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logical path. But he had seen it— not it, her. It just seemed more appropriate. But there was no way that creature was the natural result of any union, whether witch, vamp, were, or alien mermaid. It just wasn’t possible. He said so as he peeled the wrapper off a piece of jerky.
    He bit into it without enthusiasm. He wanted a steak. Bad. Unfortunately the hotel they were holed up in didn’t offer room service, and he wasn’t leaving just yet.
    Kendall replied, “Even if she was the child of a were and a witch, and that’s not likely, but even if she was…”
    Her voice trailed off, and Vax took up where she left off. “When I said unnatural, I meant unnatural. Maybe she was altered somehow.”
    â€œAltered? You mean, like, mutated?” Kane rubbed a hand over the healed scars on his leg. “This itches like a son of a bitch,” he added, glancing towards Vax.
    â€œGood. Means they are healing.” Vax walked around the edge of the bed and crouched down, studying the wounds closely. “Some sort of mutation. I don’t know, that’s possible. We need to find out more. Once I know you’re feeling better, I’m going to try and track her.”
    â€œTrack her,” Kane repeated slowly. “How can you track a corpse—actually, she’s less than a corpse. She’s ashes. What’s left to track?”
    With a faint smile, Vax replied, “There’s always something to track. In this case, her magick. I’m going to try to track her magick.”
    Â 
    T RY —yep, he tried to track her and failed miserably.
    Back at the bar less than a day later, Vax sensed nothing from the witch/shifter. Even though she was dead, he should have been able to pick up some sort of trail to track, either the thing’s scent or the taste of magick in the air.
    He spent nearly two weeks trying to uncover more about the woman. But it was as if she had appeared out of nowhere, and now that she was dead, “nowhere” was going to remain off the map.

C HAPTER 2
    CANTON, INDIANA
2007
    T HE honeysuckle was blooming.
    Canton Cemetery was an old-fashioned one, nestled in a small valley behind Canton Christian Church. It was the kind with actual tombstones, and surrounded by a white-painted picket fence. The honeysuckle grew profusely in the summer months, covering the pretty white fence. One year, some of the men in the church had decided to cut down the honeysuckle, but the people who had loved ones buried there had argued, and now the honeysuckle was left alone, thinned out only when necessary.
    The two sisters had always loved the scent of it. Jess had brought Myranda here for the past eight years, ever since they’d had to put their parents to rest.
    Now—Jess closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. Now she had to visit her baby sister here as well.
    Randi had been the baby, younger than Jess by nearly ten years.
    It just wasn’t right .
    Randi had been the golden girl, smart, sweet, funny. Full of determination and drive, she had been born something special, and she would have become something special.
    When most nineteen-year-olds were champing at the bit for some freedom, Randi had been content to stay at home and make the thirty-minute drive to the University of Indianapolis, instead of living on campus and partying. She’d been focused on her studies, dedicated to them. Randi would have graduated in one more year, nearly two years early.
    But not now—now she was gone. Her life had ended before it had even really gotten started. But it was so much worse, knowing how she had been killed. Raped and killed, the entire sordid thing captured on video. The police had collected dozens of copies of the snuff film, but Jess knew there was no way to ever track all of them down.
    Jess would have to live the remainder of her days knowing that any moment some sick pervert might be jerking off as he watched somebody