Page 62 of Hospital for Immortal Creatures

Diana focused on the door again. “You’re just what I expected.”

“And what’s that, Diana?”

“A man who’s willing to exchange his body for information.” She made no effort to cover her disdain. “You don’t think I know how you made that lowlife witch in Istanbul tell you about the witch with the portals?”

He smirked. “Witches exchange information for cash only, dove.”

“Right. So, you weren’t the one who sold his body, she did.”

“She sold me information. I guarantee the sex was solely for mutual pleasure.”

Diana stared at him. “Well, I guess you’re not that good at it, then.”

“What do you mean?”

The corner of her lips curled. “I mean, you’re not good at delivering pleasure, since right after you left, the witch called over two others.”

That wiped the smirk off his face. “What?”

“Let’s just stay quiet while we wait, shall we?”

Constantine reached over and grabbed her by the wrist. “What two others?”

“I don’t know, Constantine. Some men. Clients.”

“Describe them.”

Diana glanced down at his fingers. “I don’t remember. I didn’t pay much attention to them.”

“Young, old, human, immortal?”

“I think they were immortal.”

Constantine took out his phone and dialled Mikhail, to no avail. He tried Viktor. No luck.

Then he turned to the vampire. “I need you to go get your sword.”

***

“The manticore is a conceited fool, who is about to learn that the rules of any game can change. And the lycanthrope… how shall I put this?” The dark figure deliberated, running her gloved hand over the spot where her chin should be. “He’s a cutie pie. Such a cute description, right?” The creature giggled. “A cutie pie that will soon break its leash.”

Mikhail counted thirty-five witches.

“They are clever, these two creatures. But they suck at numbers. Because two and two don’t always make four. Sometimes it’s much more. Sometimes it’s twenty-two!” The horrid laughter echoed once more. “Anyway, they walk into a witch bar. They say they come in peace but it’s not true and the witch knows it. How does she know it? She can smell the sense of superiority reeking from them. Can someone tell me what we call someone who believes their species is far better than the witch kind?”

“Racist?” One of the witches on the floor suggested.

The hood shook. “Racist? No. I don’t get the whole racism drama. After all, it is one of the most natural things on this Earth. There are species born to serve, and others born to be served.”

The crowd was made up of witches with diverse hair colours, who bobbed their heads in sync with the hood’s every word.

“When a species believes they are superior to witches, it is called stupidity. Above all else, Mada hates stupidity.”

Mikhail stepped out of the shadows and the dark figure clapped its hands.

“I was certain you wouldn’t wait until the end of the story.”

Viktor followed suit. “Good evening, ladies.” The heads turned in their direction. “And sir,” Viktor added when he spotted the only male creature in the crowd.

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