“You tell me,” he snapped, wiping his thick hand over his forehead. The sweat was running down his face and dripping from his chin. He was smart enough not to protest at the fire that burned and sizzled just inches from his face. “Some crazy dude came in with glowing green eyes tearing the place apart. I tried to stop him but he killed two of my nephews before he pulled your necklace out of the hidden vault under the floor and demanded to know where to find the owner. I assume he meant you.”
“What did you tell him?”
Axton shrugged. “I gave him every address I could think of, plus a few I made up.”
“Thanks,” she said dryly.
“Hey!” Axton arched back as the flames flared. “I didn’t have a choice. I was trying to save my skin. When it was obvious the dudewasn’t happy with my answers I took off. Just in time, as it turned out. I barely got to the end of the block before the place exploded.” Axton pressed his hand against the raw burn on the side of his face. “Who was that creature? And what the hell did you do to piss him off?”
“Just being my usual charming self,” she admitted with complete honesty.
“That would do it.” Axton made a sound of disgust. “Well, you buggered my life.”
“You’ll get over it.”
“How? How am I going to get over it?” Axton’s voice went up several octaves as he stomped a foot in frustration. “My shop is destroyed. My clan is scattered except for these handful of losers.” He waved a hand toward the demons huddled together in the far corner. “And I’m terrified to leave this hole in the ground.”
Wynn reached into her pocket to pull out her necklace, holding it out so the silver caught and reflected the light from Azh’s fire.
“You can start by telling me why you wanted this medallion.”
Axton froze, his eyes widening as if he were unnerved by the sight of the pendant. Was he worried it was going to bring back the demon who’d destroyed his shop? Or was there another reason for his concern?
“I didn’t. Not really. I felt sorry for you, so I offered you a few quid for the thing.”
Wynn rolled her eyes. Did Axton think she was stupid? He’d never done anything out of pity.
“Right.” She snorted in disbelief. “You never cared about anyone but yourself. And you certainly never offered money unless you knew you were going to get something out of it.”
Axton shrugged. “I told you, I felt sorry for you. Do you know how pathetic you looked on the street corner begging for a few scraps—” The taunting words were cut short as Axton’s hair caught on fire. “Argh. Stop.” Axton batted his hands against his head, desperately trying to put out the flames. “Please.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Azh growled, his words rumbling through the hidden lair like thunder. “Why did you buy the necklace?”
Axton seemed to shrink beneath the force of Azh’s power, looking ridiculous with his hair half burned away. Once, he’d strolled through the streets with his chest puffed out and his lips twisted into an arrogant sneer. He’d been the unchallenged cock of the walk and he’d rejoiced in keeping the lesser demons in their place. Either with violence or threats against their families. Now he looked like a sad, pathetic loser.
“I recognized the symbol etched onto the medallion,” he at last admitted in sullen tones.
Wynn studied the carving on the silver. It was so worn she could barely make out more than a tree with branches spread wide and a crescent moon at the top.
“Is it a human crest?” she asked. The aristocracy in England were always stamping their family coat of arms on stuff.
“No. It’s the symbol of the Graia Coven.”
Wynn clenched her teeth. Of course. Obviously, her newfound memories were true. She had been connected to a coven. And they’d tried to burn her at the stake.
The bitches.
“Witches,” she hissed.
“One of the most powerful covens in England,” Axton added before he shrugged. “Or at least they used to be. They lost a lot of power over the years.”
Wynn shoved the medallion back into her pocket. It was a painful reminder of what the coven had tried to do to her.
“Why would you be interested in human magic?”
“I could tell you weren’t a witch, so I assumed you stole the medallion from them. I tried to sell it back to them for a tidy profit.”
Wynn considered his explanation before giving a slow nod. Cheating a helpless woman to make a quick dollar was typical for Axton. He was a common street thug who had the imagination of a turnip.
