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It wasn’t all the adrenaline—I could handle myself—it was an excuse I thought she’d buy. As I spoke, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the leather-bound tomes on the surrounding bookshelves were watching us.
“Okay,” she said weakly, her gaze darting nervously to the shadowy corners of the room. “I am a witch, but I didn’t do anything to you, I swear.”
“Forget it.” My voice cut through the tension as I moved on. “What’s your boss’s name?”
“Ivan.” Her reply was a breath, barely audible over the faint whispers from the walls.
“He’s powerful?” I asked, leaning forward. The table’s purple velvet covering brushed against my arms.
She nodded, her face shifting in the mercurial light, accentuating the fear in her eyes.
“What do you know about that power? Our best chance is if I know everything.” As I spoke, the crystal ball on the table crackled, as if reacting to the significance of our conversation and breaking further apart.
“He has a wraithshade.”
“Shit,” I muttered.
“And an enchanted tattoo that helps him store the fear-based mana…” she continued, her fingers absently tracing one of the strange symbols etched into the table’s surface.
“A what now?” My surprise caused me to shift in my chair. The floorboards creaked ominously beneath me, amplified by the room’s unnatural acoustics.
She nodded, grimacing at the ghastly admission.
“How?” I pressed, acutely aware of the temperature rising again as I leaned closer.
“I figured out how to enchant the ink with charging and storage capacity.”
“Why would you do that?” My eyes were drawn to the dull silver bell on the table, half-expecting it to rise into the air and ring of its own accord in this unsettling room.
She batted her eyelashes, the candlelight reflecting the depths of sarcasm coming my way, and made no bones about how stupid I sounded. “I’m not sure if you heard the part where I explained that he owns me?”
As she spoke, the room seemed to react, the air growing heavier and the darkness in the corners deepening, as if emphasizing the gravity of her situation.
I huffed, appreciating the snark, my cock twitching under my jeans. “Yeah, I did.” My voice was almost swallowed by the oppressive air. “So he’s running around here right now, getting stronger with all the fear floating around.”
“Yep.”
“We better get to it. Every second we waste makes it harder to stop him.” As I spoke, the strange symbols etched into the floorboards seemed to pulse faintly, as if emphasizing the urgency of our situation.
“I know.”
“Don’t worry. We just have to find him, and then you can leave it to me.” As she pressed her lips together, her features shifted with the stuttering flame. I raised an eyebrow, and she turned away, her gaze falling on the broken crystal ball swirling with mist. She was holding something back. It was all over her face. “What aren’t you telling me?”
She didn’t answer. The room seemed to hold its breath, the silence broken only by the faint creaking of the old floorboards. I cocked my head. “What’s your name?”
“Tess.” Her voice echoed slightly in the eerie chamber.
“Tess, you have to trust me, okay? We’ll get him. He’ll pay for what he’s done. But you have to tell me everything.” As I spoke, the temperature in the room dropped further, making me suppress a shiver.
Tess hesitated, her eyes darting to the shadowy corners of the room as if checking for unseen listeners. Finally, she leaned forward, her voice subdued: “I had a vision, and it wasn’t you killing him. It was me.”
As she uttered these words, the candles flared wildly. The crystal ball on the table between us swirled more vigorously, as if reacting to the weight of her admission.
My eyebrows rose skyward. “A vision? Is this normal for you?”
She nodded, the motion causing her chair to creak. “Unfortunately.”
“You see the future?” I asked, excited by the revelation.
