ATwistedMagick by Shara Lanel Page B

talking about inanimate objects as if they were somehow alive. And yet he believed in her belief. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was his libido hoping to get close to her again. But he was very good at reading faces and catching a person’s tell, the thing that would prove they were lying. Shylah did not have a tell.
    Last, she pulled out a blackened cast iron cauldron, about five inches in diameter. “For incense.”
    Gabe reached for the cauldron.
    “Don’t touch, like I was saying about lingering vibrations.”
    “I wanted to sniff it, that’s all.” He was wondering if he could smell previously burned incense. Shylah looked as if she was going to ask why, but then, without another word, she lifted it to his nose but not close enough to touch. He only smelled iron and faintly rancid oil. He nodded, ignoring her smirk. “Did you find out anything more about your relative?”
    “Just rumors. Sylvester’s family had owned the manor house for centuries, but the last generation had let it fall into disrepair. Someone did buy it when it was auctioned off after his death, but then they boarded it up and left it there to crumble to the ground. The villagers said he had dabbled in the occult and now his ghost floated through the rooms, trapped in between the veils.” She smiled again. “They certainly tell good yarns. One lady was such a good storyteller that I shivered as if a ghost had walked by. She’s the one who told me that Sylvester had a gimp leg, as had every eldest male in his family since the 1100s. I don’t know how she came to that date, but it sounded good. The local historical society had a picture of Sylvester and he did indeed have a gimp leg.”
    “Spooky.”
    “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”
    “No. I just wish we were sitting around a campfire with marshmallows.” His mom had sent him to a summer camp in the mountains once, the only time he’d ever had s’mores and the only time he’d done a dawn polar bear swim. He’d frozen his ass off and never had the desire to do it since.
    She stuck out her tongue at him, and he immediately flashed back to tasting that tongue and so many other things on her body.
    “And the other creepy thing the lady told me…the eldest son in his entire line not only had a gimp leg, but they died as soon as their wives gave birth, which is apparently why Sylvester had refused to get married.”
    “Well, it sounds as though you have an interesting family, at least Sylvester’s part of it anyway. Do you have brothers, sisters and parents here in the states?”
    “My brother’s in Utah, a converted Mormon, therefore he doesn’t speak to me anymore. I’m a pagan sinner, you see. The sad part is I’ve got two nieces who I haven’t seen since they were babies. But you can’t change someone’s prejudices.”
    Gabe thought about his father and realized she was right. He picked up the knife and looked at it more closely. “This looks very old.” The blade was dull and clearly hammered flat. The handle was the same piece of metal, but thicker for an easy grip.
    “It is. I had it valued while I was in England, and they said it dated back to the Roman Conquest, the end of the Iron Age. Iron is used magically for protection, like an iron gate around a cemetery, meant to keep the ghosts inside its boundaries.”
    “Interesting.” He didn’t ask what it was valued at, since Shylah didn’t seem excited about what she’d been told. He examined the chalice and the candle holder, wondering how many hands had held them. Shylah’s enthusiasm was rubbing off on him. “So did you have a set of tools that you used before your trip to England?”
    “The coven I belonged to had a set, but my tools at the time were very mismatched, picked up from online metaphysical shops. I believe they’re in a trunk in the attic. You’re welcome to go up there and brave the bats, if you’d like.”
    “What do you think of the chalice found at the crime