Circle of Fire (Damask Circle 1)

So she had. He just hadn’t expected the attack to come within the first two hours of his arrival. “I need you to do some checking for me.”

“What?”

He heard the soft rustle of paper and could imagine her ferreting through the huge mound of documents on her desk, searching for a pencil to make notes—which she really didn’t need. Despite her age, Seline had an incredible memory.

“The Hank Stewart we have on file is not the same man that’s currently working at the inn. Might be worth checking whether any unidentified bodies have been found in the area recently. You might also check to see if he’s purchased any other properties in the area.”

“You think this Hank is responsible for the attack on you?”

“Bit of a coincidence, otherwise. I never actually met him the day I checked in, so how he knew I was here for anything more than a v

acation is beyond me. But he’s not the brains behind the operation—I know that much.”

“Old magic is the key, cowboy. And old magic has ways and means of finding out information.”

“Gee, doesn’t that make everything so much clearer,” he said sarcastically.

“If you’re not careful, boy, I’ll come down there and slap that smartness from your mouth.”

He grinned. Seline was half his height and twig-slender, but she could be a fearsome old bird when she wanted. And he had no doubt that she’d do as she threatened.

“Anything else?” she continued.

“Shapeshifters. I need to know if there are any known to be in this area. I’ve seen one, at least, but I need to know her human identity.”

“Will do.” She hesitated, then added, “You okay? I had this feeling you were in trouble.”

“I was, but I found help.” Help he didn’t really want. He glanced at his watch. If he didn’t hurry, he’d be late for his meeting with her.

“Well, be careful, cowboy. You could lose more than you bargained for on this one.”

Alarms rang in his mind. He had an odd feeling Seline wasn’t talking about the job, but something more personal. “I’m always careful, Seline.”

Her laugh was a high-sounding cackle. “I know. That’s what will make your fall all the more delicious. I’ll be in touch.”

She hung up before he could question her further. He swore and slammed the receiver back into place. Sometimes the old witch’s tendency to speak in riddles was more than a little annoying.

It took him ten minutes to walk up to where he’d left his truck, only to discover it had indeed been towed away. He wasted nearly another hour finding the police station, filling in forms, and paying the fine.

He glanced at his watch as he climbed into the driver’s seat and swore again. He still had to buy a jacket and some other clothes, and it was already well past the time he had said he’d meet Maddie.

He just had to hope she didn’t get sick of waiting and go off alone. There was a lot of strength in Maddie, despite her fears.

When he finally pulled into the café’s small parking lot, he was relieved to see her truck was still parked there. But sitting right next to it, in an unfamiliar dark blue Ford, was a man he recognized. Terry Mackenzie.

He’d known the FBI agent was involved with the investigation into the sixteen disappearances, but he was the last person Jon had expected or wanted to see in Taurin Bay.

He half thought about driving past and parking around the corner, out of Mack’s sight, but at that instant the man looked up. Jon smiled grimly. Some days you just couldn’t win. He parked the truck and climbed out, approaching the car cautiously. While Jon had worked on several of the same cases as the agent over the last ten years, their relationship was neither professional nor personal. Jon trusted the man with his life, but not with his secrets.

The car door opened, and the big man levered himself out with an awkwardness Jon knew was highly deceptive. Mack might look overweight, but he was fast when it mattered.

“Well, well.” The big man’s hard gray eyes watched him carefully, as if ready to pounce given the slightest provocation. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“About to say the same thing myself.” Jon crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the outside wall of the restaurant. He knew there was nothing casual about this meeting. There never was with Mack.

Mack unhurriedly opened a pack of cigarettes and pulled one out. “Weren’t you in Atlanta last week?”

He nodded. Another missing child had turned up. Another murder yet to be solved. “I met your partner there.”