Page 91 of Her Blood Revenge

We head towards the gate.

When they see us descending, they spread the word to those inside. Their distant and panicked voices would usually be amusing, but today… today, I am not in the mood. If they make any trouble, I will level this place. And if she’s in there and they have laid a hand on her, I will be their end.

One of the witches leans anxiously over the wall.

‘My Lord General,’ he greets, with a tremble in his voice. ‘What an unexpected pleasure. What can we do for you?’

‘Open the gates.’

‘Our coven leader is not here.’

I know that. The fucker tried to kill me a couple of hours ago.

‘Who is in charge in his absence?’ I call up.

The witch side eyes his companion.

I step forward. ‘I am sure you are aware of what will happen if you resist our entry or refuse to answer our questions. Speak, Witch.’

‘Lord Bensen is in charge.’

‘Open the gates, earth witch, and take us to him. I will not ask again.’

Begrudgingly, the witch gives the order to open the gates. And we enter.

I loathe this place. Our girl creates the most exquisite blooms. Flowers with a scent that lasts for days after first smelling. Leaves of the most lush greens.

Despite residing in the forests, there is very little life here. Mud and rock make up the roads. Dried wood and stone house the witches.

We walk through the streets, making our way to the main square.

And we wait as they rush off, seeking out their master.

‘I can’t smell her, Shaw,’ Arch says, inhaling deeply and looking around. ‘Not Pix. Not Dorian. Not Neve. Nothing but mud witch.’

‘Neither can I.’ A part of me darkens at that realisation. That she isn’t close enough to track. That I can’t feel the mark I put on her skin. That she’s not withinreach. ‘But she may still come. And Neve, too, if what Pixie said was the truth. Keep your senses sharp.’

It’s not long until the mud witches arrive, muttering in panicked whispers with this new leader of theirs. He’s a fat, ageing male with long grey hair that falls to his lower back. He straightens his deep green velvet robes as he approaches, robes reserved for their ceremonies and other special occasions. He has several witches at his side and a couple of other higher-up witches behind him. I can tell by the niceness of their clothing. Pixie wore rags. These have more standing here than she did. And that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth far worse than the polluted blood she left behind.

The male, Bensen, lowers his head as he stands before us.

‘My Lord General,’ he says, a tremble in his voice as he dares not meet my gaze. ‘What a pleasure to have you here tonight. Usually, I would welcome you with open arms, but… unfortunately… tonight is, well…’ He glances around, checking no doubt to see if Archie and I are the only threat to be seen. ‘We are to start our ceremony in the next hour, and as you are aware, these are private and restricted ceremonies that…’ He takes a step back as my eyes narrow and my patience thins. ‘H-how may I be of service?’ He decides to say in conclusion.

I know I’m not supposed to be here when they do their archaic and heathenistic little rituals. It’s part of the treaty between them and the humans. But seeing as we’re no longer in the human’s employ, the rules apply to us even less than they did before.

With a single stride, I remove any space between us. My hand grips his collar, and his feet lift from the ground.

‘I do not give a flying-ever-loving-fuck about your ceremonies and rituals, Bensen. I’m looking for a witch.’

‘A w-witch?’ he laughs nervously, his feet still swaying as I hold him up. ‘Well. We have a few of those here.’

‘Ashe Nectan. She here?’

His face falls as I speak her name, and his unease turns to a mixture of terror and revulsion.

‘S-she is d-dead, My General. I mean, My Lord… General… sir.’

I lift him higher so his fat little face is in mine.

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