me,” Monty said after a while, “or do we seem to be looping back around the farmhouse?”
“We are.” Aiden’s voice was grim. “Perhaps its initial sighting was merely a means of drawing you two away from the house.”
“Why would it want to do that, though?” Monty asked. “This isn’t the only homestead in the area—why wouldn’t he hit one of the others, instead of risking capture here?”
“Perhaps an easy kill is not what this thing is after.”
“Meaning there’s a connection between Patrick and Jackson?” I asked.
“They went to the same school.”
I blinked. “They were the same age?”
They certainly hadn’t looked it—though in truth, age was never an easy guess when it came to werewolves, thanks to their longer lives and their regenerative abilities.
“As is John,” Aiden said. “I don’t know if he was in the same class as the other two, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.”
“So our next task,” Monty said, “is finding out what lies in the background of all three that might draw such a brutal death.”
“Such a brilliant idea—why didn’t we think about that?” Aiden’s voice was dry.
“You’ve been hanging around Ashworth too long,” Monty grumbled. “His snark has washed off on you.”
Aiden’s amusement stung the air, but he didn’t say anything. The muddy ground continued to lead us in a wide loop around the back of the farmhouse and, after another five minutes or so, the glimmer of its lights became visible through the trees.
We were maybe a dozen steps away from the fence that divided the heavily treed area from the large paddock surrounding the house, when the pungent aroma of sulfur hit, the scent so strong it made me gag.
I stopped so abruptly, Monty crashed into me. But before either of us could say anything, gunshots shattered the night’s hush.
Chapter Seven
Aiden swore and ran. I followed, the repelling spell pulsing against my fingers, ready to be unleashed. Monty’s magic surged, though I couldn’t immediately place the spell and dared not risk looking over my shoulder lest I fall. But it wasn’t another cage spell—it felt bigger than that. Deadlier than that.
Aiden cleared the fence in a bound. Monty and I were a whole lot less elegant but were nevertheless quickly on his tail. As we bolted across the grass that swept down to the house, the back door opened, and Jaz came flying out.
She saw us and slid to a halt. “Did you see it?”
“See what?” Aiden growled. “Nothing came out that door except you.”
“It wasn’t inside—it was at the window, but ran this way. I can’t smell its trail, though.”
Aiden swore again. “Get back inside, just in case it’s doubling around. Liz, Monty, you sensing anything?”
“No,” Monty said, even as I said, “Yes, this way.”
I darted to the left, heading for the far end of the house. The pungent scent was tenuous, the breeze already tearing it apart. I placed a hand against the end of the house for balance as I slid around the corner, the rough bricks tearing my skin. A flash of white briefly appeared; it was on the bank of the dam, but winked out of existence almost as soon as I’d spotted it. That was the result of a shielding spell, rather than the ability to become invisible, if the brief flare of power across the night was anything to go by.
“It’s over near the dam,” I said.
Aiden sped past me, his form flowing from human to wolf. I swore and reached for more speed in a desperate effort to keep up. While the charm I’d made him should protect him from this thing’s magic, it wouldn’t protect him from a physical assault. He might be a werewolf in his prime, but Patrick had been too.
Monty ran past me, his longer legs giving him an advantage. He raced up the dam’s bank, then tossed a twisted mass of green-and-silver spell threads across the water. Just for an instant, that flash of white appeared, and I saw its face. It was a grotesque mockery that was neither human nor wolf nor anything else I’d ever seen.
Then energy surged, and a black blot hurtled toward Monty’s spell; the two met with enough force that the air vibrated. For a heartbeat, neither spell got the better of the other. Then fingers of black crept over the green-and-silver threads, containing them, erasing them. When there was nothing but darkness left, the blot exploded, and the two spells—as well as the creature—were gone.
I raced past Monty and continued