before sitting beside him.
“How’s Joe? Did you manage to get him out?”
“It took a bit of effort, but we did eventually extract him. Aside from a shattered leg, he seems to have come out of it all relatively unscathed.” He began filling up his plate. “What were you two and Ashworth doing near the Poverty Valley Track?”
I raised my eyebrows. “How did you know we were all there?”
“It’s my job to notice things.” A smile teased the corners of his lips. “And that red SUV of yours doesn’t exactly fade into the background.”
“Which is why that color was picked.” Belle claimed the lemon chicken. “Given your overprotective tendencies when it comes to our girl, you will at least be able to see the car easily enough if we get lost or get into trouble in some forgotten back forest.”
“While that may or may not be true, I haven’t dared bring out the overprotectiveness since that last flash of temper.”
“Neither of us believes you were, in any way, intimidated by that very minor display of annoyance, Ranger.” My voice was dry and his smile widened.
“So, to repeat, what were the three of you doing there?”
“Following a ghost.”
His eyebrows rose. “Why?”
“Because she’s been following me, and I thought I’d return the favor and see what she wanted.”
“Did you get an answer?”
“Do we ever?” Belle said, amused.
“Well, yes, even if it does sometimes take a while.”
“I suspect this is going to be one of those times.” I piled up my plate. “Although she did lead us to a blood-covered, bone-strewn rock and some random feathers. We collected samples of each, and Ashworth’s coming over once his dinner guests leave. We’re going to attempt a locator spell.”
“On the samples or the ghost?”
“On the feathers. They belonged to a shifter who felt evil.”
“Then I’ll definitely stick around, just in case.”
“Which is just another excuse to consume more brownies after you’ve finished the Chinese,” Belle said.
“A fact I cannot deny.”
I shook my head and got down to the business of eating. Conversation flowed easily, and we were halfway through cake and coffee when Ashworth finally appeared.
“The bloody rellies wouldn’t leave,” he grumbled as he stomped through the door. “I was just about to give them a magical prod when they finally made tracks.”
“I’m sure Eli would have loved that,” Belle commented.
“The oldest of his sisters was at that drunk enough to be argumentative stage, so he was seriously considering doing it himself.”
“Wouldn’t they have sensed it?” I asked curiously. “They’re all witches, aren’t they?”
“Growing up with three younger sisters made him very adept at concealing spells. For a start, it was the only way he could keep them from snooping in his room and stealing his things.” He tugged the plastic bags out of his pocket. “Shall we do this here, or in your reading room?”
I hesitated. “While a locator spell is rarely dangerous, we’ve no true idea what we’re dealing with, so caution is the better option.”
He nodded and continued on into the room. I picked up my coffee and followed, but Belle and Aiden remained at the table. Aside from the reading room being on the smallish side, Belle could follow events through our connection.
If there’s an event to follow, she commented. It’s been hours since we found those feathers, and the resonance was fading fairly fast.
Ashworth is a more knowledgeable spell caster than us, so he should succeed where we can’t. I closed the door, then moved around to the table and sat opposite Ashworth.
I’m glad you didn’t say he’s stronger magically. Her voice was dry. Because he’s not, you know. Not these days.
The wild magic hasn’t altered my magic capabilities that much, Belle.
I wouldn’t bet on that.
Neither would I, if I was being at all honest. I took a sip of coffee. “What’s the plan?”
He placed the plastic bags on the table. “Given how quickly the echoes were fading, we’ll use your psychometry skills to pick the feather with the strongest resonance, and then weave a locator around it.”
“The only locator spells I know are fairly basic—”
Liar, liar, came Belle’s comment,
Enough comments from the peanut gallery, if you please.
As her chuckle ran through my mind, Ashworth said, “Which is why I’ll be doing it rather than you.”
I nodded. “What happens if the shape shifter is also magic capable?”
“They’re very rare beasts—”
“Then how do you account for the magic clinging to the feathers?”
“It could be nothing more than the innate magic every shifter or werewolf possess that allows them to shift—”
“Except it isn’t