Page 72 of Wicching Hour

“Have you tried checking your visions?” Bracken asked. When I looked up, expression confused, he continued. “Touch the wrapper again, but this time, tell the vision to show you the reflection. It might not work, but it’s worth a try.”

I nodded, grinning. “It is.” I slid off both my gloves this time and held out my hands to Declan. He squeezed water into one palm. I rubbed my hands together, placed my hands on my face, and smelled the deep blue. Keeping one hand on my face, I held out the other toward Declan, who rolled the wrapper out of the bag and into my hand.

When I saw the woman watering again, I thought,Show me the reflection. The vision jumped to the bathroom. When he opened the cabinet door, I told it to freeze. I had the nose wrong. It was a bit more bulbous at the end than I’d drawn. I could see part of a black t-shirt and what looked like the top of a tattoo, barely peeking over the neck of his shirt. When I knew I had it, I opened my eyes and dropped the wrapper back into the bag.

I put my gloves back on, picked up my pencil, and motioned for Hernández to return the drawing. I looked up at Bracken. “Brilliant. Thank you.”

He nodded and waited with the others to see what I was going to do.

After fixing the nose, I drew the t-shirt and tattoo. I also shaded his cheek. It was more sunken in than I’d drawn, like he’d lost weight recently. Was he sick?

I showed the revised drawing to Hernández, pointing at the tattoo. “It’s low enough that if he wears collared shirts like Jake’s, no one would ever see it. I know we can only see the tops here, but I think that’s and S and an M.”

“That could be a C,” she said.

Declan studied the image. “The curve is too tight.”

Curiosity was getting to Tyler, so he moved back over to our side and stood beside Bracken, craning his neck to see. Brow furrowed, he motioned to Jake. “Look at this. Is that what I think it is?”

Bracken and Tyler moved back so Jake could get closer. Declan must have explained to them while I was in the vision why I didn’t like people crowding around me.

Jake leaned over and stared at it a moment and then started unbuttoning his shirt. He took off one sleeve and showed us his biceps. Tyler put his hand over most of the tattoo, so only the top of the S and M were visible. They were identical.

Grinning in triumph, Tyler dropped his hand, exposing Jake’s USMC tattoo. “The letters are drawn in an arc. That’s why we can only see the middle two. The killer was a Marine.”

“Nice!” I put up a gloved hand and he high-fived me.

“He may not have been one,” Hernández said. “He may have just wanted to be one, but it gives me somewhere to look. Thank you.” She looked at all of us as she said it, pocketing her notebook. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, read a text, and said, “Osso says the lab confirms poison, so he’s picking up Swan now.”

“That was quick.” I pulled out my own phone and texted Mom and Gran. “We need to be prepared for retribution. There’s no way Milo is rolling on his grandmother and she, I believe, is the power in the family.” I looked at Bracken, checking.

He nodded. “I don’t know anything about the younger generation, but in my time, Catherine was the strongest of them. The fact that she still heads the family leads me to believe she still is, but that’s conjecture on my part.”

“Okay, I need to check out this Marine theory. Thanks again,” Hernández said, walking away with the evidence bag while texting.

I blew out a breath. “Okay, well, I’m as warded as I can be.” I turned to Bracken. “I made a fae ward that Cal should have no power to break. I included your home as well, of course.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I must admit, ever since you had that vision of a man setting fire to the gallery and my home, I’ve been having a hard time relaxing.” He patted his chest, and I got it. It’d been plaguing me too.

“Fire?” Jake asked, his shirt buttoned up and his arms crossed over his chest.

I nodded. “Yeah, I had a vision—Oh! Bracken, wait!” I ran in my studio and looked on my coffee table, my end table, the kitchen counter, my worktable. Where was it?

Declan stood in the doorway. “What are you looking for?”

“The map,” I cried in desperation. “Where’s the map?”

He pointed at my pants. “You pulled it out of your pocket this morning.”

I patted down my pockets, found it, and almost passed out. What was wrong with me? Running back out to the deck, I said, “Look what the queen gave me.” I showed my great-uncle.

Excited, he pulled his notebook out of his pocket and took the poorly drawn map out so we could compare them.

Tyler whispered, “Did she say queen?”

“Yes,” Bracken said. “Look. The queen’s mark is very close to where theshadesare indicated here.”

“I mean technically,” I began, “the map was made by one of the queen’s scouts. She just gave it to me because I was able to read her.”

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