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Liar, she mouths back, taking me by surprise at how clearly she and I connect. A psychic witch, one with exceptional telekinetic powers that perhaps may match my own.
I shrug.“The vampires intend to get the information we need. That is all. A truce, for the moment?”
Her eyes narrow, but the beating of her heart stays steady as she contemplates my suggestion. Hopefully, a sign that I’m not about to be turned into a toad or any other parlor shop tricks these cackling hags love to play on vampires and other dwellers of the underworld.
The evil but sexy little witch averts her attention and turns to her friends. I stand impatiently waiting in the middle of the club as people walk around me, with no idea that a vampire master has been stopped dead in his tracks by a persnickety little witch.
One that will pay for her audacity the minute that I have what I want, but for now, I’ll let her think she has the upper hand, until the very minute that I don’t.
The foursome breaks up, three of them leaving the enchantress on her own as they walk to the bar and perch onto the empty barstools for a front row view of our conversation, still cackling softly to themselves. They’ll see who’s laughing when they’re hanging from the cross above a fiery pit of flames for helping the rogues try to get the upper hand of the vampires.
I gesture to the curved red leather booth as I approach the witch who dares to allow herself to be drawn out by a vampire. An unusual move sends her friends away, one that I can’t help to find exceptionally intriguing given our obvious physical attraction. “Do you mind if I sit? I promise not to bite.”
Her pretty lips purse, not at all amused with my attempt to bring levity to an otherwise tense situation or to simply deescalate whatever fear she has of me, at least for now.
I set both of my hands on the table. “I need information, that’s all.” I already know she and her friends aren’t the ones I’m after, but they can sure as hell lead me to the ones who are.
She grasps her glass and brings it to her lips. Her long, creamy fingers with pointed green fingernails are adorned with multiple silver rings. I watch mesmerized as her bow shaped lips caress the glass and her throat constricts, leaving it a little emptier than it was before and a red lip shaped design on the glass when she’s done.
Evil little enchantress…
She smiles. “The name is Willow. Enchantress is usually saved for someone with far greater powers than me.”
I smirk… Damn, she’s hot, and she can clearly read my mind.
The waiter stops by and takes my order of a scotch, although I’d prefer the calming blend of a Descallia Red. A mixture of wine and pureblood created locally from the vineyards thriving in the region. I turn to her after he’s left to get my drink. “So, let’s forget the games. You can read minds, turn me into a frog or some other such nonsense, causing me to have to go to our healer to get it sorted. I can scorch you, burn you to ashes where you sit without any warning. Let’s forget all of that. I have a proposition for you, Willow.”
Her eyebrow turns up in an arch as she draws on the long straw from her drink. She keeps me waiting as she swallows, twirling the peach-colored tube between two fingers. “I don’t make deals with vampires, Master Campania.”
The fact that she already knows who I am could work to my advantage. If she hasn’t figured it out yet, she should be very afraid, because my patience with these games is growing thin. We have a job to do and not very much time to get it done. “The witches we hunt helped Isala. Overmaster Descallia’s previous consigliere turned even more witches against Devora’s coven and intends to harm the head witches and high priestess…”
Willow raises a hand. “You want me to help you find my sister witches?”
“I don’t simply want you to—I expect it, if you and your cackling friends know what’s good for you. Did you not hear a word I said? They have sided with the rogues and your head witches, including Devora, are their targets. Surely you don’t want to help them with that?”
Her eyes begin that swirling thing, and she raises her hand.
My fangs descend, and a low growl barrels from the back of my throat. “Don’t do something you or I will both regret. Paybacks are hell, Willow. I promise to make your payment doubly hard if I waste needless time having some hex you place on me reversed. Do we understand each other, witch? I am not the vampire you want to mess around with. I have no time or patience for it.”
Her eyes continue to swirl, but she relents with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. What do you want to know? Maybe I’ll tell you and maybe I won’t, pureblood!”
“All you have to do is tell me where they are. We will do the rest.”
Willow averts her eyes, continuing to toy with her straw. I watch fascinated as her eyes stop swirling and turn the brightest of blue-greens, just like the Tyrrhenian Sea far beyond. “It’s hard to believe that Devora is sanctioning the vampires to find my sisters. How do I know what you say is true? What proof do you have, vampire?”
I gesture to the bauble hanging around her pretty little neck. “Summon her and ask her yourself, but make it quick. The longer it takes convincing you to help, the longer your group of rogue witches have to harm the rest of the witches and vampires too.”
She strokes the purplish glass bauble hanging from her neck with two fingers, but she’s no more going to summon Devora than I would. She has whatever magic it holds turned off for a reason, and we both know what that is. She strokes it again and overplays her hand.
I go to stand up. “We’re done here. I’ll inform Devora that you and your friends were far from cooperative and let her know exactly where to find you. Perhaps even the owner of this club and the man who rents his house to you already knows you and your friends are witches, yes?”
Her eyes flash with gold streaks. “Don’t you dare tell him one word of that, pureblood!”
I glance at my watch. “I have places to be, witch. Tell me what I want to know and quit toying with me if you want to keep any of the semblance of the life you’ve built here in Campania intact.”
Fucker…
I shrug… “It’s Master Fucker to you.”
