Page 46 of Last Witch Attempt
I wanted to shake him. Part of me wanted to defy him just to prove I could.
“I’ll take Evan,” I promised. “He was always part of the plan.”
“That’s my girl.” He gave me a hard kiss. “This is working out. Let’s see how far we can take it.”
THANKFULLY, I DIDN’T HAVE TO LOOKfar for Evan. When I called him, he was already downtown and willing to meet me in front of Mrs. Little’s store.
“Hello, hot stuff,” I drawled playfully as I approached him.
“I don’t think your husband would be fond of your new nickname for me,” he teased. He didn’t look bothered. “Have you seen this?” He gestured to the shop. “She seems back to normal.”
“She does,” I agreed, bobbing my head. “I talked to her earlier. She was mean, but the normal sort of mean. I think the spell worked.”
“That’s good. Dealing with Mrs. Little on top of everything else would not be fun.”
“Not even a little,” I agreed, rubbing my hands over the hips of my jeans. “Can you go to look at the site with me again? Landon will pitch an unholy hissy fit if I go alone.”
“You shouldn’t go alone,” he replied.
“Not you too,” I complained.
He chuckled. “I’m just saying that we don’t know what we’re dealing with. Going out there alone would be a boneheaded move.” He pinned me with a serious look. “Even Scout wouldn’t.”
That was a bunch of crap and we both knew it. Scout Randall did what she wanted to do. “I want to see the area before it gets dark.”
“Okay. Then we should go.” Evan gave Mrs. Little another look before following me to my car. He could’ve run to the location we were heading in a quarter of the time it would take us to drive there. He could’ve even carried me without breaking a sweat. That wasn’t an option in case anybody saw us, however.
“Tell me what’s going on,” he ordered once he was settled in the passenger seat.
I checked traffic—of which there was none—before backing out. “A few things have happened.” I gave him the rundown. By the time I finished, we were parked on the side of the road where the truck had been discovered the previous evening. Crime scene tape now fenced the trees on the side of the road.
“Are we supposed to be here?” he asked.
“Probably not, but I’m going in. If you’re nervous, you can stay here.”
His lips quirked. “You’re so funny sometimes.” He led the way, and this time there was no meandering. He led me straight to the clearing.
The tape that had been put up the previous evening was still there, fallen to the ground in some places. He hummed as we stepped over it, a melody I didn’t recognize, and then he stood in the center of the clearing and scanned the trees where the bodies had been strung up.
“You know,” he said. “That tree there looks as if it’s even with the other three.” He pointed. “I have to wonder if the tableau wasn’t complete when we found it. Maybe our monster needed another victim.”
“Because the number four is somehow significant?” I challenged.
“There are four directions, four corners if you will,” he replied. “North, south, east, west. That’s significant in magic. There are four elements. Four is often considered a magic number.”
I nodded for him to continue. “Three is often a significant number in magic.”
“That’s why I’ve always found your family so interesting. Your mothers are a threesome. You, Clove, and Thistle are a threesome. The thing with three is that it’s a triangle. The top of the triangle is always more powerful. Sure, you can tip the triangle, but the powerful angle always rises to the top.”
I gave him an interested look as I crossed to the nearest tree that boasted a blood rune. “How does that work?”
“In your house, your mother is the top of her triangle and you’re the top of your triangle. It could be that your mother passed that along to you, something like a birthright. Or it could be a coincidence, because if Tillie had a triangle she would definitely be at the top.”
“Aunt Tillie was really a solo practitioner,” I countered. “Supposedly my grandmother had magic, but it was earth magic and she never wanted to get involved in Aunt Tillie’s games.”
“And the other sister wasn’t a blood sister, correct? I believe her name is Willa.”
I frowned at mention of Aunt Willa. She was not a pleasant person. “She’s a blood sister, just not on the right side. My great-grandfather had a wandering eye. Willa was brought into the home as the youngest sister. I don’t get the feeling she was treated all that well by my great-grandmother, who was cheated on.”
