Hexx stuck out his bony chest. “I’m an independent contractor. I don’t work for anyone. And even if I did I would never be with them.”
“Exactly what a spy would say,” Wynn insisted, even though she truly didn’t think the demon had betrayed her. Hexx was many things. Devious, immoral, and willing to sell his soul for a few bucks. But he wasn’t a poker player. Any lie would be etched on his face. “You told me that there was an item with enormous powers hidden at the Witch’s Brew, deliberately leading me into their trap.”
Tossing the crystals on a nearby tote, Hexx licked his lips. “Look, I was just repeating what I heard. If you want to blame someone for the false information, then...” Hexx abruptly gasped. “Shit.”
“What?”
“I overheard two fairies talking about the item when I was at the Dead Badger. I thought they were talking kind of loud about something that was supposed to be a big secret.” He grunted. “And now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure one of the fairies works for Valen.”
A genuine stab of fear pierced Wynn’s heart. She didn’t live in New York City, but she traveled through the area often enough to recognize the name. You’d have to live under a rock not to know who he was.
“Valen the vampire? The local leader of the Gyre and one of the most powerful members of the Cabal?” she hissed. “That Valen?”
“Yeah.” Hexx fisted his hands as his eyes darted from side to side. As if he were expecting something to leap out and attack. “They set you up, not me. Which means they’re probably chasing you right now. Dammit. Get out of here.”
“Don’t be such a baby. No one followed me here.” Wynn reached into the pocket of her coat, brushing her fingers over the stones.
It was supposed to be a reminder that she’d taken all the necessary precautions to avoid being tracked. A promise that no one could know she was in this dingy apartment. But instead of the confidence that she was seeking, a wave of dread cascaded through her.
Had the Cabal realized who she was and what she was doing? Did they have some means of tracking her that she didn’t know about?
That would explain why she’d felt as if she were being stalked since arriving in New York.
“Shit,” she breathed.
“Wynn? What’s wrong?”
Hexx’s sharp question cut through the panic that threatened to cloud Wynn’s mind. Right now it didn’t matter who set the trap. All that mattered was getting back to her lair before she could be captured. Once she was safe she could reconsider her current plan of action.
“You know what? I think you’re right,” she said. “We should run.”
Giving in to the abrupt impulse to flee, Wynn ignored the door behind her and instead leaped forward, clearing the nearby stack of totes.
“What?” Hexx watched her race past with wide, frightened eyes. “Dammit, Wynn. If those leeches—”
She didn’t hear the end of his threat as she crashed through the windows and plummeted to the sidewalk. She landed awkwardly, pain jolting up her legs and into her lower back. Unlike demons and vampires, she didn’t have superpowers. If she broke her ankle, she was going to be incapacitated until she could steal a healing potion.
The knowledge usually made her avoid performing any daring feats. She left that to amateur thieves who loved the drama. Tonight, however, speed was more important than caution.
Reminding herself of that fact, Wynn limped down the street. Within a block she felt the familiar sensation of being watched.
“Leave me alone,” she growled, wincing as she picked up her pace.
Tomorrow she was going to be too sore to move. Always assuming she made it to tomorrow.
A fresh surge of adrenaline raced through Wynn, giving her the strength to dart down an alleyway and through a rusted door she’d left wedged open. Just because she was forced to ad-lib her current plans, didn’t mean she was completely reckless. She had her escape in place before entering the Witch’s Brew.
“Stop!”
The male voice sliced through the darkness, edged with a ruthless command. Along with it came a blast of compulsion. The power wrapped around Wynn, stroking over her skin with a shocking heat. That wasn’t a leech. Their magic was frigid. Like being touched with an icicle.
This was...
Hell, she didn’t know. She’d never felt anything like it.
The realization sent her scurrying across the cement floor slowly crumbling to dust. The building had once been a fish market, but it’d been stripped down to the studs several years ago. Best of all, the ceiling was sagging and the entire structure leaned to the side, slowly losing its battle against gravity. No one was willing to enter when there was a risk of a total collapse, not even the humans who spent their nights on the street. It made it a perfect location to stash one of her skipping stones.
Limping through the shadows pierced by moonlight from the holes in the ceiling, Wynn paused long enough to bend down and touch the ground. She closed her eyes, shuffling through the various strands of magic that twirled through her like a spiderweb, weaving and unweaving as if seeking to claim her attention. It usually created an explosion of sparkles that enchanted Wynn. Who wouldn’t enjoy watching their own personal lightshow? But lately, one of the strands had become thicker and darker than the others.
