He nodded. “A second cousin.”
I frowned. “It is legal for second cousins to marry in Australia.”
“Yes, but it’s a practice that’s banned on most reservations, except under exceptional circumstances. As I said, the bloodlines are too close, especially when it comes to smaller packs such as the Marins, or even the O’Connors.”
“Which is a problem the witch families share.”
It was also why half-breed witches were supposed to be registered. It might be rare for such children to hold any true witch powers, but if they did, then it could add fresh blood into the older lines.
He nodded. “But I suspect that in this case, it wasn’t the only factor. There’s also a five-year age difference—Garrett’s only eighteen—and the fact she’s from an omega-class family.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I didn’t realize wolves were so rank conscious.”
“I think it was more a reflection of their dislike for her family than their actual ranking within the pack.” He raised an eyebrow. “But aren’t the royal witch houses just as picky?”
“Yes, and for many of the same reasons.” I wrinkled my nose. “Which is why the rather medieval practice of arranged marriages is still somewhat prevalent, despite it being outlawed.”
He blinked. “Seriously?”
“Totally.” I ignored the questions I could see in his eyes. “Is Karla’s refusal the reason you believed this was a retaliatory attack?”
“And the reason why the council won’t allow us to contact the RWA until we get the autopsy results back.” He finished his coffee, then crossed his arms on the table—an action that brought him slightly closer, and allowed his warm, somewhat smoky musk scent to tease every breath. “But if Aron’s soul was stolen, it couldn’t have been Larissa.”
“That’s not exactly true, Ranger.” Belle deposited a huge plate of steak and vegetables in front of me, and then sat down on the chair opposite. “A strong enough witch can certainly call and command such spirits, and if Larissa or her parents had enough cash, then the witch world is their oyster.”
He frowned. “I wouldn’t have thought calling on an evil spirit to destroy another was within the rules of the witch creed.”
I picked up my cutlery. “It’s not, but not all witches are vetted, and there are those who walk grayer paths and don’t really care about the rules or the creed.”
“Have either of you sensed that sort of magic being performed in the last few days?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean anything given we’d only sense it if the spell was being cast nearby.” I tucked into my meal. “And I would have told you if we had, Aiden.”
It was a rebuke, even if gently said, and he smiled somewhat ruefully. “I know, but the question nevertheless had to be asked.”
“Have you notified the RWA about the kill?” Belle asked.
“No. As I said, the council wants to wait until the autopsy results come back.”
“Because they don’t want any more damn witches on the reservation?” I couldn’t help the tartness in my tone as I echoed Ciara’s words.
“In part.” He grimaced. “But it’s more that they don’t want to be seen acting hastily.”
“I hardly think warning the RWA you might have a soul eater on the reservation is hasty,” Belle retorted. “It’s more a precautionary measure, given we’re not equipped to deal with something like this.”
“And no one’s expecting you to. In fact, while I’d appreciate your advice, I’d really prefer it if you keep your noses out of the physical hunt for whoever—whatever—is behind this murder.”
“Consider our noses out.” Belle picked up his empty plate and rose. “Just don’t blame us if things go to hell in a handbasket.”
Aiden’s eyebrows rose as she walked away. “She doesn’t look or sound happy.”
“It’s hard to be either when your spirit guides keep emphasizing just how dangerous this thing is.” I mixed some veggies into the mashed potatoes and then scooped up a forkful. “Especially when this thing appears able to hide from them.”
He scrubbed a hand across his chin. “Look, I’m not doubting you, but—”
“But you’re nevertheless finding it hard to believe in spirits, let alone soul eaters.” I shrugged. “I get it. But I still think it’s a fool’s move to wait. You should at least contact the RWA, explain the situation, and ask for their advice.”
“If Ciara hasn’t got an answer in twenty-four hours, I will.” He paused. “Can I ask why you were out in the gardens at that time of night?”