Page 90 of Enspelled

“No one is answering.”

I pause as a thought has me jerking my head toward him. “You don’t think that—”

“They’re alive,” Bodie interrupts, his tone implacable. “If only because Keane doesn’t strike me as the sort to go down without a fight. Though why Briar’s aunt would want him or Briar dead is still a mystery to me. I mean, if she faked her death, then fair enough. But why do all of that?”

“You didn’t meet Layla, so you don’t know what she was like. She had Mel serve refreshments during meetings, and that’s it. If Mel said hi, she didn’t even get a response. They went to school together, grew up together, and Layla wouldn’t give Mel a short-term loan so the tearoom would last through the winter.”

“But what does that have to do with faking her death and stealing a dead body? If she hated Layla that much, why not just kill her and be done with it?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it? We’ll see what we can learn at the meeting. After, I’ll cast a spell so we can find Briar. Something must have happened if she’s not answering the phone.”

“We?”

“Yes, we.”

He gives me one long look, and he nods before sitting back in his seat. “A coven meeting. Should be fun.”

“Bullhorn Ellie will be there,” I remind him, hoping to puncture the anticipation deepening his voice.

He darts a rapid glance at me, too fast to read. “I’d say something will happen, then.”

“And you think this, why?”

“You’re smart. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” He grins at me. “Eventually.”

My eyes narrow at his insult, but since we’ve wasted enough time parked as it is, I just shake my head and reach for the wheel, hoping that wherever Briar is, she’s okay.

27

KEANE

Low voices make me turn my head in the direction Briar wandered minutes before.

“You still talking to yourself?” I call out.

A dull thud is my response, followed moments later by a heavier one.

Almost like the sound of someone falling. My smile fades, and I head toward her, hoping she just tripped over a squirrel. “Briar! Are you okay? Did you—”

“Keane Destin,” a female voice comes from my left.

A familiar one. Mara.

As always, the dark-haired, brown-eyed witch is dressed in baggy pants and a hooded top, with the distinctive red burn on the right side of her face visible. “What are you doing here?” I ask as I continue toward Briar.

She still hasn’t responded, which means something must be wrong.

“I have a surprise for you,” Mara says.

I dart a rapid glance her way. “Well, it’s going to have to wait. I—”

“So, you’re not interested in getting justice for your pack?”

Her soft words make me halt. “You know I am, but Layla Markham wasn’t—”

“I found her. Or,” she smiles. “She found me.”

My eyes narrow at her vagueness. “And that’s supposed to mean…?”

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