Page 340 of Castings & Curses

Better yet, what about Kate’s?

She didn’t want to tie the other woman down by dragging her around the country investigating the weird shit that always seemed to fall in her lap. Always on loan to some police department or another, she hadn’t called one place home since she’d left.

Seven years.

It felt longer.

They’d been good, but the tiniest part of her wondered when things were going to settle down. She usually shoved that thought down into the dark places she didn’t think about, but lately, it had been rearing its head more and more often.

So had thoughts of Kate.

She missed her.

Her smell.

Her taste.

Her laugh.

Her.

She also didn’t want to be forced into a relationship because Kate was a witch and she was supposed to follow suit and be her familiar.

It wasn’t in her plan.

But here she was, driving right back into the hornet’s nest.

Familiar landmarks dotted the highway, and her gut tightened with every mile. She would have driven right past the old diner but a text shot through from her old boss and mentor, stopping her in her tracks.

Shit.

She pulled into the dark parking lot and tried to push down the nausea. Popping a couple of papaya tablets, she parked the rental away from the road.

The sky was clear with no clouds. She hated full moons. In her line of work, that meant the whole world usually went ape shit, taking her along for the ride. It was true now more than ever.

Devi took in the dark alley and her nostrils flared. Disgusted, she took a step backward.

It smelled of blood and death. Her inner beast coiled, ready to break free, and she had to dig her nails into her arm to still the urge. Now was not the time. She pressed her hand against the blade hidden in her pocket and sucked in a breath.

Corny and stereotypical, but it was the faith and the meaning behind it that tied her to the spelled knife. That was enough. Kate had matching daggers made for them. With every touch, she felt her power curl around her like a caress and it eased her loneliness.

“What the hell?” Her gaze darted up from the black pool of blood shimmering in the light of the moon and the impersonal glare of the streetlights. Gore streaked across the concrete toward the hazy red glow emanating from the back exit of the diner. It was propped open. Hmmm. In this side of town, you kept your doors locked and your ass to the wall if you had to be out after dark.

“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me.” Detective Sergeant Avery stepped out of the shadows, a grim expression on his too pale face. His white and gray hair lay messily on his head, like he’d been running his hand through it. He only did that when his back was against the wall.

Police tape fluttered in the early morning breeze, the unis keeping the few stragglers at bay. “Thanks for coming.”

Thinning salt and pepper hair and a weary expression tugged at her heart. It had been too long. He was the reason she’d gotten this job. Like a father, he’d been there for her when her world had fallen apart and had nudged her in the right direction to help her get her shit together.

She just wasn’t sure why exactly he’d felt the need to call her back.

Devi peered into the shadows, but things blacker than night would be staring back at this hour of the morning so she refocused her attention to the task at hand.

Lucky me.

Something skittered down her spine and she felt a niggle of fear and awareness.

“Who was it?” She knew most of the officers and detectives that worked the streets of Bixby, but three years was a long time.

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