Page 74 of Witches Be Damned

“That’s enough,” Blaze warned us, motioning for us to get closer to obtain video evidence.

The three of us crept up to the red velvet curtains, Blaze in the middle, Gable at the left end, and me at the right side.

Theresa Sanchez stood in a circle with four others, three males and one female, none of whom I recognized, although three wore Shadows emblems, and the remaining, Guardians.

Dressed in her pink skirt suit, dripping in pearls, a jeweled broach, neck scarf, tights, and three-inch pumps, she still spelled dangerous bitch. I didn’t bother assessing the others when my Lycan zoned in on her, lusting for her blood for threatening my Alpha and me. Once we did away with her, our sights were set on Kymbal.

Councilwoman Sanchez clutched her designer brand purse with manicured fingers. “I’ve assembled you here today to seek your support in the upcoming Councilor election.”

Dirty, rotten bitch. Votes from allies were how she stayed in power.

“As you may know,” she went on in her haughty, entitled voice, “my nephews were falsely accused of crimes they didn’t commit and wrongly imprisoned. A vote for me will require your support to free my nephews and clear my family’s good name, and then my boys can return from exile. In return, you have my full support for any matter you raise at the Council table. Just bring it to me first to discuss.”

Meaning she supported them within reason. If she didn’t like the idea, she would knock it down and crush it, like she did during our first appeal when Knoxe, Tor, Pascal, and I were thrown into the Guardians. Now I knew why— she worked with the dirty snakes Jaz aimed to protect us from. She probably ordered her nephews to put the green light out on ending our lives in prison, explaining why we repeatedly got attacked in the halls with shanks.

Movement in the corner of my eye peeled my attention to Blaze, who gestured for us to wait and watch. My wolf wanted to unleash his terror on them. Not yet. Talon needed supporting evidence of Councilor Sanchez lobbying allies. Enough to send her to the Guardians to be locked up without a key.

Pity. I’d love to see her out completing missions without her high heels, tweed suits, jewelry, hair spray, and makeup. Getting her nails dirty and bloody, capturing and arresting gantii. That thought alone encouraged my wolf’s chest to thunder, an action I forced him to shut down fast.

“You have my support always,” an older man with glasses and a crooked nose and the kind of voice that kissed ass.

Kymbal. The man I wanted dead.

Fuck. My body rocked with the threat of full transformation.

Gable deserted his position and came to me, grabbing my arm. “Take it easy, wolfy.” He adopted his entrancing snake voice to coax me down. “Not until we get the signal.”

Tremors rattled me, and I struggled to maintain a hold when my wolf hungered for one outcome. Death. The last time I lost it and went rogue, I got kidnapped. This time I stuck close to my team for safety.

“I know you want him dead for what he did your mate.” Gable’s tone turned silkier, smoother, dragging me deeper into a state of calm. “He’s going to pay, and not with his life. The worst penalty to afford him is life in a cage. Worse than what he sentenced Astra.”

“He’ll never survive a day in prison,” I growled.

Gable patted my chest and smirked. “That’s my intention.”

I snapped my gaze to him, lost in the golden slits of his eyes, his naga serpent powers in action. On one hand, Gable showed a compassionate side, helping shifters in need. On the other, he had a vindictive heart, stained black like mine from my time in the Guardians.

I rubbed his head and messed up his hair. “I won’t kill him, Naga. I promise.”

“That’s the spirit, wolfy.” He released his control over me, his slits rounding back into pupils.

Blaze flashed hand signals at us, and I glanced past the smaller male to interpret them. Light illuminated the cuff of his uniform as his djinn tattoos charged with power.

“Go time,” he communicated our order.

The naga warlock lifted his palms and they lit up with white magick balls. “Remember, no tearing out throats.”

I grunted and pushed past him, steaming through the curtains behind Blaze as Talon and his crew shouted at the assembled traitors. A firefight ensued as they tried to break away and escape. I was on them, crash-tackling two to the floor, punching their jaws so hard, their heads snapped back, their eyes rolled back in their heads, and they fell unconscious.

Theresa scattered, losing her balance in her heels, and I sprang to my feet, pursuing her. She screamed as I launched at her and rolled her to the ground. I pinned her arms over her head and straddled her waist as she kicked and swore surprising profanities for a supposed pedigreed woman. I let her go on, my beast roaring at me to end it, but I didn’t follow through on letting her get off the easy way when she made our lives miserable.

“I’ll have you locked up for life, you vermin!” she spat at me.

Threats I didn’t give a shit about now that I was free, and Vartros destroyed my Guardians’ records. The Guild couldn’t do shit to me, and if they tried, I’d vanish and never return. That meant I could do whatever the hell I liked to her or her nephews for denying my mate’s appeal, assaulting and traumatizing her, stabbing my team and me, and bullying and beating up Pascal and Tor. Revenge tasted like blood on my tongue, and when I caught up with her nephews, I’d sink my goddamn fangs into those two assholes and make them pay.

Threats flew around from the four others cuffed and in my team’s custody.

“I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time, Kymbal.” Talon lifted the much smaller and weaselly man from the floor by his shirt. “You went after the wrong man and imprisoned my princess’ best friend.”

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