by Linsey Hall
“Can I help you?” she asked. “You’re not from around here.”
“No, I’m not,” Malcolm said. “What’s a demon doing selling spells and trinkets to mortals?”
“Gotta make a living. And besides, they’ll pay out the nose for this crap. I stay away from the Wicca stuff. Respect their religion and all that—I’m not a monster.”
“What do you sell?”
She shrugged. “Folks who frequent my fair establishment aren’t interested in mortal witchcraft. They just want to curse their colleagues and make people fall in love with them. So I don’t exactly feel guilty about selling them a bullshit spell and a black candle.”
“Fair enough,” Malcolm said.
“What are you?” Her green gaze darted to Sofia. “She’s a witch. What kind, I don’t know. But I can’t tell with you.”
Good. The charm was working. “Sorcerer. We’d like to find Salem Hollow.”
“Oh? Why’s that? You know we locals like to keep that on the down low. Hard to hide the street from mortals if we have all kinds of strangers coming and going.”
“We’ll be subtle. My friend here is looking for someone.”
“How do you know you’ll find them in the Hollow?”
“A hunch.”
“Hmm. Well, it’ll cost you.”
“How much?”
Her gaze ran up and down his form. “Thirty minutes in the back.”
“That’s quite the offer.”
She smiled. Before it could fade from her lips, he slipped the charmed cuff off his wrist and reached out to touch her temple, sending a burst of his magic and will into her mind that broke down her barriers.
He lowered his hand. “Do you know anything about the Salem Coven?”
In a slightly wooden voice, she said, “They live here. Not sure where. No one really knows.”
“No?”
“No. They keep to themselves. Not all witches are part of the Salem Coven, though. Only twelve. Maybe thirteen. No one is quite sure. They’re secretive.”
“Where’s Salem Hollow?”
“Off Derby Street. In front of the water. To the right of the old Custom’s House, there’s a row of shops and bars. Next to the Witch’s Brew Cafe, you’ll find an alley. There’s a gate within—looks like it leads to a basement apartment. It’s fairly well hidden. Push the gate with your right hand to enter. Mytheans will walk onto Hollow Lane. Mortals will just walk into a small empty courtyard.”
“Thank you. You’ll forget us in five minutes.” He turned to Sofia and nodded.
She led the way out of the little shop and into the brisk autumn air. The door shut behind them with a clang.
“Why didn’t you just do that to start?” she asked as they turned left and headed down to a cross street that would take them to Derby.
“I wanted to find out what kind of demon she was. Some of them are particularly resistant to mind control.”
“You can do that? Control minds?”
“It’s just another facet of destruction. I break down the barrier that keeps a person from telling me what I want to hear. One who might keep silent because it’s in her own best interest can no longer do so.”
They made their way down the shop-lined street, past old buildings and under bright-leafed trees. The autumn wind was sharp and the smell of candles burning inside jack-o-lanterns permeated the air.
“What exactly have you been doing the last four hundred years?” Sofia asked as they dodged a group of be-hatted mortals sipping coffee from paper cups.
“You’re interested?” His ego hated to admit it, but he was flattered.
“Strangely, I find that I am. But don’t worry—it might not even be interest in you. After all, I wanted to be a warlock too. Until the cost became too great.” There was bitterness in her voice.
Darkness filled his chest. She’d never forgive him for leaving her. He shook the thought away. But being without her was no longer bearable, so he would make it work. “I’ve been a mercenary. First for the money. Then to keep myself busy. I only take on work I like now.”
“Did you have any standards, or would you do any old thing? Destroy villages, perhaps? Destruction is the specialty of a warlock, after all.”
Sharp-tongued. But he liked it. Better than false sweetness bought with his gold or power. “I never destroyed any villages, no. But remember, destruction can be used to break evil magic. Dark spells. Plague. I didn’t say no to much, though. It wasn’t all good.”
“Hmmm.” Disappointment.
“I never did anything too terrible,” he said. He didn’t have much hope of her forgiving him, but he could at least try not to add to her dislike. “Mostly only to people who deserved it.” Mostly.
“Have you been happy?”
He blinked, unsure of how to respond. Had he been? “I’ve been all right.”
“I imagine the wulver half of your soul wouldn’t like the cold life of a warlock.”
No, she was right about that. Wulvers valued clan. Family. Love. But he’d been raised by his mother’s people—sorcerers who prized magic and power over all else. That part of him had been ignored. Suppressed. “That hasn’t been as easy.”
“Is it why you’ve abducted me?”
His step faltered, but he forced himself to keep going, trying to cover it up. He hadn’t expected her to figure it out. He almost hadn’t figured it out. Was it the wulver part of his soul that had demanded he bring her back to him? Or just his desire? “Perhaps.” He needed to change the subject. “What about you?”
“That’s Derby Street up there.” She pointed to a sign at the corner ahead.
“Not going to answer?”
“No.”
“It’s fair. I answered your questions.”
“Life isn’t fair, Malcolm. I know that as well as anyone.”
He couldn’t argue that point.
They stopped on the corner, looking out at the bay across the street. A glance left revealed that the old Custom’s House sat down the road. The tall, elegant building looked to be mid-seventeenth century. Perhaps earlier.
It took them only a few minutes to find the alley between the shops next to the Custom’s House. They slipped down the narrow passage. The gate sat at the end as the demon girl had said, a wrought iron affair that was rusted in places.
He put his right hand to it and glanced at Sofia. She nodded.
It swung open easily and they stepped through. A narrow street opened up before them, lined on both sides by shops and bars that looked far older than the mortal ones just outside. Mytheans had been here far longer, after all.
“Like freaking Diagon Alley,” Sofia muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing. I think we should find someone that you can talk to.”
“It’s getting dark. The pubs should be filling up. Let’s find one. We can ask around.”
“All right.”
They set off down the street. Brick and wooden buildings rose three stories high on either side, pressed cheek by jowl. Shops and bars sat on the bottom levels and Sofia guessed the apartments were on top. It was the most magical place she’d seen outside of her own village. Like a northern version of her home—Mytheans allowed to use magic in the streets and walk around freely even if they couldn’t pass for human. Outside of places like this, Mytheans were supposed to keep a low profile.
Within protected spaces, they went wild. Even more so than in her own village. A trio of fae with lavender skin and gossamer wings walked in front of them. Some sort of demon with large horns and blue skin strode down the other side of the street, his huge shoulders hung with two great swords that crossed over his back.
The chimney of a narrow wooden building to her left belched pink smoke. The brick storefront next to that was painted with ancient runes. A seer worked within, from the look of them. A black cat streaked across the cobblestone road, its fur sparkling like dark diamonds.
Kitty hissed.
“I know, Kitty. Wh
at a show-off,” Sofia said. “But if you like, I can make you a glittery purple.”
Kitty looked up thoughtfully, then shook her little head once and continued on.
Noticeably absent were magic shops, though Sofia wasn’t surprised. The Salem Coven wouldn’t be the sort to sell their magic. But otherwise, there were restaurants, clothing shops, and weapons retailers. A potions store had the most elaborate front window Sofia had ever seen. Gleaming bottles full of jewel-tone liquid lined the shelves in artful array. Smoke snaked around their bases.
There were no cars. Many Mytheans could aetherwalk, so there was no need. For others, they’d just have to make do, no doubt. Sofia couldn’t see anyone successfully driving out of the alley.
“What do you think of this place?” Malcolm stopped before a quiet storefront that sold fantastical furniture. He nodded toward a set of stairs that led down from the street and through an arch.
“The Cauldron Bar.” The sign hung above the archway. A little emblem of a witch flying on a broom was etched onto it. Only the witch was flying backward, facing the broom bristles. “The demon at the shop said that not all witches here are part of the Salem Coven. Maybe we can find some others in there who can tell us what we need to know?”
“My thoughts exactly.” Malcolm started down the stairs.
Sofia followed, marveling at the breadth of his shoulders. He moved so smoothly for such a big man. Quiet and elegant.
They reached the bottom. Kitty hissed. Sofia squinted down the narrow, stone-paved passage. The brick walls were studded with yellow gas lamps and Malcolm’s head brushed the narrow ceiling. At the far end, a wooden door beckoned.
“These witches are freaking creepy,” Sofia said.
“Stay behind me.” Malcolm started down the alleyway.
Sofia bristled. She could take care of herself, damn it. No one talked to her that way. She was the Protector of Bruxa’s Eye.
But then, if there was a hit coming, perhaps she should let him take it.
She should definitely let him take it.
Suddenly, the floor dropped out from under her. She screamed as she fell. Pain streaked through her legs as she crashed to the ground. Kitty’s smoky form floated beside her. Heart racing, she looked around. Dim light illuminated a stone-walled room. Dungeon, more like.
She glanced up to see that the ceiling above her was normal. No hole through to the street upstairs. It began to shimmer, then opened up to the street above. Malcolm jumped down into the room, landing gracefully beside her.
He leaned down to help her. “Are you all—”
The door crashed open. Malcolm surged upright and moved to stand between her and the door. She scrambled to her feet, wincing at the pain in her leg. But it was already a bit better. She drew her wand from the aether.
“What ‘ave we here?” The burly blue demon that she’d seen walking down the street entered.
Another one loomed in the doorway. This one had smaller horns but bigger muscles and deep red skin. No swords, just wicked looking knives strapped all over his body. They both had to duck to get in. They were at least a foot bigger than Malcolm. “Looks like a witch. Though I’ve no idea who this bloke is. Or how he triggered the trap. Should’ve only caught the magic one.”
Sofia glanced at the beaten metal that gleamed dully around Malcolm’s wrist. No doubt that had stopped him from triggering whatever booby trap she’d just set off and kept the demons from sensing what he was capable of.
“What the hell is this place?” he demanded.
“You was trying to enter the Cauldron,” the blue one rumbled. “That’s invite only. Everyone knows that. And you’re not invited. So now we feed you to the hounds.” He lumbered toward them.
Kitty hissed. Sofia flung out her wand hand, sending a jet of flame at them. Nothing happened. Magic fizzled at the tip of her wand.
“Ah, ah. No magic down here.”
Fuck.
She wasn’t terrible in a fight, but she sure hated getting other people’s blood on her.
Malcolm lunged for the biggest demon. He was all lethal grace. At the same time, the golden wolf burst from his chest, a shimmering apparition of snarling fangs and glowing eyes. It lunged for the other demon, going for his throat.
Like in the High Witches’ dungeon, his wulver soul wasn’t contained by the magic.
She stepped back, eyeing the fight for an opportunity to jump in and help. Kitty danced on nervous paws beside her. Not the best in a fight, that one.
Malcolm grabbed the big red demon by his collar and swung him away from Sofia, toward the other side of the room. The beast lunged out, swiping a huge fist. Malcolm ducked, then delivered a quick uppercut that slammed the demon’s head back. He plowed a fist into its gut.
He was so fast, and his wolf so savage that Sofia just leaned back against the wall and watched. They didn’t need her help.
His wolf had the blue demon on the ground and was ravaging his throat and chest. Malcolm was grappling with the red demon, a battle of wits and muscle.
The demon landed a punch to his head that had him staggering back, blood trickling from split skin at his temple. Malcolm shook himself, then charged the demon, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around so that he could reach up and break his neck.
The sound turned Sofia’s stomach, but she was grateful to see the demon slump to the ground.
Malcolm looked up at her, fury in his golden gaze. His dark hair fell over his forehead and his chest heaved.
He looked so good it almost made her head spin.
“Are you all right?” he demanded.
“Fine.”
He nodded, then glanced at his wolf. It stood guard, its front feet on the blue demon’s chest. Blood pooled around the demon’s body.
“Check the hall,” Malcolm said as he walked to where they’d fallen through the ceiling and pressed his hands against it. “It’s blocked. The spell closed it behind us.”
Sofia peered out into the dark hall. “Empty.”
“Okay. We’ll sneak out. We’re not getting into the Cauldron.” He bent over the fallen red demon and heaved him up over his back in a fireman’s carry. “We need to get these bloody bastards out of here.”
“Are they dead?” she whispered as she crept out into the hall. The golden wolf dragged the blue demon behind her. Kitty joined in to help, pulling at his shirt with her teeth. Sofia doubted it did much good, but she clearly liked the wolf.
“I don’t believe so. They heal quickly. But I need to get them somewhere that doesn’t block my magic so I can enchant them into forgetting they saw us.”
“We should go left. Leads back to the street, I think.”
He nodded and set off, his heavy burden not even bowing his back. She’d forgotten how physically strong he was. But then, wulvers usually were.
The underground passage wound around to the right. Sofia kept her wand out, though she wasn’t sure it would work. Her heart pounded in her chest as they crept along. If anyone saw them—Malcolm carrying one and his wolf dragging another—they’d be shit out of luck. She just hoped no one checked the little room and saw the blood on the floor.
They came to a set of stairs and Sofia tried not to heave a sigh of relief as they made their way up. She peeked out to see another alleyway like the one they’d been in before. Empty, thank fates.
She held the door for Malcolm and his wolf as they unceremoniously dumped their baggage on the ground. When the door shut behind her, she could no longer see it.
Malcolm tapped his chest and his wolf approached, stopping briefly to nuzzle Kitty’s head, then blended seamlessly into Malcolm’s form until he disappeared entirely. Malcolm drew the charmed cuff off his wrist and leaned down to touch the temple of each demon, no doubt destroying their memories of the encounter.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, then crouched down and grabbed each demon by a wrist. He disappeared.
A moment later, he returned. He slipped the cuff back on and wip
ed the blood from his forehead. No one would be able to tell he’d just been in a fight.
“Where’d you take them?”
“Siberia. It’ll take them a while to get sorted out. We should be gone by then.”
“Good.” She glanced around at the creepy alley. “Let’s get out of here. Find somewhere else.”
He nodded and led the way down the alley. Sofia’s shoulders relaxed a bit when they reached the main street. It was still vaguely creepy, like all of Salem, but it was far nicer than where they’d just been. Even Kitty seemed less nervous as she stalked at Sofia’s side.
Sofia rubbed the back of her neck. Were they being watched? Or was it just creepy Salem? Full dark had fallen while they’d been in the cell, and clouds drifted in front of an orange moon. The leaves rustled on the trees overhead. Dim yellow light from shop windows and gas street lamps gleamed on the cobblestones.
Most of the shops were empty now, as was the street. Everyone had holed up to get out of the cold. If she had to guess, the temperature had dropped at least ten degrees. Miserable.
“Let’s find a place that’s not quite so hidden,” Sofia said. “I don’t exactly want to run into any more demon bouncers.”
“Agreed.” He pointed up the road. “What about there?”
The road curved left and Sofia could see the gleaming windows of a pub. The Spiked Potion. It bustled with people and didn’t look to have any hulking bouncers. “All right.”
They slipped inside a moment later and she heaved a sigh of relief when warmth from the crackling fire enveloped her. The pub was large with a low ceiling. The gleaming wood bar took up the back left corner, while trestle tables jutted out from the rest of the walls.
The space was about three quarters full. No one sat alone. About half could pass in the mortal world. The other half… not so much. Besides the wings and horns, there was fur, scales, and an assortment of skin tones that fell closer to rainbow than beige or brown.
They approached the bar.