“She does not even try to hide her dark master’s mark,” the smaller remarked, rising on tiptoes to see over his accomplice’s shoulder.
My coven mark, the one that proclaimed me a member of the Midnight Coven, burned on the center of my forehead, protesting the salt that held my power at bay. The paste I’d dabbed across my skin to soften it hours before had rubbed away. I did not need a mirror to verify that the lines were clear and dark now. I could feel each one where it was carved into my skin. I’d thought it was fading as the months and miles separated me from my coven, dwindling along with my power, as Maura had always warned… but maybe this resurgence of power had reinvigorated the mark.
Thatwaspower crackling in my veins, solidifying within my blood. What these rash humans did not realize was that when they trapped me, they trapped all of my latent power as well. Instead of seeping from my skin with every drop of sweat, pouring from my lungs with every breath, it was trapped within me. Building. Building. Until it burst out.
I may be weakened, like all of Velora. But without realizing it, these two vermin had shoved me into a pressure-cooker of power.
Words formed on my tongue, but without the ability to move my lips, I could not speak the spells into existence. Spells must be spoken to have power. But the power that curled through my body was not bound by movement. I summoned the energy, molding it into deadly shards, waiting.
The smaller, more skittish man halted several feet away, letting the other approach on his own. “How long will the salt hold her?”
“How should I know,” the bullish one answered, circling me. He let out a low, appreciative whistle as he inspected my backside, the curve of my cloak where it was belted around my waist outlining my full hips. “That purse on her belt is full.”
The thinner man paled. “And it’s nothing compared to?—”
“Speak for yourself, I’ll take every coin I can get for this job.”
Do it.All I needed was for him to put one bullish foot out of line, to break the constrictive ring of salt I’d stumbled into, and I would immobilize them both.
The smaller man threw himself into the space between us. “No. We…” his eyes flew around the deserted street. The only eyes watching us belonged to a singular crow, perched on the half-caved in roof of the abandoned general store. It cawed plaintively, hopping from foot to foot. Not much help to any of us.
“Wecan’t,” he finished, eyes turning up to his partner. The wide shoulders squared in protest.
Yes,I silently urged. My fingers began to tingle.
“Then I’ll take what’s mine.” Spittle sprayed the smaller man’s face. But before he could wipe it off, the bigger one spun, reaching across the barrier of salt for the small leather purse tied at my waist.
Mistake.
He hadn’t disturbed the ring of salt, but he’d willingly put himself within its power. Within mine.
His hand never made it to my waist. Frost engulfed the tips, spreading up his fingers to his palm before his feeble human heart could pulse a single beat. Curls of sparkling ice snaked around his wrist. He jerked back violently, colliding with the other man, sending them both sprawling in the snow.
He howled, clutching his ruined hand. Already, his fingertips were darkening to black, frostbite setting in.
“We can’t touch her,” the other one rasped, crawling backward. Realization turned his features paler and paler until they nearly matched the snow all around us.
The injured man huffed, clouds billowing out from his nostrils like an angry bull as he clambered back to his feet. He shoved his ruined hand inside of his overcoat, between the buttons. A soundless laugh rolled through my unmoving chest and throat. Let him try to warm that hand. He would lose the fingers, regardless.
Before, his dark eyes had been filled with greed. Now they gleamed with hate.
Good. Hate was one step away from fear. And fear made men stupid. That was a lesson I’d learned long before becoming a witch.
“We don’t need to touch her.” He reached inside the pocket of his overcoat with his uninjured hand, digging around even as he kept his eyes firmly fixed upon me.
The smaller man was on his feet again as well, though he’d put even more space between us. His eyes darted from side to side, lingering on the alleyway where they’d lain in wait to accost me. He was going to bolt.
I’d decide later whether to hunt him down and punish him. I kept the larger share of my attention on the wide man in front of me. I knew the moment that he found whatever it was he was searching for. Those eyes, dark and full of malice, shifted to something more than hate.
“What do we do with witches?” He did not wait for an answer as his lips curved, drawing the device from the confines of his overcoat. “We burn them.”
Dark God, be with me.
Even immortality had its caveats.
The skittish one froze mid-step, his eyes flaring as the other clicked the device together. Shiny metal against glittering pyrite. A pale gold spark fell to the ground at his feet, disappearing instantly in the snow.
The power in my veins stuttered. But the thin ring of salt held me in place, so that while my insides recoiled, my body could not.
