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He didn’t mind riding in the passenger seat. He was a member of the Cabal. The most lethal predators in the world. He didn’t need to oppress others to prove his authority. And if driving gave Peri the illusion of control, then it would make their time together run smoother.
Or maybe he was deluding himself that he was in command, he wryly acknowledged.
Slowing, Peri waited for Valen to point toward the west before she pulled onto the narrow dirt road and pressed the gas pedal.
“Why did you come here?” he demanded.
There was a short silence. Was she deciding how much to reveal?
“I recognized Tia when I caught a glimpse of her in the bar,” she finally confessed, her voice terse.
“Tia.” Valen had heard of the mage, of course. The Cabal kept a close eye on her. Not just because she was a powerful mage and a collector of rare magical artifacts, but because she made no secret of her hatred for vampires. “That explains the over-the-top castle and demon guards.”
Peri released a sharp laugh. “She’s a little flamboyant.”
“Is she a friend of yours?”
“She’s a psychopathic overachiever who intends to use the miasma to rule the world.”
Valen stiffened. He’d hoped that Peri had traveled to this location because she recognized the intruder in the bar. And thatperson could give them information about the evil spreading through the area. What they didn’t need was the dangerous magic to be in the control of a powerful woman with a grudge against the Cabal.
“She captured the miasma?”
“No, but she’s a dream teller and she had a vision the magic would put her on some mystical throne.”
Valen narrowed his eyes. There was obviously no love lost between the two women, but now wasn’t the time to pry into their relationship. They needed to concentrate on keeping the magic out of Tia’s greedy hands.
“What else did she see?”
“A lot of nonsense.” Peri snorted. “But she did see enough to know that the power she’s been chasing passed through the Jackalope Station. That’s why she was there.”
Valen didn’t have much faith in dream tellers. The visions they offered were too vague and open to interpretation. He preferred cold logic to mystical imaginings. Still, she might have some insight into what the magic was seeking.
“I don’t suppose she saw where it’s going next?”
Peri shook her head. “Not that she shared with me.” She sent him a warning glance. “We have to destroy it before she can do something to make this shit show even worse than it is.”
“First we have to locate it,” he reminded her.
She returned her attention to the road. “I’ve had a few thoughts about that.”
“Tell me.”
“Since we have no idea where the miasma is or where it’s going, maybe we should go back to where it came from.”
She couldn’t mean the beginning of the miasma. They had no idea where it originated. Or how long ago.
“The ranch?”
She nodded, the moonlight slanting through the windshield shimmering against the dark, glossy curls that had escaped from her braid to spill down her back.
“My mother must have left behind some indication where she found the statue.”
Valen considered the possibility. She was right. The statue had to have come from somewhere. It wasn’t created by Brenda Sanguis or her coven. Which meant that she had to have talked to someone who told her where to find the statue and then traveled to buy it. Or more likely barter for it.
Somebody knew something.
“Did she have a computer?” he asked.
