a vanilla witch. Her magics are ordinary and controlled. She isn’t capable of a magic working as complicated and original as this one, and Astrid says Catriona has less magic than Etain. No. Not death witches.”
“Original?” FireWind said, picking out one word from T. Laine’s comments. He hesitated, seeming to choose his words. “It was my understanding that most workings were built upon others already in use. Even the unusual ones you used recently were built upon older, existent workings.”
“Yes. Workings are almost always based on previous workings, even inside the strongest covens,” T. Laine said. “What I meant was, it’s supposed to be impossible to control or contain death workings. And while I’ve seen plenty of triggers, I’ve never heard of a trigger being used for a curse and I’ve never seen or heard of a trigger like this one. Triggers are for simple workings, very simple, like turning on your lawn-watering system. Not for big magic. This trigger? It’s complicated, a complete mystery to the coven and to me. Maybe the Doyle sisters brought it from Ireland, but I’d be surprised.” She described the trigger to FireWind. “The amulet was liquid based and its residue smells like licorice, aniseed, and strong spirits.”
FireWind turned in his seat and looked out the windows. Occam turned to FireWind, who held up a finger. I understood nothing about the exchange except that something was up. FireWind said softly, “Absinthe?”
I checked the term absinthe on my cell and discovered that it was a grain alcohol made by macerating herbs and spices: fennel, anise, and wormwood, among others. Until recently, it was completely banned in the U.S. and most of Europe, but the herbs made it sound like a medicinal, like something Daddy would rub on a workhorse.
T. Laine lifted her brows, thinking. “Absinthe. Could be, but it’s hard to find in this country even now.”
“Is it legal in Ireland?” he asked, stretching his body to look out the windshield and above the car.
I tapped on my tablet, searching. “Yes,” I said, and read the names of several shops that carried it in Ireland. “The reviews are mixed as to its taste and efficacy.”
“It isn’t likely that anyone devised a working elsewhere and then refined and used it here,” FireWind mused. “The Irish covens are quite straitlaced and tend to oversee their younger members with an iron fist.” He sat back in the seat, one knee up over the console, invading my space. There was nothing unkind or deliberately baiting about it, but simply because he was so tall and his legs so long. Unlike his usual office attire of black dress pants and white dress shirt, he was wearing black denim and a white button-down shirt with a lariat tie. A silver clip with a tiny yellow stone held the tie together.
I had an insane desire to ask him if he got animal hair on his clothing when he shifted into an animal form, but I swallowed it back. I was developing a big mouth, and while it could have gotten me a backhanded slap in the church, here it could result in professional difficulties that could impact my career.
My brain froze. I have a career.
“Ingram?” FireWind was talking to me.
Distracted, I had missed something. I moved my eyes to him, aware that they were too wide, too large. I have a career. “Huh?”
“Do you have something to add?”
“No. Not a thing.”
He looked amused. “Would you be so kind as to introduce me to the Ragel family?”
“Huh?”
“The Ragel family. The victim’s family. Kent is busy. You’ve met them. I would like an introduction.” He was laughing inside. I could practically see it leaking out of his pores.
“Sure.”
“Now,” FireWind said to Occam.
Occam turned in his seat, opened the door, and leaped out. A drone veered away and Occam raced into the dark, following its trajectory.
The drone had been hovering over the car. Someone was watching, perhaps listening to us. And FireWind and Occam had known.
FireWind exited on the other side and said softly, “Well. That was interesting.”
“Yeah. Fu—freaking press,” T. Laine said.
The big boss smiled at her quickly recalibrated speech.
* * *
* * *
Inside, I took FireWind on a tour of the house’s main level. When he motioned to the basement stairs, I said, “If you want, but there’s a few things you need to know. You’ll need to sit in the null room for a while after you get done, and right now it’s full of dead body stink. You’ll have to dress