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“Oh, that’s going to be a sight to behold.”

“You have no idea. Hang on while I grab him.” She narrowed her gaze, and, through our link, I felt the fierce wash of her mental energy as she reached out and snared the other telepath. After a few seconds, she nodded and pushed away from the SUV. “Right, got him. Let’s go.”

We hurried down the street, cut through the churchyard, and then dropped down into the small service lane. There were three units along this side of the property, and rather handily, all three had back doors. Our target was the last in the line, nearest to the street. I pressed my hand against the door and raised a quick unlock spell. The door also had a chain latch, but that was even easier to undo.

I pushed the door open, waved Belle through, then followed and locked the door behind us. The room was small, consisting of little more than a queen-size bed, a small wardrobe, a bathroom, and one of those old-fashioned meal hatches to the left of the main door. There was a small TV on a swinging arm thingy to the right of that, and on the wall on the other side of the door, an air conditioner.

The gentleman was lying on his side, his head propped up on one hand and a beer clutched in the other. He looked to be in his mid to late thirties and was well-built despite the slight belly he was developing. He was also extremely hairy. With a rug that thick covering his front, back, and legs, it wasn’t any surprisehe’d stripped off to his boxer shorts. Especially since the old air conditioner, while running, didn’t seem to be doing a whole lot.

I walked over to the front window, crossed my arms, and leaned against the frame to keep watch. Belle squatted in front of our captive, plucked the beer from his hand, and placed it on the bedside table.

“If you answer our questions honestly, you will be allowed to leave this reservation without harm. Attempt to lie, shout, break my hold on your mind or in any other way attack me, and I will turn your brain to mush.” She smiled sweetly. “And you know I have more than enough power to do that. Understood? You may nod if so.”

The man obediently nodded.

“Right,” she continued, the force of her telepathic control easing a little, no doubt to allow him to speak. “Why have you returned to the reservation?”

“I was reengaged to neutralize a woman named Isabelle Kent.” He eyed her for a second. “That’s you, I take it?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”

“I was told you were the dark-skinned woman who ran a place called The Psychic Café. She said I shouldn’t have any problems, that you were a Sarr witch and therefore underpowered in both magic and psi skills.” He grimaced. “They lied, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Belle intoned dryly. “Who reengaged you?”

“Marie Bouchier.”

That Marie had made direct contact was a little surprising. She’d seemed the type to let her underlings handle this sort of stuff—but maybe she was simply running out of them.

“How did she get in contact with you?” Belle continued. “And when were you supposed to ‘neutralize’ me?”

“How else does anyone contact anyone? Via a phone, of course.” It was crossly said, though he seemed to be taking thewhole situation rather well, considering. “And it was supposed to happen this afternoon, right after closing time, when you were heading home.”

Meaning Marie isn’t aware you and Monty are staying at the café,I said.Which surprises me—I would have thought she’d have a watcher on the place.

Maybe you’re right—she’s simply running out of manpower.To our captive, she added, “You’ve got her number?”

He reeled it off and then asked, “Who are you, really? Because I’m one of the strongest registered telepaths around, and you snared me like I was a babe.”

“The key to your question isregistered. I’m not. What, exactly, did Marie want you to do once you’d ‘neutralized’ me?”

“I was to bundle you into my car and take you to the address I was given.”

“And that is?”

He gave us map coordinates rather than an actual address.

“And do you know where that is?” Belle asked.

“Up in the Muckleford Nature Reserve, near the Red, White, and Blue Mine, according to Google. I’m supposed to take you there and hand you over.”

I couldn’t help snorting, and he looked at me. “What?”

“Have you met Marie? Face-to-face, I mean,” I asked.

He frowned. “As I said, all our dealings have been via phone, so I’ve never actually met her. But that’s not unusual when it comes to this sort of job. Why?”

“Because,” Belle said, “Marie Bouchier is a very old vampire, and you, no doubt, would have provided a nice little snack once you’d handed me over.”