Magic Misled (Lizzie Grace #7) - Keri Arthur Page 0,78

eyebrow. “Is that also written in the stars?”

His grin flashed. “Text when you get in position.”

Aiden turned and moved into the neighboring property. The driveway was lined with red-tipped lilly pillies that provided a thick shield from the old house. The gate dividing the front yard from the back made no sound when Aiden pushed it open, and no dogs came running at us. Luck, it seemed, was feeling friendly tonight.

We found a slight break in the lilly pilly screen and swiftly climbed over the fence. My movements were a little hampered thanks to the length of Monty’s shoes, but thankfully Aiden was on the other side to catch me.

The rear yard was as overgrown as the front. Not only was the grass at least three feet high, but scotch thistles and several other thorny weeds grew with wild abandon. An old metal shed lay to our immediate left, and across the other side of the yard were remnants of a clothesline. The house itself looked to be in reasonable condition, although thick clumps of weeds dominated the spouting and the steps onto the porch had, at some point in the past, given way.

Aiden sent Monty the text. The faintest spark of magic rose, then immediately fell away. I had no idea what spell he was using, but surely if I could no longer sense its presence, the rogue wouldn’t.

Tension wound through me all the same, and it was all I could do to keep still. Time ticked by, but nothing stirred within the house. It remained as dark and as silent as a grave.

Goose bumps crawled down my spine; I really, really hoped that wasn’t what we were about to find.

A message flashed up on Aiden’s phone. I peered around his arm to read it.

No magic, no sense that anything living lies within.

Then we go in, Aiden replied.

Meet you in the middle.

Aiden tucked the phone away, then glanced at me. “Ready?”

I nodded and followed him across the yard, keeping in his footprints as much as possible to avoid tripping over whatever the grass might be hiding.

We avoided the broken section of the steps easily enough and walked over to the back door. The screen door creaked as Aiden opened it, and he froze, his body tense.

There was no response of any kind from within the house.

Either she wasn’t here, as Monty’s spell had indicated, or she was wrapped in some sort of disguising magic, waiting to attack. Although she didn’t have to do that magically—not given how fast she apparently was.

The back door was locked. Aiden moved to one side and motioned to me to proceed. I quickly spelled it open and then stepped through, a repelling spell forming around my fingertips. This auto spell-creation feature I seemed to have gained was both disturbing and handy.

The air was old and smelled faintly of rot and damp—both suggesting that perhaps the roof was leaking. Very little in the way of moonlight came through any of the nearby windows, but I could nevertheless see well enough to pick out the broken bits of furniture from the other drifting piles of rubbish.

We’d entered into what was basically a sunroom that separated the bathroom to our left and another room to our right. A quick check proved both were empty of anything other than mold and rubbish.

We moved up the three steps that led us into a hallway that ran the full length of the house. The front door opened, and Monty stepped through. He gave us a thumbs-up, then motioned toward the room on his right and went in.

We checked the nearest room—it had once been a galley kitchen with windows that looked into the sunroom, but only a few cupboards and what looked to be one of those old-fashioned wood stoves remained. The room on the opposite side of the hall was a largish living area with an old, smoke-stained fireplace that hadn’t seen recent use.

We moved back into the hall. Monty came out of a different room, shook his head, and slipped into the last room. We followed.

And found not only death, but also the rogue’s lair.

Chapter Twelve

On a grimy mattress that didn’t quite cover the metal bedframe lay the bones of a woman. Or I presumed it was a woman, given the remnants of the nightgown that still covered part of her body. A pile of blankets and a pillow lay beside those bones, and both looked far newer than anything else in the room. A second, much grimier-looking