Another state. Another body. Eight victims. Were we still talking about one killer? Some fae hunted in packs. That might explain the range. No. The magical signatures were identical. No two creatures gave me the same buzz. Not even relatives. Not even twins. I could always tell when Lori…

Cool winds.

Damp sand.

Delicate footprints erased by the slap of angry waves.

“Catch me if you can, Cam.”

Grief ricocheted through my chest, the razor edge of loss so sharp my heartstrings felt severed anew. The crushing weight of the memory bowed my shoulders and bent my knees. I began power walking toward my rental car before realizing I hadn’t said my goodbyes. I had left the sorry excuse for a pond behind without a second thought.

Shoving a hand in the pocket of my wilted slacks, I groped around and came up empty. Comeaux. I had given him the keys so that when—if—a panic attack struck, I couldn’t run from the scene before my job was done. Not without asking for the fob back and humiliating myself.

Pounding footsteps sent relief fluttering through me. I wouldn’t have to endure a walk of shame today after all. Comeaux reached me at the same time as I arrived at my ride.

“That’s it?” He mopped the sweat beading on his forehead with a fast food napkin from his pocket. “You’re leaving?”

“Another body has been found.” Another drowning victim, another small punishment to chip away at what remained of my sanity. Accepting Vause’s commission to work these cases had been a mistake, but sign up I had and soldier on I would. “You have my contact information if you think of anything else.”

“Was it worth it?” He crumpled the damp paper. “Did you get what you needed?”

Latent power buzzed in my fingertips at the thought of the corpse. “I got what I came for.”

Confirmation Charybdis had claimed another victim.

I held out my hand. “Key, please.”

He slapped the fob across my palm. A sweaty business card curled around it. His.

“I’ll be in touch.” He leaned against a nearby tree and took relief in its dense shade. “Safe travels.”

“Tell Flipper I said bye.” I slid behind the wheel of the sedan while Comeaux hooted. I dropped the chunky fob into a cup holder then pushed the start button and pulled onto the road.

Wink, Texas, here I come.

Chapter 2

The Wink Sinks of Winkler County were two sinkholes barely visible from the highway. I knew, because twenty-four hours after leaving Villanow, I sat in the teensy Chevy Spark I picked up at the Midland International Air and Space Port while squinting in what the GPS assured me was their general direction. Even though from this distance there appeared to be more fence posts spearing the cracked earth than water filling the basins.