Andreas’s immediate concern was the security breach. “I saw no sign of a struggle. How did the witches get past security without raising an alarm?”

“I can only think of one way. They teleported. Caught the guards without warning.” Ari climbed into Spirit Cave. “But I want to know what they were doing. They wouldn’t have conjured a barrier unless they hoped to keep you out while they were doing something else.” She scrutinized the debris that covered the carved symbol and let out a pent-up breath. No sign of disturbance, but she felt the residue of the coven’s presence all around her.

“Can they do that? The teleport thing?” Gabriel looked rather awed, but his mouth firmed in worry. “It sounds like they could pop in anywhere.” He gave a wary glance over his shoulder.

“It would take a lot of coordinated effort. And a powerful priestess. But yes, a strong coven willing to use the necessary black magic incantation could do that.” She studied the rest of the room, moving her hands over the air surface to feel the energy vibrations. “I don’t feel a disturbance of the ley lines. No one has attempted to use the vortex to transport in or out. But the room is tainted with the coven’s corruption. They must be looking for the bloodstone.” She pressed a finger against her lower lip. “But why? Unless they hope to harness its power.”

Andreas frowned. “Is that possible? To take the power of an amulet and use it to enhance their own?”

Ari lifted her shoulders in a classic I-don’t-know gesture. “It’s not unheard of. I’m not familiar with the bloodstone’s magic, but if I had to guess, I’d say a witch with the proper training in earth magic could do it. The coven must know the history of the stone—enough to know it’s here, so I’m sure they’ve studied its abilities. And they’ve concluded it would be useful.” She frowned in thought. “But for what? I don’t understand why they need more power.”

Both vampires stared at her. “Is the answer not obvious?” Andreas asked. “Power draws to power. Those who have it usually want more of it.”

“Not witches. That’s not how we think. At least not white witches. Maybe the black magic has affected that too. All witches become more powerful as we learn to use and control our magic. And, that’s a good thing, a source of pride even, but power is a by-product of perfecting our craft for most of us. Not a goal. It’s almost unheard of for a coven to aggressively seek an outside source, especially in someone else’s territory.” She shook her head in disbelief. “When we’re done here, I’ll call Moriana, my former witch mentor in St. Louis. Maybe she’ll have some insight on this kind of coven behavior. It’s totally foreign to me.” Ari moved to the area where she knew the Indian carving was under her feet. “For now, I want to test the theory Gabriel and I discussed.”

She held her right arm out following the sight line of the extra piece that angled north and slightly east from the top of the lightning symbol. When she was certain she had it right, she wiggled her fingers and fired the lowest-level stun of her witch fire. A pale blue line of energy arced from her fingers toward a crack in the far wall.

“What are you doing?” Andreas raised his voice. “Is someone in here?”

She heard a pop as the stun struck something. “No, I’m sorry. I should have warned you. I’m just trying to follow the line.” She ran over to peer in the crevice and saw a burn mark on the back wall of the shallow opening. She stuck her hand in and felt around.

Gabriel was right beside her, explaining their theory to Andreas. “We thought the extra line might be a pointer, and the bloodstone would be at the end.” He looked hopefully at Ari. “Feel anything?”

She shook her head, her ponytail swaying from side to side, as she continued to explore the hole. “Not yet. We looked in here before and found nothing, but it’s kind of a little pocket in the rock. There’s room to hide something.” Hope seeped into her voice. “There’s something in the silt on the bottom.” She searched blindly with her fingertips. “Never mind. Just a rock. The sides seem solid.” She pointed the flashlight up and put her head close to the opening, peering inside. “The top looks like it goes up about a foot. That’s all.” She pulled her hand out and stepped back, disappointment filling her. “Nothing but dirt.” She wiped her hand on her jeans. “Sorry, Gabriel, I guess we need to come up with another theory. But it was a great idea.”

“Oh, sure.” Gabriel snorted. “Wound me with faint praise. Great ideas don’t count for much. I was hoping for at least gold doubloons. Couldn’t Blackhawk hide his little stone in a pile of genuine pirate treasure?”

Ari curved her lips in response to Gabriel’s attempt to lighten the mood. She gazed around the room. The bloodstone was here somewhere. Why couldn’t they find it? They’d checked every hole and crack. There simply weren’t any places they hadn’t already searched.

Had they misread Blackhawk’s words? Had someone found and stolen the bloodstone years ago? Was it only residual magic she felt? What did the coven know that she didn’t?

Ari turned toward the entrance. She needed to find the coven and demand some answers, but she didn’t want to go unprepared. Black witches were out of her expertise. A little advice from a more experienced witch just might be what she needed. Moriana knew everything.

* * *

Or almost everything. Ari called her witch mentor the moment they reached Andreas’s office at the club, but the St. Louis witch couldn’t give her the answers she wanted, only words of caution. “Practitioners of the dark arts don’t think like we do, witchling. Black magic demands a payment, a piece of your soul. It corrupts those who use it. If you must find them, perform your scrying spell during their evening rituals. The High Priestess’s trace will be strongest then.” Moriana hesitated. “Be very careful, Arianna. A bad witch can be worse than a demon.”

After the conversation ended, Ari couldn’t shake Moriana’s chilling words. Her former teacher held awesome powers and rarely considered the risks from other beings. Moriana’s warning had put Ari on edge.

“Worrying won’t help.” Andreas rose from his desk, glided across the room, and placed his arms around her. “I can see her words upset you, but there is little more you can do tonight. Why don’t you go home and rest? I will continue to search for the missing guards. If there is news, I will let you know.”

She rested her cheek against the front of his shirt, listening to his steady heartbeat as she allowed him to shoulder their problems, at least for the moment. It was a vulnerability she never quite shared with anyone else.

“I might do that. But I want to stop at my apartment first to pick up the scrying bowl. I’ll need it to track the coven.”

He stiffened. “Perhaps I should go with you. If the witches are as powerful as you say, none of us should be alone.”

“Your people need you here, helping with the search for the guards. I’ll be fine. It’s just a quick stop.”

“Will you take Russell and Lilith with you?”

Instead of arguing, Ari nodded, and he seemed satisfied. Truthfully, she was glad to have the company of the werelion husband-and-wife team. The ex-mercenaries not only provided security for the supper club but had become good friends over the last year. Normally working days, they’d been called in to cover the club when Andreas took most of his staff to the cavern collapse. Now he was back, and they were free to leave.

She found the lions next door in the security room. Lilith perched on the desk, her spiky black hair even more rumpled than usual. Russell’s stormy face showed they’d been arguing. Not unusual for them. And not so different from Ari and Andreas. Lilith had pointed out the similarities ad nauseam. At least they agreed the making up was usually worth the preceding fireworks.

“Want to go for a walk?” she asked, coming in unannounced. “I plan to pick up some things from my apartment, and, well…you know Andreas.”

“He’s worried about trouble,” Lilith finished.

“I’m coming,” Russell growled and sprang to his feet. “Anything rather than sit here. I hope somebody gives me an excuse to take them down.”

“Hey, Russell. Chill out. I doubt if we’ll see any hostiles.” When Ari noticed the gun he was shoving into his belt, her lips twitched. “I hope you don’t plan to shoot strangers on the street.”

Russell looked startled, then grinned. “Overeager, huh? When there’s trouble I hate sitting behind a desk. It makes me irritable.”

“You can say that again. We were working up to a knock-down, drag-out fight over nothing.”

Ari rolled her eyes. “As if you didn’t love it. Come on. Let’s go.”

The streets were nearly deserted, and within minutes, Ari turned the key in her apartment lock. The instant the door swung open she leaped backward into the hallway. In reaction, Russell and Lilith pulled their guns, stepping sideways to avoid a potential line of fire from inside the apartment.

“Witches,” Ari hissed. She listened, reaching out with her magic. “I think they’re gone, but stay here.”

“Not gonna happen,” Lilith whispered.

Russell didn’t bother to say anything. He slipped around the women and disappeared into the darkened room. Ari followed close behind, flipping on the light switch. Without another word, they quickly checked her efficiency apartment. Ari took the bath, Lilith the closet, Russell looked under the bed. Finding nothing, Ari stood with her hands on her hips and surveyed the kitchen floor.

“How childish.” Potions and ingredients usually stored in her pantry had been swept off the shelves. Jars opened and dumped. They’d made a mess. No real harm done, but the coven had thumbed their collective noses at her. Ari was pissed. “It’s almost as if they’re daring me to try to stop them. Why are they making this personal?”