One Minute to Midnight by Jane Hinchey

Author:Jane Hinchey [Jane Hinchey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Baywolf Press
Published: 2021-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

“I’m sorry if my reading upset you.” Claudia apologized for the millionth time, while I sat tight-lipped in her tiny airboat, Banks clutched to my chest as we wove our way through the swamp back to Rhalanise.

“It didn’t.” It did. Not that it was her fault, she was just reading what she saw in my palm. My destiny. But now I was full of regret at agreeing to the reading in the first place.

“I’m not saying it’s Detective Lincoln,” she began, the wind whipping her words away. “Just that a new man is coming into your life. The one.”

“I don’t want a new man,” I grumbled, squeezing Banks a little tighter. He squeaked in protest, and I loosened my grip. “Sorry,” I whispered, kissing the top of his head. Not only do I not want a new man, even if one did turn up, he most certainly wasn’t the one. I’d had the one, and he’d died. There was no other one.

“Do you know of any circles being cast last night? Or the night before?” I changed the subject, refusing to dwell on it. Romance was not high on my agenda. Heck, it wasn’t on my agenda at all. I’d given my heart to Mason, and it had died with him, leaving me a broken shell of a woman. And as strange as that may seem to some people, cough, Aunt Tilly, I’m actually okay with it.

“The Moon Circle Coven isn’t meeting until all Hallows Eve. And our last circle was a while ago at the crescent moon.” Claudia, it turns out, was a member of the Moon Circle Coven and had given me great insight into the coven. It was huge. Pretty much every witch who wasn’t a member of the Rhalanise Coven was, by default, a member of the Moon Circle Coven, whether you attended meetings and participated in circle casting or not. Any of those members could have broken out into their own faction, moving into the dark instead of embracing the light.

“Midnight?” Banks looked up at me, his silver eyes flashing. “Ask her about the sigil you found on Elsa.”

Gah, the necklace I’d taken from Elsa’s body had slipped my mind. Leaning down, I rummaged in the backpack at my feet, digging the leather cord and wooden sigil from where I’d hidden it in a secret pocket.

“Does this look familiar to you?” I held it up, the sigil swaying backward and forward as we gently negotiated our way through the bayou. Claudia transversed the waters at a sedate pace compared to Henry, and my stomach was thankful—no motion sickness this time.

Keeping one hand on the rudder, she reached out with the other to examine the sigil. I released my grip on the cord, watching as she gripped the small piece of wooden jewelry between her thumb and forefinger, holding it up to examine it.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t recognize this at all.”

Banks claws flexed, piercing my skin, and I tensed. “Yeah, buddy.” I ran a soothing hand down his back, and he retracted his claws.

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