Broken Bonds (Lizzie Grace 3)

I blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yes. But given the overall number of blueblood witches in Canberra, that’s actually a very low percentage—the lowest it’s been for decades, in fact.”

Maybe it was, but it was still fourteen too many for my liking—especially when he was only talking about the bluebloods gone rogue. I daresay there were a whole lot more malcontents running loose from the lower witch houses.

“But given the description Ira has given us,” Chester continued, “there are three possibilities. All are rather nasty individuals, but there’s one we’ve been hunting for a very long time. I seriously hope he’s not the person behind the live spell.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“Let’s worry about that when and if we identify the body.”

In other words, it was none of my damn business. Which it wasn’t, but that didn't assuage the need to know. “Which leads me to a question that’s been bugging me—spells generally don’t last long past their creator’s death, so why aren’t the protection circle and the spell within it fading?”

“That is a jolly good question, and one I can’t answer until I see the circle and the spell.” Chester scooped up a big chunk of cake on his spoon and ate it; bliss immediately crossed his features. “Damn, you’re right. This is good.”

“But there is a precedence for spells lasting beyond their creator?” I said.

“Under certain circumstances, yes.” Chester glanced up at me. “Why don’t you know any of this? It’s basic study at the university.”

I smiled, but it felt thin. False. “As I’m sure you’re already aware, I never went to witch university. Underpowered half-breeds rarely do.”

“Indeed, but there’s nothing underpowered about the spells that protect this place, even if the witch that produced them is less than impressive.”

“Almost as impressive as a statement that’s both a compliment and an insult, perhaps?”

He waved his spoon. “Which is not what I intended.”

I put my mug down on the nearby table and crossed my arms. They’d undoubtedly see it as a defensive gesture, which was perfectly fine given it damn well was.

“As I’ve already told Ashworth, I have no idea how the wild magic got entangled within the protection spells. But it came to the aid of the head ranger and me out in the cemetery when we were attacked by a magic-bearing vampire, and I think threads of it must have been lingering when I boosted the spells here afterward.”

Chester grunted. “A logical explanation, though it is rare for the wild magic to interfere in such a manner.”

“It’s also rare for a major wellspring to be left unprotected for well over a year,” I bit back. “Given that—from everything I’ve ever read—it’s something that’s never happened before, maybe it’s forced the wild magic to gain some sort of cognizance in order to protect itself.”

“Wild magic is an energy that develops deep in the heart of the earth. There is no way it could ever develop the sort of awareness to self-protect—”

“Except this place has,” Ashworth said.

“So you said in your earlier memo,” Chester said. “I’d have to see proof of such before I—or anyone else in Canberra—could dare to believe.”

I glanced sharply at Ashworth. He grimaced and shrugged. The memo had obviously been sent before our discussion about why I didn’t want Canberra inve

stigating this place—and us—too deeply.

It also suggested that perhaps I’d been wrong earlier—perhaps Ashworth had been given no choice about bringing Chester here. It might, in fact, have been a directive from Canberra—a means of figuratively killing two birds and discovering whether this reservation and the magic within it, be it wild or witch, deserved deeper investigation.

The doorbell chimed again, and I glanced around to see Tala enter. She didn’t look impressed, but I guess that was to be expected given they had two dead bodies in as many days to contend with.

She gave me a nod and then said, “Right, gentlemen, let’s go. The council doesn’t appreciate too much overtime—it does all manner of nasty things to their budgets.”

Her voice was as curt as ever, but there was a slight glimmer in her eyes that suggested amusement.

Chester hastily gulped down his coffee and then rose. “I don’t suppose you’ve a bag…?”

“No cake in the car, I’m afraid,” Tala said. “Come along, gentlemen.”

Hence her amusement, I thought. I pushed away from the wall, followed the two men across to the door, and locked it behind them.