Prologue #3
If you’re not a witch, it wouldn’t make sense when I tell you that magic…
it comes in different colors. Not every witch can see the shades.
I can because of my innate power as a cursebreaker.
Similar to aura-reading, I can see certain colors clinging to people and objects and know that they’ve been touched by magic, whether it’s dark or light.
Curses have a unique color. More of a neon green than anything, when someone is a victim of curse magic, they’ll bring that shade with them everywhere they go. Out in the sunlight, it’s harder to tell, but now that I’m pushing past my fear… oh, yeah. He’s had a run-in with a witch before.
You’d never know it from the polite way he addresses me as he nods a greeting my way. “I’m Chief Deputy Riordan Lobo of the Moonburrow Sheriff Department. Thank you for coming so quickly.”
Lobo, Pen. If you’d been thinking clearly instead of rushing to get to Maryland, you would’ve realized that the chief deputy’s last name is Lobo and been prepared that he was a wolf.
I swallow the nervous lump in my throat. “Yes, well, when I heard that there was a supe who needed my help, of course I had to come.”
“We appreciate it. The vic… Ash? He’s my brother’s mate’s cousin. I’d like to fix him up if we can before we have to tell her that he died on my watch. Honey doesn’t deserve that, and Max will have my head if I upset his mate.”
I get it. Witches… we don’t have fated mates.
We can be one, of course, if one of the supernaturals that have them—such as shifters or vampires—recognize that we’re meant to be theirs.
No wonder the chief deputy went right to the national coven for help.
This isn’t just a murder in Moonburrow he’s trying to solve. This is family business.
I don’t have a family of my own. Not anymore.
Mom passed a couple of years ago, and I never knew my dad.
He found out Mom was a witch and took off, and since I was a witch—dud or not—I stayed with her because, well, that’s how it works in a coven.
But if I did have someone to call my own?
There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for them.
I think about what Chief Deputy Lobo just said. “Is he dead then? The victim? Or is he cursed?”
The chief deputy mulls that one over for a second. “Ash is something all right. And, from what I was told, you’re supposed to be the only one who can tell us which one he is.”
He’s not wrong.
I’m uniquely qualified for this specific situation.
As a seer who doesn’t see the future but departed souls instead, if he’s dead and shows himself to me, I’ll know.
And if he’s cursed? The color of his aura will give him away.
Once I figure out what kind of curse he got hit with, I can get down to breaking it, and then I’ll be back on a plane to Salem—until Serena sends me off again somewhere else.
“I’ll do my best,” I tell Chief Deputy Lobo. “Now, where can I find him?”
A muscle jerks in the wolf shifter’s jaw.
“Do me a favor and stay here. I’m going to go grab one of the cruisers.
This way, I can lead you to the coven house and you can let the coven know you’ve arrived safely.
” His gold-colored wolf’s gaze darts to the left, peering into the backseat of my rental car.
“You’ve been traveling all day. Let’s bring your luggage into your room, then I’ll drive you over to the antique shop where we’ll find Morgan’s body and his ghost.”
I glance behind me at the silver car before turning to face Chief Deputy Lobo again. “Oh. Um. If you tell me where it is, I’m sure I can find it myself.”
His eyes flash again, the gold color of his irises burning bright. “I insist. You’ve come at my request, Ms. Willows—”
“Penelope.” It’s a squeak. I have no idea why the name I’ve had for the last thirty years comes out in a squeak like that, but it does, and my cheeks heat up as I try again. “Penelope, if you would.”
“You are my responsibility, Ms. Willows,” he says, and though he doesn’t use my given name instead of my surname, I let that pass when the green wisps around him darken.
Whatever curse he’s dealing with, it’s got him in a chokehold at the moment.
To push something so silly as giving him permission to be familiar with me…
that would be cruel when the wolf is already battling his own curse.
“In Moonburrow, I will do my best to keep you safe. You have my word.”
My heart jolts at the chief deputy’s solemn vow. Safe? Why wouldn’t I be safe?
I don’t ask him. From the set of his jaw to the way he keeps flexing his right hand, drawing my attention to the claws tipping his fingers… that’s probably a question I don’t want to know the answer to.
After all, the idyllic town of Moonburrow believes they had a murder. Whatever happened to Ashton Morgan… it had to be something bad. The opossum shifter needs my help, and I’m going to give it to him.
And when I do?
I’m going to take a better look at the curse on Riordan Lobo, and I’m going to save him from it if I can.
Because if I can’t? Like I said, no one else will.