I fought the instinct to run over to her. The specter of death wasn’t hovering nearby, which meant she was hurt and unconscious rather than in any immediate danger of dying, and it was more than possible that this was yet another trap.

I studied the clearing through narrowed eyes but couldn’t see any indication of evil. Nor was there any sort of shimmer to indicate magic was present, although remnants of it floated in the air, the broken threads glinting softly whenever the wisp’s cool light caressed them.

I carefully moved forward. The wisp spun in a quick circle, once again urging me to hurry. I didn’t. I had no idea what had happened here, and no desire to run into any more trouble. I might not be able to see any active spells, but those floating thread remnants indicated magic had been in use. And while I’d undergone full witch training—up until I’d fled Canberra and my family, anyway—I had no doubt there were avenues of magic, and mountains of spells, that I had absolutely no awareness of. It was more than possible that these threads were not actually broken, but part of one such spell.

The closer I drew to Anna, the more apparent it became that she’d been caught in some sort of explosion. Much of her upper chest had been burned—and, in some places, quite badly. I grabbed my phone and called in the medics, then stepped warily into what remained of the protection circle. While most of its energy had seeped out through the break, the remaining remnants spoke of its power. It was far stronger than anything I could have formed, and yet it hadn’t been able to withstand the force brought against it.

If I had attempted to unravel the spell around the bloodstone, I probably would have ended up dead rather than merely burned and broken.

The wisp’s light began to pulse, its rhythm matching Anna’s increasingly erratic breathing. I scanned the inner sanctum of the pentagram yet again, and then took that final step, my heart pounding so fiercely I swear it was trying to tear out of my chest. Nothing untoward happened, but I didn’t dare relax. This attack, like almost every other one the vampire had been involved in, spoke of planning. I wouldn’t put it past him to have placed a final “gotcha” to ensure his scheme did not go awry a third time.

Close up, Anna’s condition looked even more critical—there were some areas of skin so severely burned it looked charred. Had the pendant exploded? It would certainly account for her injuries, though surely any such spell would have been so intense—so metaphysically heavy—that someone with Anna’s knowledge should have at least seen the trigger before she tripped it.

I dug out the two bottles of water I had in the backpack, pulled the stopper off the holy water, and carefully poured it over the worst of her burns. I had no idea if it had any advantage over regular water, but if it did, then those areas certainly needed it. When it was gone, I continued the process with the drinking water, until the remnants of her shirt was soaked and the tremors assailing her eased just a little.

Until the medics got here, there was nothing else I could do for her other than keep an eye on her breathing and hope she didn’t go into full shock.

I got out my phone again, and called Aiden.

“Liz?” His voice was husky and tired. “Is there another problem?”

“Yes—I just found Anna. She’s badly hurt but alive.”

“Fuck,” he all but groaned. “What’s happened?”

“She tried unpicking the magic on that bloodstone pendant I found.”

Sheets rustled as he climbed out of bed—which surprised me, given the full moon. Tired or not, I would have thought he’d be out running under the moonlight with the rest of his pack.

That other, more foolish part of me also noted there was no background murmur of protest, or indeed any other sound to indicate that he was sharing the room with another. It certainly didn’t mean there wasn’t someone in either his life or his bed, but the ridiculously attracted part of me couldn’t help hoping that was exactly what it meant.

“Where are you?”

“In the same clearing I found Karen in.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

I battered away the mental images of him getting dressed. However pleasant those images might be, it was hardly appropriate for my hormones to be getting giddy when there was someone lying unconscious and in trouble at my feet. “I’ve called the medics.”

“Good. Don’t move—but don’t take any risks, either.”

“I won’t.” I hung up, put the phone away, and waited.

Precisely nine minutes and three seconds later, the wisp’s light went out and Aiden appeared. He was once again wearing loose-fitting sweats, but this time his feet were bare and his hair was as scruffy as the whiskers lining his chin. A small pack was slung over one shoulder.

He paused when he saw me, his gaze quickly sweeping the clearing before returning. Though his expression gave little away, I nevertheless felt both his frustration and relief. The latter had my pulse skipping a beat or two.

“The medics are a minute behind me.” He strode forward. “Is she still alive?”

“Yes, but severely burned.”

He knelt beside me, his knee brushing mine. “It looks like she was caught in an explosion.”

“There must have been some sort of spell attached to the pendant, as the closed circle would have stopped an outside force from getting in or attacking her.”

He glanced around as two men entered the clearing and motioned them over. “So the force of the explosion also erased her pentagram?”

“I think so.” I rose and stepped away to give the medics room. “I can’t see how else this could have happened.”

“Have you done a search of the area yet?”

“No, but we need to. There’s no sign of her athame, and she would have used it to cast the circle.”

“I take it an athame is made of silver?”

“Yes, although the handle will be wood and the blade single-edged rather than double.”

“Single-edged or not, I wouldn’t want anyone accidentally stumbling onto it. Not with the damage that stuff can do to us.” He handed me a flashlight and then motioned toward the area on the left. “You check that side, I’ll check this.”

I nodded. Using the top point of the pentagram—the one traditionally representing spirit—as my starting point, I started walking up and down, carefully examining every inch of the clearing. I couldn’t find anything, though the lack of bloodstone shards was hardly surprising. The small stone would have disintegrated under the force being channeled through it.

I was walking back to my starting point when a bright flicker in the trees to the right caught my attention. I paused, and the light pulsed again. The wisp might have fled when Aiden had walked into the clearing, but it hadn’t gone too far.

I switched direction and hurried into the trees.

“Liz?” Aiden said.

“Hang on,” I replied. “I just have to check something.”

Again the wisp’s light pulsed. I climbed over a felled tree trunk and saw what it had wanted me to find—Anna’s athame. I took out my phone, took a couple of photos to record its position for Aiden, then tugged my sleeve over my hand and carefully picked it up. While silver couldn’t cause me any harm, most witches from royal lines tended to be rather fussy about who handled their ceremonial items. I had no idea if Anna was one of those, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

There was no physical evidence of damage to either the blade or the hilt, but even through the protective layer of my sleeve, I could feel the uneasy energy clinging to the knife. It was the same sort of energy that had been used against the café’s defenses this evening, and it was all the confirmation I needed that the vampire had also been behind this attack.

Not that I ever had much doubt about that.

I glanced up at the wisp. “Thank you so much for all your help tonight, my friend.”

The wisp spun in a circle and emitted a ridiculously high-pitched noise. I had no idea what it meant, but it seemed rather pleased with itself.

I climbed over the tree, then returned to the clearing

“Is that her athame?” Aiden said.

I nodded. “The symbols on the hilt—which represent peace and harmony—are the ones traditionally used by the Kang line of witches.”

“Is there anything else on it? A spell remnant or something?”

“It’s been stained by whatever spell was behind the blast, but that’s it, I think. I’d still advise against anyone touching it with bare hands, just in case.”

“Given it’s silver, you can be sure none of us will.” He studied the knife for a second, his expression wary. “What are the chances of tracing the vampire through the staining?”

“None at all.”

I glanced around as a twig cracked and saw Hart step into the clearing. He looked as ragged and tired as I felt, and that inordinately cheered me up.

His gaze swept the scene then hit mine almost accusingly. “What the fuck was Anna doing up here?”

“Trying to trace the vampire.”

“She sent me a text stating she intended to, but I wasn’t expecting it to happen tonight or in the middle of goddamn nowhere.” He thrust a hand through his hair. “Is she going to live?”

One of the medics glanced up. “Yes, but you may not be able to talk to her for a couple of days.”

Hart nodded, his expression gloomy. “This bastard certainly seems to have luck on his side.”

“Indeed,” Aiden agreed. “Did you uncover any information about Frieda Andersen or her family?”

“We tracked down her birth certificate. Her mother’s name was Jenny Andersen and her dad John.” He grimaced. “The former has apparently disappeared off the face of the earth, and the latter has retired and is living in the Adelaide hills.”

“Have you talked to him?” I asked. “Did you ask why he and his wife split?”

Hart’s gaze flicked to me in a somewhat dismissive manner. “There is no need to, given we’ve confirmation he was still there as of yesterday, and so cannot be our vampire.”

“Yes, but from what Marjorie told me, the man Jenny and Frieda were living with had a small stable of women. That suggests a pod, and John might at least be able to confirm that if indeed she left him for a vampire.”

His eyebrows rose. “No one else I’ve talked to made any mention of a pod existing within the reservation.”

“Did you actually ask anyone else about Frieda’s family?” Aiden asked.

“Of course I did. Everyone mentioned they were strange, but no one mentioned anything about a pod.”

“Well no, but it’s an easy enough conclusion to draw after the fact.” And it wasn’t like vamps went about advertising their presence—that was the surest way of getting booted out of a town.

Hart grunted, his expression even less pleased than usual. “I’ll request someone talk to him.”

I watched as the medics carefully slid Anna onto the stretcher, then said, “You’d also better contact Anna’s family. They’ll need to know about this.”

“I do know how to do my job,” Hart snapped, and followed the two medics from the clearing.

“If you’re not careful,” Aiden murmured, “you’ll join Tala and me on IIT’s most-hated list.”

“That warning comes about a day too late, I think.” I glanced up at him. “Can I ask you again about the previous witch?”

The amusement that had been teasing his expression quickly fled. “Why?”

“Because Anna said something really interesting when I was talking to her, and I’m just wondering if it was possible.”

“Can you seriously not talk in riddles right now? My brain isn’t up to handling it.”

I smiled. “She said Gabe was still here—that she could feel his presence and his magic here.”

“Impossible,” he said. “Even with magic, there is no way he could avoid being scented or seen by someone in the reservation.”

“That’s what I said, but if the impossible is true, then I need to find him. He might be able to help counter the strength of our blood witch.” I hesitated. “At least tell me the circumstances under which he left, even if you don’t want to give me full names.”

He studied me for a moment, his expression closed and giving very little away. “Fine, but not here and not now. I’ve got to record the crime scene, and we both need some sleep. I’ll drop by later today.”

I hesitated and then nodded. Despite the growing sense of time running out, it wasn’t as if him telling me right now would make that much difference. I was all but dead on my feet. I might have enough strength to get me home, but anything else was beyond me.

I held up the knife. “What do you want me to do with this?”

He hesitated. “Technically, it’s evidence, but I have no way of safely handling it. Take it with you, and keep it somewhere secure. If we need it, I’ll let you know.”

I swung off the pack and carefully tucked the knife away. “I took some photos of its position before I picked it up. I’ll send them to you if that’s helpful.”

“It would be. Thanks.” He hesitated. “Will you be all right getting back?”

“I think so.” I wondered how he would have reacted if I’d said otherwise, and then decided it was better not to know. He probably would have just dragged one of his people out of bed, and there were already enough of us going without sleep. “Night, Aiden.”

A smile briefly teased his lips. It only made me wish he’d put more effort into it.

“Given the time, good morning is more appropriate.”

“A fact I have no desire to acknowledge.” I hesitated, wanting to add something in order to simply remain in the presence of this frustrating, enigmatic man. But he had a job to do and I needed sleep. So I simply nodded and left.

But the night’s twists hadn’t yet ended. Maelle Defour was waiting for me at the café’s door.

I stopped abruptly and gave her a somewhat tense smile. “To what do I owe this honor?”

“I have some information about your rogue vampire,” she said, her tone mellow and friendly.

“Then you’d better come in and tell me.” I dug the keys out of the backpack. “Because I have no intention of conversing with anyone in the damn cold night air.”

She raised an immaculately groomed eyebrow. “You do realize that once you invite me over the threshold, you cannot subsequently forbid me from entering.”

“Except that I’m a witch,” I replied, swinging the door open. “And the magic that protected this place from the other vampire’s assault this evening will also prevent you from entering if you intend either Belle or myself harm.”

“That you can cast such a spell is yet another indication that you are not the lowly witch you claim.”

She followed me into the café without hesitation. The remaining threads didn’t even flicker, and the tension that had briefly risen disappeared just as quickly.

“Coffee or tea?” I asked. “Or don’t you vampires partake of those sort of fluids?”

“It would be hard to keep our anonymity amongst the general public if we did not.” She tugged off her gloves and perched somewhat regally on a chair. “A green tea would be lovely, if you have it.”

I went behind the counter and pulled the kettle out. It was far easier than booting up the coffee machine. “I have seven varieties of green tea. The menu is on the table.”

She briefly glanced at it and then said, “The pear one, thank you. Did the vampire cause that mess in his attack?”

“Yes. He brought backup in the form of a gun for hire.”

I skimmed my hand over our remaining cups, eventually choosing a traditional rose-decorated one with a gold rim for her, and a plain white one for me. Cheery was beyond me right now. Once I made both pots of tea, I carried everything over and sat down opposite her.

“I thought you said earlier that you didn’t know anything about our vampire.”

“I didn’t.” She picked up her teapot and began to pour. The aroma of pear and jasmine teased the air. “But given his exploits endanger my position here, I contacted the registrar and enquired.”

“Registrar? Who’s that?”

Her cool gaze swept me. Judged me. “It’s a what rather than who.” She raised the cup and smiled. “I had a set similar to this when I lived in France back in the eighteen hundreds—a pleasant era in which to be a vampire. I suspect its selection was deliberate.”

And I suspected she was even older than what she was admitting. “I do prefer to raise happy memories for our customers.”

“That is a very good business practice.” She took a sip of the tea. “The registrar is an organization that holds the records of every vampire created.”

I blinked. “Is this a government initiative?”

Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hardly. Even in this day and age, the government can’t be relied on to protect such explosive information. And in the wrong hands, it could be used to track down and kill every rebirth in Australia.”

“So this organization not only records a vampire’s existence, it keeps track of their movements?”

“All vampires must be registered, but it does not track their movements. It has no need.”

I frowned. “Then why register them in the first place if not to keep track of their whereabouts?”

“Does not the witch council keep a register of all births, be they full or half-bloods?”

“Well, yes, but more because there are only six lines of witches and there’s a need to keep track of lineage to ensure there’s no chance of close kin marrying.” I sipped my tea then added, “I wouldn’t have thought that to be a problem vampires have.”

“Indeed it is not. The registrar doesn’t track their movements, simply because all vampires must report a location change to ensure there’s no overlap of territory.”

“I’m betting there’re vampires out there who do not obey that rule.” Ours was undoubtedly one of them, otherwise surely this registrar mob would have dealt with him.

“That has certainly happened, but it’s also a situation that is quickly dealt with.”

“How?”

She smiled. “Let’s just say that the registrar has the means of finding every vampire in existence if they so desire—even those who have gone AWOL.”

“Intriguing.” And smart. Given the precarious position of vampires in the community, having a means of dealing with those vampires who went rogue was totally sensible—even if history suggested they weren’t always dealt with in time to save lives.

“I take it, then, that it was this organization who gave you the information about our vampire?”

She nodded. “As I’m sure you’re aware, it’s very unusual for any vampire to hold such control of magic. That gave them a good starting point, and it didn’t take them too long to find his file.”

I leaned forward and crossed my arms. “And?”

“His name before rebirth was Frederick Waverley. He was transported to Australia at the age of twenty for murdering his cousin in a duel of magic. He became a vampire thirty years later.”

“So he is a witch.” Even if one from the lower houses. “Is there any indication as to why he made the decision to become a vampire? Because that’s a rare step for a witch to take.”

“Why do men do so many things?” Her smile was one of cool amusement. “Of course, vampires by nature are loners and predators. Once he was in full control, he was released, as is our way.”

“Was his maker also a blood witch or sorcerer? Because as a Waverley, he wouldn’t have been born with the power he now has.”

“She was not,” Maelle said. “But it is not uncommon for those who must survive on blood to sometimes use it to enhance their powers in other areas.”

Trepidation stirred. “Have you dabbled in such enhancement?”

Her smile was oddly predatory, even if it held no immediate threat. “I certainly have a small understanding of it, but no more than that. Such study is not without its risks, and I have no desire to fall down that particular rabbit hole.”

“Would madness be one of those risks?”

“Not madness, not as such. But a singularity of thought and inability to think beyond their own wants and needs, yes.”

Singularity of thought was certainly an apt description for Frederick Waverley’s current actions. “Have you any idea how long he was here the first time?”

“The records have it listed as five years, though he did not come into Castle Rock itself until the latter stages of that period.”

“And he’d formed a pod by that time.”

It was a statement more than a question, but she nodded in affirmation anyway. “And one of those women had a daughter by the name of Frieda. She had been gifted with blood.”

Surprise rippled through me. Though I’d initially suspected the pod’s abrupt departure from the reservation was indicative of that possibility, it made Waverley’s current determination to avenge Frieda’s death that much stranger.

“So she’s alive?”

“No. Though her initiation and subsequent turning was indeed registered, the transfer wasn’t fully successful, and she wasted away ten days later.”

“I didn’t even know it was possible for the blood sharing to fail.”

“It always depends of the strength and mental stability of both the host and the turnee.” She shrugged. “It is obvious that, in this case, neither were up to scratch.”

It also meant Frieda could have taken her life so she could rise and take revenge on those who’d made her life hell—and that the note had been nothing more than subterfuge.

“Does this mean the registrar can pinpoint Frederick’s location for us?”

“Within a certain radius, yes.” She reached into her pocket then slid a piece of paper across the table to me. On it was a coordinate range—and it seemed an overly large area in which to search to me. But I guessed it was better than nothing. “There’s one other thing you need to be aware of.”

I raised my eyebrows. “And that is?”

“The means of possible survival if indeed you find yourself caught in the trap of his magic.”

Possible, not probable. But still, a slight chance was better than none at all. “I’m interested.”

“As indeed you should be, given you are neither a fool nor weak.” Her cool smile flashed again, but there was something in her tone, something that skirted the compliment and spoke instead of caginess. “Whatever else Frederick has become, whatever power he has drawn to him, he is in the end still a vampire—and one that has more than certainly fallen down the rabbit hole. Blood—human blood—will always distract him.”

I stared at her, my heart suddenly racing in my chest. It said a lot for her self-control that there wasn’t even a flicker of awareness in her eyes, nor any sign of hunger.

“Using myself as bait like that would be a very dangerous step to take.” And one I might not survive.

“Indeed it would.” She finished her tea and replaced the cup on the saucer. The normally cheery chime of china against china sounded more like a death knell. “But if he is magically stronger than you, or if he places you in a situation where you cannot access your own magic, then the blood rapture will perhaps be your one chance. If nothing else, it will give others the time to kill him.”

I rose with her, my heart still racing rather uncomfortably. “If the registrar knew he was unstable, why wasn’t he dealt with before now?”

“Because they were not aware of the situation until I informed them. They also cannot move without proof of crime—which we now have, given he has been located in this reservation, and I am the only registered vampire in the area.”

“So they’re now on their way to deal with him?” Meaning neither Aiden nor I had to?

She hesitated. “Because we are within a reservation, the situation is a little trickier. They will certainly approach the council for permission to do so when they arrive here.”

“And when is that likely to be?”

“They have not given me an exact time, but it will be sometime within the next twenty-four hours.”

“That may not be quick enough.” Not if the gnawing sensation in my gut was anything to go by.

“There is nothing I can do about that.” She paused at the door and gave me a polite nod. “Until next we meet, young Elizabeth.”

“Thanks for the information,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

“As you should.” This time, amusement edged past the coolness in her pale eyes. “It is not every day I am so overly helpful.”

“Then why have you been so now?”

“Because I have discovered over the long years of my life that when there are two powers within a given district, it is always better that they at least be respectful of one another. It is certainly preferable to a relationship based on animosity and distrust—that only ever ends badly.”

Which was a warning, even if it was pleasantly said. “A sentiment I agree with.”

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.”

With that, she left. I watched until she disappeared around a distant corner, and then closed the door and went upstairs.

Sleep hit hard and fast, but so too did the dreams.

Aiden featured prominently, as did shoes.

Not just any shoes, but black-and-white wingtips.

Wingtips that were saturated in blood.