Gently, so as not to break it, I wound one strand around his left knuckle and then his right, leaving an inch gap between them.
“I’m going to recite a spell,” I told him. “When I give you the signal, you break the hair in two.”
Halfway through the process, I gave him a thumbs-up, and he jerked apart his hands.
“What did I just do?” He waited for me to finish, keeping hold of the ends. “Do you need these?”
“You can let them go.” I stepped in front of Asa. “You’re next.”
I repeated the process with him and then with myself.
“What did we just do?” Asa repeated the question. “What did I miss?”
“Clay has no hair, but the wigs are his. They were made for him. Someone with enough power and enough intent could twist that link and use it against Clay.” I rested my hand on Asa’s shoulder. “I’m not sure Trinity was grabbing for your hair so much as she was grabbing for a hair.”
“She’ll soon have access to our rooms while we’re out.” Clay put it together. “She could harvest strands from both of you. I would have been the problem child. A good wig doesn’t shed much or often.”
Not when you had them spelled to preserve them, they didn’t.
With that done, we piled into the SUV, and Asa angled toward me.
“Was it wise to do that in clear view of the house?”
“We couldn’t risk it.” I fastened my seat belt. “Hair is too dangerous to leave in enemy hands.”
Few hotels were on offer, and none of them had much in the way of amenities. As in, no cooking for us. I could imagine Clay grumbling, but he didn’t make a peep. This was about Colby, not him or his late-night cravings for cookies. Though, to be honest, I had to make a better showing of insomnia baking for him.
Lately, if I woke in the night…I mean…Asa was right there.
Warm, hard, and willing to distract me until I fell asleep again.
“Let’s get you guys checked in.” I opened my door. “I’ll be back with the keys.”
What I wanted was a moment alone to inspect the place before I left Colby there to get over her scare. I walked in to find an older woman manning the check-in desk, a tray of nachos in one hand and a slushy in the other. Her nametag read Myrtle, and it was smeared with cheese.
She set both down and wiped her hands when I approached her. “How may I help you?”
“Do you have a room available? Twin queens would be ideal.”
“Sure thing.” She paused what she was watching on TV. “Business is slow, now that…”
I waited for her to finish her thought, but she click-clacked on the keyboard instead.
“Now that what, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“The murders,” she confided as she reached for a chip. “A town this size? Feels like half the people are dead.” She crunched down. “Sure you want that room?”
“I did hear something about a kidnapping. A fire too, I think.”
“I heard two crazies snatched a kid right out of his seat, over at the Waffle Iron. They were yelling at him in tongues and calling him a demon spawn.” She slurped her drink. “They set fire to the place on their way out. The kid hasn’t been found, and neither has the arsonist. Neither have the owners.” Another crunch to gauge my interest. “For that matter, no one remembers the last time they saw the Amhersts. It’s got some folks wondering if it’s an insurance fraud thing. Like maybe the restaurant was going belly up, so they offered the kid a cut of the profits if he helped make it look more legit. It’s not like they don’t have a fallback plan. They own that old Victorian. The Amherst Inn.”
“But there are kids staying at the inn,” I began, realizing my mistake. “I noticed them on the drive in.”
“Oh.” Her next gulp gave her a brain freeze. “Yes.” She rubbed her forehead. “Them.”
“Are they the Amhersts’ kids, or are they guests?”
“Trinity and Markus Amherst. They dress up and go tramping through the woods at night.” She crinkled a straw wrapper with vigor. “They scared the bejesus out of me two months ago. I was out walking, and I heard chanting. It was just getting dark, so I wasn’t too worried, but it was damn strange.”