Black Hat, White Witch (Black Hat Bureau #1) - Hailey Edwards Page 0,22
don’t want to regress.”
“Your mother ran with our pack on the full moon.” She laughed at the memory. “Naked as a jaybird.”
That woke me up with a cringe. “What did Dad think of that?”
“This was before your father tamed some of her wildness.” She curled her lip. “The point is, you are your mother’s daughter. You’ll always have her fierce spirit. Your father was a good man.” She rolled a hand. “As far as black witches go.” She shook her head. “I can’t blame him for falling in love with her. What she saw in him? That, I’ll never know, but God as my witness, she loved him more than anything. Until you.”
“I have to walk a path that doesn’t haunt me for the rest of my life.”
Curling smoke cast shadows onto her features. “I know, darling.”
“This contract is as good as it gets for people like me.”
“It’s a breadcrumb.” Her mouth pinched. “Follow that path, and you know where it leads.”
Right back to the loaf. Or maybe the bakery? One or the other.
“Clay says they’ve got a Silver Stag copycat. He—or she—is taking young girls in groups of four.”
“Albert couldn’t have baited his hook better if he cut them to chum the waters himself.”
That painted a vivid mental picture I wouldn’t soon forget. “Do you think he’s involved?”
“No,” she sighed her disappointment. “Black Hat’s reputation for training monsters to hunt their own is his legacy. He would never tarnish the Bureau’s reputation and would kill to keep its record spotless.”
“I’m going to finish this counteroffer then crash.” I rubbed itchy eyes. “Thanks for your help.”
“Next time, dial me up for a chat.” She flicked ash off her cigarette. “It doesn’t have to be all business.”
“I will,” I promised, and I meant it. “Night, Megara.”
“Good night, darling.”
Careful not to spill water on my bed, I carried the mixing bowl to the bathroom to pour down the drain.
Leave a metaphysical doorway open and who knew what might drift through it. The same rules applied to scrying. People who wielded black magic didn’t live long if they got sloppy with it.
With the bowl drained, washed, and set on the sink to dry, I climbed back into bed to organize my notes.
An hour later, I was happy to scan the pages with my phone and email them to Asa to hand up the chain.
So close to dawn, I didn’t expect an immediate response from him, but I got one.
A text.
>>I apologize for my behavior.
As much as I would love to claim I fired off a quip about how he always seemed to be apologizing to me, I debated how to answer until I fell asleep.
Morning came seconds after my head hit the pillow. That was how it felt, anyway. I strangled my phone, which was bleating its usual time for work alarm, until it shut up and left me alone.
“Hey.”
The tiny whisper almost brought tears to my eyes. I did not want to get out of bed yet.
“Hey, Rue.”
Maybe if I ignored it, it would go away.
“The daemon from last night is on our porch.”
That did it.
My eyes flew open, my heart lodged in my throat, and my feet swung over the edge of the bed.
“Wards?” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Breach?”
Soft feet tickled up my leg until a guilty-looking moth sat on my lap. “I lied about the daemon.”
The starch went out of me, and I fell back, but the adrenaline churning in my veins refused to quit.
“He’s not on the porch,” she continued, climbing up my stomach to sit on my chest. “He’s in the yard.”
“Why?” I wasn’t sure if I was asking her about Asa, or the universe about why I was awake, or why she was attempting to give me a heart attack.
“He was there when I woke up this morning. Not daemon-Asa. Just regular Asa.” She stared down at me. “And before you fuss, I’ve been calling your name forever, and I really need to get back to my game.”
The downside of my brand of insomnia was when I finally did fall sleep, I was dead to the world. That explained why I didn’t rouse when she called my name. It had nothing to do with my subconscious perking up at learning Asa was right outside.
None of which sounded great for my peace of mind. “Clay?”
“I haven’t seen him.”
Eyes sliding closed, I mumbled, “I’ll handle it.”
Colby pounced on my gut, knocking the wind out of me, then zipped out the door in a