Page 7 of Air Of Mystery
“Witch-fire?” he asked, clearly thrown off by my answer.
“Kenna has a connection to the element of fire,” I explained as thunder rumbled in the distance. “It’s her element to call, and although she rarely invokes a living flame, I am very glad she was able to today.”
He nodded. “So the outline on the basement wall…I assume that was a burn mark from where she blasted whatever attacked Tyler?”
“Although I haven’t had the chance to ask her about it yet, that was my impression as well.”
“The ashes that were falling from the ceiling?” he asked next. “Was that all that was left of the...”
“Let’s call it an entity,” I suggested. My phone vibrated in my purse, signaling a text. Automatically I pulled it free. “It’s from Kenna,” I told Charlie. “Tyler is stable, and they are going to admit him for observation.”
“That’s good,” he said. With a sigh he pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. “So, I have to ask...is this type of situation typical for your family?”
“Not sure what you mean bysituation,” I said. After tucking the phone away in my purse, I secured the strap over one shoulder. “Could you be more specific?”
“Do you and your sisters often have to fight magickal adversaries?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not my sisters.”
“Your sisters don’t,” he said immediately. “But you do?”
He was quick, I’d give him that. “As a paranormal investigator, I have come up against more than a few entities and astral beasties.”
“Astral beasties?”
“Things that go bump in the night,” I said as my stomach tied itself into an anxious knot.
“You mean like monsters?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“I would imagine—” I said over the thunder that rumbled again, “that some mundanes might consider them to be so.”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, spinning away from me.
“Afraid he’s not in my pantheon,” I said. “Try an older religion.Mucholder.”
Charlie spun back around to regard me. I stayed where I was, leaning casually against the bumper of his jeep. At least I wastryingto appear as if my pose was casual. Because my stomach was killing me and my shoulders were tight from nerves.
This conversation was going downhill fast.
“Are you cracking jokes right now?” he demanded.
“Not intentionally,” I said lightly. “Sarcasm is simply my default mode.”
“Well sarcasm aside, what’s the fire department and police going to think, Skye, when they are down in the basement investigating and they see the mark on the wall?”
“They won’t see it. I promise you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I glamoured over the mark on the wall,” I said. “Theywon’tbe able to physically see it.”
“What the hell is a glamour?”
I sighed. “It’s like a camouflage. The glamour—my spell—will hold until I can get permission to go back in there and cleanse the space.”
“I heard you tell the police that the homeowner lived out of state. You had his contact information in your phone. You passed it along to them.”
“Yes, of course,” I said. “That’s because my team and I had—up until recently—been investigating the location.”
