That odd smile still touched her lips, and instinct pricked up her metaphysical ears. "And the address?"
"They have special dispensation to meet at the Frankston Reservoir Park every Sunday evening."
"And will I actually find Deborah Selwin at these meetings?"
Her smile grew. "No, you will not."
Meaning that was a question Hunter hadn’t asked—although I had to wonder why. She had far more experience hunting people down than I did—centuries of it, in fact. But maybe she’d simply slipped the information from Helena’s mind—although that would be considered a breach of etiquette in this place, and might just put her on the outs with the Brindle. Even the vampire council wouldn’t want that.
"Then where will I find her?"
"Ah," Helena said, "that is something of a problem. I can give you her home address, but we believe she has not been there for several weeks."
I guess if she was the one who’d raised the Maniae against the council, then she would have been smart enough to get the hell out of Dodge.
"Is there any one place she favors? A town or a building? Does she have a close friend or relative who might know where she is?"
"No relatives that we know of, but the Frankston coven might be able to give you more information."
Well, that was a lot of help. I forced a smile and said, "Thanks for letting me see the records. It was a help."
She inclined her head, then hesitated, cocking her head slightly, as if listening to someone else. "There is one other place you might try."
I paused in the act of turning around. "Where?"
Again she paused. "There is an old ritual site on Mount Macedon. Few people know of it these days, and even fewer would venture there, as the roadside is prone to slippage when it rains. But Selwin’s mother was high priestess when it was a functioning coven site, so she would know of it. If she felt the need to find somewhere safe, then that place would be it. There is much ancient magic there."
"Did you also pass this information on to Hunter?"