Page 72 of Witch Queen

Felipe’s face darkened. He took a menacing step forward.

“You!” he snarled at Gloria. “You were the one who helped Raya fool us all!”

Gloria eyed the Medellin coven High Priest guardedly. Anya stepped between them.

“Enrique already explained what happened, Felipe,” she said steadily. “Gloria was forced to use her magic to protect her daughter, just as I was tortured to use mine. She helped Mae and Enrique save me.”

“I’m sorry,” Gloria said quietly. “I know it’s too little too late, but I truly am.”

Felipe fisted his hands. “Why are you here?!”

“To help,” Mrs. Son-Ha replied in Gloria’s stead. The Shaman walked up to Felipe and furrowed her brows as she tilted her head and looked up at him. “The past is the past, sorcerer. Right now, you need to work together to stop what is to come.”

She glanced pointedly at the sky.

Jared sighed and ran a hand through his hair in the fraught hush. “When did Mae give you the keys to Betsy?”

Mrs. Son-Ha flinched. She mumbled something.

“What?”

“I said she didn’t,” Mrs. Son-Ha said sourly. “I had spare keys made.”

Regina sucked in air and clutched her chest. “You stole the Witch Queen’s scooter?!”

Mrs. Son-Ha sniffed. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. She’s in Hell, after all.”

“Wait,” Valentina said to Karin. “Mae rides a Vespa?!”

Karin grimaced. “The coven gave her a car, but apparently she got that many speeding tickets she almost lost her license.”

Abraham shook his head. “That woman is a menace behind the wheel of any vehicle.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX

“He who wearsthe mantle of the Sorcerer King cannot wield both black and white magic!” Azazel shouted over his shoulder.

The wind lashed at Mae’s hair as she stared at her father. They were flying through Hell Deep on Vozgan. Since the dragon was smaller and faster than his father, they’d requested his help in their search for Ran Soyun’s prison.

The young dragon had agreed with an enthusiasm that had worried Vannog and Armaros and had caused Astarte to frown.

“This isn’t a fun little adventure, you know,” the Goddess had grumbled as they’d prepared to leave Armaros’s keep.

“I know,” Vozgan had whined.

He’d stood patiently in the courtyard while Us’gorith and Armaros’s servants fitted a giant saddle on his back.

“Be careful, my son.” Vannog had nuzzled Vozgan’s face lovingly. “And don’t just eat anything you fancy,” he’d warned sharply, blowing smoke in the dragon’s eyes.

Vozgan had flinched and avoided his father’s hard stare. “I won’t.”

“Ten bucks says he’s coming with us because of the potential snacks we may come across,” Cortes had told Nikolai dully.

I don’t trust that dragon as far as I can throw him, my witch, Hellreaver had muttered where he hung around Mae’s neck.

“You’re one to talk.”

Ilmon had hugged Vlad tightly, his eyes bright with a sheen of tears.

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