“That’s rather racist.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” he scoffed. “I was neither Chinese, nor British. I knew nothing of Chinese traditions, and I spoke with a British accent. I didn’t belong with either group, so I was always on the fringes. When—” His voice caught. “When I met Hazel, everything changed.”

  “Were you human then?”

  “Yes,” Jin replied. “I was still human then. It was another year before I became what I am now.” He sighed, the sorrow in his breath catching Holly by surprise. Even though she sat on the other side of the door, she could feel it within him. “Discovering magic… It was a wondrous thing back then, but it was also something people were still hung and burned for. Hazel was a lady. She was already bending what society deemed proper by becoming a business owner, but she was also a powerful witch. Others coveted what she had.”

  The Trine had told her Hazel had been caught in the crossfire of a battle for territory, but Jin made it sound like she’d been targeted for her magic. Holly thought of the ghost who tried to cut out her magic the night before, and shivered.

  “Is that what happened to her?” she whispered, knowing he’d hear her no matter how softly she spoke.

  “Hazel made me feel like I belonged,” he replied, avoiding the question. “The colour of my skin, the shape of my eyes, the accent in my voice…none of those things mattered to her. I was just… I was just Jin, and she was just Hazel. I—” Jin stopped himself short, his silence deafening.

  Holly straightened up and turned to look at the door. She wanted to open it, to see his eyes, to watch his expression, to verify what she was only now beginning to realise… Jin had been in love with Hazel.

  “What happened to her, Jin? Was it the ghosts in the diggings?”

  “The what?”

  “The ghosts,” she repeated. “The thing that attacked me.”

  He was silent for so long, Holly wasn’t sure if he was still there, but he was. “That’s what they told you?”

  “I heard the voices,” she said. “I saw the black figure. What else could it be?”

  “Stay out of the diggings,” he hissed. “Do not go back there, do you understand?”

  Holly stood and wrenched open the door and found Jin standing a hairsbreadth away from her. The only thing stopping him from entering the house was her invitation. If she gave it to him, what would he do?

  “Why?” she demanded. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Be careful of the Trine,” he warned. “They weren’t trustworthy then, and they haven’t proven themselves otherwise now. Everyone wants something in this town, Holly, and not all of it is good.”

  She reached out for him, her hand crossing through the barrier, but he jerked out of reach.

  “What do they want from me?” she whispered.

  Jin backed away, refusing to meet her gaze. “Do not interfere,” he told her. “Do not get caught between me and the Trine.”

  “Jin—”

  “I say this to keep you safe.” His gaze finally met hers, and she was stunned to see there were tears in his eyes.

  “Jin,” she began, but his name echoed out into the empty space where he’d been standing.

  He was gone, and with him, the answer to the one question she wanted to ask above all others…

  Who should she trust?

  Sarah parked her silver hatchback on the street outside her mother’s house and killed the engine. Climbing out, she closed the door and stepped onto the footpath, determined not to lose her cool.

  To say she and her mother had a complicated relationship would be a severe understatement. Growing up, Sarah had been closest with her father, her mum driving her away with her single-minded devotion to the coven and her witchcraft. There were so many expectations pressed down upon her, simply because she was the daughter of a Trine member, that she’d almost forgotten to have a childhood.

  Sarah thanked heaven every day for making Marty Dunne her dad. He taught her how to prospect, how to camp, how to have fun, and how to be a kid. She wouldn’t know who she’d be today if it wasn’t for their relationship. Actually, she’d probably be the spitting image of her arrogant, selfish mother, and it was a terrifying thought.

  But now he was gone, and the warm, happy place he’d occupied in her heart had turned dark. It was festering with her growing hatred for Jin—the vampire who’d killed her beloved father because he was hungry.

  Now the vampire was threatening the town, threatening her, and threatening the one person who’d been there for her, no questions asked, Holly.

  Sarah lingered outside her mother’s house, struggling with taking the next step. She’d vowed to never come back here, especially after their argument during the wake. Her mother was more concerned with money and power to even consider her daughter’s wellbeing, so why would she help her now?

  Because Jin’s presence threatens the Trine, she thought. I may want revenge, but they want to secure their power. All I’d be doing is rolling back the clock a month. No harm, no foul. Everyone’s a winner.

  Before she lost her nerve, Sarah marched up the garden path and rang the doorbell.

  Dull footsteps preceded the arrival of Samantha Dunne, then, as the door opened and she saw her daughter waiting outside, a satisfied smirk spread across her face. “Well, well, well, isn’t this a surprise.”

  Sarah scowled. “Can I come in or not?”

  Her mother stepped aside, letting her walk into the house. “To what do I owe the honour?”

  “I want to kill Jin.”

  “No,” Samantha said, following her into the sitting room. “Absolutely not.” From her lack of surprise, Samantha had obviously been expecting Sarah to crack.

  She whirled around. “Why?”

  “I want him dead too, but he’s had too much time in Dunloe already. There’s no telling what he’s done.” Samantha sat on the couch, gesturing for her to follow suit.

  Sarah sank into the armchair by the door. “Who cares.”

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen Hank Judge walk around town like a bushwhacked zombie?” Samantha rolled her eyes. “Jin has him wrapped around his little finger.”

  “So what? My revenge will free all those people from his mind-control. What’s the problem?”

  “You don’t understand what that vampire thinks he lost,” her mother told her. “That creature believes he was in love with Hazel Burke.”

  Sarah hesitated. “And Holly looks just like her…”

  “Yes,” she said. “Curious, isn’t it? History tells us over and over about men who do terrible things in the name of revenge, and almost all of them stem from the death of a woman. Worse things have been done over less.”

  “And you think Jin has planned something worse?”

  “That is uncertain, but we have to be prepared for anything…which is why you can’t kill him. Not yet.”

  “Then what are we supposed to do?” she demanded. “The longer we wait, the more powerful he gets!”

  Samantha smirked.

  “What?”

  “You said ‘we.’”

  “It’s a figure of speech. It doesn’t mean anything.” Sarah scowled, her magic simmering. “I can’t just sit by and do nothing.”

  “You won’t be doing nothing,” Samantha told her. “What we need to do is keep an eye on Holly Burke.”

  “Why? Patrick’s already watching Jin. If he tries to go near her, he’ll stop him.”

  “It’s not just about the vampire, dear. Burke witches are special,” her mother explained. “You know that.”

  Sarah screwed up her face. “Because of their divination skills?”

  “Yes,” she smoothed her hands over her daughter’s hair, “because of her divination skills.”

  If the Burkes were so versed in all things futuristic, then why couldn’t they divine their own demise? Hazel’s death in the territorial battles, Hannah’s heart attack… If they saw it coming, then why didn’t they do anything to stop it?

  Sarah shook her head. Even she knew it wasn’t that simple. One future was only one possibility out of billions. An insignificant choice by an unimportant player could change everything. Divination was a useless and annoying ability. Why anyone would want deal with that was beyond her.

  “But Holly doesn’t have enough magic to see anything,” Sarah said.

  Samantha smiled like she knew a juicy secret.

  “I’m going to help Holly with her magic,” she went on. “I want you to stay out of it.”

  “Darling, what makes you think you have a choice? I am the highest point of the Trine. What I say, goes. That girl may just save us all from Jin Xu and his annoying revenge plot…and then some.”

  She scoffed and wrenched away. “Your arrogance astounds me.”

  Samantha’s lips thinned. “You’re so much like your father, it…” She let the inevitable insult fade into thin air, but Sarah already knew what she was going to say.

  “Makes you sick?” She jerked to her feet. “That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”

  Her mother shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”

  “I can’t believe you!” she cried. “I came to you for help, despite my better judgment. You loved my father once, so I thought you might still hold a drop of those feelings, but no… All you care about is your stupid pride. Jin took your power without even trying, and that’s the thing that hurts you, Mum. You never cared about Dad, and you never cared about me beyond my magic. Well, I’m done for good this time.”

  Samantha rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It’s time you outgrow these childish outbursts and realise there is no escaping the Trine.”

  “Don’t look so smug!”

  “Why not?” Her smile widened. “We are inevitable, Sarah. One day, you’ll be me.”

  “I’ll never be you.”

  “Oh, you’re already more me than you realise.” She waved slyly as Sarah backed into the hall.

  There was nothing left to say that didn’t involve trading more insults, so she left, striding from the house, and regretting ever showing up in the first place.

  How could that woman be her mother? Her magic came from that…that shrew.

  Getting into her car, Sarah bashed her fists against the steering wheel. She didn’t care what her mum said. She was going to kill Jin with or without her help…and she was going to make it hurt. He didn’t deserve anything less.

  Then she’d deal with her mother.

  CHAPTER 15

  Darkness and shadow clung to the depths of the Dunloe police station.

  The front desk was lit, manned by a lone constable, but within the bowels of the brick building, sitting amongst the messy desks and filing cabinets, sat a lone figure.

  ‘Detective’ Jin Xu had been poring over an old case file for the past twenty-four hours, each theory he’d considered resulting in the same conclusion each time.

  Running a thumb over the sticker on the tab of the manila folder, he sighed. History had an odd way of repeating itself around here.

  He leaned back in his chair and scowled at the hardback novel on his desk—Silence of the Lambs.

  “Hey, boss, you still working?”

  Jin looked up at Hank Judge, his compelled lap dog. “Did you get those files from the hospital like I asked?”

  “Yeah, I called ‘em,” the constable replied. “There weren’t any files.”

  “And the ambulance service?”

  “They were never called.” Hank hesitated. “Hannah didn’t die of a heart attack, did she?”

  “No, no she didn’t.” He absently flipped open the cover of the novel.

  “So…are we going to reopen the case? It’s a potential homicide now, right?”

  Jin sighed and crooked his finger at the constable. “Come here, Hank.”

  He leaned close enough for the vampire to catch his gaze. “Forget all the work you’ve done on the Burke case. I never asked you to follow up on anything, okay? Hannah died of a heart attack.”

  “Okay.” Hank blinked as the compulsion took hold. “Hey,” he exclaimed, as if he just seen Jin sitting at his desk. “You working late, boss?”

  “Just tying up a few loose ends,” Jin replied. “I’ll be off soon. You better get home to your wife, or she’ll think you’re out doing the dirty.” He chuckled as the constable’s face turned white as a sheet.

  “She would never…” But he turned and fled, adding merit to the assumption that Hank Judge like to play around.

  Jin sighed and leaned back in his chair. The language of the time was certainly more fun, but people hadn’t changed much. Humanity still suffered the same failings it had in 1852, albeit with a little less gold.

  He tossed the flimsy file back into his desk drawer. So Hannah Burke hadn’t died of a heart attack. That was a shocker. But now he had verification there was no record of an ambulance being called, no hospital admission forms, no autopsy, and no medical paper trail at all. Just a coroner’s report that smelled a lot like vampire.

  The mobile telephone on his desk rang, the glass screen lighting up. It was a piece of modern technology that still made him uneasy—it was so small and the images it displayed so lifelike, it felt like magic to him. But it was merely science that hadn’t been discovered in his past life. 1852 seemed rather primitive compared to what was possible now.

  The phone displayed a familiar number, so he tapped his finger against the glass and pressed the device against his ear.

  “Detective Jin Xu.”

  “Ah, detective, hello,” the voice on the other end replied. “This is Robert Grey from the coroner’s office.”

  “Mr. Grey, hello,” Jin said, straightening. “Thank you for returning my call.”

  “You’re welcome…” Rustling echoed down the phone line. “In regards to your case…I’m sorry, but I couldn’t find any record of a Miss Hannah Burke in our files. Now, it’s possible the record has been misfiled, but with all our computer systems these days, the possibility of that is slim to none, I’m afraid.”

  “No, no, I understand,” he replied. Jin still didn’t know how a computer could store all those papers, but he got the concept easily enough. “Thank you for looking; I appreciate the effort.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t have better news. Good luck with your case, detective.” The call ended.

  Jin slipped the phone into his pocket. That was that, then. There was nothing else he could do. All official avenues of enquiry were exhausted. He’d suspected this would be the outcome all along, but he hadn’t had proof—there never would be any that’d implicate the coven directly anyway, but the lack of a paper trail was a glaring indicator that he was on the right track.

  Patrick was wrong about them. They may be a new generation, but they were still up to their old tricks—preying on the Burke witches in search of their mythical ‘conduit.’

  Now they had their sights set on Holly and had already begun twisting her perception of them and of him. How could he tell her after all that’d happened? Would she even believe him?

  Jin knew the only way she’d listen is if he gave her the deepest, most painful parts of his soul. To save her life, he had to give her his.

  He had to tell her the truth…all of it.

  Holly was watching TV when she heard a knock on the door.

  She’d been trying to catch up on some of her favourite shows, anything to distract her from the minefield, but even they hadn’t done the trick. Her head was full of conspiracies, magic spells, and vampires.

  Seeing Sarah’s Legacy was incredible. Knowing that magic wasn’t just some abstract concept, but an actual force she could summon was a rush she couldn’t shake.

  Holly was jealous of her friend’s abilities, knowing she’d never be able to do what she could. A ‘drop’ was all she had, and it equated to sporadic glimpses of incomplete futures. She’d never know what colour her magic was and secretly, she was disappointed.

  Her uninvited guest knocked again.

  Maybe if she ignored them, whoever it was would go away.

  Another knock sounded and she knew it wouldn’t be that easy, not in this town.

  Groaning, Holly pressed pause on the remote. She’d never been this popular back in the city, and she longed for the peace and quiet. Irony had never tasted so…well, ironic.

  Opening the door, her heart twisted as she laid eyes on Jin. “What are you doing here?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Hannibal Lecter? Really?”

  “That’s what you have to say to me?”

  “Don’t distract me,” he fired back. “I read the book.”

  “You read…?” She sighed. “You could’ve just seen the movie.”

  “There’s a movie?”

  “Jin. Why are you here?” She pursed her lips, her gaze falling to the manila folder in his hands.

  “I—” He hesitated, staring at her like he was a wild animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. “Now that I’m here, I scarcely know where to begin.”

  “It’s not that difficult,” she told him. “You just open your mouth and say it.”

  “Holly…” He ran his hand over his face. “The last memory I have of Hazel was her being dragged out of my arms. Her terrified face, the sound of her voice screaming my na—” His voice broke, and he turned away.

  “It must hurt you,” she murmured, “to look at me.”

  He whirled around. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because I could be her twin.”

  “It’s only a resemblance,” he murmured. “I understand you’re not her. I’m not…projecting.”

  Holly sighed. “You learn fast. The future suits you.”

  “It’s just survival instincts.”

  “Then what’s so important that you keep coming back here?”

  “Your aunt,” he replied. “She didn’t die of a heart attack.”

  “What?” Of all the things she thought he might say, that wasn’t one of them.

  He held out the folder towards her. “This is your aunt’s police file.”

  Holly snatched the manila folder from him and opened it. There was a single piece of paper inside—a coroner’s report. “So?”