Wicked Wings (Lizzie Grace 5)

Monty raised his hand but didn’t unleash his weapon. There was no need to. This shifter presented no danger—the movement had simply been her body disintegrating. Her soul was long gone.

If she’d had a soul, that was. Its loss was quite often the price paid for working with a demon.

We silently watched feathers, flesh, and bone become foul yellow air that then faded away. Soon there was nothing left except the bits of wire I’d cut and a thin, long needle. And if it was made of pure silver, it would explain why the shifter hadn’t tried reverting form—it simply couldn’t while the needle was embedded in its flesh.

I reached in to pick it up, but energy skittered across my fingertips. Like the shifter herself, the magic was fading, but I had no intention of touching something that had been spelled when I had no idea what that spell did.

I raised my gaze toward the White Lady. The fact she was still here meant she’d obviously wanted us to find the shifter’s remains. But why? What was she trying to tell us? I suspected it was something more than the fact the shifters were working with a demon—if not the demon—but it was damn frustrating that she seemed determined to avoid direct contact.

That frustration only increased when the sense of her energy faded away.

Monty dismissed both of his spells and then moved the end of one crutch, placing it next to the needle. “That has the remnants of a boomerang spell on it.”

“A what?”

He screwed up his nose. “Seriously, your knowledge—or lack thereof—is astounding sometimes.”

“Something that can be easily fixed if you start teaching me,” I snapped back. “It’s a far better option than constantly bemoaning my lack.”

“A good point.” His grin flashed. “And it has the benefit of placing me in Belle’s general vicinity more often.”

I rolled my eyes. “Proximity will not endear you to her.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, dear Lizzie. It’s written in the stars—we’re meant to be.” He grinned as I snorted loudly. “A boomerang is the slang term for a spell that can shoot the life force of the demon back to wherever they came from. It’s the spell I was holding in reserve.”

“Except the spell on that needle didn’t feel anything like the one you conjured.”

“Because there are variations, though I have no idea what the ones on the needle did.” He motioned toward the needle. “It’s safe enough to pick up now.”

I handed it to him. “How common are pure silver sewing needles?”

“Not very, I’d imagine, but I’ll contact Canberra and see if there’s a record of suppliers.”

I pushed upright again. “Are we still going to place the camera?”

He hesitated. “The other shifters would have felt her death, so it’s unlikely they’ll return. But I still think it’s worth a shot.”

“And what about Ms. Vaughn?”

He frowned. “What about her? I doubt she’s involved, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I meant the fact she’s not currently here so she’s either away or dead. If the former, we’ll have to contact her. We can’t risk her coming back here in case the shifters do return.”

“Oh, good point. I’ll get Aiden onto that.”

Aiden would no doubt love taking orders from Monty. “I also hope they don’t decide to come after us. I’ve really had enough of being attacked by supernatural beasties for the moment.”

“It wasn’t our magic that destroyed the shifter, so I think we’re relatively safe.”

“I like the confident way in which you proclaim these things, even though we both know you’re talking through your butt.”

He smiled. “That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

I guess it didn’t. I returned the ladder and wire cutter to the shed, then held open the SUV’s door so Monty could climb in. Once I’d dropped him back at his place, I headed home. Belle had already left for Kash’s, so I finished the prep for the next day, then headed upstairs to do some reading. I found several more references to the Empusa, and jotted down the reference numbers so Belle could grab them when she went to get the next lot of books for Kash to transcribe. I was yawning by the time ten o’clock came around, so I called it quits and got an early night for a change. If I dreamed, I didn’t remember it.

My phone rang just as I was cooking breakfast the next morning, the ringtone telling me it was Aiden.

“I take it there’s a problem and you’re not coming for breakfast,” I said by way of answering.