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I laughed and hugged her again, then filled her fanny pack with her tools before going into my room to find a weapon.
Thorn sat on the end of the bed, his hands clasped in his lap. I jumped when I saw him, then again when I tried to step around him to get to the closet, and he grabbed my arm.
Without a word, he pulls me into him and holds me in place, one hand fisted in my hair as he bends and kisses me. I open to him, expecting to feel that same rush of power as before, but the mark stays still as his tongue strokes into my mouth. I brace myself against his chest, and his free hand slides down my side, then up again, under my t-shirt, until his fingers graze my ribcage.
“Tonight, we will make sure you are safe. Tomorrow, we'll discuss what it means for you to be my partner, Partner.“ He gives my bottom lip a quick nip that steals my breath and releases me, striding out of the room before I understand what happened.
Shakily, I choose from my backup knives and put on my holster. I never use a gun, but Kye made me train with it when my first shift took too long to arrive, and if ever there was a night that called for using it, it was tonight.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, making me grin. Pink and blonde hair pulled back, black ripped tee, black leggings, knife belt, and shoulder holster. “Hey, Chas, do I look like a tomb raider or a bounty hunter?”
She sticks her head around the corner. “You look hot, is what.” We stared at each other for a moment and grinned simultaneously.
And just like that, all is right in my world again.
Thorn cleared his throat. “Ladies, if you’re ready, my people have reached the wolves’ territory.”
The mood shifts like a change in the wind. Instantly sober, Chas and I followed Thorn. It was time to bag me a witch.
Just as before, the storefront's missing from the block. I couldn't tell if I felt better or worse, knowing it wasn't just the crazy happening in my head earlier.
Thorn strolled up to the corner wall and placed his hand against the brick, closing his eyes and pressing like he could push his fingers through the mortar if he pushed hard enough.
Slowly, the bricks multiply right before our eyes, the building appearing to unfold and stretch until, little by little, a sign is revealed above a quaint glass door that says, La Sorcière.
Son of a bitch.
None of us says a word as he holds the door for us. Maybe because he’s a gentleman, more likely because I’m the one with a job to do here. Chas touches my shoulder, and the illusion of the store falls away.
The customers and the knickknacks are still there, but now I can see the help for what they are, and none of them are witches. At least, not living ones.
I file away the horrifying image of a rotting zombie bagging incense, the flesh of her arm sagging almost into the cash register, and push farther into the room. At the far end, a door repelled me when I tried to touch the handle.
Chas pulled a bottle from her fanny pack and broke it over the handle, releasing a sweet, herbal scent. I reached again; this time, I could turn the knob and push the door inward.
I remembered the hall from before and the door to the alley to my left. I turn right, and Chas stops me, pulling out another bottle. “For the illusions,” she says as she wipes my eyelids with mugwort, rosemary, and nettle tincture. “Don't worry. The nettle shouldn't sting for more than a moment. I cooked it down for days.”
She's right. At first, it felt like I had rubbed poison oak on my eyes. But I blink away the discomfort and can see the corridor clearly and without pain. The door at the end still stood.
Thorn goes first again, walking with his hands at the level of his waist as he goes, feeling around for magic, wards, or something.
We nearly made it to the office when a door I didn't see appeared mid-hall. Thorn unceremoniously got yanked through, and I could only watch helplessly.
28
As Thorn disappeared, a man shambled from the entrance. Only he walked weirdly, and he glared at us with dead eyes. A lifeless groan came with every movement like an accordion jerked open and closed.
Chas grabbed my arm and pulled me back muttering invocations to Voodin saints. “That evil bitch,” she said. “A zombie.”
I glared at it, and blue fire gathered in my palm. That surprised me, though it shouldn’t, considering what happened at Mary of the Sacred Heart Church.
Chas stared at my hand as the zombie gained ground then she shook her head as if coming to from a shock.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” Chas said. “Toss it at him.”
I flicked my hand out, willing that ball of blue fire at him, and it struck. It caught fire, and then the zombie fizzled like a firework at the end of its charge and disappeared.
“Good job, I think?” said Chas.
