Page 300 of Sigils & Spells

When Jared reached out to grab her again, she used her foot to kick his heel out from under him and he fell to the flagstones with an audible whomp.

“Here. You want something to make tonight memorable?” Mari reached beneath her dress and tugged at her thong, amused at the wide eyed expression on the little maggot’s face. Hell. He probably thought she was going to give it up to him. Not even if pigs flew and the world was taken over by flying Minions in grass hula skirts.

She slid the offending thong down her legs and kicked it off. Reaching down, she used the lacy underwear to bind the little bastard’s hands together.

“Are you going to spank me?”

“Oh. This is priceless. Wait till I bring tell the others.” Gibbs snorted, the deep belly laughs making her frown.

“You’re horrible.”

“Whoare you always talking to?”

“You really don’t want to know.”

The wood pushing at the fly of his pants about made her gag.

“You wish.” Instead, she tugged him up from the ground and hooked his wrists to the handle of one of the hanging metal planters leaving him straining on his tip toes.

“Hey. Where are you going? Mari!”

Mari glanced back at the ball room, startled to see Bertrand gazing out the window. Could he see him? She whispered a spell under her breath and hoped to the Goddess it worked.

“Gibbs. Window. Nine o’clock.”

“Oh! Mari. I love you!” The ghost sailed past her, hopefully to have a meaningful encounter with his old lover. She was sure she’d hear about it in the morning either way.

“Where are yougoing?” Jared screeched, struggling against the tightly bound underwear.

Perhaps she should rethink her hatred of thongs. Maybe the things did have a purpose after all.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she whistled to herself and smiled up at the moon, her teeth sharp in her mouth. It was time for some action and she knew just where to go. The witches were out there was no stopping her now.

CHAPTER2

“Another one.”Fenris stared down at the body of a murdered pixie and another fracture worked its way through his heart. Her broken body lay, wings broken, her limbs encased in skinny jeans and a tattered sweater with a bottle of what appeared to be doctored honey lying near her outstretched hand. Her lips were pale, her eyes glazed over in a sheen of death. Her other hand lay closed in a fist around something that appeared to be a chain but he couldn’t see what it was the way it was pressed against her body.

Seeing her there reminded him of one of the first near death’s he’d come across when he and Roark, the vampire Master of the City had begun to sweep the streets. The rogue wolves had only begun their reign of terror and Duncan was so grief stricken by the recent death of his mate he was in no fit condition to rule. The wolves knew it and there were those among them who decided to take advantage of the situation.

When he came upon the young witch in the alley, he had no way to discern just how complex the situation would become. Roark was still not entirely happy with him after he pressured him into turning the girl. Mari.

Fenris didn’t regret it. The longing in her eyes as she stared into his was enough to take his breath away. He came to Essex House often to speak with Roark about goings on in the city, each time hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

She haunted his dreams and that didn’t even begin to cover how massively fucked up that was. The girl had just been mauled within inches of her life ending and there he stood, his cock twitching in his pants wondering how sweet her lips would be to taste and how tight she would feel as he sank inside of her.

Gods.

Anyone who thought Fae were creatures of light were as foolish as the ones that believed fairy tales had happy endings. With the tug of magic came the irrepressible thirst for pain and the hunger for darkness that came with it.

That was why he fled his Queen. Any excuse to put distance between them was a much needed thing. As Captain of the Guard he had spent more time in her bedchambers than any other male in her service. There was a reason she was the Queen of the Dark Court and it wasn’t because she loved the color black. No. He learned that pain and pleasure rode each other and the raw hunger it left inside of him made him afraid.

He was charged with keeping order on this side of Faery and he meant to do as the Queen commanded. It was the least he could do to remain in her good tidings. To do anything less was to invite her involvement and that he would not and could not risk. In the centuries he’d been here, he’d come to understand more about the delicate balance that kept the human world in artificial isolation from the paranormal community. Under no circumstance were the two realities to cross paths. Those that risked it found themselves on the receiving end of his wrath. That and the rest of the Protectorate Council.

This was the second death in three days and like the first one, she was found behind the one of the local pubs, very near the fairground. Her body ravaged by what appeared to be an animal attack, he shuddered to think what her last hours may have been like.

Night had fallen fast, the scent of burning leaves tickling his nose with the promise of colder weather to come. October was a month of transitions. And this time he didn’t like the pattern that was evolving.

Humans were everywhere, the city of Salem draped in witchery and all things metaphysical. Parties, events, shops and eateries all catered to the unique flavor of this city and Fenris had been proud to call it home for centuries. Torn between the world of Faery and the human plane, if he could be anywhere, he supposed he was glad it was here. It was a shame that most couldn’t see the magic that boiled around them, hotter than any witch’s cauldron.

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