Monty quickly caged the thread in magic to keep it active for as long as possible, then wound a tracking spell through his net of magic. I watched with crossed arms, admiring both the speed and the proficiency of his spelling. He might not have been as powerful as his parents had hoped, but he certainly wasn’t underpowered by any stretch of the imagination. He and Belle were going to have some pretty powerful kids.
Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Her mental tone was dry. We’ve only just started having sex.
That may be true, but we all know that marriage and babies lie in your future.
Indeed they do, she agreed evenly. Whether that will happen with Monty is a matter yet to be decided.
Not according to Monty.
He hasn’t spent any great time with me. Let’s wait and see how compatible we really are once we’ve lived together for a while.
That she was even mentioning such a possibility was a huge leap forward.
“Right,” Monty said. “I’ve got a directional pulse, but it’s faint. No guarantee it won’t fade before we locate her.”
“A small chance is better than none,” Tala said. “Let’s go.”
She quickly led the way out. Once we were all in her SUV, Monty activated his spell. His magic shimmered through the air and the cage around the tiny thread of magic began to pulse.
“It’s pulling us toward Campbell’s Creek.”
“Not toward the diggings area again, is it?” Tala asked, as she sped off.
“Could be. Why?”
She shrugged. “I was just wondering what it is about that area that attracts supernatural nasties.”
“It’s the remoteness,” I said. “And the fact there’s plenty of nice dark holes to hide in.”
“Then maybe we need to fill said dark holes,” Tala said. “Maybe it’ll ease some of their traffic.”
“Sadly, it doesn’t work that way,” Monty said. “Besides, isn’t a good portion of the diggings areas heritage listed?”
“Yes, but this is a reservation, and we have the final say.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not the diggings but the fact the wellspring was unprotected for so long that’s drawing them here,” I said. “Until the ripples of its energy stop washing across the shores of darkness, we’ll continue to be inundated.”
“Not what I needed to hear right now.” She paused. “Or any damn time, really.”
“It will eventually get better,” Monty said. “Left up ahead.”
We continued on, moving through Castle Rock and then on toward Campbell’s Creek. The road got progressively narrower and rougher the deeper we moved into the mountainous, scrubby area that surrounded Campbell’s Creek. The ripple of energy coming from the cage was fading fast, however. We drove through a crossroad and then up a steep incline. The trees crowded closer to the road and the gloom and the rain closed in. It was the perfect sort of day to be hunting a supernatural nasty, I thought wryly.
As we crested the incline, the pulsing caress of thread’s energy ceased, and the fragments of the spell that had given it life for this long drifted away.
Monty swore. “I’ve just lost the signal.”
“Is there anything in the area that might be worth searching?” I asked. “Buildings or even a mine site, perhaps?”
“There’s an old mining settlement at the bottom of this gully,” Tala said. “It has something of a rep too.”
“What sort of rep?” Monty asked. “Is it haunted?”
“No, cursed,” she replied. “According to legend, a Chinese Wu—which I believe is a type of shaman—was murdered on the site. She apparently laid a curse on the entire settlement with her dying breath.”
“What kind of curse?”
“That neither the town nor the men in it would ever prosper.”
“And did any of them?” I asked curiously.
Tala glanced at me, amusement evident. “The settlement was abandoned only a month or so after her death, but it’s hard to say whether it was through her curse or the lack of gold. I suspect the latter, as there was a large and successful Chinese settlement in Vaughn, which is not that much further on.”
“Given she cursed all the men, it’s unlikely they prospered in any way for the rest of their lives,” Monty said. “Only the very foolish mess with a Chinese Wu, trust me. They can be fierce.”
“I’ll remember that, if I ever come across one.” Tala’s voice was dry. She pulled off the road and stopped. “The old settlement is a ten-minute walk through those trees.”
I climbed out and zipped up my coat. The wind wasn’t as fierce up here—though it still held a definite bite—and it held an almost mournful note. It didn’t take much imagination to think it was the cry of a woman who’d been murdered long ago.
I shivered and followed Tala through the trees. The settlement turned out to be little more than a few straight rock lines and a couple of rotting timber posts. Mining settlements in the very early days of the gold rush were mostly poorly sanitized, hastily erected tent cities. The wooden structures that did exist were generally for the necessities—merchants, churches, and pubs.
I walked past a couple of building remnants on the outskirts of the settlement, into what had probably been the main street—though calling it that was something of a misnomer, given it was only slightly wider than the average footpath. I stopped and scanned the area. After a moment, a vague shimmer caught my attention.
“There’s a ghost here.”
Tala glanced at me sharply. “Where?”
“Over by that building on the left with the three remaining roof struts.”
“That’s where the Chinese woman was murdered.” She studied the area with narrowed eyes. Werewolves were often sensitive to the presence of spirits or ghosts, but I had the feeling she had no sense of this one. “Can you talk to it?”
“With Belle’s help, yes, but I don’t think it’s necessary.”
Tala gaze came to mine again. “Why not?”
“Because there’s no feel of evil in this area,” Monty said before I could. “And because evil spirits rarely use an area that is already occupied.”
Tala’s eyebrows rose. “Does that mean the answer to our evil problem is to employ some ghosts?”
I laughed. “Maybe.”
We continued on. The old woman followed, but she made no move against us, and there was no feeling of threat or anger. Just curiosity and perhaps a sense of loneliness.
“There’s nothing here,” Monty said, as we reached the far end of the settlement. “There’s not even a damn curse to lift.”
“So all those stories of bad things happening to trespassers are just that—stories?” Tala asked.
“Well, maybe not, because shamans of any kind are not something you want to piss off, be they alive or dead,” he said. “But there’s nothing to suggest our skeleton spirit has ever been here.”
“I should have known tracking this thing down would not be easy.” Frustration ran through Tala’s voice. “I guess it also means we have no choice but to wait for the next attack?”