Wicked Wings (Lizzie Grace 5)

“I was wondering if she could pick me up from the hospital on the way through.”

“I’m sure she’d be absolutely delighted to.”

“There’s evilness in your tone.” His was dry.

“As long as you remember you’re in a confined space with a witch who has a very short fuse when it comes to unwanted advances, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I glanced around as three trucks pulled up on the main road; one was Aiden’s blue truck, and the other two were the green-striped white SUVs that the other rangers used. “The cavalry just arrived, Monty. Talk later.”

“We will.”

I pocketed the phone, then released the spell from around my fingers and walked up to the main road, making a wide loop around the blood and bones and doing my best to ignore the waves of agony that still rode the air.

Aiden jumped out of his truck and walked toward me. Like most werewolves, he was tall and rangy, but his shoulders were a good width, his arms lean but muscular, and his sharp features easy on the eye.

His gaze swept me, no doubt taking note of the multitude of minor scratches, and then rose to meet mine. His eyes were a deep blue rather than the usual amber of a werewolf, and his hair a dark blond that ran with silver in the darkness. The O’Connors were gray wolves, a rare color amongst Australian packs, which tended to be mainly brown, red, or black.

“You okay?” He caught my hand and tugged me closer.

“For a change, yes.”

I pressed my cheek against his chest and listened to the beat of his heart. It was a steady sound that had the tension within me slipping away. There might be another deadly demon on the loose, but when Aiden’s arms were around me, holding me so tenderly, for a few really brief seconds it didn’t matter.

He dro

pped a kiss on the top of my head and then pulled back. Though the caring remained in his eyes, his expression was all business. The ranger rather than the lover now faced me. “What have we got?”

I grimaced. “Bones. Two sets.”

His gaze scanned the immediate area. “Where’s the second set?”

“Buried in the forest. We found them first, and then heard this poor guy scream. He was like this by the time we arrived.”

“We?” He looked past me, and his expression narrowed. “Ah. The cat.”

“Yeah. He’s been keeping Monty updated.”

“Have either of them got any theories as to what did this?”

“Not as yet, but I daresay Monty will be searching Canberra’s archives tonight to see if he can find anything.”

“Good.”

He glanced around at the sound of slamming doors. Tala—his second-in-command and a tall, dark-skinned woman with silver-shot black hair—and Ciara—who was both his sister and the coroner—walked over.

Ciara eyed the gruesome pile dubiously. “And here I was hoping we’d seen the last of the weird and overly horrific deaths.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen for a while yet,” I said. “And we’re dealing with two bodies rather than one.”

“Oh, fabulous,” she muttered. “Just as well I’m no longer flying solo in this job.”

“And it might be wise to get Luke out here.” Aiden glanced past her. “Tala, do you want to secure this scene? And call in Mac—he can start interviewing the neighbors. Liz, can you take me to where the other body is?”

“If I can remember—I wasn’t really taking much notice of location in the race to get here.” I glanced at the cat. It gave me a deadpan, narrow-eyed look. He knew what I wanted, but wasn’t about to give any sort of help without a bit of groveling. He really was a bastard. “But I’m sure the lovely Eamon can help us out with that.”

The cat blinked, satisfaction apparent, then led the way down the road. I breathed easier once we were well past the bones and the waves of agony had finally fallen behind me.

“I get a feeling you don’t like that cat,” Aiden said, clearly amused.

“That’s because the cat is an irritable asshole.”