“I’m pissed that you’re freezing, not because you smacked my hand like a child.” Interpreting his expression is easy as I continue to rub his arms and step closer to him, hoping the friction will warm him along with my body. “Don’t do it again though,” I add so he knows I won’t deal with that kind of shit.
He lowers his face to the top of my head, and I feel his chest expand as he takes in a deep breath. The sigh that leaves his lips shouldn’t be erotic, but I think he’s already warped me.
Modeus steps around Egan’s other side so he’s close enough to lend his heat as well. I can’t help the spike of desire that sends my lower stomach tumbling. These two make it really hard to concentrate.
“We’ll find a place to crash once we’re done with the witches and make the return trip when the sun is still up, after I get you some goddamned clothes,” I announce when I step back from Egan. His lips are still too dark, but he doesn’t look half dead anymore, and it’s only been a few seconds. Egan rolls his wide shoulders as if he’s reminding me he has wings that will not be confined with material. “There are ways to make it work.”
The sole of my boot scrapes the pebbles on the ground when I spin to look at the tiny downtown area. We’re already attracting a lot of attention by being here. This town is technically near the border of my territory, but it’s deep into the interior, unless you come over the mountain, which makes it a less desirable location for many. The Obsidian Angels don’t have a very large presence here, and I’ll bet that’s why some of the inhabitants live here.
Just scanning the area allows me to see the heavy influence of the local coven. There are sigils and glyphs in plain sight, dotted over store signs and in windows. Word will spread fast that we’re here, if it hasn’t already, so I need to find the coven leader quickly.
When I head to the bar in the center of a small row of buildings, I have two large shadows behind me. The pentagram above the door tells me witches run the place. The music is rather low, but it is very late, or early for those who spend their day with the sun. At first, we’re ignored when we enter, but all it takes is one person looking in our direction before the entire place has eyes on us.
I saunter up to the bar. The witch behind the counter is pretending not to notice me as she wipes the bar. Her bracelets clang and rattle with her quick, jerky movements. “What can I get for you?” she asks before even looking up.
“Melva,” I tell her, giving her the name of the coven leader. She’s been rooted here for ages, and Harlow knew her well enough to tell me she wasn’t a bother, but we didn’t discuss her more than that, and that was a long time ago.
The girl lifts her eyes and releases the rag in her grip. “I can send someone after her, but it may take some time.” She swallows.
“You’ll take me to her now.” I don’t offer her any other option. She nods as if she expected this and proves she’s not dumb enough to argue. “We’re closing up. Head on home,” she calls to the patrons but keeps her eyes on me.
The squeaking of chairs and the shuffling of feet come fairly quickly. There’s a man passed out at the end of the bar who doesn’t move, but everyone just leaves him there, drooling on the counter. It’s a wonder he hasn’t fallen off the stool.
The girl wipes her hands on the front of her simple dress and reaches up for one of the many pendants around her neck with shaky hands. “Do you want to meet me in the back?” Her voice goes high, and she glances to the left, where there’s a single door.
I plant my hand on the bar and lift myself over the counter, landing on the sticky floor right next to the young witch. Her eyes are wide, but she just nods again and mutters a quick, “Okay then,” and turns to head through a doorway leading to the back.
The ground shakes when Egan lands behind me, which makes the girl hunch her shoulders, but she keeps walking.
Modeus must take the door she offered, because he meets us in a small, grungy kitchen. “You work here alone?”
The witch’s head bobs when she swallows thickly. “Not all the time. Joni couldn’t make it in tonight, one of her kids is sick.”
“Do you need to lock up?” I gesture toward the front.
“Nah, there are wards…” She trails off and closes her eyes slowly as if she said too much.
“Does Melva already know we’re here? I don’t like wasting my time or effort.” My tone is flat and unfriendly.
“Someone probably told her by now,” the girl admits, wringing her hands together.
I stop in my tracks. I don’t know if I want to make her come to me, or if I want to go to their den so I can see for myself what they have been up to.
“Get a message to her. She has five minutes to meet me, or every witch in the coven will need to reapply for the opportunity to stay in my territory.”
“I’ll c-call her,” she stutters.
“You do that.”
“I need to speak with the high priestess,” she says urgently after bringing the phone to her ear. “The Obsidian Angels are here and wish to speak with you now, madam. She wishes for you to meet her here in” —the girl looks at me briefly— “about four minutes and thirty seconds.” Smart girl. There’s a brief pause before her eyes widen, and then she whispers to me, “She wants to know whom she will be meeting.”
“The president,” I grit out, even though I shouldn’t need to answer her question. She should answer to anyone in the club.
The girl repeats my response and seems to hunch in on herself while doing so. “Four minutes,” I intone loudly enough for the person on the other end of the line to hear.
The girl pulls the phone away from her ear, but she doesn’t meet my eyes when she says, “She’s on the way.”
“What is your name?” I question.
