Page 35 of The Wolfing Hour
Cecil’s magic firebomb wasn’t nearly the revenge I’d craved, but it had apparently been enough to appease the demon in me.
Chapter
Seven
Chapter Seven
Margaux had called Bronwyn and the only other witch in her former coven, Billy Lopez. Along with Fennel, the three of them had been able to pool their magic and remove the remaining silver from Gladys’s wound.
If I hadn’t demoned-out and stormed off, I could’ve added to their magic sooner and healed her more quickly. Saved her some suffering.
The guilt had been eating at me all day.
Together, we’d gotten her stabilized and set her up in her trailer. Ida and Margaux would remain at her bedside until she was well enough to be alone. Despite Gladys’s fast-healing ability and the removal of the silver, she was still very hurt.
I sat on her front porch steps and stared at the clear sky. The moon glowed like the headlight of a cosmic motorcycle, hellbent on mowing me down.
“You okay?”
Ronan approached me in a half circle, announcing his arrival as if I were some out-of-control beast who’d react with violence if startled. Or maybe I was projecting.
“I was just imagining the moon running over me,” I said.
“None of this is your fault.”
“Pretty sure the running away part is.”
He plopped down beside me. His jaw was red and raw, like a slowly healing third degree sunburn. Upon my return to the senior center, I’d discovered that Ronan hadn’t been gnawing at Gladys’s wounds for no reason; he’d been removing the silver so she could heal.
“Did the charm help with the pain?”
He nodded. “I’m good. The witches worked on me after they finished on Gladys. I’ll heal. It’s just going to take a few more hours.”
“It’s already eight o’clock. We picked Gladys up hours ago.”
“Tomorrow morning I’ll be as good as new,” he said. “Good call on your part, summoning the witches.”
“Was it?”
He elbowed me gently. “You okay?”
I leaned my head on his shoulder. “I messed up today. Ida’s disappointed, Fennel’s disappointed, and you’re disappointed. The only one who isn’t upset is Cecil and that’s only because he got to firebomb Pallás Place.”
“It’s completely charred, you know.” Ronan’s smile made me feel a little better, even if it didn’t last long—the smile or the feeling.
“Too bad Floyd didn’t have the La Paloma coven on retainer to put a protection spell on the building,” I said. “Guess that’s what happens when you overthrow the coven and try to murder them all.”
“Unlike me, who has the most badass witch in town on retainer.”
“On retainer? Is that what we’re calling it?” I teased.
“We can call it anything you like, Betty Bonita.” He blew out a long, tired sigh. “I’m sorry. This was because of me. The attack, I mean.”
“A pack reckoning has been a long time coming. Floyd’s hurt too many people—his own wolves included.” I reached for Ronan’s hand, threaded our fingers. “It’s time for me to use my ace in the hole.”
“You mean the blackmail? The incriminating photos you have on him?”
“Photos, files, video,” I said, “I think you’re going to be surprised at how much information I’ve amassed.”
