The Source (Witching Savannah, Book 2) by Horn J.D

Author:Horn, J.D. [Horn, J.D.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2014-06-03T04:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-TWO

At Ellen’s insistence, Iris drove her to meet with Detective Cook. I stood in the kitchen, staring out after their car and trying to take it all in. The air in the house felt thick with tension, so after a few moments I went out to the garden. I found a place at the table and first rested my chin on my hands, then leaned back, placing my right hand as a protective barrier between Colin and the world around us. I couldn’t believe Tucker Perry was dead.

I tried Peter’s number for the third time, but it went straight to voicemail again. I hoped to catch him before he heard from someone else. I texted him, telling him to call me.

Adam had intimated that Tucker’s death seemed somehow similar to Peadar’s. I could only surmise that meant Tucker had been left with a hole punched through him. Tucker had without doubt made plenty of enemies over the years, but how many of them had access, natural or borrowed, to magic? And why was his murder made to look like the accidental harm I caused Peadar’s body? Was the intention to implicate me or just toy with me? Who might have connected the dots between me and the body left at the old powder magazine?

Ryder’s face, twisted in rage, rose up in my thoughts. I’d humiliated him and cost him an appendage. On top of that, he probably blamed me for what he’d done to Birdy. Could he be trying to seek revenge? I’d assumed he’d arrived in Savannah after Peadar’s death, but he’d been awfully proud about his ability to follow me around without attracting my notice. Maybe he’d been here early enough to witness what had happened at the powder magazine?

I needed to find out just when Claire had contacted Ryder. I reached for my phone and almost clicked on her number, but was derailed by the thought that Ryder had been granted the powers of a collector by a witch. A real witch. And there were so many witches who had been unhappy to see me chosen as anchor. If I were somehow Ryder’s true target, there was any number of witches, half of them from my own extended family, who might have sent a collector to do their dirty work for them. Maybe Claire had just been a puppet? Had she somehow been influenced to contact Ryder? Had her distrust of Emmet been fed by magical means? I hated myself for making Tucker’s death, Ellen’s tragedy, all about me, but I suspected due to the circumstances, it might actually be all about me.

My left hand sought out the locket my mother had given me, pulling it out from beneath my shirt. The feel of it caused my analytic mind to switch off and my emotions to take over. I knew I had to be strong for Ellen, but I was deeply afraid. I craved my mother’s comfort and wanted the reassurance of her scent, her embrace, but

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