Though Charlie was used to being the one driving, this time she rode in The Directive’s car. Clarence drove, while Magno sat in the passenger seat. She was in the back with Jana Noskova. She tried not to feel intimidated by the powerful female werewolf, but it was hard not to feel repressed by the aura the other blonde gave off.

Before they’d left her flat, Magno had placed a call to the witch who’d been helping them try to track the killer and asked her to meet them at the location of the last killing. Charlie wasn’t sure what use a witch was going to be, but she guessed Magno knew what he was doing.

Clarence drove fast—far faster than was legally allowed—but Charlie wasn’t about to give him a lecture on the speed limit and road safety. He was a vampire, after all, and an ancient one at that. His reactions were far sharper than any human’s would be, and his eyesight and hearing would alert him to any dangers on the road and allow him to react before they caused a problem.

Even so, that didn’t stop Charlie from leaning forward and gripping the headrest of the seat in front, her knuckles white. Not only did the speed cause her stomach to lurch, but she was also terrified about what might be happening to Ivan. Whoever had taken him meant him harm, of that she was certain. If she lost him now, she didn’t know how she would carry on. She’d been so independent only a matter of days ago, and had prided herself in the fact, but now she’d been shown how it was to have someone in her life, and all of a sudden her previous existence felt lonely and empty. To have found her Bloodmate, only for him to be snatched away again, made her heart ache.

They left the main highway and climbed the narrow roads up into the moorlands. Here, even the vampire was forced to slow down, and the whole car vibrated as they ran over a cattle grid designed to keep the grazing sheep and horses on the moorland where they belonged.

Jana looked over to Charlie. “Are you getting anything yet?”

Charlie closed her eyes again and tried to focus inwards. She pulled a face. “No, I don’t think so, though I don’t even really know what it is I’m feeling for.”

“You’ll know when you feel it,” the werewolf replied. “We probably just need to be closer, and you being in a moving car won’t be helping.”

“I hope you’re right.”

What she feared the most was that the bond between her and Ivan wasn’t as strong as she’d believed. What if they’d got this all wrong, and they weren’t Bloodmates after all, and she was nothing but a fake? But then she remembered how it had been when she’d tasted his blood, how she’d been plunged into the very centre of his memories, as though she were living them for the first time herself. There was no possible way to fake such a thing, and she hadn’t imagined it either. The snow had crunched beneath her feet, and she’d caught the sharp, pungent aroma of gunpowder on the air. She’d experienced Ivan’s grief at being forced to leave his family like it were her own.

All those things had been real. They had a connection unlike any other, and she had to believe in it.

“We’re almost there,” Clarence called over his shoulder.

She knew that already—this was her territory, after all—but that didn’t stop every muscle in her body tensing and her breath growing short in her chest. She was terrified about what they might find and she wasn’t a woman who scared easily. It wasn’t her safety she was afraid for, but that of her Bloodmate’s.

They reached the area where the murders had occurred, and Clarence pulled the car over. Someone was already standing on the side of the road, waiting for them—a young woman with long red hair and flowing skirts. Charlie’s first thought was that the woman must be cold, but if she was, she didn’t show it.

Cautious, Charlie climbed out, and the others followed. Not blessed with the eyesight of the vampires and the werewolf, Charlie used a small torch to light up the surrounding area. The cordon was still in place, but the body had long been taken to the morgue.

The air was cooler out here, the wind sweeping across the moorland. She shivered, suddenly aware of the barrenness of the area, the way there was nothing else for miles. It was a cloudless night, and the stars winked brightly, the moon full and round. At least the full moon meant it wasn’t as dark as it could have been. Even without the torch, she would be able to make out the surrounding rocky tors climbing into the night sky.

The new woman turned to face them as they approached.

“This is Amber Morgan,” Magno said, introducing her. “She’s here to help us. She knows these moorlands and the magic it contains better than anyone.”

“Thank you,” Charlie said to the other woman, who had a large rucksack slung over her shoulder. “I’m Ivan’s Bloodmate and I desperately want him back.”

The witch nodded. “Of course you do. I’m happy to help, if I can.”

Magno continued. “Charlie has a blood bond with Ivan. I believe she may be able to help locate him through it.”

Charlie swallowed hard and nodded, hoping she wasn’t going to let everyone down.

“Can you feel anything now?” Jana pressed.

Magno raised a hand. “Give her a minute.”

Charlie shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I just need to concentrate.”

Taking a breath, she allowed her eyes to slip shut again. Come on, Ivan. Where are you?

Then she felt it, a tugging at her heart, literally as though it were on a string and Ivan was pulling at it, guiding her towards him.

Charlie gasped. “I felt it! He’s this way.”

Without even waiting for confirmation from The Directive, she took off at a trot, following the invisible guidelines of her heart that led her towards her Bloodmate. She sensed the others following but didn’t want to turn her head and check, worried she’d break the connection that drew her.

She kept going but wondered where she was headed. There was nothing but hills, and rocks, and thistle-covered ground out here. No buildings or anything where someone might be keeping Ivan.

She slowed to a staggered walk, turning in a circle, staring around in confusion. “I don’t get it. He should be here, but there’s nothing!”

Magno and Clarence exchanged a glance.

The witch, Amber, spoke up. “I think it might be magic. A masking spell of some kind.”

Charlie frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“He’s here, but it’s like someone’s placed a mirror in front of where they’re keeping him, so we can’t see it.”

“How do we break the spell?” Charlie asked.

“I might be able to do it.” Amber dropped to one knee and began removing items from the bag she’d been carrying. “It’s not foolproof, by any means, but if this is a masking spell, I should be able to stop it from working.”

The tug at Charlie’s heart came again. “Please, you have to hurry. I think they’re hurting him.”

From her bag, Amber took out several short, stubby white candles, a tall black candle, a clay bowl, and a small plastic bag which contained leaves of some kind. She set the shorter candles out in a circle and then placed the tall black one, together with the clay bowl, in the middle. She removed the leaves, which Charlie recognised as being bay, and placed them in the clay bowl.

Amber sat back on her haunches and closed her eyes. She lifted her hand and held it above the circle of candles. “Lux a flamma,” she said beneath her breath. The candles sparked to life with a whumph sound.

Then she picked up the black candle in the centre and used it to set fire to the bay leaves in the clay bowl. Smoke rose from the leaves, and Amber circled her hand within the tendrils as she chanted.

“No more befouled, again unbound, again unbidden,” the witch chanted. “No more befouled, again unbound, again unbidden.”

The air in front of them shimmered, like heat rising from the ground on a hot summer’s day.

“Something’s happening,” Charlie gasped.

Jana shot her a glare. “Shh. Let her concentrate.”

Amber repeated the chant, her eyes closed, her hands held in the smoke created by the burning bay leaves. “No more befouled, again unbound, again unbidden.”

The air shimmered again, and like a mirage appearing in a desert, something began to take shape. The shape filled in, and in a matter of seconds, a cottage appeared in front of them.

Charlie staggered back, her eyes wide. “It’s the cottage from the old myth. The one travellers spot from a distance but can never find.”

“Is Ivan inside?” Magno asked her.

Her sense for her Bloodmate grew stronger, and she nodded. “Yes, but he’s not alone.”