Page 87 of Sawyer

“Come on, Sawyer.” Bryn holds a hand out for me. My palm slides into his, and I hop out, taking in his chocolate scent.

I smell myself as my scent deepens, and a blush blooms on my cheeks. “You’re right—I need to control myself.”

Chuckling, Bryn leads me to the front door. Rumor and Sin are already inside. “I like it, but I want you alive, so here we are.”

Incense slaps me in the face as I step in. The shop is clean and modern, with bright red décor and deep grays. A couch and chairs sit to the left, while a long bar takes up the right and dips to the front in an L-shaped pattern. All along the back wall are jars of…

Ingredients.

That’s what grabs my attention. The herbs and other disturbing contents.

“Eyes?” I squint at a jar.

“Maggots,” a woman with a thick, curt accent answers.

My attention turns to the familiar woman stepping up to the counter. Long, black hair drapes over her shoulder, covering the tattoos that travel down her arms, and her bright red lipstick makes her look even more exotic and sensual.

She’s also the only mage who sits on the council. This explains why she has a shop downtown that isn’t vandalized.

“Mila,” I say in greeting and slip onto a bar stool, the men flanking me—a move she notes with a raised brow and dimples that deepen her cheeks.

“Ah, my favorite reporter.” She leans on the counter, tapping red polished nails against her lips. “Let me read your cards.”

“No, thank you, Mila.” I know better than to have a mage read my cards. It’s far too real, far too ominous.

“Fine.” She sighs as though I’m the one putting her out. “Four scent suppressants.” She reaches under the counter and pulls out four packets with a few little pills. “I’m trying a new product.”

“Will they work?” I question as I lift the clear packet.

“Better than before, yes.” She nods at the packets before turning to Rumor. “I billed you.”

“Appreciate it, Mila.”

The mage tilts her head, and her catlike eyes squint at me in that unnerving way only mages can accomplish. There are tales that they aren’t from Terra but another world altogether.

As she tracks me with her dark eyes, I can believe that rumor.

“You have a strange aura.” Her long, pointed fingernails tap the counter before she shocks the hell out of me and jumps up onto the damn counter. Rumor grips me and spins us around a moment before Mila lands on her stiletto heels. The clack reverberates all around us. “No.” Her accent thickens, but I can’t see her.

“Don’t touch me, witch,” Rumor snarls at her, the rumble spreading through him and toward me.

“I’m no more a witch than you are a true berserker,” Mila retorts in her thick, smoky voice. “She’s charged. Auras are not charged.”

“What are you saying?” It’s Sin who reacts first. From the corner of my eye, I watch as he looks from me to Mila. His rosy cheeks deepen, and a frown changes his entire face until he’s scowling. “A tracker.”

“I can remove it,” Mila says. “For a fee.”

“Fuck,” Rumor spits before spinning me back around. “What fee?”

As it is, we are running up a debt that money can’t pay off.

“A favor.” Mila steps up to me. She’s beautiful in a gothic way. Her dark cat eyes, black hair, and tattoos make her look like a goddess I once read about in fables as a girl. She speaks like a regal queen and prefers to live here instead of her home. “For the future.”

“Done,” Sin says, tossing the gavel down before any of us can have a say. I would have agreed if we talked about it.

I haven’t even had enough time to process the fact that there’s a tracker in me before Mila brandishes a small knife and tilts my head to the side.

There is one question I hope she can answer. “Who put it there?”

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