Page 2 of Witches Be Damned

Tor wrapped his massive arms over his chest, feigning innocence. “Can’t a man get pampered in here? Supergal always makes my coffee. I miss her and need a little loving.”

“Make your own, asshole.” Ben nudged him and they shared a laugh.

I cleared my throat. “I’ve gotta take a leak. Be right back, Ben.”

“Go for it,’ Ben replied. “I’ll be here being Tor’s bitch.”

“Come here and hug me, Ben.” Tor threw his arms over the guard, going over the top with his act.

My nerves were on edge as I made a break for it down the hall, maintaining a steady pace to avoid alerting any sentries of my objective. Within a few minutes, I made my way to the laundry facility, where I found what I needed to break into the vault without setting off any warnings.

Alarms. Fuck. The vault was likely laced with motion detectors. We didn’t think that one through carefully before negotiating with Mads. I’d try my luck and broker another clause before handing over the compass and avoid really fucking myself. If the odds didn’t swing in my favor, well, at least the rest of the team would get Sunset back.

I stuffed the vial of mothman spit in my pocket and backtracked to the bathroom.

Thank you, Raze, my man.

Sitting by his side while he was sick and delirious in the hospital from werewolf venom poisoning, I inadvertently overheard murmurs about his stash of mothman spit, the key to jumping through a portal into the locked vault.

Fuck you, thief avatar.

I didn’t care if he heard my prayer… curse… whatever. Trust the slippery con artist to demand such an impossible exchange and provide me with zero assistance when he slipped in and out of the prison with his god’s magick. He could have poofed into the vault with ease, but no, he wanted to make us sweat and work for the data.

I swore, he better not screw us and steal this tech. Mads proclaimed the need to hide the compass from the Fae searching for it, which seemed legit, since they cornered us on a mission, demanding we get it for them. Karma always came back around, didn’t it?

Huddled in the restroom cubicle, I got to work, uncapping the vial and pouring a drop onto my finger. I had no idea how much to use or if I needed a damn spell word. Cameras captured most areas of the prison, even the bathrooms, for prisoner security, but they didn’t reach inside the stalls.

Guardians traveled out of the prison from the Terra Room only. That way, no gantii or other forces could penetrate the prison beyond the magically protected walls. But since I was already inside the fortress, those rules didn’t apply.

Fuck, here goes.

Sweat dampened my forehead, palms, and neck as I swiped my finger vertically through the air, tearing through the veil and commanding, “Transfer me inside the Guardians’ vault.”

Blue light shimmered, illuminating the cubicle’s walls. Wary of it showing on the damn cameras, I flung myself through the portal, stumbling inside the darkened Guardians’ vault, knocking into something. Slammed with portal sickness, I groped for position, bracing myself against a shelf. A flaming sword provided the only light in the cramped space. Any moment now, the motion sensors would detect me and flick the lights on, setting off a warning to the sentries. I had to be quick. In and out. Bargain with Mads to save my hind end if the cameras captured footage of me.

When my dizziness bottomed out, I gathered my bearings.

Seven rows of shelves stored magical items, texts, weapons, and ingredients. Prisoners weren’t allowed inside the vault, only the warden and sentries, and a prickle of excitement glossed over my neck. Seconds ticked down as I picked up the sword, using it as a torch, hurrying through the vault’s contents. Concrete set in my gut as I searched the items, finding the compass on the fifth shelf, between a crossbow and dagger. Magick tingled in my fingertips as I lifted it and wrapped it in my palm.

“I’ve got it, thief avatar,” I called out, a frantic drumbeat playing in my head, hoping he didn’t make me sweat it out in here, only coming to my rescue when the guards arrived.

Green magick sparkled as Mads solidified inside the vault, grinning at me like a cocky bastard. “I didn’t think you had the balls.”

“You could have slipped this yourself, you know,” I growled at him.

He checked his fingernails. “Where’s the fun in that?” The tricky bastard kept them short and clean, letting others do his dirty work. “I believe you owe me that.” He stretched out a hand.

“Uh-ah.” I tucked my hand behind my back. “Get me out of here first. Erase any footage of me inside here. Deactivate any alarm that was set off by the motion detectors.”

Mads leaned his head to one side. “We’ve already made the deal.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Change it.”

The thief avatar swaggered up to me, unafraid, eyes glinting with mischief. “I could take the compass and leave you locked inside here.”

My hands fisted over the compass. I’d fight him to protect it if I had to. Man versus avatar. “Tor was under duress when he made the bargain. Can’t you grant us leeway for forgetting a few clauses?”

Mads’ lips pursed in deliberation, and I wanted to lift him off the ground by his Dior shirt or whatever the hell he was wearing. “Just this once. Next time, check your stipulations. I’m an avatar of contracts and can’t be seen granting favors for everyone who makes a deal.”

---