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Xiao Dan frowned. “I’m not ready to draw the attention of the Variks. A confrontation with that clan could cause the balance to be upset. That is the last thing we need when we have no intention of remaining after we reacquire Didi. It would be best if we avoid the Variks and any of the other major clans for as long as possible.”
Xiang huffed and threw up his hands. “The other option is to look online.”
“Excuse me?” Chen interjected.
“Online. The Internet,” Xiang repeated, enunciating carefully as if he thought Chen were a moron. Mei Lian tittered beside him. Chen ignored it. If Xiang had a partner in crime for trouble, it was usually Mei Lian. The two could have been twins, their twisted sense of humor identical.
Chen narrowed his eyes on the man and bit out between clenched teeth. “I know what the Internet is. What do you mean by looking on the Internet for a witch? Something different from Meimei’s searches?”
“Like a business listing?” Jun-Jun asked.
“Yes.” Xiang flashed one last sneer at Chen before turning his gaze to Xiao Dan. “I’ve begun skimming the Internet here, local business listings and the city hubs. I’ve run across a couple of witches advertising services. There’s even a necromancer who’s offering to help you speak to your dead relatives.”
“We are not hiring a necromancer,” Chen snapped.
Xiang rolled his eyes. “Of course not. It was just an example. The point is, we may find a witch who can help us without having to physically track her down.”
“But how do we know we’re not contacting a complete charlatan versus an actual witch?” Ming Yu inquired.
Xiang shrugged, but it was Xiao Dan who sighed and said, “We don’t. At least, not until we’ve spoken to the so-called witch in person. We also don’t have another option at the moment. It’s a starting point. We will find a witch who can aid us.”
“And if we can’t?” Xiang demanded.
Shixiong remained silent for several seconds, his gaze hardening on the low, slender table that rested between the two sofas. When he spoke, there was a coldness to Xiao Dan’s tone that Chen rarely heard. “I would prefer we are there to meet the fae the moment the door opens. Take them by surprise. But if that’s not possible, we’ll also work on a strategy for hunting and exterminating each one of them until we can get our brother back.”
“We will free Wu Yichen from the fae,” Chen agreed.
A ghost of a smirk flitted across Shixiong’s lips, and he rocked his head in the smallest of nods. “If the gods and ancestors smile on us, we will be home by the end of summer, our clan whole once again.”
Chen wasn’t willing to leave things up to the gods or their ancestors. He had an idea about how to procure a witch. He just wasn’t willing to tell Shixiong…yet.
Better to beg for forgiveness than ask permission, right?
Chapter 2
Moon Mullins
Moon squinted at his friend Redstone and frowned. “You’re not drunk at all, are you?”
Red’s crooked grin stretched across his lips as he leaned against the wall. He rolled his head toward Moon, flattening some of his spiky red hair. “Nope.”
Moon read the earth witch’s lips rather than hearing the single word. Music blasted through Phoenix, the bass pounding so hard he could feel it rattling his teeth.
The fire-themed nightclub with its red walls and black booths wasn’t packed, but they were an hour from last call. People were filtering out to hit an after party. Or worse, heading home to crash for a few hours before dragging themselves to their day jobs the next morning. Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about early-morning alarms and a commute to an intolerable desk job in a tiny cube.
He was a trust-fund baby—not that he’d admit that to any of his friends. Dear God, that would be a nightmare. Both Red and their other friend Maddox would never let him live such a thing down. His other friend Sky would be a bit more understanding. But only a little.
They knew he’d inherited his house and some land from his parents after they died in a car accident while he was in his first year of college. But all his close friends thought he ran a variety of small businesses and side gigs. That was partially true.
A lot of his small business endeavors resulted in a sort of barter system. Last he checked, the phone company wouldn’t let him pay his cell bill with a load of chopped wood or the deer pelts the local shifter pack dropped off for him.
But he liked his carefree life. He worked when he was in the mood, and he had plenty of time to pursue his magic and art. As long as he did nothing extravagant, he had ample money to live from for the rest of his life.
