A Witch and Her Familiar: An Urban Fantasy Mystery (Vanessa Kinley, Witch PI Book 2) by Roman Celia

Author:Roman, Celia
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bone Diggers Press
Published: 2023-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

I told Seth about my conversation with Lisette on the way back from Athens and was unsurprised by his laconic grunt. No long discussions with this one!

Which had its upsides. Once we neared Crossville, I directed him to the impound lot where Damien Hurst’s Escalade was being held. I hadn’t brought my witchy toolkit with me, so I rummaged around in Seth’s truck for a pen and scrap of paper. If I couldn’t draw the damn rune from memory after using it for more than a decade, I didn’t deserve to be called a witch.

A chain link fence topped by barbed wire surrounded the impound lot. The gate was protected by a keypad. I rattled off the access code to Seth and let him punch it in. The gate opened, and we drove along the graveled access paths, following the directions Lisette had given me through the maze of other vehicles awaiting their respective fates.

Seth parked a good fifteen feet away from the Escalade.

The Escalade itself was remarkably intact, despite the fact that Hurst had died in the driver’s seat. I circled the vehicle now, checking for anything out of place. Human cops could read bullet holes, shattered windows, and crumpled fenders like words on a page, but they wouldn’t know a spell sign if it hit them over the head. Runes or hex bags, I thought as I ran my fingers around wheel wells and under fenders. There had to be something.

But there wasn’t, not that I could find. There wasn’t even a bullet hole, shattered window, or crumpled fender. The ME’s report had listed Hurst’s cause of death as a broken neck; yet there were no signs of an accident, nor of a fight inside the vehicle.

Once again, I cursed the lack of evidence in the files Lisette had sent my way.

Sighing, I stopped beside Seth and parked my hands on my hips. “Smell anything?”

“Metal, oil, dirt.” He jerked a chin at a white Transit parked two spaces away. “Marijuana and sex.”

I quirked an eyebrow at Seth. “You can smell that from all the way over here? Can you tell how many people were in there?”

He crossed his arms over his broad chest and glared. “I’m not a bloodhound.”

I bit my lip, hiding a smile. Aw. Poor ickle alpha didn’t like having his senses tested. If we were on better terms, I’d rag him about it, but I was still a little pissed at him. Riding to the rescue this morning hadn’t worn off enough of my anger to make us friends again.

Had we ever been friends?

I shook that question away and pulled out the paper I’d drawn my formerly one-and-only rune onto. Didn’t have a circle around the vehicle, but what the hell. You only live once. Plus, it was just me and Seth out here under the watery November sun. He could survive a lot, and the magic probably wouldn’t hurt me. If a few vehicles got caught in a backlash, eh. Whatevs.

I placed the paper on the hood of the Escalade, rune up, and slapped my palm over it.

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