Broken Bonds (Lizzie Grace 3)

Aiden fast-forwarded until the three men appeared again. Our witch showed them a bracelet, obviously giving them advice and instructions. Once they’d handed over a paper bag that looked to be at least half full—and no doubt contained cash—she handed them a rather prettily gift-wrapped box. I had to wonder why she’d even bothered.

“How many bracelets did you make for them?” I asked.

She glanced at me. “Ten.”

“And a control device?”

“A control and tracking charm, yes.”

“Basic or multiple?”

“Basic,” she said. “They weren’t willing to pay for additional training.”

Either that, or they already knew how to use such a charm.

“How do these things work?” Aiden asked.

She returned her gaze to him. “Via a type of binding spell. It lightly links the mind of the user with the charm, and allows them to give basic instructions to the wearer as well as location details. Helps greatly if the user has some kind of telepathic ability—the fellow with the long hair said he did.”

“How much did you charge them?” When she hesitated, Aiden added more forcibly, “Tell us now or tell us in court. It’s up to you, but I can guarantee the second option will not sit well with the judge.”

She studied him for several seconds, and then somewhat mutinously, “Ten thousand.”

“A thousand per life,” I said. “That’s pretty damn cheap.”

“Especially given the going rate for a werewolf pelt is at least ten thousand,” Aiden said.

“They said they were hunting kangaroos, I swear.”

There was desperation in her voice, but something within me just didn’t believe her.

“I guess that’s for RWA to find out, isn’t it?”

A small bell chimed in the next room and I glanced at Aiden. “I’ll go see who it is.”

As I walked out, he asked, “Did you bother getting any sort of ID from the three men? Notice what type of car or truck they were driving?”

The witch answered with a short, sharp, “No.”

I shook my head at her stupidity and stepped into the main shop. There was a mess everywhere, and with so many potions having been spilled, the air was so thickly scented it was barely even breathable. Aiden and I might be covered in the stuff, but this…. I shuddered. This would permeate the floorboards and make the place unusable for months.

“Oh dear,” the older woman who’d come through the door said. She hastily grabbed a handkerchief from her handbag and covered her nose. “This is a mess.”

“Yes, and I’m sorry, but we’re currently closed.”

She glanced at me. “Francesca not here then?”

“Yes, but she’s busy clearing up at the moment.” I waved a hand at the mess. “I’ve been tasked with cleaning this, and it could take a while, I’m afraid.”

“Indeed.” The woman looked around, her expression one of disappointment. “I guess it’ll just have to wait.”

I hesitated, and then said, “What were you after?”

“Oh,” she said. “Just my usual—a small damiana and ginseng cordial.”

Both of those herbs were used to help overcome impotence, low libido, and enhance sexual vitality. No wonder she’d looked a little disappointed at leaving empty-handed.

I looked around, spotted a bottle on one of the few shelves that hadn’t jettisoned its contents at us, and walked over to grab it.