Page 39 of Rogue Witch

I frown. “I don’t have to pretend.”

“Average Margiddians don’t command fire with such ease. I’m guessing you’re a dragon…or perhaps Fae.”

“Just an average Margiddian who likes to play with fire.”

Mushussu’s gives me another shake. My brains are bouncing off the inside of my skull.

“An average Margiddian who can curse in ancient Sumerian. Ngish dug,” Hazel adds the last in a whisper.

I curse inwardly. I rarely lose my temper. “Why did you bring me here?” I demand.

“To find out why you came in disguise,” she responds.

“That’s no reason to threaten to kill me. For all you know, I don’t want my mate to know I’m stepping out on her.”

“Then I suppose this is the last time you’ll step out on her.” She turns and walks around behind the bar.

Talking is a waste of time. I thumb the top off my ring and ram the ring into Mushussu’s ribs with all my might. The spot where the faery water makes contact with his scaly hide sizzles and steam rises like a small tornado from the wound. The creature shrieks and his tail loosens around me. The press of magic wavers. I yank my right leg up and seize the switchblade from my boot.

“No!” Hazel shouts.

I flip open the blade, cut Mushussu’s tail, and drop to the carpet as Hazel reaches us, a bottle of liquor in hand.

“Enlil,” I shout. “Come. Now.”

The Mesopotamian god of the atmosphere and ruler of the skies and earth appears in a roar of wind and stinging rain, spear in hand. The beard that reaches to his bare chest whips in the wind and the hem of the loincloth wrapped tight around his hips snaps against his knees.

Mushussu bellows. I jump to my feet as Enlil thrusts his spear through Mushussu’s belly. The dragon crashes to the carpet. The wind and rain cease, and I rake back the soaked hair plastered against my face. The unconscious man stirs.

Hazel backs away from the god, the bottle she grips held out before her. “I’ve changed my mind”—her eyes cut to me—“I prefer you live—as my slave.” She yanks the top off the bottle and a Shadow emerges.

My heart picks up speed. The thing glides toward me. Enlil is immune to Shadows. I am not. No more magic for me.

I will my pounding heart to slow and, with one eye on the Shadow that hovers five feet from me, I command the god in a calm voice, “Kill her.”

Enlil looks from her to me, then says in Sumerian, “I am no killer of women.”

Bollocks.

Satisfaction floods Hazel’s expression and her eyes narrow on me. “Once I discover the man beneath the disguise, I will find those you love and kill them slowly.”

Enlil frowns. “A merciless woman?” He rakes his gaze down her body. “A beautiful woman.” He steps toward her.

She retreats and shouts, “Il’gis, I command you to appear!”

The floor in front of her opens and a tall, lean man with one long, dark braid that reaches to his naked arse appears. The ground closes beneath him and he looks from Enlil to me, then hesitates. The vampire demon and I have met. If he recognizes me, there will be a bloodbath.

His gaze sharpens, but he turns his attention to Hazel and says, “Why am I here, witch?”

“Protect me,” she orders.

Enlil takes two quick steps toward her. Il’gis hisses and shifts into bat form, but not quickly enough to avoid the back of Enlil’s hand. The bat is thrown across the room and crashes into the wall in his human form. Hazel screams and throws her hands up as the god scoops her up, then disappears.

I whirl to face Il’gis, who now stands, eyes locked on me. “So, we meet again, Fae.”

There are few things I fear. Even an ancient Fae like me understands that Il’gis is a being to be respected. The man I’d knocked out when I’d thrown Hazel onto him pushes to a sitting position. His wide eyes lock onto Il’gis. The Shadow inches toward him. The man shoots a sideways glance at the Shadow and fear fills his eyes.

The demon looks from him to the charred man, then to me and says, “I see you still like destruction.”