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Chapter Thirteen
Xander
I fire up my forge with a blast of flames from my throat and watch for several minutes as the coals begin to heat up. Then I take my time selecting several long pieces of metal, and place them halfway into the red-hot bed to heat up. By the time I pull one out, examine the glowing length of it in the light of the moon, and turn toward the two bound and gagged men, they’re about ready to shit themselves.
Seeing a man spout fire can have that effect on a person.
“Are you two in a more talkative mood now?” I ask, raising a brow.
They both nod emphatically, their eyes so wide I think someone’s going to bust a vein. I walk over, burning hot metal in my bare hand, and pull the gag out of the mouth of the one who had danced with Rowan.
“We were just hired, dude!” the guy shrieks before I can even start questioning him. “It wasn’t personal, I swear. We weren’t going to touch her.”
“I imagine it was quite personal for her,” I growl. “Do you think women deserve to be treated like that? Like possessions? Inhuman?”
“N-no, man. Of course not.” The guy is sweating so profusely he looks like he’s melting away.
“Your actions say otherwise.” I hold the flaming metal up next to his face until I can see the red glow of it in his terrified eyes.
“Please, please don’t.”
“You know the difference between you and the women you drug?”
He shakes his head back and forth and trembles like a small dog.
“You’re getting a chance to state your opinion. Unconscious women don’t get that luxury.” I walk back over to the forge, put the first piece of metal back in the coals, and pick up a fresh one. As I approach the man again, he and his friend struggle against their bonds. But no one gets out of my knots. “Now, tell me who hired you.”
“I don’t know, dude. I don’t know…”
I lift the metal toward his face again.
“I’m telling the truth! I swear! He contacted us online in a chat room. We don’t know who he is.”
The pure terror in his eyes tells me he’s not lying. I glance over at the other guy and his eyes confirm it, too. “What were your exact instructions?”
“Drug her, tie her up, take her to a spot in the woods by one AM and leave her there.”
I turn back to the forge so I can process my thoughts, making a show of stoking the coals and rearranging my tools as I do. I’d hidden my surprise earlier when the guy told me he’d been hired. That information changed everything. Here I thought I was just dealing with two lowlife rapists. But this meant that Rowan specifically was the target. It also means that any slim chance of that demonic thing in the woods being a coincidence is now gone. Someone wants her dead. But why?
It’s close to two AM now, so whoever hired these guys will know they missed their drop, know something went wrong. But I may be able to glean some clue from the location. Maybe, if I’m really lucky, whoever hired them will still be there.
“Tell me the location of the drop spot,” I say, turning around to face them again.
The quivering excuse of a man tells me. It’s about ten miles from here, out in the middle of nowhere, which isn’t a shocker. I approach the guy and shove his gag back in his mouth, jerk it tight around his face.
“Taking money to drug a woman is no better than if you were doing it for yourself,” I snarl.
I leave them there and head into the woods. It’s not like I can let them go to run off and warn whoever is trying to murder Rowan. Probably the same person who murdered her aunt. Plus, they need a few days to think about their choices in life.
When I get to a clearing not far from my shed, I strip off my clothes, let my inner dragon free, and leap into the sky. I skim over the treetops. It’s far too bright tonight with the moon almost full to risk a higher elevation. No, for that I have to wait for a spectacular thunderstorm, when the clouds obscure the moon and everything else.
About a half mile from the location they’d disclosed, the smell hits me. Burning flesh. A single curl of smoke rises from the forest ahead, and dread settles heavy in my stomach. I drop down to the ground again and shift back into human form. I jog the rest of the way, my enhanced senses alert to company. But when I reach the lake, a popular local fishing spot, I don’t see anyone.
Well, not anyone living.
Horror rises in my chest as my eyes fall on the source of the smoke and the awful smell. It’s a body tied to a tall wooden post, burnt beyond recognition. But I can tell from the shape of the figure that it’s a woman. And I’d bet money it was a witch.
A witch burnt at the stake.
I push past my revulsion and force myself to investigate the area. I find several partial footprints in the damp sand. There’s a strange smell, too, barely detectible through the overwhelming stench of charred flesh. It’s my dragon that detects it; my human nose is not nearly so sensitive. It’s sulfur. Not that I hadn’t already guessed this was tied to the demonic creature in the woods.
Was this meant to be Rowan? A wave of black fury rocks through my body, toes to crown. My dragon wants to find whoever did this and rip them apart, piece by piece, over a period of hours. Days. I don’t trust witches, but being burnt alive? It’s one of the worst ways to die. No one deserves that.
And whoever did it is still out there.
Plus, they know now that Rowan got away. Which means they’re going to try to finish the job.
I shift forms and take to the sky, heading for Raven Manor.
