“Hmmpf. That’s why you smell like that.”
Mac wrinkles his nose, sniffing his armpit.
“Clovias, can you help?”
“Of course I can help. The problem is a hint of the magic still lingers in the cottage. It’s apparently enough to keep her alive. Are you sure you want her to die? As soon as I intervene, she will cease.”
“We need to know the mage’s name,” Mac whispers.
“I got the name.” I turn to Clovias. “Please.”
Belinda weakly grasps for my hand, dragging it to her chest.
Thank you, demon. May your soul be blessed with riches.
It has been. Be well on your journey, Belinda.
I move back as Clovias puts his hand on her forehead, muttering a chant in the language of the underworld, and I protectively pull Mac toward me.
The old witch gasps as her body rattles with its final moments of life. She literally disintegrates before our eyes as her soul rises like a bright creamy light, slipping through the cracks of the floor.
“She’ll be met on the other side,” Clovias says, gazing up as dust falls from the ceiling. “Oh dear. Apparently, the magic was keeping this structure up too. We should go.”
The three of us barely make it through the door as the house crumbles around us. The last of the village of Belinda Legarr lies in ruins at our feet.
“Thanks for helping, Clovias.”
He nods, still looking too hard at Mac. I growl, stepping in front of my mate.
“I’ve heard of your kind ways before,” Clovias says. “Yet you’re part of Auri’s compound. How interesting.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear.”
Clovias chuckles. “I never do.” He snaps his fingers and flickers out of sight.
When I turn to Mac, he’s chewing on his bottom lip. “Now what?”
“Now we find ourselves a thieving mage named Rune.” I squeeze his hand. “More adventures. Come now, mate. We have research to do.”
SEVEN
MAC
Drax wrapshis arms around me, and in a blink we’re back at Auri’s compound in the underworld. I’ll never get used to traveling that way, but this time it’s not just the jarring sensation of inter-plane travel that has my stomach lurching.
The smell of that poor old witch’s decaying flesh is still in my nose. I snort out a huff of flames to try to clear it, but it doesn’t do a damn thing to help, and Drax’s cryptic remarks from earlier are only adding to the knots in my stomach.
Auri is never going to let me go? That can’t be right, can it? I really need to see that contract sooner rather than later. Are there demon lawyers who help sort out stuff like this? There has to be a way to fix this mess I made. I drag in a few shallow, ragged breaths before I realize I’m bent over and choking on the panic rising in my throat.
“It’s okay, mate. She’s not suffering anymore,” Drax says in a soothing voice, rubbing slow circles on my back.
“What the fuck?” I mutter, bracing my hand against the wall and forcing myself to take slower breaths. “Who would want that? Why wouldAuriwant an amulet that doesthat?”
He grunts in what sounds like agreement. “I don’t know why Auri wants most of the things he asks us for, and I think it’s usually better not to think about it.”
I shake my head and finally manage to stand up straight again. My chest is still tight, and that nightmarish odor is still burning the back of my throat, but the likelihood that I’ll hurl is lessening, so that’s a win.
“What the fuck, Drax?” I ask again. “What if he wants the amulet so he can do that to someone? I need to talk to him.”
