Page 18

“No, because we’ll link a shield to the shavings. That’ll result in the white ash’s properties infusing the spell and means they won’t easily be able to dismantle said spell without endangering their own lives.”

“I’m betting Marie will just get one of her subordinate vamps to take the risk.”

“Most likely, but he or she will pay the price, and that’ll mean one less vamp for us to deal with.”

“They never mentioned shavings when we did the unit on vampires,” Monty said.

“Because those who teach rarely have field experience.” Ashworth’s voice held a hint of contempt. “Need and experimentation is sometimes the best teacher.”

“I’m not going to argue with that,” Monty said.

“That would be a change,” Ashworth said. “Are you feeling all right?”

“He’s only had the one piece of cake,” Belle explained. “His sugar levels are suffering.”

“Ah well, I’ll go easy on the lad then.”

“Thank you,” the lad said dryly.

Silence fell, though it was far from an easy silence, given we were all too aware that what we were racing toward might well be a trap.

Once we were well on our way to the Eureka Reef, Belle handed me the silk bag containing the ring. The minute it hit my palm, the distant pulse of life jumped into focus. A heartbeat later, a thin, shadowy line began to reel out in front of the truck. It was a physical emanation of the link between the ring and Roger—a tracking guide rope, if you will. It was a very recent development, one born of the changes the inner wild magic was making to my psi talents.

“Got him,” I said. “He’s still alive.”

Aiden glanced at me. “Is the connection a strong one?”

“Yes, so we’re close. I’d slow down because who knows when it’s going to rip us off the main road.”

“Knowing your psi senses,” Monty commented, “they’ll do so at the most inappropriate time.”

He’d barely finished saying that when the translucent rope jagged sideways into the trees.

“Like left right now,” I said, even though there really didn’t appear to be a road or track to drive onto.

Aiden swore and yanked the wheel sideways. Tires squealed and the truck rocked violently onto two wheels, forcing me to grip the panic bar to stop being thrown into Aiden’s side. He gunned the engine, the truck thumped back down onto four wheels, and we plunged into trees, branches scraping across the windows and the roof of the truck. We bumped along for several minutes, then the heavier forest gave way to what might mockingly be called a road, though it was little wider than a goat track.

“Remind me never to put something like that into the ether again,” Monty said. “Are we on a track, or just plunging willy-nilly through the forest?”

“It’s hardly willy-nilly, given I am being guided,” I replied.

“That was a serious question aimed at our driver—no answers from the peanut gallery, please.”

I laughed and did a quick handball motion to Aiden.

“It’s one of the old four-wheel driving tracks,” he replied, amused. “The practice was banned quite a few years ago, after several fires were started by hot exhaust pipes.”

“And are there any mines about these parts?”

“Not big enough to lose a truck in.”

“Well, that’s at least something.”

“Given Liz’s tendency to fall down the things, it’s more than merely something,” Aiden said, voice dry.

“That’s a truth no one will argue with.” Belle paused. “Is it my imagination, or is this forest getting darker rather than lighter?”

“Darker,” Ashworth replied. “We broke through a veil several minutes ago.”