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The witch puts up a good front. I almost believe she’d use the stake against me. If she’s that determined, she might even get a few good swings in. Not that she’d do any actual damage.
“Believe it or not, darlin’, we’re your rescue team.”
It’s a good thing I’ve fed well recently, or I wouldn’t be able to resist her intoxicating aroma. My fangs poke into my lip, extending against my will.
Why does she smell so enticing?
“Rescue? Ha! Out of the frying pan and straight into the inferno from hell.”
Even after whatever the wolves put her through, there’s a fire within this woman. She’s a fighter.
I chuff and shift my stance. “You’d rather I leave you here with the werewolves?”
“I’m done with the supernatural tourism, thanks. So, unless you’ve got a shuttle out front ready to take me down Bourbon street, I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“How’d you know? My driver is waiting to take us there now.” I hook a thumb towards the stairs. “Let’s bounce.”
Josephine levels me with a glare that reminds me of Fintan when I try to joke around with him.
Well, I think I’m funny.
I sigh. “Come on. We both know you’re as powerless as a human with that thing locking down your magic.” I point to my neck, and the witch’s lip turns up in a smirk.
“Actually,” Josephine says, her demeanor changing as she straightens to her full height. “I’m not as powerless as you or the wolves think.”
I blink and something shifts. The thick, magic-inhibiting collar is no longer around her neck, but lying on the desk, the hinge dented and hanging loose with a crystal paper weight next to it.
“Well, good for you. Unfortunately, rock might beat scissors, but vampire still beats witch. Now if you come easy, me and my friends will—”
The Dumont witch throws up a hand and catches me off guard, knocking me back with a force so strong it sends picture frames clattering to the floor in a splash of glass shards.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She breathes heavily as she steps closer and peers over at me lying on the floor.
“You don’t have much of a say in that, sugar. Conscious or not, you will be leavin’ here with me.”
The spell took a lot out of her. I doubt she had much juice to begin with after spending time with the werewolves. It probably took everything in her just to survive until now.
Still, there’s a fire in her eyes that says she’s not coming with me without a fight.
If it wasn’t mid-afternoon and there wasn’t an all-out battle being waged downstairs, I would wait it out and let her run herself dry.
As it is, Sebastian and Finn yell that another group of wolves has come as backup. It’s in everyone’s best interest to speed things along.
I flex my hand to test the strength of the spell holding me immobile against the hardwood and find that I’m not all that immobile after all.
Josephine’s lack of magical stamina makes it easy to break from her invisible hold. Though, like she did with her illusion, I keep up the charade and wait for the opportune moment.
She edges around the room, coming closer, thinking she’s in the clear with me locked down in her immobilization spell.
Not quite, witch.
She slides past me, and I make my move, catching her easily before she reaches the doorway.
Her chest collides with mine—or, more accurately, her face. The top of her head barely reaches my collarbone. I hadn’t noticed before how small she was compared to my bulk.
The splintered point of the broken chair leg jabs through my shirt and into my chest. It’s barely enough to pierce the skin but certainly enough that my blood oozes out of the wound and over Josephine’s trembling fist.
My grip around her middle tightens, pulling her closer. She’s as delicate as a bird’s hollow bones. I am acutely aware of how easily I could crush her.
