Page 24 of Witch Bound and Down

"If it's just enhancement potions, why would other witches want to stop the delivery?"

Bullseye's jaw tightened. "Maybe they're competitors. Or maybe they think there's more money in it for them."

But Hazel could tell he was holding something back. The way his hands gripped the steering wheel, the tension in his shoulders—whatever they were really carrying was more significant than he'd let on.

"This just keeps getting better," Hopper muttered. "First the law, now angry witches. What's next, a vampire biker gang?"

The CB crackled again. "Bullseye, this is Snowman. You need to copy this transmission, good buddy."

"Go ahead, Snowman."

"I just had a very interesting conversation with some witches at my last fuel stop. They seemed real curious about my cargo manifest, and when I declined to share that information, they made some threats." Snowman's voice was tight with anger. "These ladies were serious business though—organized, determined. But it takes more than angry spellcasters to stop an experienced hauler. Still, they're not the only ones looking. Word is, there's at least three different groups trying to track down our shipment."

"Three groups?"

"Law enforcement, angry witches, and some folks nobody seems to want to identify. This job just got more complicated."

Bullseye and Hazel exchanged glances. Their romantic moment had been thoroughly shattered by the reality of their situation.

"What do we do?" she asked quietly.

"We stick to the plan," Bullseye replied, but his voice was tense. "Snowman makes the delivery, we provide interference. But now we're not just running from Sheriff Lawman anymore."

"How much more dangerous could it get?"

"Famous last words," Hopper pointed out. "Right up there with 'what could possibly go wrong' and 'it's probably nothing.'"

As if in answer to her question, the sound of engines echoed across the desert—multiple vehicles, moving fast, and getting closer.

"I think," Bullseye said grimly, starting the Trans Am, "we're about to find out."

Chapter 6

Bullseye

The sound of approaching engines was getting louder, which meant they had maybe thirty seconds before whoever was hunting them crested the ridge and spotted the Trans Am. Bullseye's mind raced through their options: fight, flight, or try to hide behind rocks that probably wouldn't conceal a motorcycle, let alone a muscle car.

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