The witch hunter let himself into the room with the electronic lock pick. There was no real security at the Shelbyville B and B. No need for any. Until today the town had enjoyed a reputation for an almost imperceptible crime rate. It was one of the reasons he had chosen Shelbyville as home base for his most recent round of witch hunts.

The first time he saw the remote, tree-shrouded Tallentyre house at the end of the long, lonely lane he knew it was perfect for his purposes. It had belonged to a genuine witch. It was only fitting that it be used to destroy others of her kind. He had spent months making certain that it was safe for him to use. It had taken several more weeks to select the first witch to be punished in it. Now all his work had been wasted.

Like aunt, like niece. Clearly Raine Tallentyre had inherited her aunt’s dark powers. She, too, was a witch, the most powerful one he had yet encountered.

Rage poured through him, swamping every other sensation. In the blink of an eye the Tallentyre witch had ruined everything he had worked so hard to establish in Shelbyville. Now he would be forced to find a new location for his work.

But first he had to learn more about what he was up against. Raine Tallentyre was a threat he had never anticipated. She had to be destroyed but he must move cautiously. She was clearly very dangerous.

Fortunately, the girl he had put in the storage locker never saw his face. He always wore a ski mask when he went about his work. But the very fact that she had been found before her punishment was complete had jolted him badly. He assured himself again that she would not be able to tell the cops anything that would lead them to him. Nevertheless, for the first time in his career as a witch hunter, he was very worried. In the past he had always been able to count on the purifying effects of fire to destroy all the evidence.

After a long, sleepless night, however, he had finally understood. This was a test set by the demon.

He comprehended that his work would no longer be as easy as it had been in the past. He was moving to a new level of power and he would be hunting more powerful witches. He must be ready.

It was clear that Raine Tallentyre’s arrival in Shelbyville and her discovery of the captured witch was no accident. If he wanted to survive and grow stronger, he would have to prove to the demon that he was more powerful than Raine. He would have to hunt her and destroy her, just as he had hunted and destroyed all the lesser witches he had punished.

He stood quietly, looking around the small space. It had been a risk coming here today before the room had been cleaned but he needed something personal, an object that she would recognize when he began to hunt her. It was important that a witch knew fear before he came for her. He had discovered that satisfaction early on in his work. He sometimes spent weeks and months stalking them in order to make them afraid.

He prowled the room, searching for what he needed. He considered one of the pillowcases for a moment and then rejected it. He wanted something more interesting.

There was a damp washcloth on the towel rack in the bathroom, but it was a very ordinary white washcloth. There was nothing distinctive about it. She might not even recognize it. That wouldn’t do.

He hurried out of the bathroom. His eyes fell on the tea tray.

He reached down and picked up the delicately painted cup.

Perfect.

Later that afternoon he discovered to his horror just how much progress Langdon and the detectives from Portland and Seattle were making on the case. At the post office there were rumors of DNA and hair samples and even his precious photos. The stupid girl was remembering all sorts of things, things that could come back to haunt him.

Panic and rage roared through him. This was all the fault of the Tallentyre witch. He picked up the teacup and hurled it at the wall. The fragile china shattered.

Shaking, he went down on one knee to pick up the pieces.

Burn, witch…