Page 16 of Wind Called

“Yes,” Marc said, and then described a shape with his hands that was much smaller, maybe twelve inches on all sides. “It was about this big, and it had a biometric lock.”

Oh. She knew exactly what he was talking about, because she’d seen the thing at Devynn and Seth’s bungalow before everyone in the clan had decided it would be safer if it was kept at theprima’shouse instead.

However, since Angela and Connor had made it pretty clear that they really didn’t want news of the safe — and the amulet it contained — spread all over the witch community, Bellamy wasn’t sure how she should respond to Marc’s comment…especially since she’d already told him that nothing of any real import had happened in the McAllister clan over the past few months.

“It’s okay,” Marc continued, speaking a little more quickly now, as though he understood the reason for her diffidence and knew he needed to do what he could to allay any concerns she might have about discussing the sensitive subject. “My grandmother told me all about the amulet and where it came from. I suppose I’m just trying to figure out why I would dream about it.”

Well, so much for that. If Tricia had thought it safe to confide in her grandson, then there wasn’t much point in trying to obfuscate now.

“I have no idea,” Bellamy said. “I mean, it’s obvious that the amulet is powerful and would probably be dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands. But the elders and Angela and Connor have done everything they can to make sure that won’t happen.”

Marc gave a brief nod, but something about his expression was troubled, as though he wasn’t quite sure whether all those measures would be enough.

“Did you see anything else in your dream?” she asked next, wondering if there was something he wasn’t telling her, something he wanted to keep hidden.

However, his next words seemed to disabuse her of that notion.

“Not really,” he replied, then lifted his glass of pinot grigio to his lips so he could swallow some. “But even though I didn’t see anything concrete, something about the whole thing gave me a bad feeling, as if there was some kind of danger lurking out beyond the walls of the courtyard, even though I couldn’t see it.”

Bellamy’s gaze moved outside. The courtyard was utterly deserted, with not even any birds sitting on the fountain as they often did so they could get a drink in the middle of what was otherwise a dry landscape. Back at home, she and her dads had bird feeders on their balcony, but she’d known better than to sully the pristine space outside the living room here with anything as messy as bird seed.

Although everything appeared quiet and serene, a chill inched its way down her back.

“What kind of danger?”

Marc shook his head. She didn’t know him very well yet, but she could tell he was frustrated.

“I don’t know for sure,” he said. “That’s the problem with these dreams or visions or whatever you want to call them. A lot of the time, they just hint at something, and then it’s up to me to figure it out. In this case, though, while I totally understand why someone might want to snag that amulet and use it for their own ends, I don’t have any idea who it could be. I definitely don’t want to believe that it could be anyone in the Arizona witch clans.”

“Or the Castillos,” Bellamy said. “I mean, maybe they’re not as interconnected with us as the rest of the clans here in Arizona, but still, with Angela’s daughter Miranda as theirprima,they’re still much more our allies than they used to be.”

Marc gave a glum nod, then reached over so he could set his glass of wine on one of the coasters on the coffee table. “The Ludlows, maybe?”

Bellamy supposed that was one possibility. Back in the day, the northern California–based clan had joined forces with Joaquin Escobar and had kidnapped Levi McAllister in an attempt to force him to become theirprima-in-waiting’s consort. None of that had worked out so well, and the son of theirprimahad even abandoned his clan so he could go to Flagstaff and marry one of the Wilcox witches there, but still, she had to admit that the Ludlows were kind of a wild card despite being pretty quiescent these past two decades.

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I mean, I hadn’t heard that they’ve been up to any skullduggery lately, but I also haven’t been paying all that much attention.”

A small crease appeared between Marc’s eyebrows, and then he shrugged. “I haven’t heard anything, either. Everything’s been pretty quiet on the California front, since the Santiagos have also been minding their own business. On the other hand, we both know that when you have a big witch clan, you sometimes have members who go rogue.”

Well, that was true. Not that anything like that had happened among the McAllisters and the Wilcoxes — or the de la Pazes — as far as she knew, but it was a big world out there, with plenty of clans who might have members among them who wanted to do whatever they could to score an advantage.

Marc sat up a little straighter, as if something had just occurred to him. “Do you know which clan the amulet came from?”

“It would have disappeared more than a hundred and fifty years ago,” she pointed out, but her companion didn’t appear too put off by that argument.

“Maybe so, but still, isn’t it possible that someone might have just found out about it and tried to track down where it went?”

Such a possibility had never even entered Bellamy’s mind, and yet she thought Marc might be on to something here.

“I guess so,” she allowed. “I know the guy Seth and Devynn took it from was named Lawrence Pratt and that he came from Minnesota…I think…but I have no idea who the witch clan is in that part of the world.”

“Well, I guess we’ll need to ask Devynn and Seth,” Marc replied without missing a beat. “Do you know where we can find them?”

Since it was Sunday and Bellamy knew her friend and her new fiancé always tried to be at the store on the weekends when it was busiest, that question was easy enough to answer. True, they’d have to drive all the way back to Jerome to talk to them, but since this was the only real lead they had, Bellamy couldn’t think of anything better to do.

“Sure,” she said, and added, “They’re in Jerome, at McAllister Mercantile.”

6

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