Wicked Wings (Lizzie Grace 5)

“How in the hell did he ever find time to hold down a job or a relationship?”

“Good time management.” His smile flashed. “Let me regale you with some of our rally misadventures.”

He proceeded to do so, making me laugh as we headed out of Castle Rock. At Louton, I turned left onto North Road and carefully wound my way through the various tracks until the GPS told me we’d arrived at the wheel. I stopped the SUV and surveyed the deserted and rather scrubby-looking parking area.

“I’m not seeing anything that resembles a water wheel here.”

“That’s because we have to get out and walk.” He pointed to a sign on the left. “Or so that says.”

“Huh.” I climbed out, locked the car, and walked over to the path indicated by the sign. “You sensing anything?”

Ashworth shook his head. “But I’m not the one with the trouble radar.”

“That radar is mute right now.”

“And I can’t say I’m sad about that, lass. I’ve a date to see a very old movie and it’s only on tonight.”

I raised my eyebrows. “What movie?”

“Singin’ in the Rain, which is the best musical ever, no arguments.”

I raised my hands. “You won’t get one from me, but you do know it’s out on Blu-ray, right?”

“Of course, but there’s something special about seeing it on a big screen in a grand cinema older than the movie itself.”

The Royal was certainly grand, even if some of its art deco edges were looking a little tired these days. I shoved my keys into my pocket and led the way up the path. The water wheel soon came into sight, though all that actually remained was the massive stone foundations that—according to the nearby sign—had once supported one of the world’s largest water wheels. I stopped at the top of the old wooden steps leading down to the flat clearing that held the foundations and studied the area. Belle’s guides might have advised us to come here, but there was no immediately obvious reason as to why.

Ashworth stopped beside me. “Well, isn’t that a pretty impressive remnant?”

“It’s bloody huge, but it’s not exactly what we’re here for.”

“No.” He scanned the area. “I’m not sensing any—”

He cut the rest of the sentence off and frowned.

“What?” I immediately said.

“It may be nothing, but there’s a tremor of energy coming from the right.”

“Magical energy or something else?”

He hesitated. “It’s too far away to be certain.”

“Then let’s get closer.”

He took the stairs two at a time then strode across the clearing with such speed that I had to scramble to catch up with him.

We were soon well away from the old wheel, but the area remained scrubby; after a long, dry summer, what little grass remained was brown, and the scattered trees were sad-looking. Piles of tailings and waste pocked the area, evidence of the sheer number of mines that had once existed here. It was a thought that had me watching where I walked more closely. I’d already fallen down an old mine shaft once. I did not need to repeat the experience.

After another ten mi

nutes or so, Ashworth slowed. I immediately scanned the area with my ‘other’ senses and finally caught the tremor Ashworth had sensed earlier. It was definitely magic, and it was definitely foul.

“Have you any idea yet who or what is behind that tremor?”

“No.” Ashworth’s reply was remote, his expression distracted. But the force of his magic burned through the air; he was inspecting that distant caress. “But it doesn’t feel human in origin.”

My heart began to beat a whole lot faster. “Do you think it could be one of the Empusae?”