Bait N' Witch (Brimstone Inc. #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,38

it?”

“Yes.”

The lights flickered as he whispered his spell, and a tug pulled through his body as his energy depleted in order to feed the complicated cast he attempted.

Closing his eyes, immediately he was transported inside the memory, seeing a new scene as if he were Leia—experiencing every sense as she did, every emotion, every nuance, exactly how she’d lived it. She and Castor stood in a flat field, facing the ancient werewolf, Kaios.

Behind him, out of the darkness, a line of wolf shifters, already shifted into their animal form, advanced upon them. Castor stepped closer and took her hand, presenting a united front. Above them, the skies darkened with the warning of the demigod’s wrath, swirling with dark clouds.

“Oh, I have a way to deal with you.” Kaios turned to signal someone over his shoulder. A woman with deep red hair stepped out of her hiding spot. She raised her arms and whispered words Leia couldn’t catch. The clouds cleared in an instant, returning to the blue skies of moments before.

Castor’s hand twitched in Leia’s.

The woman closed her eyes, her face a study of regret. Leia got the impression the woman would rather be anywhere than here right now.

“I’m sorry,” the woman mouthed at her, misery pinching her face.

The woods were eerily quiet—no bird chirped, no animals scurried through the underbrush. They’d all gone into hiding.

Done with the memories involving the witch, as far as Leia knew, Greyson watched as Leia killed Kaios. Frustration shot through him as, fighting ended, she returned to the cabin with no trace of the witch to be seen.

Releasing her hands, Greyson opened his eyes to find the others watching in silent curiosity. “Right. Marrok, you’re next.”

Castor’s perspective would be too much like Leia’s. He’d still check it, but first he wanted a different viewpoint.

Repeating the steps he had taken with Leia, an even stronger surge of energy was required to access the alpha werewolf’s memories. Spelling a person who possessed powers or abilities always took more.

Marrok’s memories of the same scene started from within the trees. Kaios’s appearance and the start of the fight up until Castor disappeared with Leia were similar. Again, the witch’s contrition and reluctance appeared genuine and obvious.

Experiencing the memory from Marrok’s perspective, the shifter’s heightened sense of smell caught the trace of the witch’s scent, and Greyson jerked. The light floral wildflowers and honey reminded him of someone.

Rowan.

But it couldn’t be.

Shock clawed at him as he took a closer look at the witch standing miserably behind Kaios. No. He would’ve recognized her sooner. The witch in their memories held some similarities, the same dark red, curling hair, similar height and build. But her face appeared nothing like Rowan, and her eyes were green instead of gray.

Relief surged through him, and he continued watching from Marrok’s point of view.

After he and Tala dealt with a few of the rogue wolf shifters helping Kaios, Marrok searched the trees for the redheaded witch who’d been holding Castor’s powers at bay. Had she done the same to the nymphs? If so, what stopped her now?

Sure enough, Castor stood over the witch’s limp form. Lightning sprang from the demigod’s fingertips, blinding in brilliance, crackling with power, the scent of burned ozone rancid in his nose, overpowering the earthy scents of wolf shifters and underlying metal of blood. The electricity in the air had Marrok’s fur standing on end. With a boom of thunder, Castor fried the wolf closest to him, but he left the witch unharmed, beyond knocking her unconscious. Good. Marrok’s impression was the woman had been forced to use her magic against them.

No other memories of the witch.

Greyson released Marrok’s memories and turned to his mate. The energy required to access Tala’s memories surprised him, as the amount was greater than what he’d needed for her mate, which was interesting, but irrelevant to his purposes. Tala’s memories confirmed Marrok’s. Finally, he turned to Castor. By the time he finished with the demigod, Greyson’s entire body shook from the effort. He clenched his fists at the sensation, trying to keep the spots dancing behind his eyes at bay.

And his frustration had only grown. At least now he knew what the witch looked like. However, none of the four had seen what happened to her after Kaios’s death. They’d been telling him the truth, as now he’d seen with his own eyes—through their perspective, but still confirmation.

Damn. Now what?

He’d hoped some clue might present itself, giving him a next step in his hunt. But