Demon's Dance (Lizzie Grace 4)

When we’ll talk some more. He didn’t say that, but it nevertheless seemed to shimmer down the phone line.

“You will.” I hung up and silently cursed fate and anyone else who might be listening for putting me in this position—even if, in truth, I had no one to blame but myself, my fears, and my inability to fully trust anyone but Belle.

“You've got good reason not to trust after being betrayed by your own goddamn father,” Belle said. “But if you're right—if Castle Rock is our end destination—then I think you need to come clean with Aiden.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Even if I do, it doesn't change the situation between us.”

“No, but it will at least end the lies.” Belle hesitated. “And if your premonitions are right—if your dad does discover and come after us—then we’re going to need him in our corner.”

I snorted softly. “Do you really think either my father or Clayton will take any goddamn notice of a ranger?”

“No, but I doubt Aiden will be the only one in our corner. I rather suspect Katie and the wild magic will be too, and not even your father can do much about the latter. Your mom certainly proved that strength and breeding don’t matter when it comes to wild magic.”

Which was true enough. I didn’t really know the exact details, as it had happened in the months before I was born, but I did know her efforts to channel and control had almost resulted in her death.

Was that the reason I could do what she couldn’t? Had her close call with the wild magic somehow made me more attuned to it?

It was possible. Very possible.

I threw my phone back into my bag and went back into the kitchen to finish preparations for the evening meal. Sunlight was still streaming into the café by the time seven rolled around. Monty arrived at five past and rapped loudly on the door.

“Ready?” I said, with a glance at Belle.

“Yeah. But he can’t actually ask any questions until I release his thoughts, so expect a thick wave of anger and frustration.”

“Great.” I shored up my defenses, then walked across to the door and opened it.

He strode in, his face thunderous and his body practically vibrating. “You had better damn well explain—”

“Monty, sit down, shut the fuck up, and we will,” I said. “But please believe we had a very good reason for stopping you blurting out our real identities to all and sundry.”

He glanced at me, eyes narrowed and expression unconvinced. But, after a moment, he moved across the room and threw his coat over the back of the chair at the table we’d set for dinner. Belle silently handed him a glass of red and then sat down opposite him.

I perched between the two of them and wrapped my hands around my whiskey glass. “You know how you said earlier that you had to get out of Canberra because your dad was angry accreditation had uncovered the fact you were less than expected?”

His nod was a short, sharp movement.

I glanced at Belle.

Don’t look at me. He can speak—he just doesn’t want to.

Oh. I returned my gaze to Monty. “Imagine how much worse it would have been if you’d not only been declared underpowered, but were also held responsible for the death of a sibling who did meet your father’s expectations? A sibling who was the shining light in your father’s eyes?”

He frowned. “Why would your father hold you responsible for Catherine’s death? She was killed by a dark sorcerer, and while she might have been the last victim, she was by no means the only one.”

“Because,” I said, my voice holding an edge of bitterness I couldn’t quite control. “I tried to save her, and I failed.”

His confusion deepened. “I take it you tried to do so alone?”

“Yes.”

“But why on earth would you do that? Why didn’t you talk to your parents?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Would you have listened to someone you considered a failure as a witch?”

He hesitated. Belle’s snort filled the silence. “That right there is y

our answer.”