by Holly Evans
“How darling; you came to join your twin!” she said with a faint accent that I couldn’t place.
I smiled.
“Yes, just darling,” I replied.
“Do not fear, you haven’t missed the show,” she said as she stood.
The women began moving with some focus. Two gathered more candles, and another two carried a large silver bowl over to Quin’s feet. The ropes dropped. I was free. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching me; they were all too focused on other things. A brunette tenderly stroked Quin’s dark hair before she slapped him. I growled to myself but remained still. I couldn’t see any wounds on him from where I sat, but that didn’t mean much. I’d slaughter them if they’d harmed my twin. He woke with a jolt. I glanced around the room, checking that they still weren’t looking before I ran my hands down over the sheathes on my thighs; no blades. They’d had a shred of sense, then. My throwing knives were still on my forearms, though; they hadn’t bothered to look too hard. I had no doubt they felt they could depend on their magic and didn’t need to concern themselves with physical problems like knives.
I pulled my knee up to my chest and retrieved the stiletto knife there. Ten witches weren’t great odds. If I could take out the leader first, then I might stand a chance. Witches were very hierarchical creatures. If, by some miracle, the moon goddess was on my side, then they would descend into chaos if I killed the leader. Luck hadn’t done me much good so far, but I couldn’t sit there and wait for them to let Quin go.
The two youngest witches gathered up armfuls of bowls and began setting them inside the circle of candles around Quin. Small ceramic bowls in black and red were interspersed between the candles; there were a lot of bowls. I wasn’t sure my dear brother had that much blood in him. If he did, I was going to try very hard to make sure that it stayed inside him.
The women began to surround Quin, who was looking around him groggily. They all had their backs to me, but that wouldn’t last for long. I slipped a throwing knife down into my hand and stood slowly, watching for any changes. I threw my first knife into the back of a blonde’s neck. She dropped just as I threw another knife into the back of her sister. I had no idea who the leader was, but given the blonde had been the one to approach me, she seemed like a good starting point.
Chaos descended. Not in the way that I had hoped, but they were disorganised and panicked; that was something in my favour. They were bustling around Quin like hens with a fox. A blue fireball was on a collision course with my head; I ducked and ran at them, throwing knives as I did so. My aim wasn’t fantastic, but the time had come: I had to get to my twin. Standing around waiting for an opportunity was not an option available to me. Something sharp sliced my arm. A burning sensation burrowed its way into my thigh. I hadn’t seen the telltale brightly coloured magic flying at me; one of them must have been doing an incantation somewhere.[ expand]
I focused on the warm blood that coated my hand as I slit one of their throats. I looked around wildly, trying to spot the witch who was moving her hands and chanting. One of them had to be. More pain cut through my thoughts. The bitch was around there somewhere. The remaining witches were calming and beginning to think again. Two of them tried to get to Quin. They jumped, as best as they could in the full-length robes, over the mass of candles that surrounded him.
I turned my attention on them. Pain slowed me down and made my movements clumsier. They were almost on Quin when I leapt over the candles and slit the closest’s throat. I tackled the other to the ground. She thrashed beneath me. I felt her hands moving behind me as she was trying to perform some magic. My stiletto slipped from my grasp and skittered across the floor.[ Expand on sensation]
A brightly coloured curse collided with my chest, almost knocking me off the witch. They were regrouping. I punched the witch in the bridge of the nose with everything I had. Her eyes fluttered closed. A scream cut through the air; Quin coughed and called out my name. My attention snapped to him. He’d almost managed to free himself. Red paint marked his bare chest, but he seemed to be unharmed. That wasn’t going to stop me from killing the bitches. I would make an example of them.
A pair of slender hands wrapped around my throat from behind. I mule-kicked. My foot connected with something hard that crunched. The hands left. I didn’t bother to check what had happened to her. Quin stood slowly. I rushed over to him and checked him over quickly. He was ok. He was standing by himself, and his blood seemed to be on the inside.
I turned and put myself between him and the remaining witches, who insisted on throwing curses and fireballs at us. My throwing knives were in the bodies of the dead witches; I hadn’t been thinking enough to retrieve them. My stiletto was on the floor behind me. I started throwing candles. It wasn’t the best tactical decision I’d ever made, but it stopped the flow of curses for a brief moment at least.
Quin was behind me, I could feel him. He pressed the hilt of my knife into my hand just as I was preparing to throw a bowl at the largest of the witches.
“Where’s the exit?” I hissed at him.
He pointed to the door that was recessed into the wall on the far corner. Another fireball almost struck me. I ducked to the side, but was distracted when a sharp pain clawed through my wrist. I fell to the floor. Quin landed with a thud behind me. We were not going to be beaten that easily.
I pushed myself up to my knees and threw my final knife at the witch who was waving her hands. She gurgled and dropped, leaving us with one. Blood dripped down my hands, I heard it land in one of the bowls. I froze and waited for something to happen. The witch laughed at us, she threw her head back and cackled. It crackled and sounded oddly like a log fire.
Pain was clouding my thoughts; we were down to one witch, but I wasn’t sure I could defend Quin any longer. The witch’s eyes darkened; her face turned almost manic. She began throwing black shards[ describe] of something at us. I yelped and looked around for somewhere to hide. Throwing bowls wasn’t going to resolve that problem. Two shards struck home. The pain engulfed me. My chest constricted. I swallowed hard and tried to remain conscious; I was not going to lose. [ expand]
The witch stopped throwing shards at us and closed her eyes. She began moving her hands frantically while her mouth twitched. The sound of cracking, splintering wood made her falter for a second. I gasped for air and looked for the source. Quin had broken the chair; he held the legs up triumphantly. Each leg had been broken with a vicious spike on the end. He tossed one at me before he slowly circled around the witch. Even in the worst situations, he kept his head.
Her hands slowed and her words became more audible. The time for caution had passed. I half ran, half stumbled towards her while Quin approached from behind. The air was thick. It was difficult to breathe. Every movement felt like I was fighting quicksand. The closer I got, the more effort I had to put into moving my legs. My body screamed at me to stop. To allow my legs to crumple and give in to sweet darkness.
We didn’t give in. Quin seemed to be moving quicker than me. He was within a couple of feet when I put everything I had into a final lunge. We plunged the legs into her chest and back. A deafening screech filled the air. Everything went bright white before it dropped to pitch black. I collapsed to my knees and covered my head, waiting for it to be over. We were so close.
27.
The silence was almost as deafening as the scream had been. The pain was almost unbearable. Footsteps approached me; I tensed and waited for the final blow.
“Evie, it’s ok,” Quin said softly.
I opened my eyes and saw him crouched in front of me, his hair hanging half in his eyes. I threw my arms around him and hugged him tight. My twin was ok. My infuriating Quin was ok. I’d done it.
“Don’t do that to me!” I said, tears streamed down my face.
“Can’t breathe, sis,” he choked out.
I pulled back, keeping a firm hold on his upper arms. “Are you ok? What did they do?”
I searched his face for any signs
of trauma or injury.
He gave a little shrug and smile. “I lived in the lap of luxury, they fed me three-course meals, I slept in the comfiest bed I’ve ever had. It was all great until this morning when they started talking about draining my blood,” he said.
I went to hug him again, but he held me back. “I missed you, but I like breathing.”
I brushed away my tears and laughed.
“Only you would get kidnapped and treated like royalty,” I said.
He grinned at me. “What can I say, it’s a gift.”
It was a few minutes before my legs would accept my weight. I felt weak, but it didn’t matter: Quin was back. My injuries would heal. He helped me limp out of the building and head home. I poked him in the ribs.
“Don’t do that to me again, I don’t want you thinking that getting kidnapped is some holiday or something,” I said sternly.
He laughed.
“Don’t worry, Evie, I know you couldn’t survive without me,” he said.
I chewed on my bottom lip and looked away. He squeezed me close to me him.
“I’d be lost without you, too,” he said softly.
“So er… I cut a deal with Kadrix, that elf alchemist you hang out with…” I said.
His step faltered for a second.
“Oh?” he said.
“Yea. He helped me out in return for a kiss. From you,” I said.
He tensed. I looked at him to find him bright red.
“Sorry?” I said.
He took a deep breath and relaxed with a soft laugh. “You do know how to cause trouble, Evie.”
If you’d like to read more Urban Fantasy by me then you can check out Infernal Bonds (Infernal Hunt 2) on Amazon.
I have two more series both set in a magic-packed world.
If tattoo magicians are your thing, check out Stolen Ink.
If you’d rather a treasure-hunting alchemist, grab Seers Stone.
Infernal Hunt 2.
Not only is it a blood moon, but there’s a rare celestial alignment that means the veils between the worlds are much more fragile than usual. That allows chaos to reign over the city for one night. Shades play pranks on tourists, redcaps take advantage and run wild, and two sinfully sexy hellhounds slip through.
The redcaps are easily wrangled, the shades are mildly amusing, but the hellhounds are another thing entirely. They evade capture and remain in the city once the moon sets. Two hounds, with two entirely different agendas. One wants freedom. The other wants to bring about Hell on Earth. And he has help.
Hunters had come from all over the country for the blood moon. Prague was an old and powerful city; there was a great deal of magic within its boundaries, and that made blood moons interesting to say the least. Even more so given that the planets were in an unusual alignment, making everything more potent than it had been in a century. Some of the hunters were there to make a profit from their kills, others just wanted to keep the innocent humans safe. Us? Prague was our home, we had to keep it safe… but we did still have bills to pay.
We’d gathered with other hunters to split the city up into zones to stop arguments over bounties and profits. Quin and I were covering Old Town Square, where we stood facing down a small collection of blood-thirsty redcaps. The drunk tourists they’d been stalking had slipped away to safety, but the redcaps had crossed the line and killed three humans that night. They had to be put down; of course, if I had my way, redcaps would be wiped out of existence. They were vile creatures who served no real purpose; the only use for them was as parts that we sold to alchemists for reasonable money.
The leader, Red, although all redcaps are called Red, glared at us. They’d even put on shoddily made red hats for the night, for tradition’s sake I assumed. The caps started the evening out white, but the redcaps had dipped them in the blood of their victims, turning them red. They truly were vile creatures, and it wasn’t very easy to tell them apart in the semi-darkness. They all had slightly yellowed skin, yellow pointed teeth, and filthy long nails that had started to curl. The leader had blood drying around his mouth (which was currently twisted into a snarling grin) and a missing ear. It turned out that one of the tourists from before we’d arrived was quite feisty and put up a good fight; it was a shame they got overwhelmed and lost in the end.
I glanced to Quin, who had his pouch of iron filings in his hand; he gave me a small nod and we pushed forward. Iron is poisonous to fae, which given how difficult they are to kill without it, is useful to know. I’d coated my blades in iron filings; they clung to the blade by the thick viscous blood of Red’s brothers, who were heaped up against the old stone wall of the tower. The leader lunged forwards at Quin, who laughed heartily and threw the filings in the creature’s face. The smallest of the group slashed at me with his twisted nails; I blocked the clumsy attack with my forearm and plunged my blade into his stomach. He screamed, an animalistic blood-curdling sound that echoed around the square.
I dragged the blade down and pulled it back as Quin took the legs out from under the leader with a heavy kick to the back of the knees. The leader’s knees crumpled under the impact, forcing him to land in a kneeling position. The final redcap was desperate. He screamed and ran at me with his fingers extended. He feinted to the left; I didn’t move quickly enough and felt those cursed claws cut through my jeans and sink into my thigh. I refused to give him the satisfaction of screaming. Instead, I hacked at his bicep, causing him to leap back.
Quin punched him in the temple; that made him stumble before Quin slit his throat.
“Really, sis, you shouldn’t play with them like that.”
He flashed me a roguish grin. Blood covered my jeans, and the pain cut through my thoughts. It wasn’t the only injury I’d incurred that night, but the sun was rising, the night was over, and we had enough bounty to live well for a few months. We set about gathering as much blood from the redcaps as we could into the vials and jars that we had on us. We stripped out their teeth, hair, and claws. The alchemists would pay us a small fortune for everything we’d managed to gather. The bodies disintegrated and left nothing more than small black puddles after some half an hour. The fluid would evaporate, leaving no trace of the night by the time the tourists got up. I’d never understood what caused fae to vanish like that, but it made my life easier.
We pulled on our backpacks full of clinking glassware with various disgusting odds and ends that the alchemists would coo and grin over. My thigh was hurting more than I wanted to admit; I couldn’t help but limp a little.
Quin flashed me another grin. “Don’t worry, Ev, I’ll fix you up like new.”
I squeezed his shoulder and couldn’t help but grin back at him; his enthusiasm was contagious.
“It was a good night, worth a little pain.”
I wasn’t keen on his dabbling in alchemy, but he used it to help keep us safe and kick creatures’ asses, so I couldn’t complain too much.
My body ached. Our backpacks full of varying body parts and fluids sat near the front door; the alchemists could wait. I didn’t want to walk into his lair in my injured and exhausted state. He hadn’t done us any harm yet, but the fact remained that they were creatures of magic, supernals, and thus not to be trusted. I peeled my jeans off and threw them onto the heap of bloody clothes that Quin had already amassed. We’d soon have enough money to replace our entire wardrobes and live well for a few months. The ruined clothes still irked me, though. I stood in front of the full length mirror standing between our bedroom doors and inspected the night’s injuries.
There were four relatively deep holes in my upper thigh, thanks to the final redcap. Claw marks ran down my lower ribs; a lycan had gone rogue and had to be put down. Teeth marks sat around my left wrist where a particularly savage nymph had tried to chew my hand off. I hadn’t known anything like it, the planets really had made them all insane. It had been a long time since we’d encountered quite so much chaos in a single night. Quin danced around behind me, humming to himself as he
mixed various powders; he loved playing with alchemy. I’d rather that neither of us had anything to do with magic, but I couldn’t deny that it had its uses. That didn’t make me any more comfortable with the concept of magic; it was too easy to abuse.
I left him to his gleeful mixing and had a quick shower to wash off the worst of the blood and filth. Exhaustion sat in my very bones as I closed my eyes and allowed the steam to build around me. No matter how much I scrubbed, I couldn’t remove the feeling of being defiled by the redcap’s claws. The images of their twisted dirt-caked visage kept forming into my mind. I pushed it away and dried myself off, pulling on a pair of shorts and a strap top. Quin and I were used to being almost naked around each other; we’d lived together our entire lives and had to patch up more injuries than I cared to remember. Any weirdness that may have been there had long since evaporated.
I walked into the living room to see him leap back before a ball of neon pink fire leapt up from the bowl in front of him. He threw some green powder on it, causing it to disperse into a shimmering silver mist. He poked at the remnants of the bowl once more, before he yelped as it set on fire once more.
“Please don’t tell me that’s the healing paste you plan on putting on me,” I said.
He flashed me a large grin. “I’ve almost finished perfecting it!”
The bowl cracked. Dark blue gloop with golden stripes began spreading across the kitchen counter, the same kitchen counter where we made our food. He scooped the gloop into a fresh bowl and did a little dance.
“It didn’t go quite as I envisioned, but I have absolute faith that it will be superior to my previous attempt,” he said.