“That would be a nice change.”
He touched my arm lightly, his fingers sliding down to mine and briefly squeezing them. The warmth of his touch lingered well after I’d left the hotel.
It was a much slower journey back to Castle Rock. Ashworth threw the door open almost before I’d fully stopped outside his apartment, but I caught his arm before he could get out. “If that explosion was meant to do nothing more than throw out trackers, you might want to take extra precautions for the next few days.”
“I didn’t get hit—”
“You can’t be absolutely sure of that, so just do me a favor—throw up extra protection spells, shield the doors and windows against intruders, and if someone unexpectedly knocks on your door, don’t answer the damn thing.”
He snorted. “I may be an old witch but I’m—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, but this young witch is concerned, so just humor me and do as I ask.”
A smile twitched his lips. “It’s nice to know I’m not totally hated in this reservation.”
“No one here hates you.”
“No, they mostly just can’t tolerate my attitude.” He chuckled softly and patted my hand. “I’ll be careful, you can be sure.”
“Good. Ring me when you transcribe the rest of that note. I want to know what it says.”
“Will do.”
He climbed out. I watched until he was indoors and then headed home. Belle was already asleep, so I went into the reading room, emptied the backpack and put everything safely away, and then headed for my own bed.
Only to be hit by dreams that shifted between skinned wolves howling to the moon and blood that seeped through the forests and the fields, killing all that it touched until nothing was left but a landscape that was barren and black.
* * *
I was on my third cup of coffee and in the kitchen cooking breakfast by the time Belle clattered down the stairs the next morning.
She took one look at my face—which undoubtedly looked as haggard as I felt—and said, “Another shitty night?”
“Yes.” I plated up our breakfast then slid one across to her. “Dreams of doom and death, all of which were, of course, ambiguous.”
“Do you ever do anything other than ambiguous?”
“Apparently not.”
I picked up my coffee and plate and followed her out into the café. In between eating my bacon and eggs, I updated her on Chester and the possibility that our heretic witch was still alive.
“Hence the reason for the incomprehensible dreams,” Belle said.
“More than likely.” I licked the last bit of egg off my knife, then picked up my coffee and leaned back in the chair. “If he is, then it’s very possible he’ll make a play for the wellspring once he’s mobile.”
“More than possible,” Belle said. “I can’t see any other reason for a dark witch to come here. I mean, it’s a great place to live and work, but it’s too staid for the bad boys.”
“You say that with such authority, and yet I believe this is the first time we’ve come across a blood witch since we left Canberra.”
“No—we did cross paths with one in Wollongong, remember?”
“Crossing paths being the key words there.” We’d done nothing more than walk in front of the woman. “And she was so unthreatened by our presence she didn’t even notice us.”
“Probably because it was obvious to anyone within a half-mile radius just how scared shitless we were.” She wrinkled her nose slightly. “You know, a tracking spell can sometimes work two ways—if Chester has got small shards left in his body, it might be possible to reverse the spell and use it to track the heretic witch down.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You’ve obviously been reading your gran’s book, because they certainly didn’t teach us that when we were at school.”
“We’re lucky they taught us anything at all given how much they hated a Sarr witch being in their presence.” She paused to drink some coffee. “I actually thought we might be able to do the same with those bracelets the hunters are using to control the werewolves.”