Magic Misled (Lizzie Grace #7) - Keri Arthur Page 0,5
some interesting things the few nights I was there under her protection.”
He blinked. “Really?”
“Ha!” Belle’s tone was delighted. “I actually managed to shock a werewolf—who’d have thought that was even possible.”
“Oh, I’m not shocked about the whole BDSM thing—people can get their rocks off however they choose as far as I’m concerned. I’m just surprised that the council allowed it to operate within the reservation without strict oversight and control.”
“How do you know they didn’t have oversight?” I asked mildly. “It’s not like they mentioned who owned Émigré until they absolutely had to.”
“True. And we’ve gotten way off track.” He paused for a moment, his expression suddenly serious. “I actually came here to tell you—”
He cut the rest off as his phone rang sharply. He dragged it out of his pocket and hit the answer button. “Tala, what’s up?”
Tala was his second-in-command and the very definition of a no-nonsense werewolf. She and I hadn’t exactly gotten off on the right foot, mainly because she’d utterly believed all psychics were charlatans, but she had eventually—and graciously—admitted she was wrong. We might never be firm friends, but we were at least on friendlier terms these days.
“I’m here with her now. Hang on.” He lowered the phone, his gaze on mine. “There’s been a report of a kid wandering up near Fryer’s Ridge. Tala and Mac have spent the last few hours scouting the area, with little success. They did find a torn bit of shirt, but there’s no scent attached and no trail or prints to follow. Do you mind going out there to see if you can help?”
I frowned. “Has anyone reported a kid missing?”
“No.”
“Then why is Tala so sure it’s not a prank of some kind?”
“Because the report came from Patrick Sinclair, a friend of mine.”
“Ah. Okay.”
As he gave Tala the affirmative, I quickly gulped down the rest of my hot chocolate and pushed the half-eaten cake toward Belle. “I’ll be back for that later.”
“No, you won’t,” Aiden said, “You live with me now, remember?”
“Oh yeah.” I grinned. “Tomorrow then.”
“You might also want to rug up—it’s getting damn cold up in the hills now that autumn is on the wane.”
“Winter’s only five days away.” Belle said, amused. “That’s a little more than ‘on the wane.’”
“Maybe to you soft city types.”
I rolled my eyes as their banter continued, and ran up the stairs to grab not only a coat, but also gloves, a wooly hat, and a scarf. Thankfully, I still had plenty of them here in my wardrobe, simply because I actually owned a ton of them. I hated winter. Or rather, hated being cold. Which was a bit of a laugh considering we’d settled in one of the coldest areas in country Victoria.
Once rugged up, I headed back downstairs to grab the backpack—which we now kept fully stocked and ready to go with all manner of potions, charms, and my silver knife—then returned to the café’s dining area.
Aiden swung around and offered me his arm, then said over his shoulder as we left, “Hope you and Monty have a good night, Belle.”
“It’s not a date. We’re only going to the movies together,” she said, voice dry.
“Every would-be couple has to start somewhere,” he said.
A spoon came flying across the room, and he ducked, laughing. As he opened the door, I bent to pick it up and then tossed it back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“It’s just the movies.”
“Of course it is.”
I followed Aiden out the door, locked it behind me, and then tucked my arm through his again. He’d parked his truck farther up the road, as there was a no-standing zone at the front of the café. As head ranger, he couldn’t be seen to be breaking the rules. Not too often, anyway.
Seriously, Belle continued, it’s not.
Why does it actually matter either way?
Because I once swore to hate blue-blood males for all eternity and to never go out with one.
I blinked. You did? When was this?
After Tommy Kang sprayed me with white dye.
I don’t remember that. Or Tommy Kang, for that matter.
It happened before we were matched as witch and familiar.
I hope you gave him a piece of your mind.
My mind wasn’t as strong then. He got my fist instead.
I smiled. For what it’s worth, Monty’s already told me in great detail his grand plans for the first official “we are an item” date. A jaunt to the movies pales in comparison.
There was a long mental pause. Care to detail said grand plan?