Blood Kissed (Lizzie Grace 1)

“The old legends apparently have it right,” she said. “Decapitation, stake them through the heart, then burying them under soil blessed with holy water.”

“Can a priest do the latter, or does it have to be incorporated within a spell?”

“No. And holy water originates from priests, not us,” I said. “Have you talked to Karen’s dad about her funeral?”

He nodded. “I told him the explosion at the morgue had taken out a good portion of the refrigeration room and that he wouldn’t be able to have an open casket at his daughter’s funeral. He accepted it without fuss.”

Of course he did. It meant he wouldn’t have to pretend any real emotional connection as he looked upon his daughter for the last time.

That’s a bit harsh, Belle said. It’s not like he totally abandoned the kid. He did at least see her.

An uncaring dad is often worse than an absent one. And I knew that from experience.

I got the impression Phillip Banks wasn’t really uncaring—I think he simply put his own comforts and desires ahead of everyone else’s.

“I’m once again getting the impression there’s a whole separate conversation happening that I’m not a part of,” Aiden said.

Belle reached out and patted his hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it after a while.”

“I’d rather you just talk to each other like normal people,” he said. “Especially when you’re in my presence.”

“But we’re not normal people,” Belle said sweetly. “And you seriously do not want to hear every little thing we’re telepathically discussing. It might just make you a little uncomfortable.”

Amusement crinkled the corners of his blue eyes and made my pulse skip a beat or two. Disheveled or not, this man was seriously attractive when he smiled.

“I’m a werewolf. There’s not much that will make me blush.”

“Even when it involves two witches?”

“Depends what those two witches are doing,” he replied evenly. “And to whom.”

I just about choked on my tea, and Belle laughed, a contagious sound that broke the boundaries of my spell and had people looking around with a smile.

“I think there’s actually a half-decent person underneath that cool and unemotional exterior of yours, Ranger,” she said. “It’s a shame you don’t unleash it more often.”

“How do you know I don’t?” he asked. “As I’ve said before, neither of you know much about me or my pack.”

“Nor did you wish us to,” I reminded him. “Or has that now changed?”

He met my gaze, and I watched the amusement die. It wasn’t replaced by the all-too-familiar wariness or distrust, but it wasn’t exactly offering any hope of friendship, either. “I honestly can’t answer that question.”

I nodded, even as I hoped my unruly hormones took note and didn’t step any further along the attraction line.

“Then I’m gathering you’re here now not so much to talk, but because you want me to try finding Mason via the watch?”

“Yes. But also to tell you there was an attack last night—our vampire fed on an old couple not too far from Marjorie’s.” He paused, gaze narrowing as it swept my face. “You don’t look at all surprised.”

“No, because when I returned home last night, the vibes coming off the watch were strengthening, not diminishing. Given Mason’s life comes from our vampire, it had to mean he’d fed.”

“You should have contacted me—”

“And told you what? It’s not like I could tell you who he’d attacked or where.” Wasn’t as if he’d actually had the people free to go looking.

“You’ll have to release some kind of statement soon,” Belle commented. “Not even a full press blackout will stop the rumors now that there’s a desecrated grave and four people dead.”

“That is the province of the council, not us.” He pushed his empty plate away. “I relocated the Redferns this morning, and have them under twenty-four-hour guard. Will that be enough, or will Mason still be able to find them?”

“Mason’s a zombie,” Belle said. “He has no memories and no ability to think for himself. He is simply a creature at the whim of his master’s needs and desires.”