Relief hit so hard my legs went to water. I would have collapsed had Aiden not caught me. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s over—done.”
He was a good enough judge of people and situations to know that it wasn’t, but I didn’t say anything. I simply enjoyed his embrace while I could.
“Well,” Monty said into the silence. “That went way better than I thought it would.”
“Aye,” Ashworth agreed, his tone dry. “None of us are dead.”
“Clayton’s furious, not insane,” Monty retorted. “He won’t break the threefold rule.”
“That rule doesn’t apply to physical attack,” Belle said quietly. “And that’s what’s still coming.”
“Then we need to get you somewhere safe.” Monty paused. “Both of you, I mean.”
“Of course you did.” My voice was dry. I pulled free from Aiden and turned around. “And we have a plan for that.”
“No, we really don’t,” Belle said. “Not unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“I think it will be.”
“And I think you’d better enlighten the rest of us,” Monty said.
I waved a hand. “Later. For now, can we get the hell out of here? Clayton’s stink lingers, and my stomach is threatening to revolt.”
Ashworth’s gaze sharpened. “I’ve got a good nose for cologne, lassie, and he wasn’t wearing any.”
I hesitated, but he deserved the truth. Or at least part of it. Neither he nor Monty knew about the second wellspring and had no idea Katie’s spirit controlled it, and I really wanted to keep it that way. The fewer people who knew what Gabe had done, the better—especially when it came to people like my father, who cared for nothing except power and its uses.
“It appears the wild magic is sharpening some of my senses.”
Ashworth frowned. “Why would it be doing that? It’s a force—a form of magical energy from deep within the earth. It can kill, but it can’t alter.”
“I know, and I don’t understand why it’s happening. It just is.”
Which was totally the truth, and yet his expression suggested he knew there was more I wasn’t saying.
“Once the current problem has been dealt with, I might take a trip up to Canberra,” he commented. “The Society has an archive of old magics—there might be something on wild magic there.”
“They have?” Monty’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t suppose you need a research assistant, do you?”
“No, laddie, I do not.”
“You’re reservation witch,” Belle said, voice dry. “You can’t be flitting about willy-nilly.”
“Even a reservation witch gets holidays.”
“Not when they’ve only been in the job a few months.”
“There is such a thing as pro-rata,” he commented, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Truth is, you just want to keep me close.”
A smile touched her lips. “Well, you are handy when it comes to psychos wanting to punch me out.”
“If you’ve finished flirting with each other,” Aiden said, his voice dry, “how about we get on the road? I’ve an early start tomorrow.”
“It’s all right for you,” Monty grumbled as he led the way out the door. “You’ve caught your girl. Mine’s still playing hard to get.”
“Not hard,” Belle drawled. “Impossible.”
“Impossible isn’t in my vocabulary.”