I snarled at him. That was no choice and he knew it.“You’re an unfeeling jackass.”
His lips twisted in a victorious smile as he held my door open for me.
“Thought you might see it my way,” he murmured.
I seated myself as he walked around the car. He’d just slid inside when a crash came from Miriam’s shop.
CHAPTERNINE
“What was that?” I asked.
It had sounded like glass breaking. A woman screamed seconds later.
“That’s coming from Miriam’s shop,” I said, already reaching for the door.
Liam hit the locks, twisting the key in the ignition as the car rumbled to a start.
“You’re not going to help her?” I asked.
“You expected different from an unfeeling jackass?” he mocked.
“Forget it,” I said. I put my shoulder into the door, the metal squealing in protest as I slowly forced it open.
Liam swore and hit the button, unlocking the door.
Knew he’d see it my way, I thought smugly as I shoved it open and got out.
“Aileen, don’t be stupid. This is the witch’s problem,” he argued, not getting out.
I leaned down and looked through the open door. “Guess that’s the difference between you and me. You can watch as someone is hurt because they’re not one of yours, while I never could.”
I slammed the door on whatever response he might have made, jogging back toward the shop. It would have been nice to have a weapon, not that my gun would do me much good if I faced golems.
To my relief, Miriam hadn’t gotten around to locking the front door behind me. I slipped in, grabbing the bell on top of the door to stop it from announcing my presence.
The front of the shop was still empty, shadows making the counters and collection of items seem more ominous than they would have normally. There were a lot of good places for an enemy to hide in here.
I moved forward, my feet whispering across the tile. An ornate umbrella, one of those paper ones that would melt in the rain, caught my eye. As a weapon it was lacking, but it was better than nothing.
I plucked it from its place and crept forward. A woman chanted in an unfamiliar language. I’d only heard it a few times, but I recognized it. It was the witches’ unique language of power, used to channel their magic in ways that had never been properly explained to me.
She shouted one last word, the spell’s trigger. There was a burst of air, like someone had punctured a balloon and all the air rushed out. Then the tiny shop shook, the glass rattling before settling.
I dashed into the other room, not letting the logic-bending sight break my focus. I’d been in here before so I knew what to expect.
Miriam’s back room had a stone floor and glass walls and roof, with an antique table in the middle of a mass of greenery. Every plant you could imagine took up room on every available surface. It was a gardener’s paradise, a greenroom where there shouldn’t have been one, the smell of dirt and growing things permeating the air.
Miriam stood in the midst of it all, her back against a wall, several of her plants knocked over at her feet.
Across from her stood another woman, her face wrinkled in rage as she faced down Miriam. Her skin was sallow and cracked, her hair lank around her face. She looked sick. And oddly familiar.
Between the two women, Miriam’s oasis had been turned into a nightmare scene—golems in the midst of pulling themselves out of pots. These golems were different from the ones of last night. For one thing, they were thinner, almost reedy-looking and a lot shorter.
For another, there were green leaves growing from the dirt of their skin. Some had flowers sprouting from their arms. They looked less menacing this time and more like the jolly green giant if he’d been hit with a flower stick.
Miriam spat another word, a ball of magic the color of midnight hitting a golem in the chest and sending it staggering back a few steps. It shook itself, advancing on Miriam again with slow ponderous steps as she backed along the wall, trying to avoid any more of her pots.
I drove my umbrella into the back of one golem. It sunk into the creature’s chest with a wet glugging sound. I tugged on it, but the umbrella didn’t budge.
