Awakening the Fire - By Ally Shields Page 0,89

but right now she couldn’t think of one.

Ari grimaced.

And then he did laugh.

“That’s why you wanted to leave. You knew what was coming. Have you been there before?”

“Yes.” His eyes still twinkled.

“More than once?”

“That sounds like a loaded question.” He looked at her with a grin. “And I have better sense than to answer.”

* * *

By the second evening, they were running out of places to look. With no verified sightings, despite her “possible” from the night before, Ari began to think the pack had returned to Canada. She and Andreas had worked the side streets this evening. The next stop was Tillie’s, a small bar and grill patronized mostly by weretigers. It was definitely off the tourist beat.

The owner’s immediate response to the photos sent Ari’s blood rushing.

“Yeah, I seen them. Recognize the woman.” The owner pointed to Sheila’s photo. “Heavy accent. Came in here two or three nights in a row. Ordered from the tap. But I suspected they were selling drugs. Told ’em to leave. Don’t need the police shutting me down.”

“Have they been back?” she asked.

The barkeep shook his head. “No, ma’am. Not since.”

“Did you get the impression they live nearby?” Andreas asked.

The owner scratched his head. “Can’t say about that. But the first night they asked about pizza. Told ’em about the carryout joint two blocks over. That’s where they headed from here. Maybe the pizza folks can help you.”

Ari was out the door almost before the barkeep finished. She sprinted the two blocks, Andreas easily matching her stride. But their luck ran out again. The pizza guy had no trouble remembering the wolves, but they’d used pick-up—not delivery. And paid cash. Another dead end. It proved the wolves were still in town, but that was all.

Tired and let down over the fizzled lead, Ari said good night and trudged home. So far they’d used good, old-fashioned police work, tromping around Olde Town, interviewing potential witnesses, and they had next to nothing to show for their efforts. Maybe it was time to try a little witchcraft. Scrying wasn’t exactly one of her best talents, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

Arriving at her apartment, she opened the cedar chest that doubled as her coffee table, pulled out the scrying bowl, and selected a small crystal pedant. While she’d never located people by this method, she’d found inanimate objects a few times. Well, once or twice. She knew people were harder. The searching spell worked best when the practitioner had personal items from the target—which Ari didn’t have. She’d heard that sometimes images worked, and she had the police photos.

She uncapped a bottle of blessed water and poured two inches in the bowl. Her biggest obstacle was the absence of a foolproof spell. For Ari, that meant she needed the missing family journal, the Book of Shadows. Lacking that, she could only borrow what had worked for her witch mentor in St. Louis.

Ari darkened the room and lit the candles of the four elements. Holding the police photos in one hand and slowly swinging the pendant with the other, she concentrated on the water and summoned the Goddess. Forming the image of Sheila inside her head, she repeated the she-wolf’s name three times, asking the Goddess to grant her wish. The water swirled and clouded, but despite Ari’s repeated efforts, it remained opaque, unreadable.

After an hour, she gave up the effort and went to bed. As she lay there still awake, she was glad she hadn’t mentioned the attempt to Andreas. It was bad enough she had to live with her failures. It would be worse if others knew. Good thing she didn’t have to depend on the witchcraft.

* * *

Since they had confirmed the enemy pack was still in town, Ari arrived early at the compound on Saturday morning. It was no longer a question of whether the wolves would attack again, but where and when. She wanted to share the news with her team and make sure they were ready.

When Maleban hadn’t arrived by six, Ari called his home and cell without getting a response. Tension spread through the security room as everyone began to realize something was wrong. Concerned about splitting her team or leaving the compound a man short, Ari refused to send one of them to check his residence. She finally called police dispatch for an assist. Within minutes, they reported no one was home. The patrol officers agreed to cruise the neighborhood for anything unusual.

When Ari disconnected, she shook her head.

“This

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