by Holly Evans
Kane put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed as he looked into my eyes.
“Wren, get a grip. You’re stronger than this,” he said.
I frowned, and then the panic set in. What if the rise in my magic to meet Dante’s wonderful blood was enough for him to realise what I was? I pushed my magic down deep within myself and frowned as the euphoria went with it. Still the desire to taste his blood lingered, but it was bearable.
Dante frowned at me.
“I’m only half demon. My coven is quite sure that my blood is safe. I wouldn’t have put her in harm’s way,” he said softly, small creases at the corners of his eyes showing his concern.
Kane took the cloth from my hand and brusquely finished cleaning Dante’s wound before he plastered it in a silvery-grey paste.
“There, your own healing will do the rest,” Kane said as he kept himself between me and Dante.
“Your bedside manner needs work,” Dante said coolly. “I’ll pick you up 1pm tomorrow, Wren,” Dante said before he walked out.
I poked Kane in the chest. “Was that necessary?”
“You know who and what he is.”
I sighed, the exhaustion washing over me. I loved Kane, probably more than I was willing to admit, but I didn’t have it in me to get into that argument. He’d never been jealous before, but I’d never really shown any interest in a guy before. Was that what I was doing with Dante? He was gorgeous to look at, but he was also a domineering arrogant dick. I sighed and went to the bathroom to change into my sleepwear. Hopefully the new day would be brighter.
Kane gently shook me to wake me up. I pulled my pillow over my head and groaned.
“You need to eat and pack, ready for your flight,” he said.
“You can go for me,” I said.
He laughed.
“You’re the kick-ass merc, I’m just some lowly witch.”
I pulled the pillow off my head to glare at him.
“Don’t give me that ‘some’ shit, you’re incredibly talented and I’m proud of you,” I said.
His eyes sparked with pride and happiness.
“Dante might be an asshole, but this is your big chance. You don’t want to ruin it by missing your flight.”
I wondered if Dante wasn’t as bad as I’d initially assumed. There had been some moments last night when he’d seemed almost gentle. The craving for his blood was still there in the back of my mind. I didn’t dare tell Kane about it. He’d only tell me to cancel the job and flee the country. It was nothing I couldn’t handle.
“Where are you staying in Dubrovnik?” Kane asked as he tossed my bags from Silk and Thread onto the bed.
“Some apartment in the Old City,” I said as I went looking for suitable underwear.
Would it be ridiculous to pack my nice lacy panties? They weren’t exactly practical, but I did feel really good when I wore them. I threw them into my backpack along with the more practical underwear before I picked out my favourite jeans and shirt from the new Silk and Thread clothes. The rest of the new clothes went into the backpack along with my daggers - I’d splurged on the pair that had been spelled so they’d go through airport security without any problems. They’d cost an eyewatering amount a few years ago, but they’d remained sharp and never given me any trouble in security.
Kane was still in nothing but his boxers when I emerged almost fully dressed. I didn’t like wearing my boots in the flat if I didn’t have to. That led to more cleaning, and I’d rather do less cleaning.
“So, what’s this witch business in Dubrovnik?” I asked as I reached around him to get a bowl for some cereal.
He shifted his weight so that my upper body was pressed against him for a brief moment. I heard the trill run through his bloodsong and felt the blush forming on my cheeks.
“There are some suppliers there I want to talk to about my new paints,” he said.
The look of faux innocence on his face didn’t fool me for a moment. He was fighting to keep the smile from his lips as he ate his cereal.
“Is that so? And you’re entirely sure you’re not going just to watch over me and Dante…?”
“Dubrovnik is an incredible city full of talented witches and herbalists.”
I took a mouthful of my cereal and dropped the subject. I really didn’t want to fight with him, and the gods knew I was happy to have him close on hand just in case something did go wrong. When something went wrong, as it was inevitable that something would in fact go very wrong.
NINETEEN
Dante arrived exactly on time in a rather bland black car. I supposed he didn’t want to risk leaving the flashy sportscar in the long-stay parking at the airport. He had returned to his normal self with the infuriating smirk on his face and the smooth confident gait that didn’t show any sign of injury.
“The flight isn’t long. I’ve dug up some more information on the area and potential contacts.”
“Good afternoon, nice to see you, too. I’m glad that your injury’s healed well,” I said with a smirk.
“Good afternoon, Wren, you struck me as the type to get very snarky if I tried to make small talk. Anyway, I wouldn’t want to upset Kane further by daring be friendly.”
I sighed.
“Kane’s just a bit protective. He’s all I have in the world.”
Dante frowned and glanced over at me.
“No family?”
“No,” I said more sharply than I intended.
I looked out the window and watched the cream buildings with the multitude of angels go by. The bright red trams raced down their tracks as though they were in a desperate hurry to be somewhere, only to have the traffic lights stop them dead. A small stretch of grass with three benches sat between the main road and the smaller residential road. I didn’t know who on Earth would want to sit there; there was nothing relaxing about sitting watching the swathes of traffic pass you by. Everyone was in a hurry to who knew where.
“I have very few people in my life either. My heritage makes it difficult,” Dante said as the traffic lights turned green again.
I frowned and placed my hand on his as it sat on the gearstick. It was a natural gesture, something I would have done had it have been Kane.
“I’m sorry. I assumed that your heritage made your life easy,” I said, feeling guilty.
He snorted.
“Yes and no. I have amassed a great deal of wealth, but there are many so-called friends who would do whatever they felt necessary to get their hands on said wealth. There are very few people I can trust. You’re the first person who’s treated me like a normal guy in a long time. It’s refreshing. I enjoy your fire.”
I laughed.
“No one has ever said I’m refreshing before.”
He smiled at me, a bright and genuine smile that made his eyes spark.
I looked away for fear of making a fool of myself and becoming a lost puppy in his gaze.
“So, who are these contacts in Dubrovnik?”
His bloodsong was calmer, easier to ignore that afternoon. I didn’t know if he was controlling it or if I was getting better at shutting it all out. Something had meant that I couldn’t hear his song at all when I first walked into that Council room.
“We’ll start with a hedgewitch, as they are usually gossip mills and know something about everything. Then, we’ll need to speak to the missing people’s families; perhaps they can give us something the files have missed.”
That sounded simple enough. I didn’t have many dealings with hedgewitches. Having grown up around Kane and his coven, I didn’t really have a need to go to hedgewitches. They were solitary witches who lacked traditional magic and had often turned their back on the Crone. The Crone was the goddess of the witches, and she was said to be a particularly fickle and difficult goddess to deal with. Where coven witches had magic that ranged from elemental, such as fire or ice, to plants, life, and more, depending on their bloodlines, hedgewitches were somewhere between herbalists and alchemists. They dealt with sma
ller magic: enchanted stones, small visions of the future, temporary sigils, and the like.
Most people dismissed hedgewitches as the Crone’s cast-offs. They hid in plain sight and were the first port of call when you needed to find out something about a supernal group, particularly coven witches. The ones I’d met took a great deal of glee in handing over information on coven witches, not that I could blame them, given the poor way they were treated.
“How long have the people been missing?” I asked, hoping that was a reasonable question.
I had no idea if it was normal to look into missing person cases, the closest I usually got was trying to figure out which tree a nymph had stashed an unsuspecting runner in.
“Three days, including today. The priests and priestesses are all asking around to see if there’s a god involved with the cult in the area, as they could have been taken for ritual killings. There was a bad case of born wolf shifters being taken for ritual sacrifices to the shadow god a couple of months ago.”
I was horrified. The gods hadn’t much appealed to me; I was aware they existed, but I hadn’t felt as though any of them had chosen me. The idea of taking innocent lives and killing them in what must have been a brutal fashion… Kane had told me about some of the larger rituals that involved blood, including the making rituals. They were extremely painful for the participants, a truly awful way to die.
“There will always be extremes, Wren, it’s our job to stop them and to help keep the balance,” he said gently.
TWENTY
Dubrovnik was beautiful in a stark and rocky way that I loved. I’d grown up in the wilds of the Scottish Highlands surrounded by greenery and mountains, but Croatia was the complete opposite of that. I watched the cream and white landscape pass us by as Dante drove us down to Dubrovnik proper. The steep inclines on either side of the road were covered in short hardy grasses with frequent almost-white lumps of stone protruding out. There was a feeling of joyful wildness about the place, and it brought a grin to my face. As we started down the long and steep roads towards the city proper, I looked out over the stunning ocean with small islands dotted not too far out. I’d missed being near the ocean in Prague. I hadn’t realised just how much I loved being near the great expanse of salt water.
“Is this your first time here?” Dante askesd.
“Yes. I’ve wandered around Europe, but I’ve never had reason to come to Croatia,” I said.
“It is one of my favourite places in the world. I have some good memories here.”
The city itself was a study in pale cream with dark green vines and hardy plants climbing up some of the smooth tall walls that blocked my view. I was itching to get out and look around. Something about the place called to me and made me feel so much more alive.
“No cars in the Old City,” Dante said as he parked in the last space on the road outside of the city walls.
A number of handsome guys in nothing but board shorts were handing out pamphlets selling kayaking trips out to the islands and such. I took one to be polite and wished that we’d be there long enough to enjoy something like that. That was the downside to the ‘mercenary’ thing. I travelled to wonderful places, only to have to work the entire time. Dante wrapped his arm around my waist and guided me through the throngs of people into the walled city. The floors were smooth cream stone that spoke of many decades of use. I wanted to pause and look at the details of everything, of the grand archway that led into the city proper. Then, we turned a corner, and we were there, on the main street of the old town.
It was wide and full of tourists pausing to look in the souvenir shops and lounging out in front of the cafes and bars enjoying the beautiful, warm sunny day. I envied them. At the far end was a courtyard-type area with many tables and umbrellas gathered together where a musician was setting up to begin playing. Dante led me down the second turning on the left, which took us into the shade of a narrow alley with a large number of stairs to climb. The shops and pubs were set back into the buildings that sprawled above us. People sat on the shallow stairs laughing and talking as we walked past them. We were most of the way to the top of the very long staircase when Dante pulled out a key and opened the simple blue door to our right.
“Welcome to your temporary home,” he said with a smile.
The interior was a slightly darker cream than the outside had been, but it was simple and stylish, as I’d come to expect from Dante. The floors were smooth cool tile with white-washed walls and shuttered windows. There wasn’t much furniture: a sofa with a bamboo frame and a large table that would be perfect for spreading the paperwork out over. The kitchen was small, but still twice as large as my sad excuse for a kitchenette at home. Then, I wandered upstairs to find my bedroom. The bathroom sat between the two bedrooms, both of which were spacious, cool, and simple. It was perfect. I dropped my backpack on the bed of the bedroom at the back of the building and turned around to see Dante leaning on the doorframe.
“Is it to your tastes?”
I restrained my urge to grin. I didn’t remember the last time I’d stayed somewhere so nice.
“It’ll do,” I said with a smirk.
“We’ll go and visit the hedgewitch first, then I’ll take you to dinner. We can start the investigation proper in the morning.”
A thrill ran through me at the dinner part. It was ridiculous, but I couldn’t help myself. My phone buzzed with a text from Kane. He’d be landing in a couple of hours. His accommodation was ten minutes’ walk outside of the Old City, so close enough, should I need him.
Dante had tensed. “Kane, I assume.”
“He just got on his plane. He’ll be here in a few hours.”
“I trust he can make his own dinner plans.”
“He’s a big boy, I’m sure he’ll manage.”
Dante relaxed some and pushed off from the doorway. “Then, if you’re ready, we’ll go and speak to the hedgewitch.”
“Sounds good,” I said, feeling like a spare wheel. I had no clue what I was supposed to ask.
I left my backpack in the bedroom and tucked my daggers in sheaths on my thighs. They had been bespelled with invisibility so they wouldn’t alarm people. Of course, if they saw me pull the daggers from thin air, they’d be rather alarmed, but that was a concern for another time.
TWENTY-ONE
The hedgewitch had a small shop in the outskirts of the old town. The small stone building faced the outer boundary wall, which had small archer’s loopholes that I could glimpse the sea through. A multitude of flowers grew in ceramic pots outside of her shop, and delicate deep purple vines grew in a perfectly symmetrical archway around her open doorway. The window looking into the shop itself was small and dark, but I could smell the rich floral scents. Her bloodsong was a quiet whispering tune that sang of loss and dying hope.
Dante stepped down into the cool shop, which was packed to the brim with dried plants, small bottles of powders, and liquids that I didn’t dare touch. None of it was labelled, at least not that I could see. The shelves lining the walls were all white-washed what looked like driftwood from the odd curves and slight twists. It gave everything a very natural feel. When I looked closely, I could see there was a logic to the chaos, but I would still have been entirely lost if someone had asked me to retrieve something in particular.
“We’ve been expecting you,” a reedy feminine voice said from the back of the shop.
“Yes, we’re from the Council. We arranged a meeting,” Dante said as he shifted his weight to protect me from the witch.
I stepped around him and smiled broadly at the willowy woman with pale brown hair and deep blue-grey eyes that spoke of deep sadness. I didn’t need Dante to protect me, especially not from a harmless hedgewitch.
The witch’s mouth split into a sharp-toothed grin, and her eyes took on a rust colour. There went that ‘harmless hedgewitch’ theory. Her bloodsong became a deep thrumming beat as the rust colour spread through her eyes. I watched in fascination as thorn-like claws grew from her f
ingertips and her skin took on a deep greenish-gold colour. Dante, on the other hand, stepped forward and looked around for other enemies. I couldn’t hear any other bloodsongs. It was just us and her, and I wanted to know what had happened to her. I’d never heard of such a transformation before. I unsheathed my daggers, ready for the impending attack, but kept my focus on her change. She grew two extra teeth that were elongated like fangs. She almost looked like some fae vampire. It was the oddest thing.
She lunged at me over the white wooden counter. I didn’t get a chance to defend myself before Dante grabbed her by the throat and pinned her down on the counter.
“Who warned you? And why are you attacking us?” he growled.
Two more bloodsongs raced towards us from the street outside. I left Dante to his interrogation and prepared to take down the next attackers. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. This was what I had been raised for.
Two men practically skidded around the corner, their shoes failing to get complete purchase on the smooth stone. Their skin was turning the same odd greenish gold as the witch inside, and their elongated teeth poked over their bottom lip. The taller one with sandy hair slowed down and changed direction as though to circle around me, whereas his friend with a flatter nose and bright blue hair came straight at me. I centred myself and let my instincts take over.
I kept the shop at my back, trusting Dante could keep the witch inside under control, and that stopped the men-things from getting behind me. They had both slowed to a steady prowl as they walked back and forth in front of me, waiting for me to make the first move. I spun my blades, which drew their attention and gave me the split second I needed to dart in and a slash at the sandy-haired one’s throat. I nicked the soft flesh there, but he brought up his forearm to push the blade away. I stepped in a little closer and slashed at his inner thigh. That one struck home. He snarled as I backed off and watched for the next attack.