it’s a coincidence that both Patrick and Jackson mentioned it?”
“Well, no, but my opinion doesn’t make it fact.”
“Until we uncover what we’re dealing with, opinions are all we have.”
“True.” He stopped in front of the tree that held the fading remnants of my tracking spell and scanned the ground. It wasn’t only muddy, but pretty chewed up. “It looks to me like something heavy caused that.”
A distant siren began to cut through the otherwise quiet night. “The thing I saw was small, though. I wouldn’t have thought it had the bulk to cause such deep impressions in the ground.”
His gaze shot to mine. “You saw it? Clearly saw it?”
“Well, not clearly, but it was very definitely humanoid in shape and just as clearly misshapen.”
“Misshapen how?”
“It was small, ran with a limp, and was oddly hunched over.” I shrugged. “I only caught a glimpse, Monty.”
“Which is more than Jackson got, and he was facing the thing when it gutted him.”
“And maybe the reason he didn’t see it is because this thing uses dark magic. I smelled it over near the water tank.”
“You smelled it?”
“Yeah.” I grimaced. “The wild magic is enhancing my senses, remember?”
“Yes, but I’ve never read anything that has suggested magic has a smell.”
“And the general stuff doesn’t—at least as far as I’m aware,” I said. “But dark magic has a definite and rather pungent sulfur aroma.”
“Huh.” He half turned as light briefly swept the strand of trees we were in. “That’ll be Aiden, I’m guessing.”
“And what gave that away?” My voice was dry. “Was it the red and blue lights, the siren, or the color of his truck?”
He raised his eyebrows, a smile twitching his lips. “Aren’t you in fine form tonight? Any particular reason?”
“Nothing other than the fact I delight in making fun of dumb statements.”
He snorted softly. “Watch it, or I’ll return the favor.”
I grinned. “Bring it on, Cousin.”
Two doors slammed, then stones crunched as Aiden moved toward us. He’d obviously sent whoever was with him into the house.
He appeared a few seconds later; his gaze scanned us both, then moved to the torn-up ground at our feet. “Whatever left those tracks doesn’t smell right.”
“If you can smell it, you can follow it, right?” Monty said.
Aiden nodded. “Is it safe to leave Jaz and John in the house without magical protection?”
“They’re not unprotected,” I said. “Samuel’s in there.”
His gaze shot to mine. “Why is he out here?”
“Said he needed to talk to the owner.”
“About the bombing? Because John is the last person who would have ever gone into Émigré; trust me on that.”
“Apparently he delivered some goods half an hour before the bomb went off.”
Aiden grunted. It was not a happy sound. “When were you talking to Samuel?”
“He came to see me this afternoon.”
Aiden studied me through slightly narrowed eyes. The alpha wolf, I suspected, didn’t like having another male hanging around.
He didn’t say anything, though. He just made a quick call to Jaz, then moved into the trees, following the muddy footprints. They drew us deeper into the forest and the shadows, but I had no sense of the being we were tracking, and the pungent scent of darker magic wasn’t evident in the air. Of course, that could just be because the breeze was strong enough to draw it away, but something within me doubted it. And if that something was right, it meant that this thing was able to switch the dark magic on and off at will—and that was extremely unusual. For the most part, dark spells involved the use of blood—they couldn’t just be spoken, not in the same manner as regular spells.