Page 9 of Hooked on a Witch
Chapter Three
“I’m not a witch.”
Like hell you’re not a witch.Merck tried not to laugh, but ayeah-rightsnort escaped him.
“What about this?” he asked, giving the scrying glass a shake where it dangled from his finger.
Her eyes narrowed. “Give me back the glass.”
“No.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Won’t argue that, but I’m the asshole who saved your ass last night.” He liked her angry. It helped him distance himself from how much everything about her pushed him to the edge.
The edge of behaving out of character. Insane. Irrational. Like how much he wanted to kiss her right now. The temptation nearly overrode common sense. Lord, the girl had beautiful eyes. When he saw her blue eyes in the bar and she recognized him, he felt the string connecting their lives draw taut. That instant link hadn’t diminished over the years, even though it should’ve.
Nope. No kissing with her. There’s no sort of connection crap. Focus on the scrying glass and why she wants it.
She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “I’d appreciate you returning my glass to me.”
“Yours, huh? Do you know what this piece is?”
“Of course, I know it’s a scrying glass.”
“Do you know how it works? What it requires to work it?”
She chewed on her lower lip. “Not really. Do you? I’d appreciate a few hints.”
He swiped a hand across his face, relieved she didn’t entirely know what she’d acquired. That didn’t erase her intent to use it, though.
“This is the Delmindes scrying glass. It’s dangerous.” For decades, he’d searched for this piece to confiscate it, to put it into his vault of objects best never used again, but which couldn’t be destroyed. “It requires death to scry the secret that’s being sought.”
“Death? What kind of death? Like sacrificing a chicken or something?”
“It’s black magic.”
“Okay, I’ll kill a chicken or a duck.”
Surprised, he laughed. “A duck?”
She remained serious. The woman planned to try to power a dark magical item with a duck’s death.
“I don’t want to kill a duck, but there are plenty of dumb ducks no one will miss. There’s one at the house who keeps chewing the landscape lights. She’s bound for electrocution since all the lights are hard wired.”
He laughed harder. All concern she was one of the black-magic practitioners pilgrimaging to South Carolina vanished. Those who’d traveled here weren’t the Mickey Mouse black-magic practitioners. They were the top-tier bad dogs He didn’t know why they were swarming here, but guessed it had to do with Shannon.
“Darlin’, the tricky part about black magic is what happens to the person dabbling with it. It comes with a price, such as a piece of the caster’s soul or a human death. Human death is required to work this piece.”
Her face blanched. “I didn’t know that.”
“Figured you didn’t.” He wondered what she needed to know desperately enough to make a deal with Harnish. He pocketed the glass.
“It’s still mine.”
“Not anymore. You should be worried that a top-end witchcraft supplier prioritized kidnapping you over selling you a priceless scrying glass. This glass on the real market would cost far more than money. He lured you on purpose.” Harnish had always seemed like a harmless, yet smart, businessman. Not a trafficker in people. Something much larger was afoot.
“I think he was threatened into doing it. Just a hunch based on his reaction to whatever message he got on his cell phone at the bar.”
