MAKING MAGICKAL ALLIANCES: A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Novel by Leigh Raventhorne (best color ereader .txt) 📗

but one of them is a paranormal of one kind or another, but they’re so low on the magickal scale they shouldn’t show up on her radar. So far, it’s all quiet.”

“No news is good news, right?” Tess said softly.

It was Rand who answered. “We can only hope, but it’s still early in the game. What are you going to do if any of them are in danger?” Trust Rand to get straight to the point.

Sam sighed. “I’m not sure. I’d like to pack Annie, Cammie, and Leo up and just bring them all down here, where it’s, well, not actually safe, but where we can at least protect them.”

All of our phones chimed at the same time. There was a brief message from Jeremy and then a video appeared. Rand watched over my shoulder instead of pulling out his own phone. Sam and Tess watched from their phones. Zara padded over across the counter and I held my phone out so that she could see the screen without compromising Rand’s view. Clyde, Dutch, and Gloria should be getting this, too. We watched as Harris got into a car outside a ratty looking apartment complex in an area of town I wasn’t familiar with—which wasn’t saying much, since I’d barely been past the main drag or Jeremy’s since my arrival. The day I’d cast protection spells on all those properties was little more than a blur to me, so I didn’t exactly count that as sightseeing. Whoever was recording this followed in another car, at a distance. Luckily, traffic was light and Harris must have been oblivious to his tail, since he was followed straight to a marina much smaller than the one at Jeremy’s place.

I glanced up as the others came in through the terrace entrance from the dining room. The guys had their phones out and Gloria was watching Dutch’s phone. Nobody said anything. Clyde fiddled with his phone and suddenly there was sound to go with the video. Rand held out his hand for mine and I handed it to him, knowing he could figure it out faster than I could. Seconds later, he handed it back to me and I heard the voice of the person recording.

“—Seven-oh-five p.m. Subject is sitting in his car at the marina. He’s on his phone . . . just a sec. I’ve got his car bugged and I should be able to patch this through.”  There was a pause, then we all heard Harris’s tinny voice, sounding as if it was coming through a tunnel.

“I’m here.” Another pause, probably as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the line. “That pirate crew says they need something stronger than the weak crap I took ‘em last time. Two of the brats won’t stop crying and the other one keeps getting out of the cage. The little monster hasn’t made it to the water yet, but he did some damage to a couple of the crew members who had to wrangle him back into the cage. They’re demanding a stronger sedative. Can’t your buyers get us more of that stuff we used when we grabbed them? That kept them out of it for hours.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, anger burning through me. Here was the proof that Margo and Harris were involved with the disappearance of the children. Rand laid a comforting hand on my arm as I continued listening.

“No, they’re still refusing to eat.” Pause. “So long as they don’t kick it until after the buyers take possession, what does it matter if it makes them sick? They’re stinking animals.” Whatever the response on the other end was, it must not have been what Harris wanted to hear. “Fine,” he spat. “Those pirates are going to demand more money for damages and it better not come out of my cut.”

Clyde growled. Literally. When I glanced up at him, his hand was fisted and he looked like he was ready to crush something. Or someone. “He’s going to kill them if he’s giving them any kind of sedative. Their systems are different from a human’s or even a shifter’s. Who knows what kind of damage has already been done?”

Movement drew me back to the small phone screen as Harris got out of the car, stuffing the phone into the pocket of his windbreaker. He was still wearing the ball cap he’d had on earlier. Part of the view from the camera disappeared as the person recording hunched down when Harris looked warily around the parking lot before heading to the docks.

“You want me to follow him, boss?” the voice asked. “There’s not many places to hide on the docks and not enough boats here to take refuge in.” Pause. “I’ll stay here and report back when he returns, then.”

The view abruptly changed and I realized it must have switched to a different camera. A camera really high up. It showed Harris boarding a boat less than half the size of mine. He untied the dock line, pushed off the dock, and started the engine. Minutes later, he was maneuvering the boat out of the marina and heading through the channel toward the ocean. The view plummeted straight down toward the water, then suddenly swung back up and leveled off. My stomach nearly hit the roof of my mouth. What the heck?

“Huh,” Clyde said. We all looked up at him. “I think Jeremy must have one of those action cameras attached to a bird shifter. Smart.”

Rand tilted his head, watching the camera feed. “You’re right. Look at the movement.” The motion of the view moved in a steady rhythm, like the flapping of wings. Listening, I could hear it, too, along with the calls of sea birds in the distance and the rumble of the boat’s motor below. The shifter recording stayed back just far enough to hopefully avoid the notice of the man