Page 36 of The Witch and The Blood Oath

I sighed and carried on. Cadence was right. Walkerdidhave his absolutely-not-face on. Besides, I wasn’t sure back-up was a terrible idea, considering I had no clue what we were walking into. I had never seen Ryder so flummoxed.

“One second,” Walker said and jogged back to his bag, abandoned by the tent. He pulled out the Sol Sword and strapped it behind his back. “Just in case.”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure how the hunter’s weapon would respond to his new powers. It didn’t burn him to touch, so I hoped that even if its flames abandoned him, he could still wield its sharpened blade. With his dad still gone, however, I feared the turmoil the loss of his family’s magic would cause the cowboy.

It doesn’t matter,I reminded myself.Walker is not for you to worry about.

We traveled quickly and quietly through the dense forest. The more ground we covered, the more strange magic I sensed. A hazy scent filtered through the air. It was strong and sweet like lavender.

As we grew closer to the foreign magic, Walker matched me stride for stride. He moved with the grace of a witch, and pride bloomed in my chest. Using his magic, even if it was only to navigate a forest, was a huge step for him.

Despite my insistence upon braving this alone, I was grateful for his company. Walking into a dangerous situation with the cowboy, I could handle. It didn’t allot any time for kissing.

Great,I thought,now I’m thinking about kissing Walker.

I pushed the thought out of my mind and focused on the strange magic. Like Ryder, I had never sensed anything like it before. It was earthy and sounded like a low bass thrumming in my ears, but I couldn’t home in on it. It slipped through my senses like air. All I could grasp was the sweet smell, which was now strong enough to hurt my head.

“Do you feel that?” I whispered.

Walker nodded and drifted a little closer to me. His hand flexed like he wanted to reach for me but resisted.

As we neared the other side of the pond, the magic swelled. It was a heady rush in the air. Several short, stout figures huddled around a fire. At first, I thought they wore baggy clothing or blankets over their shoulders, until I realized their shapes weren’t quite human.

Hidden by the trees, we crept even closer. Raucous laughter erupted from the group. There were six of them. One of them grinned and revealed huge teeth with a set of elongated canines. Its head was larger than a human’s, and green tufts of hair sprouted from its gray-brown scalp.

The creature’s eyes were muddy brown and absent of whites. Rough-hewn fabric covered its body. Its skin appeared textured—rough like a rock. In fact, I’d been mistaken when I assumed they sat on rocks.

They sat on their haunches.

I met Walker’s gaze. It wasn’t difficult to decipher his expression.

What the hell are those things?he mouthed.

I scrambled for an answer. As Walker would say, these creatures were most definitely not frommyneck of the woods. I had taken, however, several classes about all the supernaturals in the world.

Ishouldknow this.

They were certainly not golems. No one made golems to sit around a campfire, and I sensed no nearby witches. They weren’t orcs either—they were far too short and too far from home to be the creatures that populated the forests of Russia.

One of the creatures passed a huge, smoking cigar to the one whose face we could see, and I finally recognized the magic in the air. Sweet and earthy smoke coiled from the cigar.

Salvia.

They were smoking the salvia plant—known for its magical, vision-inducing properties and commonly used by…

Trolls.

“Dear Goddess,” I whispered.

The troll’s gaze snapped to mine, and I winced.

We were screwed, or we were saved.

I wasn’t sure yet.

Chapter Eleven

Walker

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