Page 1 of Warrior Witch

Harlow

“It was a compliment!” I insisted as another punch breezed past my nose. “Didn’t you hear me? I said it was impressive that your girlfriend can look past your scraggly muttonchop sideburns and see the three struggling brain cells you call a personality. True love really does exist! You two are an inspiration.”

The man huffed an angry breath, his bright red cheeks almost steaming with rage. “Mouthy bitch!”

He threw another punch, but his movements were slow and easy to avoid.

“Sir, please, keep your arms at your sides! Unlike your girlfriend, I’m not prepared to handle your eye-watering odor.”

Riling him up probably wasn’t the best idea, but it was just too easy. Not to mention, fun.

Growling, he swung for me again, not noticing the wall directly behind me until I dashed to the side. The painful crunch of his knuckles against the bricks echoed in my ears, and I almost felt bad for the guy. Though at least he wouldn’t be using that hand to grope unsuspecting strangers on the dance floor again any time soon.

Heels clacked on the concrete, then a shrill voice yelled, “Kevy-Bear!”

Girlfriend finally finished flirting at the bar, I see.

“Fuck off, Sandra!” He pushed her away roughly with his good hand, turning to me with a snarl. “This bitch is gonna—”

Blood spurted from his nostrils like juice from a crushed watermelon as I introduced his nose to my fist.

I had no desire to hear the rest of that bastard’s threat.

His head smacked back on the wall with a resounding crack that had the people surrounding us cringing in sympathy. A group of men wearing matching leather vests pushed through the crowd to where ‘Kevy-Bear’ lay in a pathetic, bloody, crumpled ball. Served him right.

“You and your little boy band are formally banned from Cassandra’s Bane,” I announced, wiping the asshole’s blood on the side of my dark work pants. “Now get out of here before we call the cops.”

The men exchanged glances before scampering, cussing me out as they dragged the heap of flesh I assumed was their boss. “You won’t get away with this!”

“Take care, Kevy-Bear!” I yelled after them, waving my fingers delicately, like I hadn’t just knocked out a man twice my size.

I was always happy to throw out rowdy customers. The other members of the security team at Cassandra’s Bane preferred to use their words and impressive physiques to intimidate people into leaving, but they were mostly men with several inches of height on me. At five-seven, I wasn’t short, but it wasn’t always easy to encourage people to kindly get the fuck out without making a few threats.

And if I had to make good on those threats, that was more than fine with me.

The crowd dispersed until only a small queue remained, so I headed back inside the club to let the manager know the Grim Hearts MC members were acting up again. Something must have changed with them, because they never used to be this dickish. Not until recently. Now I had to throw out one or more of their members every other night.

Electricity crackled across my reddened knuckles with every step. I hadn’t needed to use my magic in that fight, and now it was searching for a way out. I shook my hands to ease the stinging, and the sparks fizzled out. Still, the restless sensation in my body remained.

I shouldn’t have finished off that asshole so quickly.

Just a few months ago, a fight like that would have left me relaxed and satisfied for a week, maybe more. Tonight, it barely scratched the surface of my tension.

“Kedron’s not gonna be happy with you,” my favorite voice sang from behind the bar.

Lindsay’s golden makeup was almost dazzling under the flashing club lights. He was so beautiful it was no wonder he had so many regulars coming back here several times a week just to see him.

I’d known Lindsay since we were five years old when Alice fucking Presley—who thought she was so cool sharing a name with some king from like a hundred years ago, news flash, we were all orphans in that foster home—thought it would be funny to lock me in a closet with him after we’d switched the only clothes bought for us. Real original. Her laughter stopped real quick after I shaved one of her eyebrows off that night and Lindsay bleached the other.

We didn’t last long in that home, or any home, but we’d bonded over revenge and a love of post-mayhem peanuts. Seventeen years later, my bestie still had my back.

“Kedron can smile and thank me.” I stalked over to an empty corner of the bar, trying not to think about how much our boss will hate finding out about another fight at his venue. “Those jackasses had it coming, and you know it.”

Lindsay nodded as he wiped down the bar, looking busy while we talked. “Oh, couldn’t agree more there. But if you keep throwing out all our customers, even just the jackasses, there won’t be any money coming in for us to get paid.”

He had a point. That said, I wasn’t about to let some scumbag carry on groping people under my watch. The people coming here had a right to safety, and I planned to earn my minimum wage paycheck.

“We need the money, Harlow,” he reminded me, a serious tone smothering his usually light demeanor. “We can pick up extra shifts at Eclipse, no problem, but if you get any more medical bills because of a dumb fight—”

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