“Four girls are missing.” Asa spun a silver ring on his finger. “We need your help finding their killer.”
“You said missing.” Rustling drew my attention to the roof, but I kept my eyes forward. “I don’t follow.”
“Eight other girls have gone missing. Each time, they were taken in groups of four.”
“Their bodies were found one month after their abductions.” Clay worked his jaw. “They were left for us to find. The killer wanted to make sure his work didn’t go unnoticed.”
A tendril of magic unfurled within me, hungry for what they offered after living on so little for so long.
“There are other witches you could contact.” I sipped my tea, tasting ashes of the past. “Why me?”
“There are similarities to a case you worked with Clay.” Asa quit his fidgeting. “We think we’re dealing with a copycat.”
Bile rose up my throat, and I washed it down with more sugar that didn’t help. “Which case?”
Clay smoothed a hand over his head. “The Silver Stag.”
“No.”
The men jerked to attention, and I shut my eyes, wishing I hadn’t agreed to Colby’s demands.
“He’s dead.” The moth charged them in a rush of fury. “Rue killed him and ate his heart. I saw it.”
The rocker creaked as I stood, my heart breaking for her. “Colby…”
“They’re wrong.” She darted as close to them as she dared without crossing the ward. “You’re wrong.”
While my former partner blanched as if he had seen a ghost, and he had, Asa hit his knees. In his suit. It must have cost a small fortune, yet he hadn’t hesitated. Not for a second. He bowed his head, rested his palms flat on his thighs, and murmured a soft prayer.
“You’re Colby Timms,” Clay said softly, a world of understanding in his coarse voice.
The last of the Silver Stag’s victims. A fae girl who had turned ten the night before she was taken.
It had always struck me as ironic they named him the Silver Stag when he had a preference for does.
“You kept her.” Asa’s tone chilled me to the bone. “All this time.”
I jerked my chin up a notch. “I did.”
“You captured a loinnir…a sacred being…a child…for food.”
The comic shock on Clay’s face when he registered his partner’s words almost made me laugh.
“Yes.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “How did you think I was so powerful, daemon?”
The heat in my words caused Clay to drag a hand down his face. “Shit.”
“That’s why I ran.” I aimed my rant toward Asa, who had yet to rise. “I saw an opportunity for power, and I took it. Happy? Now you get to feel righteous when you watch me burn for my crimes.”
“Burn?” Colby squeaked. “He’s going to burn you?”
“I’m a witch,” I said flatly. “What am I but kindling?”
The moth spun midair, raced to me, and hit me hard enough to knock me back into the rocker.
“I was wrong,” she sobbed. “I don’t want to fight. I want to run. Let’s go. Let’s just go. Please?”
Cradling her against my chest, I petted and soothed her. “I shouldn’t have said that.”