Page 78 of Shift of Morals
Nothing came to me until I hit close to the area around Evie’s house. Odd.
I put my nose down and followed the strange scent wherever it led me. There were pockets of stronger scent laid around the area, places where the creature or person stayed for a while, waiting or watching.
The scent tugged on a thread of memory, but I couldn’t unravel it yet. Its scent was odd, the smell of burning heatherand cold winds, tinged with rot at its core. Whoever or whatever this was had performed much evil during their lives. No one was born inherently evil. I believed that down to my core.
Actions tainted one’s body and mind, and eventually their magic.
Seymour sat in the pack still as a stone, and I chuffed a laugh. Six months ago, if anyone had told me I’d be hunting rogue magic users with a vicious flytrap sidekick, I would have laughed my ass off.
And now, here we were, held to some odd truce, hunting down the source of magic that had resulted in me being forced into a wedding I never wanted.
Soon enough, the scent trail overwhelmed my thoughts, and all my focus went toward tracking it down. It took almost an hour, but I finally stopped, the scent strongest right at the edge of the fence line.
I lifted my head and stumbled, my back legs going out from underneath me.
We were at the edge of Evie’s property.
I shifted to human form, Seymour’s quiver of alarm his only movement.
Dusk had fallen some time ago, a sliver of moon visible in the sky. I investigated around the fence and area but found nothing strange. Why was the magic here? Did Evie have something to do with it?
I frowned and turned, a hint of a familiar scent in the air making me freeze.
“Hello, Lord,” a male said with a deep, accented voice, his body hidden in shadow.
I inhaled, pulling the scent into my lungs.
This, whoever this was, he was the source.
“And you are?” I asked.
“You can call me Finn.” The man stepped out of the shadows, his hands tucked into his pockets.
I smelled no gunpowder or metal. Surviving a gunshot was easy, but no one liked getting shot, so I was relieved to know he wasn’t carrying any conventional weapons.
“Finn. Is there a reason you’re around this Floromancer’s property?”
The man grinned, his face full of good humor. “Easy to answer. She belongs to me.”
I froze, rage cracking through my veins like ice. But I kept my expression neutral. I needed more information before I attacked without volition. Evie and I had never had many personal conversations. We were usually too busy antagonizing each other to worry about small talk. “Belongs is a strong word,” I said. “Are you a friend of hers?”
“Did you know Evie was once married?” Finn asked.
I did. No one moved here without a thorough background check. “Does it matter?”
“She came to Scotland for a girl’s trip. A getaway to help her heart heal.”
I did not respond. I’d known the divorce was tough on her, as well as one could know who hadn’t been there or experienced the same thing. Her friends were disturbed by the request for an interview but had consented once they knew Evie was okay and trying to find a place to land.
Evie had no idea how deeply we dug into her background when she applied to move here, but once I’d met her, I’d done an even deeper dive. Not that I unearthed all the skeletons in her closet. I’d missed the one standing before me.
“I’m not sure what this has to do with me,” I said politely.
A strange, crimson haze rolled over Finn’s eyes. His jaw tightened. “She ran from me, Lord. And I am here to claim her.”
Right. Pretty sure I was going to have to kill this fucker and put his body in a hole so deep no one would ever find him. I inhaled again, holding his scent in my mind. He’d never be able to run from me again now that I had it.
Finn smiled. “Nice trick. But I have tricks of my own.” His scent abruptly cut off, leaving only the crisp smell of wind and trees in my nose.
