Demon's Dance (Lizzie Grace 4)

He stepped closer and peered at the screen for several seconds. “He does frequent the club, but I can’t recall him being here tonight. Which, of course, doesn’t mean he wasn’t. I could check the security cams, if you’d like.”

“If you could, that would be great.” I retrieved my phone and shoved it back into my purse. “If the being that did this to him had come into the club, would you have sensed it?”

“I’d think it unlikely given I’m not attuned to such forces, only those of my own kind.” She rose elegantly. “You know where to find me if you have further questions, Elizabeth.”

And with that, she disappeared into the darkness. I blinked and glanced at Roger. “That was rather sudden, wasn’t it?”

“A problem has arisen in one of the private rooms that needs attending to.?

?

I hadn’t known there were private rooms, and I had absolutely no desire to uncover what they might be used for. I quickly finished my drink then followed Roger through the room and left.

It was close to dawn by the time I got home. I parked Aiden’s truck beside the old Ford wagon Belle and I owned, and then slipped inside the café through the rear door. Shadows filled the hallway but pale light filtered through the windows in the main dining area, highlighting various bits of mismatched furniture and the small teapots of flowers that decorated each table. The air was warm and rich with the scents of cinnamon and chocolate, and magic caressed my skin. Its source was the multiple layers of protection spells we’d placed around the building. No one intending us harm would ever get in here easily; not even, I suspected, the strongest of witches. While I hadn’t intended it, the wild magic was layered through the spells that protected us. It gave us an edge—one that had already saved our butts.

Of course, it was also something of a liability given any witch who came into the café and started looking a little too closely at our spell network would notice the presence of the wild magic; it was something that would raise questions I couldn’t—and wouldn’t—answer.

Trepidation stirred anew, but I did my best to ignore it and ran up the stairs to my room, where I stripped off and climbed into bed. I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow; if I dreamed, I didn’t remember it.

It was close to ten by the time I rattled down to the café. Belle had left a note saying she’d gone for a run, and I discovered a text on my phone from Aiden stating he was heading home to sleep, and that he’d drop by to get the keys in the afternoon, just before he started his shift. I made myself some breakfast and then started decorating the cakes Belle had baked last night. Normally it was an activity that soothed my mind, but I found myself constantly looking at the nearby clock to check the time. The trepidation that had stirred last night was not only back, but increasing in intensity the closer it got to twelve thirty—the time the new witch was supposed to arrive.

Belle reappeared just before that. She was a little over six feet tall and had the physique of an athlete—something she was proud of and worked hard on. She was a Sarr witch by birth, so had their ebony skin, long, silky black hair—which was currently swept up into a ponytail and dripping sweat onto the floor—and eyes that were a gray so pale they shone silver in even the dullest of light.

I was almost her polar opposite, possessing the crimson red hair of the blueblood lines, pale skin, and a smattering of golden freckles across my nose and cheeks. The one thing I would never be described as, however, was athletic. I tended to be a little more generously curved, and my exercise was no more strenuous than walking and yoga.

I pulled out the revitalization brew we kept in the fridge and poured her a glass.

She gulped it down and then said, “I needed that.”

“Apparently so,” I replied, amused. “And now you’d better go shower, because Ashworth and Eli will be here with the new witch soon.”

Eli was Ashworth’s partner and a retired RWA witch. While the two of them were currently living in temporary accommodation, they’d recently decided to move to Castle Rock permanently. Not only because they liked life in the reservation, but because Ashworth was apparently fascinated with the “conundrum” Belle and I presented. According to him, our magical abilities combined in a way no one had thought possible. We’d long been able to draw on each other’s strength, but neither of us had—until he’d mentioned it—been aware the merging was deeper than that.

“I’m not sure why he’s bothering,” she said. “He knows we want as little to do with the man as possible.”

“He really hasn’t got a choice—our magic is helping to protect the wellspring, and we’ll need to be involved in dismantling it so the new witch can weave his own spells around it.”

“There’s no guarantee the new witch’s protection net will be any stronger than the one you and Ashworth have woven around it.”

“Except for the fact that even Ashworth has stated his knowledge of recent spell developments is seriously lacking, and his power will not be enough to counter any major entities that head this way.”

“I guess.” She dumped the empty glass in the nearby sink. “Just don’t give them the fresh cakes—not until we know if this new fellow is worthy of them.”

I snorted and, as she headed upstairs, walked around the counter to set up the coffee machine.

One o’clock came and went. I did more prep for tomorrow, but it did little to ease the gathering tension.

I wished I knew why. Wished I knew what it was about this witch that my psychic senses were picking up and fearing.

“Ashworth’s just pulled up outside,” Belle said as she came down the stairs.

“And the witch?”

“With him, obviously.” Her gaze narrowed slightly. “I can’t read him.”

The tension became alarm. “Why not?”

She hesitated. “I think he’s wearing one of those devices that stop telepathic intrusion.”