Page 29 of Hell Hath No Fury
Her words rebounded in my skull, and I couldn’t stop the full body shiver that clattered my teeth.
I took a deep breath. “It’ll be fine,” I told her again. “I’m not afraid of the dark. I’m the thing that the dark needs to fear.” On that thought, I winked at her and walked out of the compound.
CHAPTER FOUR
Six Days Later
The meeting with the Sons of Templar went without incident. I toyed with the idea of blowing off some steam with one of the many men who made it clear they were interested but thought better of it.
As much as us witches liked to look, we understood that we didn’t mix our mortal business with the truest parts of ourselves. Too dangerous. Too messy.
Again, that rule did not bother me, nor did the men excite me enough, despite their more than agreeable looks. Men didn’t tend to excite me in general. I enjoyed sex and the pleasure it provided, but men didn’t give me any sort of feeling.
If only I were attracted to women, then the only time I’d need a man was to bring a child into this world.
But alas, I did not swing that way. Not for lack of trying.
The time away from the coven had not dulled my fury even a little. I dreaded coming back, and with every mile I grew closer, the more my fury built.
Although I had a difficult relationship with my mother and the rules of the coven, it had always been my home. A safe, bountiful place that I held sacred.
Now it was tainted. Poisoned. I could already feel it turning into something ugly. Wrong.
I knew I needed to do something. Something calculated. Smart. Which was hard when I was causing fires, floods, minor earthquakes and small tornados wherever I went. News storiesacross the country reported on crazy weather, blaming it on global warming. Not that it mattered, they wouldn’t do anything about it anyway. It was fortunate no mortal was killed due to my lack of control over my magick. Nature would demand a price for that.
And if the Council ever caught wind of what happened… that did not bode well for me.
I knew all of this and understood how integral it was for me to get my magick under control, yet Witch Water still poured from above me as I rode the solitary road leading toward our coven.
I cannot say why I stopped.
I knew he was there, of course. From miles back. I could feel his blood sinking into the earth, could smell him on the wind, the fire of his soul, though weakened, shone through the rain like some kind of beacon.
I was on guard, on the lookout for threats, enemies. Riding alone in the night in the midst of an internal power struggle would do that to a girl.
Not to mention the mortal threats we were facing, which were normally a vague annoyance—local law enforcement or rival clubs that didn’t like that there was an MC consisting entirely of women in a previously misogynist business—were becoming somewhat more of a problem.
Needless to say, I was paying attention, stretching my awareness to anything living in the vicinity that could be perceived as a threat.
We’d chosen the location of the coven for the precise reason that there was nothing living in the vicinity except wildlife.
Sometimes a rogue hiker would find themselves in our woods, somehow breaking through the extensive spells we’d used to protect the area. More often than not, that hiker served a purpose. They stumbled there by design. And they’d eventuallystumble out with no memory of their time with us, not missing what we’d taken from them.
But he was no hiker.
I knew that immediately, through the bitter, coppery scent of his blood mingled with a generic soap, sweat and a fragrance that was unique tohim.
My bike roared to a stop on the shoulder where I could see a dark shape slumped down in the shallow ditch that ran along the edge of the woods. It was quickly turning into a creek with this rain, the water parting for the man. Soon it would wash over him. It might kill him if he didn’t succumb to his injuries first.
They were mortal wounds. Or at least they would be without interference. Without magick.
Death lingered in these woods, waiting, watching. I could sense Him. His presence was not threatening. It was curious. Patient. This soul was not promised to him. Not yet. Death lingered on the precipice.
It was my first instinct to leave a human to die. I was not any kind of savior, not a white knight riding up to be the hero. I was a witch. The villain. History had made sure to paint us that way, and unlike some of my sisters, I was completely comfortable with that.
I would sleep easily if I let a mortal die. They did so easily. They were breakable. Fragile. Temporary. And more often than not, they deserved their fates. The universe demanded balance. Humans created famine, war, violence and poverty… They burned the earth, pillaged her natural resources and would continue to do so until there was nothing left. Until the age of humans was over.
Witches would inherit the earth.
