Vengeance

by Carrie Whitethorne

  Not bothering to check the road for anything suspicious, I turned on my heel and followed after the guys. If I was lucky, I’d at least get a cup of tea before all hell broke loose.

  “So, British and living alone in the wilds,” Jefferson mused, as I came to a stop at the booth. “Tell me about that.”

  “I am,” I obliged, taking the seat opposite him so I could watch the door. “Came here when I was a teen, and lived in a quiet little house in the middle of a forest. When I was nineteen my mother died, and I decided it was time I traveled a bit. I got the opportunity to visit all kinds of amazing places, but for some reason, I always came back. I’m thinking now might be a good time to move on again, for a while at least.”

  “How do you plan to travel with things as they are?” Naylor inquired, before taking a large gulp of his coffee.

  Rather than answer, I lowered my voice, and ordered, “Shut up.”

  “Hey, no need to—” Naylor protested.

  With no time to explain I waved my hand and his mouth sealed shut. “I said shut up.”

  “What’s wrong, Honey?” Jefferson questioned without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

  I tilted my head to the two guys who’d just walked in and were taking a seat at a booth near the door.

  “Calm down. She’ll give you your voice back,” Jefferson rumbled, as the soldier at his side slapped the table. “Let her explain.”

  “Don’t count on it,” I hissed, giving the now mute guard a hard look. “He talks too damn much. We need to leave. Go to the bathroom, I’ll follow you.”

  “Negative,” Jefferson countered with a low growl. “We ain’t leaving you here alone.”

  “If you want to get out of here alive, you’re going to have to,” I whispered, leaning forward.

  Before any of them could respond, I pointed toward the sign for the bathrooms and slid out from the booth without a backward glance.

  I made no detours, walking straight to the counter with confidence, and rang the bell.

  “You forget somethin’, doll?” the waitress asked with a raised brow, and positioned her pen over her notepad.

  “No,” I replied flatly. “We’ve just had an urgent call, family emergency, and we need to leave immediately. Please, don’t cancel our order, give it to the two gentlemen who just walked in, this should cover it.” I placed fifty dollars on the counter, ignoring the way her eyes widened, and walked back the way I’d come.

  Noting the newcomers had taken a booth two down from where we’d sat, I didn’t hesitate when they looked right at me as I approached. Instead, I smiled before turning off to the bathroom.

  The waitress was right behind me, sidling up to their booth just as I moved out of their view.

  “We don’t have long,” I stated, as I pushed them into the nearest stall and turned the flimsy lock on the door behind me.

  “What the hell—” Cox demanded, but I cut him off.

  “The two cops who just walked in? Not cops,” I explained.

  Jefferson thought for a moment then raised his eyebrows. “And the bus driver?”

  I held up a finger. “Under mind control. No time for questions. He tipped them off.”

  He took the hint and glanced to Naylor, who was still magically gagged.

  “Since we’ve ascertained I can handle myself, I’m going to get you out of here, then I’m going to handle those guys,” I explained, as I reached into my hair. “If I don’t come through the gate after… ten minutes, there’s a bowl of salt on the kitchen table. Throw that inside the gate and it will close. You’ll be safe there for a couple of days, but make sure you move on after three or four,” I rattled off while drawing on a stall wall before turning to Naylor. “You first.”

  With a click of my fingers, the wax ignited, burning the spell into life, and the gate burst open.

  Usually I loved the effect, there was a flamboyance to the belch of flame as the portal opened to its full extent that really identified the route. That thing led through hell. The distinct whiff of sulfur was fitting, if off-putting, but the pièce de résistance was the eerie green glow at the edge of the gate where the two worlds merged.

  I looked at the three guys with a triumphant grin. “Okay, go.”

  Naylor looked wary.

  With a roll of my eyes, I removed the gag charm sealing his mouth shut and said flatly, “If I wanted to do you harm, then I’d have done it when I was your prisoner, don’t you think? And you’ve used these before.”

  He swallowed thickly, his eyes widening. “They didn’t look like this.”

  Okay, fair enough. The ones I’d used with them on post were to move us through a few inches of manmade materials that crumbled with the force. This was entirely different. This was a portal—a wormhole, I suppose—but instead of passing through galaxies, this passed into the Otherworld and back out into this one.

  It sounded worse than it was. Shit, it looked worse than it was with the hellfire and smoke and crap, but he wasn’t brand new to this.

  Unsurprisingly, it was Jefferson who stepped up. “You sure you’re okay here?”

  “Absolutely.” I pointed over my shoulder with my thumb. “I’ll wait out there until the three of you are gone. Remember, if I don’t come through, don’t hesitate to close it. And don’t touch anything but the salt until I come back…”

  They were forced to squeeze down the sides of the toilet bowl to give me enough room, and I unlocked the door and stepped out, letting the stall door slam shut behind me.

  Two dragonkin in the diner meant there were many more stationed outside. I needed to be quick in my handling of them before it alerted the others.

  The candle was down to a useless stump, but I couldn’t risk discarding it. Instead, I moved to the sink, ran the faucet, and stuck my mouth under the flowing water to catch a generous mouthful.

  The bathroom door burst open as I tipped back my head, popped the butt of the candle into my mouth, and swallowed.

  In an act of defiance, I took a moment too long to wipe my mouth with the back of my hand before glancing to the left.

  “Come in.”

  They’d dropped some of their human disguises, allowing their true appearance to become visible. I’d have preferred for them not to.

  What remained of their human skin and many of the small, hardened scales that protected their foreheads and cheeks were half peeled from their faces. Their sharp teeth looked as though they needed a good scrub, and their eyes weren’t as glossy as I was used to seeing. One thing was clear, however—this pair far outranked my earlier pursuers.

  Turning away from the mirror, I walked toward them with a squint in their direction.

  “Shit…” I breathed, drawing to a halt a foot or so away and bending slightly to study the face of the guy on my right. “What happened to your face? You look like someone fucked a bowl of porridge.”

  His jaw tensed. “Don’t give us trouble, Bishop. Where are the humans?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, reaching out to scratch at a loose scale. As I expected, he slapped my hand away, exposing more flaking scales on his wrist. “But I have a question. What the fuck are you playing at?”

  His eyes narrowed. “The objective changed.”

  That was the best bullshit answer I’d ever been given. “Clearly,” I scoffed, stepping back. “I told you to let me handle it, and you chose not to listen. I’m out. Leave me the fuck alone.”

  “The boss wants to see you.”

  Oh, I bet he does. “Your boss can piss off. I don’t answer to him anymore. We had an agreement and he fucked me over. I’m done.”

  “You don’t say when you’re done,” the spare growled. His voice was raspy, like he was on the wrong side of a forty-a-day habit. The brown stains on his teeth alluded to the same, but I knew what they really were.

  I’d rather not think about who they were from.

  “I had that shit under control until you dropped a ton of explosives
on the place,” I spat back, my temper fraying.

  I felt the telltale swish of the beast’s tail inside me and knew it wouldn’t be long before Alva was clawing at my insides to get loose.

  “The boss—”

  “Fuck your boss. Take another step, and I’ll fuck you up. You have no idea what you’re messing with here.”

  My hands suddenly transformed into claws in answer to my rage, and I fought to conceal them until he snarled, “Witches are no match for us.”

  I didn’t mind a certain amount of bravado. In fact, I expected it, particularly from anyone working directly for the Assembly, but the prick was pinching my last nerve and I was rapidly losing the fight to stop the beast’s desire to have her way with him.

  Rather than hide my now taloned fingers, I smirked as I raised my arms and ran my palms over my bottle purple hair. “Really. You think your boss would trust the job to an ordinary kitchen witch?”

  The room darkened considerably as the shadow of large wings formed on the white tile wall behind the two dragonkin agents.

  It felt good being free. To finally allow myself to take the form that felt most natural to me. It hadn’t always been that way, and I never would have known if I hadn’t recreated one of the rituals my mother had hidden inside her potions grimoire. I found it purely by accident. I expected she thought it would never be deciphered amid the clumsily scrawled instructions for an indigestion tonic.

  The first time my wings formed was absolutely terrifying. The way my body changed, and the stretching sensation in my skin as it moved to accommodate the additional limbs was almost painful. But now, after years of practice, I’d grown to love the freedom and power the manifestation provided me.

  This was, however, the first time I’d allowed myself to be seen in my true form here among piteous mortals.

  Their reactions were instantaneous and oh so delicious.

  As one, they took involuntary steps back, their bodies connecting with the wall in a dull thud. I merely stood there, not advancing toward them, and cocked my head to watch them for a moment as I relished their panic.

  The louder one of the two took the initiative and made to change his form in response, but it was no good, the shock had rendered him impotent for the time being.

  His counterpart fared no better, and with them both temporarily inert, I took full advantage.

  Their eyes widened, watching the slow movement of my tail as I raised it up and over my right shoulder, and they visibly paled when they registered the cruel barbs on the tip.

  The loud one was the first to gather his senses, reaching for his hip. “Step away, Bish—”

  He should have kept his mouth closed.

  He certainly shouldn’t have reached for a firearm.

  My reaction was swift and brutal. My demon side lashed out at the threat. The barb forming the end of my tail pierced the back of his throat, and with little more effort than splaying my fingers, the two outer barbs extended inside his skull.

  The first time I let my demon side free, I’d inspected my tail and had expected the barbs to be solid, not feeling, but the opposite was true. I felt every glorious sensation as they sliced through his brain and perforated his crown a second before his head exploded.

  A dragonkin’s skull is tough, but not tough enough to stop the hardened tips of a demon’s tail. I watched on, satisfied as the scent of blood became stronger within the confines of the small bathroom, and bits of bone and brain sprayed all over the walls, floor, and ceiling.

  Before his partner could come to his senses, I reached for his throat, my now elongated talons closing in a vise-like grip.

  His mouth moved, but no sound came out.

  “Sorry?” I queried, lessening the pressure of my digits only slightly.

  “Th—Ffff—won’t.”

  “Oh, fuck off,” I snapped, in no mood for threats. They’d find me? I won’t get away with this? With a small flex of my fingers and a twist of my wrist, his jugular was severed and his neck broke.

  I dropped his lifeless body immediately, then withdrew my tail from what was left of his partner’s face, letting them both crumple to the floor with the second guy’s blood pooling beneath them.

  The more human side of me—and witches were human for the most part—recoiled at the sickening sound of the barbs flicking the blood and bits of tissue caught within them, but the demon in me was elated at the bloodshed.

  Spending most of my time keeping my demonic self under wraps made it all the more difficult to put her away, but I couldn’t risk detection. Not now. Not when I’d spent years building my control after first discovering my true self, preparing for the day I’d face those who hadn’t answered for their crimes. I wasn’t prepared to risk it all now just because the bitch wanted to play.

  Chapter 6

  Sorrel

  “Honey, you okay?” Jefferson asked, as I tossed a handful of salt at the portal in my small living room.

  I startled as the thing faded, the doorway I’d opened folding in on itself, closing tightly. Evidence of the magic would remain at the other end, but that wasn’t a concern now.

  The three human men in my living room, however…

  I’d forgotten for a moment they were there, and it was an effort to keep my other self, still only barely tucked away, concealed.

  Jefferson was sitting on my couch, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, with Cox sitting at the other end, watching me intently.

  Naylor was missing, and I glanced behind me to see him leaning against the fireplace.

  It took me a second, but I pushed her further down, keeping her hidden, and flashed him a grin. “Fine, thanks. You guys must be hungry. Let me fix you some breakfast.”

  “Don’t go to any trouble for us,” Jefferson interjected. “We can hunt for something.”

  I shook my head. “Not here you won’t. I keep hens around the back, they should have something for us.” Glancing back to Naylor, I added, “Suppose you can control your mouth?”

  He dipped his head.

  “Yes,” he mumbled, before opening his mouth wide to stretch his jaw. “What happened to the first rule—do no harm?”

  It was an effort not to roll my eyes. “I’m a witch, not a doctor. But if you mean the rede, that’s more of a guideline. A code if you like. The white witches are more altruistic among my kind. The ones who practice black magic aren’t.”

  “Now she’s a goddamn pirate,” he grumbled, heading for the couch and plonking himself between Cox and Jefferson.

  “And what type of witch are you?” Cox queried, a challenge in his voice.

  I narrowed my eyes. That was an odd question from someone with apparently no knowledge of the magical communities. “I’m a hedge witch. A gray witch. I walk the line between the two worlds and bend the rules to suit myself,” I answered, watching him for a reaction.

  When I received none, I continued, “Everything I do is to serve myself. Not having to worry about other people leaves me free to broaden my horizons.”

  “Is that a fact?” Jefferson questioned, raising a brow.

  Cox smirked and I turned for the door. “I’ll retrieve breakfast before one of you pushes your luck.”

  The footsteps behind me suggested one of them was following, so I picked up a bag of grain and stepped outside without a backwards glance.

  The forest surrounding the perimeter of my home was quiet, and I took a second to breathe in the clean, dewy air. The canopy of trees kept the atmosphere cool, and the sunlight breaking through the leafy boughs above provided soft light to see by.

  I left the door open and continued around the back, hearing their soft clucks before I turned the corner. The girls rushed to greet me. “Good morning, ladies. Have you any eggs?”

  The hens gathered around my feet and I scattered the grain for them to help themselves.

  With them busy, I opened the lid of the laying box and smiled before closing it and crouching, a handful of corn kernels appearing in my hand. Th
e larger of the hens looked up first, and when she approached and began to peck at my palm, the others followed. “A small payment for your hard work. Thank you very much.”

  “You’re thanking them for laying eggs?”

  So Cox had been the one to follow. I didn’t bother to ask why, but glanced up at him and frowned. “Of course. We should always give thanks for the things we take.”

  He gave a derisive sniff. “You thank those guys when you took their lives?”

  “They were dragon shifters. And yes, I did,” I lied. I wouldn’t thank a dragonkin if it gave me its last breath. “They weren’t full power though. I don’t know what’s going on with them, but they looked sick. It was a kindness to put them down.”

  “They looked like regular guys.”

  “Color my hair brown, dress me in skinny jeans and a sweater, and I look like a regular person, too.”

  “Nothin’ regular about you,” he shot back.

  I smirked and returned my attention to the laying box, reaching to the hook on the side that held my basket. “Enough eggs here for an omelet each. Let’s get inside.”

  Cox stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the side of the house. “Where are we, anyway?”

  “Ohio,” I divulged, remaining where I was. “When my mother and I first arrived from England, we moved around a lot. My mother finally decided on Ohio because the forests are similar to those back home.”

  “What brought you here?”

  “The same thing that brings everyone to the land of the free,” I replied, not entirely sure where he was going with his line of questioning. “I was looking for something.”

  He straightened and pulled his hands from his pockets. “Did you find it?”

  “I found something,” I hedged, starting to move toward the front of the house. “Can’t say I particularly like it.”

  He ceased his questions and followed.

  We stepped back inside to find Naylor in a heated discussion with Jefferson.

  “It’s all beyond me,” Naylor snapped, as he threw his arms in the air.

  “That ain’t hard, Naylor,” Cox retorted.