we find her.”
There was no question about that. Our rogue might be many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. “If the amount of blood she’s losing is any indicator, her wounds are really bad. She’ll have to seek help—”
“That would depend entirely on whether she has the werewolf ability to heal.”
“That happens during shifting shape, though, and everything we know about her suggests she can’t.”
“Except we don’t fucking know a whole lot about her.” Jaz sighed and thrust a hand through her hair. “Sorry, don’t mean to bite.”
I smiled. “It’s okay. I get the anger.”
The older woman leaned back against my knees, but a quick look revealed she was simply getting a little more comfortable. The potion was obviously kicking in. While it did do an amazing job of curtailing pain, this particular one also had a “floaty, I’m on a high” side effect. “You okay, Mrs.—?”
“Grantham,” she said in a much stronger voice. “And thank you for that potion—I’m feeling much better.”
“That’s good, but I wouldn’t be moving around too much, as I think you’ve broken your wrist.” Jaz squatted down beside her. “The ambulance should be here in a few minutes. In the meantime, are you able to tell me what happened?”
“There’s really not that much to tell—it was all over so very quickly.”
“You still need to recount what happened. Even the tiniest detail might help us track her down.”
“She ran straight in front of me from the side of those buildings over there.” She motioned briefly with her good hand to two nearby metal sheds on the other side of the road. “I hit her—couldn’t help it, you know? I wasn’t going fast, but still—”
“It’s okay, Mrs. Grantham,” Jaz said soothingly. “We know the accident isn’t your fault.”
“You’ll say that to my insurance company?”
“Yes, of course. What happened next?”
“Well, I hit her, didn’t I? Sent her tumbling. But before I could get out and see if she was okay, she was ripping open my door and hauling me out.”
“Can you tell me anything about her? Her looks, her build, any outstanding features?”
“Well, as I said, it was all too fast.” She paused. “She did have a tattoo on her cheek—a snake wrapped around a scythe.”
Which at least confirmed what Jenny had already told us. I glanced around at the sound of an approaching siren and saw the ambulance turning into the nearby entrance.
“Anything else?” Jaz asked.
“Not really. But you might want to check the Thaumaturge Society. They should be able to track down whose mark that is.”
My gaze snapped back to her, and I blinked in surprise. “You’re a witch, Mrs. Grantham?”
She laughed. “Of course not. But I am a former magician and was a card-carrying member of the society back in the day. I do believe they have an index of black arts marks, though it wasn’t something a general member like me had access to.”
“I don’t suppose you could give us a contact name or number of someone we could speak to in the society?” I asked.
She shook her head. “It’s been a good ten years since I was involved with them. Most of the people I knew would have long retired. Sorry.”
“That’s no problem, Mrs. Grantham,” Jaz said. “At least you’ve given us somewhere to start.”
“Glad to have helped.” She waved her good hand again. “I do believe you’ll be seeing me at your café more often, young lady. That potion is absolutely brilliant—might need some for the rheumatoid.”
“We do have a couple of specific options for arthritis that’ll probably suit you better.” And without the floaty side effect—although maybe that was what she liked.
“Excellent news.”
The ambulance pulled up, and the two paramedics climbed out. Once Jaz had filled them in, I told them what I’d given her and then got out of their way.
“So, what the hell is the Thaumaturge Society?” Jaz asked.
“From what I understand, it’s a private society that promotes and celebrates all things magic.”
“Human or witch?”
“I had thought witches, but Mrs. Grantham’s comment suggests they’re more human illusionists—though I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them were part witches.”
“That happens?”
“Yes, but more with the lower witch houses than the royal.” One of the medics slammed the ambulance’s rear door closed, then hopped into the driver seat. As the engine roared to life, I added, “If the society is cataloging maker marks then they’re obviously a whole lot more than what they let everyone believe.”
“You think they’ll help us track down the rogue’s mark, if that is what she’s wearing