Page 21 of Twilight Longings

“Lucy!”

Saintcrow looked up as the girl’s mother ran down the porch steps.

“Didn’t I tell you not to talk to strangers?” the woman said, her voice tinged with panic.

“He’s not a stranger, Mama,” Lucy said. “He’s Mr. Saintcrow.”

The woman stared at him, her brow deeply furrowed. “Should I know you?”

“No.” Trapping her gaze with his, he wiped his memory from her mind, and from the child’s as well. And then he turned and walked down the street until he was out of sight.

A few moments later, he materialized inside the saloon in Morgan Creek.

“Did you learn anything?” Kincaid asked.

“Nothing, other than the fact that he’s out to get both of us.”

“No surprise there. I guess we can assume he’ll be staying in Wyoming for a while.”

“I sure as hell hope so,” Saintcrow replied. If Luca left the state, it was unlikely that they would ever find him again.Dammit!

Kincaid frowned. “I know you’ve warded the town against intruders. Does that include the spirits of dead necromancers?”

“I don’t know,” Saintcrow said. “We might try luring him here as a last resort.”

Saintcrow lingered in the saloon after Kincaid left to see Rosa. Sitting on a barstool, a glass of expensive red wine in his hand, he thought about Kadie. If a necromancer could make a spell to totally incapacitate her, why couldn’t another witch make a spell to unravel it? Of course, Izabela was the only witch he knew. She had made a thick gold cuff embossed with what looked like Celtic runes that had barred Luca from detecting Kincaid’s presence no matter where he was.

Saintcrow frowned as something about Luca tickled his memory. Something he had seen in the necromancer’s house the last time they had gone there. Something he’d ignored. Atfirst glance, he had thought the long, black robe with a yellow half-moon embroidered on the front was just a bathrobe. He had seen it on the foot of a bed as they made their way to the cellar. At the time, he had assumed it belonged to someone in the house, but what if it was a cloak? Luca’s cloak. It wasn’t impossible. He had caught a faint trace of the necromancer’s scent but had paid scant attention to it as they passed by.

Grabbing his cell phone, he tapped Kincaid’s number. Not bothering with ‘hello’, he said, “Get back here right away,” and ended the call.

Moments later, Kincaid appeared in the saloon. “Okay, what’s up?”

“Do you remember seeing a black velvet robe in Luca’s place the day we found the dagger?”

Kincaid frowned and then nodded. “It was on a bed. Why?”

“I think it was a cloak and that it belonged to Luca. I thought I caught a whiff of his scent, but I figured it was left over from when he lived there.”

Kincaid’s eyes lit up with understanding. “If it’s his, Izabela might be able to conjure his whereabouts!”

“Right the first time. We’ll go back to Luca’s tomorrow and take a look at the robe. Hell, why wait until tomorrow? Let’s go now.”

“Now?” Kincaid exclaimed. “It’s almost 1 a.m.”

“You got something better to do?” Saintcrow asked dryly.

“In fact, I do,” Kincaid said. Rosa was in bed, waiting for him. Then, seeing the look in Saintcrow’s eyes, he muttered, “I guess it can wait.” Rosa would never be able to return to Morgan Creek if they didn’t find a way to get rid of this damn curse. And while they could always live somewhere else, Morgan Creek was home.

“Here’s the plan,” Saintcrow said. “We’ve already been invited into the house, so we’ll transport ourselves inside and get a good look at the robe.”

“And if it belonged to Luca?”

“We’ll take it with us.”

Minutes later, they were inside the dark house. On silent feet, they made their way down the narrow hall to the bedroom where Saintcrow had seen the robe. It was lying across the foot of a young girl’s bed. And it was, indeed, a cloak.

Stepping into the room, Saintcrow picked it up and took a deep breath before handing it to Kincaid. “What do you think?”

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