But Micah is still making a fucking gun with his hands.
That leaves me with Killian and Regina.
Wonderful.
We move through the mansion in silence. Regina leads, which makes sense. She knows this place. Every room, every corridor, every hidden space where Kyle might have concealed something the Council investigators missed.
Regina pauses in what appears to be a sitting room. The furniture in here is shrouded as well. A dead fireplace squats against one wall. Above it, a rectangle of wallpaper that’s lighter where a painting used to hang, probably sitting in an evidence locker in Council storage.
“This was Kyle’s study,” she says quietly. “He used to meet with the inner circle here. Make plans.” She touches the edge of the mantle. “I wasn’t allowed.”
Killian moves closer to her. His hand hovers near her shoulder but doesn’t quite touch. “You feeling anything?”
“No.” She frowns slightly. “That’s the weird part. The echoes of energy that should be here, they’re gone. All of it. It’s like the place has been bleached.”
“Council protocol,” I say. “After a crime scene has been processed, they use a sweeping spell. Removes any lingering magical signatures.”
“Why?”
“To prevent ne’er-do-wells and unsuspecting humans from stumbling in and causing problems.” I survey the room with a critical eye. “Cuts down on hauntings, too.”
Regina nods slowly. She moves to a bookshelf built into the far wall, running her fingers along the spines.
“These were mine,” she says. “Grimoires I left behind. Kyle must have moved them.”
She pulls one out. Leather-bound, the spine is cracked from use.
Killian watches her silently. “Anything you want to take with you?”
Regina stares at the book for a long moment. Then she slides it back onto the shelf.
“No.” Her voice is flat. “Nothing worth keeping. They would have taken everything useful.”
She turns and heads for the door. Killian and I exchange a glance and his expression is unreadable, but I can guess what he’s thinking.
Watch her. Protect her. Don’t let this place hurt her any more than it already has.
For once, we’re in complete agreement.
The basement stairs are narrow and steep. It’s an old house, and seems to groan with every step.
Regina descends first. Her posture changes as we go deeper, shoulders drawing in, steps becoming more cautious. I don’t need to access the bond to tell she’s anxious.
This must be where it happened.
The basement is a single large room with stone walls and a concrete floor. A single, naked bulb dangling from the ceiling makes it look like something out of a horror movie. Nothing like the relative comfort upstairs. In the center, bolted to the floor, is a set of heavy chains.
Regina stops at the bottom of the stairs.
I watch her staring at the chains. At the dark stains on the concrete beneath them.
“That’s it,” she says. Her voice is barely above a whisper. “That’s where they kept it.”
The werewolf. The creature that scarred her and nearly killed the man she loves.
May have killed him yet, in all likelihood.
Killian moves to her side. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”
