I frowned. “I didn’t think it was legal to bury people outside a public cemetery? Or does the rule differ in the reservation?”
“Only to some extent,” Aiden said. “Every pack has burial grounds within their compounds, but humans still need approval from the appropriate department to bury on private land. Even then, it’s usually only granted if there’re prior burials on the site.”
“In the Barnetts’ case, there’re five generations buried there,” Mac said. “Is that a big enough graveyard to attract something like this?”
I shrugged. “I can’t really say for sure, given I have no real idea what we’re dealing with.”
“Meaning it is worth checking,” Aiden said. “We’ll head back down and drive over.”
“Good, because you weren’t ever going to get me to walk over.”
Aiden chuckled and pressed a hand to my spine, gently ushering me back to the path. Though it was easier going down, it still took nearly half an hour to return to the house.
Aiden motioned me toward his truck and then walked inside to talk to Jaz. I opened the passenger door but didn’t immediately climb in, instead studying the surrounding night as awareness prickled across my skin. My watcher was once again out there.
I hesitated, one hand clenched against the need to raise some form of defensive or even tracking spell. If my watcher was Clayton, then nothing I did would matter. If it wasn’t, then he’d most likely be protected against any spell I could raise. Or, at least, any spell that didn’t involve the wild magic.
That suggests you’re not carrying Ashworth’s diversion charm on you, Belle said, mental tone annoyed.
No. Totally forgot about it.
Then I’ll make sure you shove it in your purse when you get home.
Footsteps approached. I half turned and watched Aiden stride toward me.
“What’s wrong?” he immediately said.
“Nothing.” I hesitated. “Can you smell anyone nearby?”
He raised an eyebrow but flared his nostrils, drawing in a deep breath. After a moment, he shook his head. “No—why?”
I shrugged. “It’s probably just imagination—”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned over these past few months, it’s that when you say it’s probably your imagination, it’s not. So give.”
I grimaced and climbed into the truck. “I keep getting the feeling that I’m being watched.”
“Well, if Clayton’s here, that’s not surprising. He’ll be tracking your movements so he’s got a clearer picture of his attack options. Classic hunter action.”
“Yeah, but Clayton’s no hunter. He generally prefers immediate confrontation over stealth.”
“Except when it comes to snatching innocence, apparently.” Aiden’s voice was flat and yet hinted at fury. For me. For what had been done to me.
“And that is what in the end saved me. He didn’t expect resistance.” Didn’t expect Belle to come roaring to the rescue.
Aiden reached across and gently gripped my thigh. Warmth bled into my skin but failed to ease the inner tremors.
“There’s a good chance we’ll find him before he decides to do anything,” he said. “Trust that. Trust us.”
“I do.” I just didn’t trust that Clayton would react in any normal manner.
Silence fell, and night closed in. After another twenty minutes, Aiden slowed and pulled into a long, tree-lined driveway. Stones crunched under the tires and, up ahead, a house lay wrapped in darkness. As we pulled up, the external lights came on and, seconds later, so did the internal ones.
“Wait here,” Aiden said, and climbed out.
He leapt up the steps and strode toward the front door. It opened, revealing a middle-aged man wearing a T-shirt and boxer shorts. Aiden spoke to him for several minutes, then came back. The owner went back inside and the lights went off.
“He’s not coming with us?” I said.