Blood and Fire (Guardian Witch #4)

Blood and Fire (Guardian Witch #4) Page 34

She turned her steps toward the club. Andreas would be up by now, and she wanted to tell him about the cave invasion, but she really had to discuss Gabriel and Claris. She couldn’t stop thinking about her friend. About both of them really, and she hoped Andreas might have a better perspective. She kicked a twig from the sidewalk. There was always the possibility she was overreacting.

Which was exactly what Andreas told her twenty minutes later. In fact, he seemed a little irritated with the discussion. “Why are you so upset about this? Claris is a grown woman. She does not need you running her life.”

“I’m not trying to run her life. I just don’t want her getting into something she’s going to regret. Since we were little, she’s always wanted the white picket fence with the two and a half kids.”

Andreas went still. “I wondered when you would get around to children. Is this about Claris or about you?” He looked up from the business reports in his hands. “Are you rethinking your own choices, Arianna?”

She shook her head slowly, her eyes watching his face. “No. How can you ask me that? My lifestyle isn’t child-friendly. I have other responsibilities. I have the life I want.”

“Do you?” He looked at her for a long, silent moment. “Then let Claris and Gabriel make their own decisions.” He set the papers aside and leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about the intruder in the caves instead. The weretigers reported you and Ryan were present when it happened.”

Ari latched onto the new topic and perched on the corner of his desk. “So someone already called you, huh? There isn’t much to tell. The tigers spotted someone, who then got away by using a previously unknown tunnel to the surface. I think it was Hawkson.”

“I almost wish he would find the thing.” Andreas sighed. “All these intrusions would stop.”

She shot him a quizzical look. “You’re not going to seal the new entrance, are you?”

“Not for a while. Is Hawkson not the rightful owner? I would be quite satisfied to see the amulet in his hands.”

“What if someone else finds the tunnel and goes exploring?”

“The guards are checking it now and will stop them.”

“And won’t they stop Hawkson?”

He gave a dismissive shrug. “Not if I grant him access.”

“You can still surprise me, Andreas. I thought you’d want to claim the stone for the vampires.”

“There is much about me you do not know, cara mia, but I am willing to share.” The long look he gave her turned into a slow smile. “Unless you allow me to get back to work, we may as well go home now.”

“OK, I get it.” She slipped off the desk. “You’re busy, and I still have things to do.” She paused at the door and returned his look. “Later tonight I intend to fully explore this mysterious side of yours.”

“My pleasure.”

Chapter Nineteen

Ari had barely unlocked her office door the following morning when her cell phone rang. Her first appointment, a homeless elf waiting in the hallway to talk with her about housing, looked resigned when she answered the call. She mouthed, “I’ll be quick,” and closed her door. She would have let the call go to voice mail, except it was Ryan.

“Sorry I didn’t call last night, but I had trouble finding the excavation site. Then everybody was gone for the evening,” Ryan explained. “I’m here at the dig now, and, you know, this stuff is pretty interesting. These bones are from the ice age.” His voice faded as he turned to talk to somebody at the other end. “Was that before or after the dinosaurs?” There was a muffled reply, then he was back. “Carmody says it was probably after. Although there have—”

“Ryan,” she broke in. “Tell me about Dyani. I’m at my office, and a client is waiting.”

“Oh, sure. She’s gone. Took off two days ago. She told Carmody she’d lost interest in being part of the show. Something about mammoths having nothing to do with her specialty in Indian lore. He thinks she’s gone home to Oklahoma. I’ll try to confirm that, but I’m driving back to Riverdale today. If I need to go to Oklahoma, I’ll fly out from there. Anything new on your end?”

“It’s quiet. Not a sign of any of our creeps.”

“Good, that’s nice to hear for a change. I’ll be back by afternoon if you need me for anything. Oh, wait, Ari, Carmody wants to talk to you.”

She waited until the filmmaker came on the line.

“Ms. Calin?”

“I’m here. What can I do for you?”

“That name and address in Cincinnati? I got it for you. Priscilla Avery.” He gave her the address and phone number. “That number is two years old, so no guarantees. The lieutenant tells me the doctor decided Barron’s death was a rare type of heart failure. I’m glad it wasn’t murder after all.”

“Thanks for the information,” she said. Avery was the same name her coven sister had found: a witch with a shady reputation. Perhaps it was time to place a call.

She ignored Carmody’s comments on Barron’s death. Ryan must have given him the police department’s official statement, but she hadn’t seen the final medical report. Heart failure worked as well as any other COD, but she didn’t want to say something that might be contradictory. She settled for adding, “Good luck with your film.”

Once off the phone, she invited her client in and handled his homeless status by escorting him to a local shelter and leaving him with a list of potential employers.

It was almost noon before she placed the call to Priscilla Avery.

The phone was answered by a man who said he was Priscilla’s son. Ari explained who she was and left her number for a call back, stating it was urgent. By the time she left the office at dusk, she’d finished her backlog of reports, talked twice with Ryan—who couldn’t locate Dyani—and still hadn’t heard from Avery. The woman was avoiding her, and that piqued Ari’s curiosity.

She went home and pulled out her scrying bowl, hoping to confirm whether the witches were still in town. She and the coven had unfinished business between them, and this time there would be no unscheduled side trips. Not for Ari.

Setting up the candles and the bowl of water, Ari gently swung the crystal over the water, murmured the words of the spell three times, and pictured the face of the High Priestess. Nothing happened. Not even a map. The spell wasn’t picking up even residual energy of her target. Ari looked again but didn’t find the slightest shimmer on the liquid’s surface. She scrunched up her nose while she tried to think it through. Had the coven gotten better at concealing themselves or had they left town? How could she determine the difference? If they were really gone, the only lead left was the elusive Patricia Avery.

Ari repeated the ritual twice more: once using the face of Sophistrina to guide the spell; the second time another member of the coven. Not a glimmer of energy appeared. So they were gone. But why and to where? She would have sworn the High Priestess would not give up until she had the bloodstone, and it was still in the cave.

For a moment, Ari’s certainly wavered. Was it? Had she really felt the bloodstone’s power or imagined it? She gave herself a mental shake. This wasn’t the time to lose faith in her magic, which told her plainly that the stone was there.

Therefore, it was.

She put her ritual items back where they belonged, her mind focusing on what she should do now. Should she go after them? Or should she simply say good riddance? The coven had murdered a man, but how practical was it to chase them across the country, even across the world? Would she place others in danger by doing so?

Then again, maybe she was asking herself too many questions. She was a cop. She brought criminals to justice. No matter the cost, she couldn’t let the High Priestess walk away. The witch hadn’t only committed murder, she had led her sisters into darkness. That was even less forgivable.

By morning Ari knew what she wanted to do. She called the airfield and had Andreas’s plane fueled and ready for takeoff that afternoon. She would be in Cincinnati no later than dusk.

After a late-night phone conversation with Stella, her sister witch in Perry, Ari was positive the witch consultant in Ohio would be able to tell her something. Priscilla Avery had been investigated twice by the Ohio State Police in connection with mysterious disappearances. Recently, local police had responded to numerous complaints from neighbors about strange chanting and lights at night. Children and animals avoided the property. Although authorities hadn’t found anything illegal, Ari was convinced some of the events were from the black coven’s activity. The witches were there or had been. It felt right, and the woman was avoiding Ari’s calls. That alone made her guilty of something.

After a morning exchanging phone calls with Ryan about the elusive Dyani and consulting with her coven in Perry, Ari departed town midafternoon, touching down two hours later at a private Ohio airstrip. A tan SUV rental with fold-down seats was waiting as arranged, and she drove into the suburbs to the address Stella had confirmed. Parking a block away, she settled in to wait, playing a game on her cell phone and watching the house. Around six o’clock a woman unlocked and entered the front door; at dusk the first floor lights came on. When it was completely dark outside, lights at the residence suddenly went out.

Ari sat up and studied the street. It was much too early for bed. If the woman was leaving, Ari intended to follow. Seconds, then minutes went by without movement. Otherworld power drifted toward her from the direction of the house, and her witch blood stirred with eagerness.

The coven was meeting in or around the house under the cover of darkness.

To confirm her suspicion before revealing herself, Ari climbed into the flattened backseat and began a ritual, using the scrying bowl with her incantation. A bright light popped up immediately—right where she expected it. She ended the ritual and phoned Emmy in Perry. They talked over their plans one last time, then Ari got out of the car and walked up the street. As she neared the house, the sensation of power grew stronger, and her witch senses surged with urgency.