Chapter 16

16

We didn’t make it far from the freeway exit before Duncan stopped the van on a bridge that crossed over a shallow river, a sign for a trailhead on the far side. This late in the day, there weren’t any cars parked there, but we could make out lights in the town on the other side of the freeway, and I could hear traffic noise.

“We might want to go farther up the mountain for a more peaceful hunt,” I said.

“Oh, I’ve no doubt, but I sensed something, and this is such a likely spot.”

“A likely spot for what?”

Duncan grinned as he pointed at a sidewalk to one side of the road that crossed the bridge, then turned off the ignition and slipped into the back of the van. A couple of clunks and a click sounded before he hopped out the side door with one of his huge magnets on a rope. He also carried a pole with a net at the top. It looked like a modified pool strainer. And was that his magic detector, as well?

Whistling cheerfully, Duncan leaned the tools against the railing and pointed the magic detector at the river. A soft beeping reached my ears.

“Hah,” he said in triumph, then trotted off the bridge and down to the bank. He thrust his net into the water and started fishing around for whatever he’d detected.

Judging this might take a while, I climbed out of the van. A car heading down from the mountain appeared, the passengers looking curiously at Duncan as they drove across the bridge. He, I decided with certainty, was weird too.

“Is this how you pay for gas?” I asked.

“Most certainly. Food, gas, and van maintenance.”

“Do you pay taxes on what you earn from what you find?”

“I’m not a citizen.”

“Even in the UK?”

“I grew up somewhat off-the-grid.”

I side-eyed him at that. “So, no taxes?”

“I don’t even exist, as far as the government is concerned.”

“Mysterious.”

“Oh, I am. Toss the magnet in if you like,” Duncan offered as he continued to fish about in the area his detector had drawn him to. “Magical stuff isn’t usually magnetic, but sometimes it is.”

The moon called to my blood, and testing my ability to change and hunt was more on my mind than fishing in a river for rusty forks or whatever treasure he sought. But, since he’d driven, I felt obligated to be patient. To humor him, I hefted the cylindrical magnet and tossed it off the bridge to land near where he was probing. It splashed water up on Duncan on the bank.

“Thank you,” he said dryly.

“You’re welcome. I can’t imagine you get to shower often when living in a van.”

“Are you judging me for my lifestyle, my lady?”

“Just the part where you avoid paying taxes. ”

“But the other parts are acceptable?” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

“They’re okay.”

“Your praise and approval warm my cockles.”

“What’s a cockle?” I’d heard the phrase but not in a long time. “Something they have in the UK?”

“For sure.” Duncan gestured at the rope.

As I’d seen him do, I used it to drag the magnet along the bottom of the stream. Rocks and uneven ground made it difficult to pull, and I imagined the hobby being much easier along a canal. Surprisingly, when I pulled the magnet out of the water, a few items stuck to it. I hadn’t expected anything magnetic in a mountain stream, though I supposed people walked over the bridge, stopped to take pictures of the scenic waterway, and accidentally dropped things in.

“Will these car keys cover a lot of gas money?” I plucked a set off, the metal ring stuck so strongly to the powerful magnet that it was a challenge.

“Probably only if we find the car they go with.”

“What is this?” I murmured, sensing something.

As I reached for a flat oval stuck to the magnet, the magic detector resting next to me started beeping. Startled, I almost dropped everything.

“Ah, is that it?” With the pole in hand, Duncan trotted back up to the bridge.

Covered in grime, the oval had a tiny ring on one end. It was a hook to attach it to a necklace, I realized. The chain was long gone, but it was a pendant or maybe a locket. I scraped at the slimy coating, trying to figure out if it could be opened.

A flash of intuition came over me, startling me anew. It was almost a vision , something I’d never experienced before. In it, I saw the river lit by sun and lined by trees with leaves that were still green. A gray-haired lady in a dress and shawl stood on the bridge. On the railing in front of her, a fat hardback book lay open. As she read from it, she gripped the locket where it hung around her neck. From a pocket, she withdrew a mixture of powders and sprinkled them in the water. Blue light shone through her fingers and highlighted her weathered face, and she leaned back, as if basking in the glow. Some of the age lines and weariness—or maybe that was pain—on her face lessened as the light faded, and she lowered her hand.

“Oh, a longevity talisman.” Duncan pointed to the find. “I’ve seen them before. Talented witches who’ve studied alchemy and metallurgy can make them.”

The vision, if that was what it had been, faded, and I held the gewgaw out at arm’s length. Had I seen an actual event from the past? One that gave me a glimpse into what the magical item did? If so, that was the first time anything like that had happened to me. Of course, it was the first time I’d held a supposed longevity talisman. I’d never heard of them.

“I don’t think there’s any proof that they really make the owner live longer.” Duncan was studying it instead of me, probably unaware of my vision. “But they’re reputed to help with the pain of arthritis and gout and other conditions, at least for a time. They might even speed up healing. Such a find could be worth money to the right person. To many people.” He touched his ribs where my cousins had gouged him and grimaced.

“I wonder how it was lost.”

Had a car come barreling through and hit the woman—the witch?—as she’d been calling upon the talisman’s power?

“People drop things in the water all the time.” Duncan shrugged. “I wouldn’t have a career otherwise.”

“You consider what you do a career, huh?”

“Indeed! One full of adventure, travel, and intrigue. And I hardly ever have to carry toilets around.” He winked to soften any dig he felt he’d made about my job .

Since I’d been digging at his, I couldn’t feel insulted. “I guess your work has romantic aspects.”

“Quite. I’ve had pirates attempt to rob me on three separate occasions.”

That wasn’t as romantic as I’d imagined, and I raised skeptical eyebrows. “Are you sure that’s better than doing apartment repairs?”

“Oh yes. I fought them off twice. It was only a band of well-armed and organized Gulf of Guinea pirates that were too much for even a werewolf to handle. I had to dive overboard, swim to shore with a bullet in my shoulder, and wait until the authorities were available to help me find the remains of the boat I’d rented. Fortunately, the insurance somewhat covered the losses. Pirates are more common than you’d think.”

“Your story not only makes me certain that my job is better than yours, but it has me inclined to snuggle up to the next toilet I install.” I handed him the locket, trusting he knew how to properly clean it and find a buyer who knew its worth. If there was a magical-items pawn shop in the Seattle area, I had no idea where.

“That makes for an interesting mental picture.” Duncan accepted the locket with a nod. “I’ll send you half of whatever I get when I sell this.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It’s as necessary as the gas money.” He gave me a frank look.

I wasn’t sure the two things were comparable but said, “Okay,” instead of objecting further.

After he returned his gear to his van, he held open the passenger door for me with a deep bow. “We can continue our date now.”

“You’re weirder than I am, I think.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” Duncan didn’t exactly skip back to the driver’s side, but his body language promised he was enjoying the night .

Well, he was a better date than my ex-husband had been. No doubt about that.

As he drove farther from the highway, I mulled over the significance of the vision. I’d heard of people who experienced such things—the internet was rife with stories of such paranormal experiences. Supposedly, that was how witches, druids, and the like sometimes first learned of their potential to use magic. But werewolves didn’t have visions . At least I didn’t think so. What if this was some ability that I’d been inadvertently suppressing, along with all my lupine senses, over the years with my potions?

Maybe, if I returned to Monroe for the pack hunt, I could ask my mother if anyone in the family had such experiences. Not that it really mattered. How often did I come in contact with magical artifacts?

I’d no sooner had the thought than the case from my bedroom came to mind. Lately, magical artifacts abounded around me.