Wicked Wings (Lizzie Grace 5)

“Could she have done a deal with a dark witch? Or even a demon? Our demon?”

“At this stage, I’m not discounting any possibility.” He glanced at me. “But you did say there were three shifters who were attacked, and it’s very unusual for a demon to bind itself to more than one entity at a time.”

“Unusual but not unknown. I’ve read plenty of texts about dark witches enslaving their children, siblings, or even lovers to gain greater power.”

“True. Turn right into Fryers Road—it’s just after the swimming pool.”

I did so. The road narrowed alarmingly, forcing me to slow down. We drove under an old brick rail bridge, and the houses gave way to rolling, tree-covered hills.

“Perfect area for a shifter to hide out in,” I commented. “Lots of roosting areas.”

“Bird shifters no more spend the majority of their time in their alternate form than werewolves do,” Monty commented. “I thought you’d know that, given you’re dating one of the locals.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, but maintaining an alternate form is the easiest way to hide in plain sight. Non-witches wouldn’t know the difference, and werewolves probably wouldn’t either, unless they were close enough to scent them.”

“Also true.” He paused and glanced down at the pulsing spell. “Slow down—it’s that house on the left.”

I pulled onto the side of the road and stopped the Outback. The house was more a cottage, with a door in the middle and single-pane windows on either side. Its tin roof was rusted, but the small front garden was well-tended and the grass cut short.

“What do you think?” he asked.

I leaned my arms on the steering wheel and studied the place. Curtains had been drawn across the windows and I couldn’t see a car, though there was no driveway entrance at the front, either. The cottage was obviously accessed from the side road up ahead.

“I’m thinking this looks too easy.”

He glanced at me. “She couldn’t know I’d be able to unpick her magic and use it to track her.”

“I know. I just—” I grimaced. “Maybe it’s my inner pessimist coming to the fore, because I’m certainly not getting any bad vibes from the place.”

“Would you, from this distance?”

“Possibly.”

He grunted and returned his gaze to the cottage. “We need to go in there and look.”

“Yes. But it’s too open here to do that.”

I shoved the SUV back into gear and continued on to the small road. As I’d guessed, the cottage’s driveway came off this. I parked on the grass under a large gum tree and then twisted around to look back at the property. There were a number of old sheds in the main yard, and a couple more in the paddocks beyond—most of which seemed to be shelters for a small assortment of sheep and cattle. There was also a large metal water tank sitting next to the house, though it looked as rusted as the roofing. The cottage had to be connected to the town’s main water supply, because no one in their right mind would be drinking from a tank that degraded.

“The back of the house looks as locked down as the front,” Monty commented. “And I can’t see a car.”

“It could be

in one of the sheds.” Two were certainly large enough to hold a vehicle. “What do you want to do?”

“Go in, of course. It’s the only way we’ll know if she’s in there or not.”

“And if she is?”

“Then maybe we can speak to her.”

I snorted. “Yeah, a shifter who’s possibly done a deal with the devil—or, at least, one of his demons—is really going to calmly sit down and have a nice little chat with the reservation witch.”

His grin flashed. “Hey, you never know until you try.”

“Things are never that easy in this place. Trust me on that.”

I jumped out and hurried around to hold the door open while he maneuvered out of the SUV. Once he was balanced on his crutches, I grabbed both packs and slung them over my shoulder.