Page 19 of Pitch a Witch
“How did you get here?” Suspicion made his weaselly eyes dart around the room.
“Through the door, just like you.” My magic ignored my need when I faced the demons, but it was a churning ocean in my chest this close to Shadowblood. At least we agreed on one thing.
We both hated the High Priest.
“This is her doing,” Shadowblood sneered, his knobbed forefinger pointed at Sissily.
“Don’t even think about it.” I had his crooked finger in my grasp in an instant and twisted it hard enough to buckle his knees. “Before you gather enough magic to hurt her, I’ll feed you your black heart.”
“Release me, you stupid girl …”
A high-pitched scream ripped from his throat when I wrenched with everything in me and snapped the bone. An insatiable hunger opened like an abyss inside me, and I could’ve sworn that I tasted his pain on my tongue. Whispers, faint at first but gaining in volume, filled my thoughts, and I pounced on the old witch. My fists hammered at any opening I could find until he sprawled on the floor. I followed him down, and after I straddled him, I continued pounding on his flesh. Each time his muttered curses flew from his hands while he flailed to ward off my attacks, they burst in a flash of light that formed stars blinking at the edges of my vision.
Muffled voices droned somewhere in the background, but they were far away enough it was easy to ignore them. This close to Shadowblood, the stench of the blood magic only fed my fury. The creature inside me recognized something in the sour odor that drove it insane. It wanted the High Priest dead, not just to hurt him.
My body became airborne when I was plucked from Shadowblood.
After flopping around for a moment in my attempts to return to pummeling the old witch, I blinked rapidly in hopes of bringing the present into focus. When I saw the bloody mess in a heap on the floor, I sagged in River’s arms. I didn’t need to see Blondie to know it was him. My nose and lungs were full of his fresh scent despite the blood dripping from my knuckles and covering my jeans. I’d never admit it to anyone, but I had a feeling wing man was the only one who could’ve pulled me back from whatever insanity had taken over my head.
“Easy there, Miss Byrne,” Blondie murmured in my ear, holding me in the air like I was no heavier than a feather. Speaking of feathers …
“Put me down, pigeon. You don’t want to keep Shadowblood company in the infirmary.” Neither River nor Sissily looked impressed by the nickname I gave Blondie.
Tough crowd, these ones.
“Can I trust you not to attack him?” The way he said it, low and too close to my ear, had me shivering in his hold.
A few things became obvious then. Danika stood to the side, ignoring the bloody pile of High Priest I left her in the middle of a ritual room like some cadaverous offering, her calculating gaze locked on me. River was squeezing me to his chest as if someone was trying to take me from him, to be precise. And Sissily was crouched next to a paler-than-a-sheep Josh, who gawked at me like I had a penis dangling from my forehead. With a huff, I sagged in Blondie’s hold.
“Well. This is awkward.” Slithering out of the vise-like grip, I tugged on my borrowed t-shirt for no reason at all.
“I hope there is an explanation as to why my High Priest is beaten unconscious on the floor?” One of Danika’s perfectly styled eyebrows arrowed up.
“He smells,” Sissily blurted out, and I shot her a glare.
“He tried to kill Josh after he threatened him,” I told my grandmother. “I had to do something. Plus, yeah. He stinks of old blood magic.”
“I already said that.” My best friend blushed to her follicles and stuck her tongue out at me.
“Mr. Blackman, take my granddaughter and her friends back to my office. I need to see what this is all about.” Danika waved a hand at the heap that was Shadowblood.
“I will break your hand if you touch me.” Teeth bared at River, I grabbed Sissily and darted out of the ritual room like my ass was on fire.
I’d deal with imps gnawing on me all day as long as Blondie kept his tentacles away from me. What was worse … it wasn’t because I still didn’t trust him around me.
I didn’t trust myself when it came to River Blackman.
13
Hightailing it out of Danika’s sight did not mean I was a coward.
I was an adult witch with a shit ton of magic, which made me a literal powerhouse in the supernatural world. Not many could claim they had a price on their head without lifting a finger, thank you very much. One blown up library and half a coven building notwithstanding, since that was an accident. I was strong, independent, had a killer fashion sense, and I was a tough-as-nails badass when it came to anything and everything. Plus, I had a mean right hook.
Okay, fine, I was scared.
I’d seen what my grandmother could do when she found out someone had crossed her or did something behind her back with my own peepers, and let me tell you, it was fucking ugly. I would bet my newly found magic some of the jars I destroyed held organs from some of those individuals. Shit you not, I felt bad for the bloody pulp that was Shadowblood. What I did to the poor shmuck no doubt paled in comparison to what Danika had in store for him.
My skin prickled with thousands of needles from her power, and we were halfway down the hallway when the wave hit me.
