Page 8 of The Bonds of Indigo

“I didn’t sneeze…”

“Sounded like it.” I can’t help but scoff. “Then you’re making up words.”

“Aren’t you super old? Shouldn’t you know about this stuff?” Again, he sounds very frustrated with me.

Can’t imagine why…

“Yldarwrights. I’ve never heard—wait. Is it that reality show that plays on ESB Global? I could never get into it.”

It’s like I can feel the frustration rolling off of his tongue when he seethes, “You’re wasting my time.”

“Nah, you like to be questioned. Always talking without actually saying anything useful.”

“A Witch, Butcher. A fucking Witch.”

Alright, now that he says that I do recall them having different subspecies of themselves like us Vampires do.

“I know you’re dying to give me a small history lesson, so go for it.” My gaze had shifted away from the couple, but when I return they are moving through the crowd and coming toward me.

Oh, I’m definitely getting my dick wet tonight.

“There are two categories of Witches: Hexborn and Yldarwrights. The former are, in a way, modern Witches⁠—”

“Do we call the men Warlocks?”

“No…” he grumbles. “There were Necromancers once, but they died out a millennia ago. I’d classify them under the Witch spectra—but now I’m getting away from the point. Don’t interrupt me.”

I bite my lip as the Mundane woman steps between my legs. Before she can speak, I raise a hand and tap my earpiece, drawing her gaze to it. Then I crook a finger, wordlessly inviting her closer.

“Continue, I’m listening.”

“Modern Witches make up most of their population, I’d say ninety-nine percent. You, of course, will want to find the one percent. A Yldarwright.”

He pauses, which gives me a chance to ask, “What’s the difference? They both use magic, right?” I straighten from the bar, letting my height cast a shadow over the woman. My gaze slides past her shoulder to the man behind her, his dark skin equally as flawless as hers, and he’s got some gorgeous hazel eyes I want on me while he’s sucking my dick.

“Yldarwrights are far more powerful, and they connect directly with Vendra, who is one of the Divine Twelve. She governs life’s bounty, and is known as Earth’s eternal hand. Or, what mortals like to call her, Mother Nature.”

I draw my hand up the curve of the girl’s voluptuous hips while moving the opposite behind her to grab the male and sandwich her between us. “What does her connection to a Goddess matter to me? I’m trying to get to Belial. Wouldn’t that take me in the opposite direction?”

The two in front of me are quite drunk. Even if they could comprehend this one-sided conversation, I plan to leave them so blissed out from blood loss they’ll forget everything but how I’ve fucked them to another planet.

“I’m no expert, but as I’ve said on countless occasions, Gods and Demons are cut from the same cloth. If a Yldarwright can open the pathway to the Vayl, I imagine they can do the same to the Beyond. Look, I’ve given you what you asked, please for the love of Serynne, stop calling me.”

The Mundane female leans in and starts moving her hands up my shirt. The touch of her warm fingers has me groaning.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Last question, then I need to go.”

“You aren’t fucking someone with me on the phone, are you? I swear to⁠—”

“If I was, you’d know it and wish you were with me. Now, where can I find a Yldarwright?”

I swear he shouts, “I am not your dog. Why would I know that?!”

My grin turns feral, fangs flashing as I bare them at the girl. She doesn’t flinch. Perfect. She’s definitely getting bit first. “You always have more than what you let on, Alaric. I don’t want to ask again. If you were a Yldarwright, where would you be?”

“I know of one, and it’s only because it was a hot-fucking-topic⁠—”