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It’s not often that you are held at knifepoint twice in one month. Well, not often for anormalperson to be held at knifepoint twice in one month. Ace supposed she was far from normal. First, it had been the queens’ guards who’d tried to stop her from stealing, then it was the thieves on the road with Petu, and then warlocks.
So shouldn’t she be used to it by now?
To some extent she was. No longer was her mind immediately racing toward the idea of death. At that point, she would have welcomed death with open arms. Hope still lived inside of her, watered and fed by people like Shelby, Rehan, and even the Fae king, Osiris. Now even if she was aware of the threat poised against her, she didn’t sweat near as much. She had her holy fire and so did Rehan.
Would holy fire beat warlock magic? What about the holy fire and magic that burned within Shelby himself? Fire of the gods versus the muddled down bloodline of the gods. Which was stronger? Ace didn’t want to find out.
Men circled the carriage. Rehan’s poor driver was nearly washed of all color as he kept his hands in his lap; the warlock seated next to him held a dagger angled between two ribs. A few stragglers stepped out of the tree line, and Ace’s gaze bounced from face to face.
No witches.
No witches, she repeated in a hiss to the gods. She’d thought they were close to Glatton after the gods had spoken. They’d failed to mention anything about warlocks.
Yes, obviously these are not witches, Greshta said in return.What a clever girl. She sees it, she thinks it.
Would it kill you to be kind on occasion?Sylik sounded bored.
It most certainly would.Mina was snickering as if all of this was funny.
One does not remain in power by being nice,Greshta pointed out.
Get to the point!Ace wanted to scream. Not only had Greshta insulted her but time was quickly running out. Warlocks were creeping in closer and closer and who knew what they’d want to do with them. All they could do was plead their case.
The man she’d run into set her back on her feet. He tipped her chin with dirt-stained nails and tilted her face this way and that, examining her from all angles. Ace watched him back, her nose burning with the smell of his sweat and body odor.
Thin lips were pulled back in a snarl to show off all of his very yellow, very crooked, and very smelly teeth. Two scars were made more gruesome by the smile, both starting at the corners of his mouth and angling up toward his ears. Another scar split one of his eyebrows and several more on his scalp left his short blonde hair patchy.
“We are fleeing from the queens,” Shelby stated pulling the gruesome warlocks gaze over Ace’s shoulders.
“Why?”
Ace squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel the dirt on her face where the warlock had just touched. Gripping her shoulders, the warlock spun her to face Shelby and tugged her against his chest.
Patience is a virtue. And these men are your friends, a less familiar voice said. Likely Latsov the god of patience.
They do not look like friends right now.
The warlock’s fingers dug into her cloak, his nails threatening to pierce through the fabric and into her skin. She wanted to squirm out of his hold or at least put an inch of space between them. Despite the cold, his heat was radiating into her and causing perspiration to form along her spine.
Shelby’s gaze ticked down to the warlock’s grip, words rushing from his lips. “We are looking for Glatton.”
Laughter broke out amongst the group. The warlock beside Rehan slapped a hand against Rehan’s shoulder, shaking him as he doubled over. Even Ace was scowling now as she blinked open her eyes.
Every breath the warlock took pressed against her back. When he chuckled, she tensed, her shoulders nearly reaching her ears.
“You are looking for The Lost City of Witches?” someone near Shelby shouted.
Calling it ‘The Lost City of Witches’ made it sound so mysterious.
“Good luck,” another man tossed out. Each small phrase only provoked more laughter and mockery.
“We already know where they are,” Ace snapped.
As quickly as she’d blurted the words, Shelby’s head jerked in her direction. She watched as his breathing became a fraction more rapid. Was that fear? Had she said the wrong thing?
The warlocks were suddenly very quiet.
“And what do you know, Pumpkin?” The rough scratch of stubble grated along Ace’s cheek. The warlock’s temple rested against hers, his heavy breaths making the length of her hair that had fallen over her chest rustle with every exhale.
