Wicked Wings (Lizzie Grace 5)

“I’m not full-on dreaming, like you do,” she continued, “but it seems I have gained a little insight precognition. And it’s damn annoying, let me tell you.”

“Yeah, sorry, but let’s be honest—it’s better than that bitch ruining your life and running your body.”

“Oh, totally.” She wrinkled her nose. “Anyway, said bad vibes said Kash was going to be big trouble if I didn’t watch it, so I broke it off. Better safe than sorry when it comes to a relationship that was only ever casual.”

I clicked my coffee mug against hers. “Shall we head on over to the club tonight and have a celebratory drink or two?”

Her eyebrows rose. “You’re not going out with Aiden tonight?”

“Nope. He’s got a family run on. It’s the full moon tonight, remember.”

“Ah.” She took a drink, her expression contemplative. “It must stick in his mother’s jaws something chronic that he’s showing no signs of getting tired of your relationship and moving on.”

“Oh, it really does.” I’d met her briefly in the supermarket a few days ago, and though outwardly it was sweetness and light, the underflow was fierce. Deadly, even. “I dare say she’ll be breaking open the champers when we finally do split.”

“Which hopefully won’t happen for a little while yet. Let the bitch suffer a bit more.”

We clicked mugs to that sentiment. Someone knocked at the rear door and then came in without either of us saying anything.

“Only me,” Ashworth said as his steps echoed in the small hall.

“It’s too early for cake and coffee,” Belle said, amused. “Unless you want instant like us.”

“Instant’s fine, and I’ll grab two if you don’t mind. Eli’s waiting for me outside.”

“So why come here for coffee when you’ve a perfectly good machine at home?”

“Because I thought you’d want to hear the news.”

“You two are already married, so it can’t be that,” I said. “Have you perhaps decided to extend the family and adopt?”

“No, idiot. It would hardly be fair on the child to have me as a father.”

I smiled. “But he’d also have Eli, and his sweetness would counter your gruffness.”

> “Thanks, but no. I’ve enough trouble coping with the young witches currently in this reservation.”

“Then why, pray tell, are you here?”

He hesitated, and the sudden seriousness in his expression had my gut clenching. “Because I have some news.”

“What?” It came out breathy. Filled with fear.

“I heard from my sister.” He hesitated, and took a deep breath. “Clayton Marlowe left Canberra yesterday, and no one knows where he went.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to.

We all knew what it meant. The tracer’s report had finally hit his desk, and the one thing I’d been running from for twelve years was about to happen.

My husband was on his way here to reclaim his wife.