Page 83 of Under a Wicked Moon
Ky rose, rubbing his jaw. “Asshole.”
“You owe me an apology,” Flynn said.
“We’ll do some group counseling later. Now shut up,” Roman said.
The witch blinked at all of them as if confused. “Are you two done and ready to get on withourbattle?”
“What battle?” Roman asked. “We’re simply looking for information. Our issue isn’t with you. Maybe we’re both after the same person. I’m happy to take him off your hands, and we’ll finish the job.”
Confusion passed over her face. “Aren’t you supposed to be the ones who rush in and save shits like him?”
“We’re no one’s hero, ma’am,” Ky said while righting his shirt. “Our business here is personal. I’d be happy to put a hole in his head for what he’s done.”
“So, you’re not after me?” She crossed her arms.
“Do we have a reason we should be interested in you?” Roman sighed dramatically. “I really don’t have enough give-a-shits today to fight a brainwashed Dragonfire witch. You’ll die. We’ll be hurt, maybe over-crispy. Overall, it’ll be a complete waste of time all the way around.”
She said, “I heard rumors of some psychotic lycan brotherswho take down those of us who walk a different path.”
“Did you? I haven’t heard that rumor,” Roman said dryly. “I heard the one about four lycan brothers cursed into slavery to the bloody monarch of England against their will. The king’s a self-absorbed twit, by the way.” He hissed and rubbed his wrist around the curse band. Whenever they denigrated the monarch, they got punished. He held up his wrist and yelled at the tattoo. “He’s a twit. So fuck off.” His face smoothed over. “Sorry about that. Look, I’m under a lot of extra stress today. Like you, we’re imprisoned.” He pointed to her neck. “You want out of your prison, or did you forget you’re owned and collared like a dog that must do her programmed job and then return to her master? They messed with your head.”
She tugged at the collar around her neck and then, as if coming out of a daze, said, “Get this thing off me.” She tugged harder. “Help me.”
No one moved.
Ky said, “Ma’am, we’re not sure if you’re playing us or this is really you realizing you’ve been a captive.”
She stopped. They stared at each other in silent impasse for long seconds.
Roman said, “We’re here for a non-magical lycan who calls himself Simon, but I’m pretty sure that’s not his real name. He’s about five-eight with blond hair and a British accent.”
“No clue who you’re talking about.” The way her eyes shifted said she lied. “Get out of the store. Last warning. You’ve made enough of a mess. You’re not welcome here.”
All three of them jumped out of the way of the blast of fire that shot from her. Technically, it might have come from her mouth, but Ky had never observed one of her kind in action from far enough away to know from which body part the flame originated.
The overhead sprinkler system activated.
Flynn held up his hands to protect his head. “Damn it. I’ll have to do my hair again.”
While dripping with water, Roman removed a small hexagonal piece of wood from his inside jacket pocket and muttered a spell.
The wood stretched and enlarged into a Stubbe shield, one of the few items that offered protection against dragon fire. Sure, an anti-fire potion would be excellent and would likely shut her down if tossed on her, but the potion was hard to come by. Besides, who ran around with a random vial of it unless expecting to confront this type of witch? They met this witch variant so rarely.
Shield in front of him, Roman approached the witch. “If you can’t help us, then we need to speak to your prisoner.” A burst of flame shot out and landed uselessly against the shield. “This is your last warning, witch. Leave and let us talk to him. Or we’ll kill you.”
When the witch said nothing, Ky lunged forward and put handcuffs around her wrists, sending a basket of costume jewelry scattering in the process. Little secret about this type of witch was, if you could immobilize their hands in solid silver handcuffs, they couldn’t shoot flame. So maybe it did come from her hands.
She pointed through the curtains. “I’m supposed to get information from him.”
“Not kill him?” Ky asked.
She shook her head. “Supposed to find out if a lycan female approached him recently.”
The witch grabbed a vial off the counter with her cuffed hands, uncorked it, and sprayed a liquid all over all three of them.
Ky jumped away, rubbing.
It burned. A lot.
