Page 113 of Bad Witch

“Fender?”

Not Tempest. “Mags, I need to keep the phone free⁠—”

“I’m at Tempest’s place, well, outside her door. You need to come. Now.”

Snatching up my keys, I started running. “What’s happened? Is she hurt?”

“I’ve been knocking, but she’s not answering. I tried to call again, and I heard a phone ringing in the back of the shop next door. It was the ringtone Tempest uses, and…”

“And what?” I pounded through the clubhouse, trying not to fall on my ass as pain shot through my leg. Roman spotted me and followed.

“I found a body, an old woman,” Mags said. “It’s really bad, Fen. There’s no sign of Temp. Something’s happened to her, I can feel it.”

I snarled. “On my way.”

“Where are we going?” Roman asked, swinging onto his bike beside me.

“Temp’s place.”

A moment later, we were speeding out onto the street.

At the speed we were going, we halved the time getting there. Magnolia and Bram were waiting out in front. Swinging off my bike, I ran as best as I could with the state my leg was in. The pain was bad, I’d done too much, and it was protesting. I wanted to fucking roar.

I stormed into the back of the shop and was instantly hit with the scent of sickness and death.

“What is that scent?” Roman said. “Under the other shit. I’m getting something. Something powerful.”

“Disease.” My gut twisted. “It has to be him.” I shoved my fingers through my hair. “Why? Why would he come here?” I stormed out of the store and pounded on Tempest’s apartment door, calling her name.

Nothing. Not a fucking sound.

“It’s not warded,” Magnolia said, frowning as she placed her hand on the wooden surface.

Which made it easier for me. “Fuck this,” I snarled. She could be in there hurt. I slammed my shoulder into the door, knocking it off its hinges. It flew back, hitting the floor with a loud bang, crashing down on concrete. There was no apartment. We were standing at the entrance of an old cold-storage room: concrete walls, windowless, and barely bigger than our walk-in freezer at the clubhouse.

It took me a moment to register what I was looking at. “What the fuck is this?”

Magnolia stepped forward, getting a better look. “Oh wow…shit.” There was an odd note to her voice.

Mags knew things I did not when it came to Tempest, things she’d been unwilling or unable to tell me when I’d followed Temp to that house the week before when she’d vanished into thin air. “What is this?”

Her gaze darted from me, to the small dark, empty room and back. “It’s not for me to⁠—”

“Tempest is my mate,” I bit out. “We are mated.”

Her eyes flared.

“Something has happened to my mate, Mags. I need to know what you do, and I need to know now.”

Bram stood behind her, and his hands went to her shoulders. “If you know something, baby, you need to tell him. If you were missing, I’d fucking lose my shit.”

Mags leaned back into her mate as her gaze returned to me. “Tempest is…special. Among us witches, she’s known as the Matilda.”

Matilda? I’d heard the name when we were at the blue cliffs. Brigid had said it, and Tempest had tried to deny it. She’d also gotten defensive when I’d seen that image of Matilda in one of Brigid’s books at the clubhouse. “What does that even mean?”

“She is in a coven of many, but there is ever only one living member at a time. The Matilda communes with the spirits of those who came before her, and she is tasked with one job: protecting those who can’t protect themselves.”

My head jerked back. “Protect? How?”