Anna's Hope Episode One

  Chapter 5

  Anna had been to some dark places before. She'd worked in Vale, for one, and that place was well known for its seedy, shady establishments.

  But this ... this was worse.

  As she and Meredith walked their way into the bar (Meredith technically glided), Anna couldn't contain her swallow. She gulped like a fish coming across a sudden shark, or bar-full of sharks.

  Every single patron sitting in this murky, dingy pub looked ... dark.

  There was a vampire sitting on a barstool to her left, drinking something that smelt suspiciously like real blood.

  To her right, she passed a bona fide banshee, staring at its empty drink with pale white irises tinged with red capillaries - a sign of tension from a life spent screaming at the top of your lungs, no doubt.

  If the patrons weren't bad enough, the wait staff was worse. There were two burly looking magicians behind the bar, serving drinks from bottles with so many runes written over the glass it was a surprise the liquid inside didn't boil and shoot out in a giant shot of glittering steam.

  Even though Anna had worked for several months as a police witch, and she had come across mini little hell holes like this before, she'd always had backup.

  She'd never been following a leather-clad lascivious bounty hunter, either.

  “Let's get a drink,” Meredith suggested in a low and sultry voice that made every man - human or not - turn and stare at her.

  While Meredith was decked out in the tightest leather this side of a dominatrix conference, Anna was in the same old drab clothes she usually wore: an ankle-length blue skirt and a neck-high overly lacy blouse that looked like something Liberace would pass on for being too over the top. She also had a pair of sensible shoes and socks.

  She was not and never would be fashionable. Even if you threw away all the floral and lace in her wardrobe, it wouldn't work. Anna couldn't pull off stylish. She'd tried it before, and people just laughed at her.

  She had neither the body nor the personality. She was tall, willowy, and a little gaunt. Her skin was usually as pale as fresh milk, and her dull hazel eyes were often red-rimmed from her allergies. Her hair was this knotted curly mess of nondescript black. It wasn't pretty - it was awkward. Which summed her up perfectly.

  “Excuse me.” Meredith slid onto a bar stool, her leather pants somehow not sticking to it and causing her to fall off. “Two drinks please.”

  “What do you want?” The barman shifted his shoulder, indicating the splendid array of dark liquors behind him. Even though the lighting was suitably gloomy, Anna could still make out some of the titles written on the bottles. Blood of a Cat was a particularly worrying one. If Luminaria were here, she'd likely swat the magician, pour the bottle down the sink, and breathe on him with her tuna breath until he died.

  “What do we want? Hmm. Whatever you think we deserve,” Meredith replied cryptically. And sexily, very sexily. Every word that came out of her mouth sounded like satin slipping down skin.

  If her intended effect was to distract the barman, it was working. The guy cracked a smile, even though it looked like he had a permanent frown etched into his gaunt face. He leaned down on the bar and started to chat to Meredith.

  Not once did the guy glance Anna's way, not even to ask Meredith what on earth she'd brought with her.

  Anna sat awkwardly on the edge of her stool, shifting her head to the side as she again stared at the rest of the bar.

  According to Meredith, this would be easy. According to Meredith, the 'kingpin' would be sauntering around here somewhere, completely unaware there was a bounty out on his head, and completely unprepared for a leather-clad witch and her frumpy sidekick to take him down.

  Anna couldn't see the kingpin anywhere though, unless he was taking a really long time in the bathroom.

  Then again, she didn't know what he looked like. When she'd questioned Meredith about that, she'd said Anna would know him when she saw him. The guy had a dark magical vibe, apparently. Well, that was hardly a distinguishing feature - every single patron in this hellish bar had a dark vibe. It was kind of a requirement of entry. Those with angelic vibes didn't drink cat's blood next to banshees and gloomy vampires.

  Tuning out of Meredith’s conversation, Anna turned around on her chair, trying to get a better view of the far corner of the bar.

  The lighting over there was appalling. Though she understood that added to the overall ambience, it had to be an OH&S risk. Someone could and would trip, spilling their wine over another patron. Or they could stab the wrong person. Whatever constituted a humorous accident in a bar like this.

  It was while she was peering into the gloom that she saw something.

  There was a man sitting in a booth with his back pressed hard into the chair behind him and his legs rested on the table. It wasn't his excessively nonchalant behavior that caught Anna's attention - having your feet on the furniture probably wasn't a taboo here.

  No, it was the fact he felt ... different.

  There was one upside of having magical allergies. There was a bucket full of downsides, mind you - but occasionally her illness came in handy.

  She was exquisitely sensitive to different kinds of magics. Not only would she sneeze whenever she encountered the stuff, but depending on her symptoms, she could tell what type of magic was being practiced. Good magic tended to give her a runny nose and watery eyes. Bad magic gave her a blood-red heat rash and made her spine tingle as if spiders were growing in the bone.

  The guy in the corner wasn't bad. He was good. She could feel it. He wasn't practicing any magic at the moment, but he'd clearly practiced some recently.

  As her eyes started to water, she rubbed them with one hand.

  The guy was wearing a pair of thick pants and a nondescript grey top. His boots were enormous, and clearly made for climbing up mountains or surviving mudslides. He wasn’t decked in the usual array of black velvet and leather you saw in places like this.

  Just like her, he didn't fit in.

  She tilted her head to the side as she tried to get a better look at him.

  If she had to, she'd bet he was another bounty hunter just like her. Why else would a good guy come to a bar like this?

  Anna pressed her lips together and wondered if he was after the same bounty she was.

  There was every possibility he wasn't. Just one look around this bar confirmed every single patron had something to hide. There was likely a bounty out on all of them.

  “Are you coming, or what?” Meredith said pointedly as she looped a firm hand around Anna's arm.

  “Sorry, what?” Anna lurched around on her stool, realizing she'd zoned out so badly she hadn't heard a word of what Meredith had said.

  “Are you coming? Our friend here has some fabulous wine he wants us to try. It's out back,” Meredith added.

  Anna's gut reaction was to say “hell no” at the top of her lungs. Go out back with a dark magician like that, and you'll wind up bled dry for his next vampire customer.

  She had to stifle her common sense here, though, as she was on an operation. Or at least a semblance of one.

  While Anna had always assumed she'd been an appalling police witch, maybe that wasn't entirely true. Something had rubbed off on her during her stint in Vale - the importance of good procedure. If you wanted to keep a city safe - especially one as murky as Marchtown - you had to have a set of rules in place. You had to know exactly how to deal with different types of crime, and you had to stick to those procedures. Over time, you modified and improved them, until you had a rulebook.

  Marchtown didn't have a rulebook though, and nor did its bounty hunters. They looked exactly like the kind to tear pages out of rulebooks to light cigarettes with.

  “Are you coming?” Meredith said one last time, shooting Anna a very specific look. It was the kind of look that told her that unless she got her butt off that stool, she'd be kicked off.

  “Yep,” Anna squeaked as she jumped down.

  By the
time she shuffled past the bar to join Meredith and the magician, the bounty hunter in the corner was gone.

  Though she craned her neck to stare right into the far corner of the room, she couldn't see a trace of him, nor his massive action boots.

  Before she could wonder how he'd disappeared so quickly, Meredith waved her forward with a sharp cough.

  Anna followed.

  As soon as they walked through a dark doorway into an equally dark hall, she started to feel her allergies kick up.

  A nasty red rash was rising up her chest, and the tingling in her back was so bad she had to squirm as she walked.

  Yep, they were about to encounter some seriously dark magic.

  Meredith's stiletto heels clicked along the floor, sounding like nails being driven into the wood with every step. She was a decent enough witch that she'd be able to feel the dark vibe, but the woman looked as confident and calm as ever.

  How did she do it? Anna thought briefly to herself.

  While Meredith was strutting forward into what was obvious to everyone was a trap, Anna could barely hold it together. Her hands were sweaty, her heart was a fragile beating mess, and her tingly spine was killing her.

  Before she could turn around and run back to the bar, they arrived at the backroom.

  It was more of a side room, technically - as the long corridor continued beyond them.

  She wasn't in the mood to point that out though.

  The magician pushed his hand into the door, and it creaked like a gravestone coming to life. It sent such a shot of nerves pulsing down Anna's back, it was a surprise she didn't fry herself.

  “So where's that wine, sugar?” Meredith purred to the magician as he led the way into the room.

  It was dark in here. Like really dark. There wasn't a window throwing light in from the street. And whatever bare illumination made it in from the hall stopped at the door.

  “So,” the magician said, voice dripping with menace.

  Oh hell, Anna thought.

  “Yeah?” Meredith asked, voice still light even though they were in a dark room with a magician who'd just said so with all the glee of the damned.

  “We're all out of wine, ladies,” the magician said.

  There was a flicker of light. Said light came from the magician's hand as he brought up a candle.

  In an ordinary non-magical situation, bringing a candle to a fight was pretty funny. When a magician was the one holding the candle, however, all humor curled up and died.

  The specific kind of candle the guy held tightly in his white-knuckled grip made Anna gasp. It was a caller candle.

  It didn't grab your phone and start dialing numbers in a panic. No, it simply sent out a message on all dark magical frequencies, attracting whatever may come.

  It was the kind of candle you brought if you were suitably evil and wanted to call some friends around, but you were too cheap to pay for a text.

  Once lit, the candle would summon every demon, ghost, ghoul, or plain bad dude to your abode in a heart's beat.

  The one good thing about the candle was it threw some light into the room.

  It was enough to see Meredith's pallid expression. While she had a hand squeezed behind her back, a few licks of blue-white magic collecting up her fingertips, she didn't act.

  “My friends will be here shortly, witch,” the magician snarled, “so I wouldn't bother attacking. I'd save your magic. It might buy you a few more minutes of your worthless little life.”

  Meredith stared darkly at the man, her once attractive face contorting with anger. “Where the hell did you get a candle like that?”

  “I borrowed it off a friend. A powerful one. One who has no use for a meddling little bounty hunter like you.” The Magician’s lips curled so hard against his teeth, it looked like they’d shatter the enamel.

  Despite the danger of the situation, Anna had just enough spare brainpower to think 'ha'.

  She was in the room too, but the magician was acting like it was just Meredith.

  Was Anna that invisible?

  “Oh my, can you hear it? It’s coming for you.” The magician smiled. The kind of smile that would see any person locked away for life. It had all the creepy of Jack Nicholson combined with the frantic energy of a wasp honing in on its target.

  It was exactly the kind of smile you ran away from, not toward.

  Meredith clearly didn't know that lesson, though, as she pushed forward and rammed her shoulder into the magician.

  There was a scuffle, and the candle fell to the ground. Even though it rolled all the way to the opposite side of the room, it kept burning. That was no normal wax, and it was no normal flame. Both were being sustained by the magician’s power. The only way to snuff the candle out would be to snuff the guy out too.

  Anna had to help. Pushing the pain of her burning, tingling skin to the back of her mind, she ran forward.

  She didn't get far.

  Something landed outside the open window.

  There was a scratch of claw on glass and a rustle as something moved past the wood.

  The blood drained from her face in a heartbeat, just as a flash of heat burst up her back.

  A demon was in the room.

  She knew it was a demon, not only because her allergies were going into overdrive, but because she heard the specific whoosh as its black web wings unfolded.

  Before Anna could think, she reached Meredith, hooked a hand over her arm, and yanked her to the side.

  Though Anna was quite thin and hardly a muscle-bound witch, she managed to muscle Meredith out of the way.

  Just in time.

  The demon's tail lanced out of the darkness with all the speed of a bullet.

  It swooshed past her hair, ruffling it and sending it tangling over her eyes.

  Meredith, despite her towering heels, punched to her feet and ran towards the demon.

  Not away, towards. What was this woman on?

  Before Anna could push to her feet to offer a hand, somebody pulled her back.

  It was the magician. Showing speed that belied his gaunt form, he looped a spidery arm around her throat and yanked her towards him. “Let her deal with that. You can come with me,” he offered.

  Anna yelped. She instinctively shoved her shoulder back, pulling her torso forward as she tried to ram her way free from his grip.

  Though the guy let out an “ooph,” he didn't let her go.

  So Anna Hope Summersville did some magic.

  It was honestly something she tried to avoid. If sensing magic was bad for her allergies, practicing it was havoc.

  Whenever she called up the raw potential in her veins, it felt like her blood turned to acid. So much pain accompanied any display of her own power, that Anna only ever did it when she had to.

  Now, she absolutely had to.

  Magicians didn't practice magic like wizards, and to be honest, weren't usually as powerful. It took a true master to learn the intricacies of magicianhood, and most boys didn't have enough brain on their shoulders.

  Anna balled her hand into a fist and sent magic rippling up her wrist and into her palm and fingers.

  Though an ordinary witch could throw a fireball without so much as a grunt, Anna felt it - every damn spark - as if her skin really was on fire.

  With a massive half-grunt half-scream any body builder/ action hero would be proud of, she rammed her fire-riddled hand into the magician's chest.

  He crumpled, the surging magic leaping over his black shirt, and burrowing between the buttons and weave until it sunk into his skin.

  Singed flesh wrought the air as the guy lost his grip on her, stumbled, and staggered to one knee.

  Anna had just enough light and time to note his expression. He looked at her with clear surprise slackening his cheeks and widening his pale brown eyes.

  He hadn't thought she could do that, right?

  A lot of people were surprised by her power. Just because she had allergies, it didn't mean she couldn't practice m
agic. Nor did it mean she was weak.

  It was true that the stronger the spell, the more it hurt her - but that didn't mean she didn't have the power and prowess to practice it.

  Because of her allergies, Anna had been forced to put more effort into learning magic than your average witch. She'd studied extremely hard to find a way to practice that didn't leave her as a puffing, blotchy, itchy mess on the floor.

  Some would ask - considering her condition - why she'd never quit and sought out a mundane life instead.

  The answer was simple: her heirloom contract.

  It wouldn't let her. Luminaria von Tippit's agreement with the Summersville family forced each member to look after Luminaria in every way they could. If Luminaria got into trouble, and Anna somehow held back on protecting her, she'd wind up very broken and very sore.

  She couldn't hold her magic in reserve, not when it meant not doing everything within her power to help Luminaria.

  Also, to be honest, Anna couldn't give magic up. Even though it clearly hated her, and her body even more, she couldn’t turn away from it.

  For a girl like her - one as drab and plain with as boring prospects - magic was the one thing she could hold onto. Okay, she wasn't the best witch out there, but she was a witch. And that meant something.

  So she'd stock up on hankies, eye drops, and cooling cream, and she'd keep being a witch.

  Well, she would if she could get out of here.

  Just as the magician fell to his other knee, she saw him reach a hand around his back.

  She could feel dark magic. Her allergies flared as it ate through the room.

  Though the calling candle was still on the opposite side of the room, the magician suddenly made it blaze.

  She snapped her head towards it, the blaze of light like a small bomb going off in the corner.

  The magician had one second to look up at her, his eyes narrowing in dark delight, before he jerked back and ... disappeared.

  He didn't fall, roll, and quickly hide behind a handy couch. Nor did he lurch up to his feet and dash for the door.

  No, in a flash of dark magic, he was gone.

  It was some kind of transportation spell, one that left the air heavy with a dark, pulsing energy.

  Anna pressed a hand into her chest, pain shooting through her ribs and down into her back.

  Her skin would be bright red from the insidious rash climbing her chest and neck, and her limbs tingled so much it felt like they'd detached themselves and plunged into a pool of ants.

  Magical allergies usually only resulted in mild discomfort in the presence of irritants. Sometimes, and with some people, they could become exquisitely severe.

  While Anna wasn't about to collapse from anaphylactic shock, she was feeling less of the so-called discomfort right now, and more of the abject agony.

  There was something different about the magic that magician had just cast. Something she'd never encountered before, and something that was sending her allergies haywire.

  Despite the fact she was sure her muscles were on fire, she forced herself to turn.

  Just as she reached Meredith, the bounty hunter managed to dispatch the demon by roundhouse kicking it to the face with a flaming, magical heel.

  The demon, suitably put out, gave a blood-curdling cry and crammed himself back out of the window, metaphorical tail between his legs.

  Meredith pushed back a non-existent stray hair from her perfect soft curls, struck a pose, and smiled. “Nothing like a demon fight to get your blood pumping. Are you alright? Did that loser get you?”

  Anna dropped her hand from her chest and took a calming breath. “I'm okay. But I'm sorry to say we lost him - he disappeared. It was ... weird. He practiced a kind of magic I've never seen before.”

  “What do you mean? I would have thought you'd come across plenty of magicians in Vale?”

  “It's not that. He didn't practice magic like a magician. It was ....” She trailed off as she stared around the room, looking for inspiration to describe her confusing thoughts.

  It was then that she noticed the candle was still burning.

  In fact, as she stared at the flame, she realized something.

  It wasn’t a normal caller candle.

  This feeling – the scratching, hot pain making its way through her ribs – it was coming off the candle, wasn’t it? Whatever strange magic the magician had practiced, he was still practicing it, because his caller candle was still lit.

  Wordlessly, she picked her way over to it.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Meredith fell into step behind her. “We should probably make our discreet exit the same way the demon did, before things get worse. I imagine our friends back in the bar heard our fight, and are on their way to lend a hand to the side of evil. Anna …?”

  She didn’t answer. The closer she came to the still-burning candle, the more her stomach knotted with nerves.

  Reaching it, she leant down, placed a hand next to but not on it, and brought her face level with the softly burning flame.

  This close, her blood felt like insects as it clawed its way through her body. This new magic was hell on her allergies.

  Still, she didn’t shift back. She locked her knees in place as she leaned on the dusty floor, and she concentrated.

  She may not be the best witch out there, but her ability to sense a vibe was second to none.

  “Ah, Anna? I think I can hear that vampire swooping down the corridor. Unless you’ve got some handy stakes tucked into your ankle-high frilly socks, I think we should leave.”

  Anna finally felt it. The tendril connecting the candle to its master. A trace of magic, so dark and evil, it made her back convulse with fear.

  She jerked up with a move that saw her bang her side against the wall.

  “Just leave the candle – we can’t snuff it out. But if we get out of here, it won’t matter. No one is going to care if a caller candle calls any more deadbeat evil goons to a deadbeat evil goon bar. Come on, Anna,” Meredith insisted, leaning down and latching a hand around Anna’s elbow.

  “Wait,” Anna managed, “he’s … he’s still in the building.”

  “What?”

  “That magician, he’s still in the building.”

  “I’m not going to ask how you know that, but it doesn’t matter – he’s not our target. Our target isn’t even here. And we shouldn’t be here either – seriously, that vamp is just around the corner. Oh, damn. Too late. He’s here.” Meredith spun on her pinpoint heels, bringing her hands up as she did. Blue magical flames licked high over her curled fingers, matching the mean glint in her eye.

  Anna was distracted. She shouldn't be - Meredith was right, and a vamp was literally right outside the door.

  Even though she could feel that, something about this new magic was distracting Anna. It wasn't just her allergies going nuts - it was ... it called to her.

  “On your feet, girlie,” Meredith snapped as she sent a warning shot at the door. As the magic dashed against the wooden frame, blistering the drab grey paint, it lit up a figure just beyond.

  A tall, spindly man in a swathe of black and blood-red velvet. Even without the fangs poking out of his thin lips, he was clearly a vamp. Everything from his slicked back grease-clogged hair, to the cape attached to his collar by a single blood-drop ruby screamed vampire. That, or a cos-player desperately trying to mimic a vampire. Because seriously, the costume was overdone.

  There weren't too many vamps in Vale. They didn't like places with strong magic. Places with strong magic tended to have too many wizards and witches sticking their noses into affairs and trying to maintain order.

  Your average vampire was at his or her best when they were the only one in a town or city. Lonely, but effective, they could prey on the unwanted and never missed, dispatching a township's homeless one by one until they moved onto another haunt.

  Wizards and witches tended to hate vampires - for very good reason. Not only did they hunt the innocent, but they could b
ring undue attention to magic. All you needed was a few dead bodies winding up in the river, bloodless and with two telling bite marks in their necks, and the mundane media would go nuts.

  Though Marchtown did have the MEC and its team of registered bounty hunters to keep law and order, it was clearly fragmented enough to make this city homely for your average vampire. Indeed, the very fact this guy was here, being so open about his identity with his pointy fangs and slicked-back hair, was all the evidence Anna needed that law enforcement in Marchtown didn't work.

  Not for the last time, she concluded crime like this just couldn't happen in Vale. Marchtown needed its own dedicated magical police force - not some disjointed bounty-hunting system.

  Anna wandered along with her thoughts, kind of forgetting about the fact a vampire was in the doorway.

  The slowly burning caller candle still held a peculiar hold on her. In its presence, though her allergies went wild, her mind felt foggy. It was as if she'd stumbled into a cloud.

  “Get up,” Meredith now roared as she sent a fireball slamming towards the vampire.

  The vampire, in true undead style, walked right through it.

  Though it could be perturbed by strong displays of magic, it was pretty much only a handful of garlic and a stake through the heart that could bring one down.

  Even a stake through the heart was unlikely to work these days; vampires had gone with the times somewhere around the '70s and now all wore body armor under their silky shirts. Inch-thick stab-proof Kevlar stood between their mythical hearts and any pointy sticks. And as for garlic, if you opened a window or sprayed a room with some refreshing spritzer, you could ward off the smell.

  “We need to hustle,” Meredith snapped, as she threw another fireball at the vampire to slow it down.

  Anna pushed herself up. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, but she pushed past the candle, breaking whatever hold it had on her.

  As she did, though it sounded odd, it felt as if something unwound from around her chest. As if some invisible grip faltered, its ghostly fingers dropping from her body and falling back into the shadows.

  She shook her head, cleared her mind, and rapidly realized how dangerous this was.

  Holy crap, there was a vampire in the doorway.

  Though the fear had never truly left her, now it leapt back into her heart and shook it like an earthquake.

  The guy took a step into the room, a shadow appearing from nowhere and dancing across his face, his eyes drawing dramatically wide as it did.

  Vampires were always over-the-top. Or at least a certain breed were. Clearly one dynastical line had watched too many ‘50s Hollywood horror movies, and now thought red velvet, capes, and posing dramatically by open windows was how a true vampire should behave.

  Meredith breathed hard through her teeth, the hiss echoing through the room.

  Anna didn’t need to see the tension locking Meredith’s slender form in place to know how bad this situation was.

  Just before she could wonder whether it could get worse, it did.

  From behind, near the vicinity of the window, there came a slow swoosh.

  Anna felt the dark magic before she turned her head and saw yet another vampire appear.

  Holy crap, this town was clearly infested. While that was good for the local fabric boutique, it was hell for everyone else.

  Even in Vale, home of magical law enforcement, the police would have been stretched thin with a double vampire attack. Here, now, there was only Anna and Meredith.

  Or so they thought.

  Before the vampires could circle them, cackling in a deep commanding tone, like Shakespearean actors gone bad, there was a skidding sound from the doorway.

  She turned in time to see a bolt of some description fly from a gun and slam into the closest vampire’s chest. Though the bolt wasn’t strong enough to make it through the Kevlar, once it struck, magic began to seep from it, blue-red lines snaking from the point of impact like fracture lines through glass.

  The vampire looked down, then up, his eyes drawing so wide it was like the rest of the skin on his face disappeared.

  Before the vampire from the window could act, another bolt sliced through the air and slammed into its chest. The same thing happened as bright, crackling magical lines burst from the bolt and ate into the vampire’s clothes.

  “Now,” a deep gravelly voice from the doorway said, “I don’t have a bounty out on you boys. But that don’t mean I won’t fire some more of these wooden bolts right through your chest if you don’t politely leave.”

  A man walked into view. First his camel colored massive boots struck the flickering light of the candle, then one large arm, then the side of his face.

  It was the guy from the bar. He really was a bounty hunter, clearly.

  He had sandy, shoulder-length hair tied behind the base of his head with a strap of leather. A kinked smile crumpled his clean-shaven chin, and two deep brown eyes narrowed in concentration as he levelled his modified gun at the closest vampire. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

  Without so much as a curse or a fangy hiss, the vampire whirled on the spot and turned into a bat. The guy clearly had been watching too many movies. He might as well have held the corners of his cape, covered his face, leaving only his glare visible as he muttered a shuddering, ‘I’ll be back mortal!’

  The other vampire did the same, and the two bats quickly made their exit via the open window.

  The bounty hunter lowered his gun, tapping a finger along the chamber as he leaned into the doorway. “So, you still in the business, Merry?”

  Meredith rolled her eyes, planting her hands on her hips as she glared his way. “Yes, I am Scott. I go to the same damn MEC meetings you do. Now what are you doing on my case?”

  “I’m not on your case. As usual, I’m after something bigger.” He brought his gun up and used it to brush a stray hair from his face.

  Maybe Anna had been working with cops too long, but her eyes bulged at the move. Seriously, the guy had just used a modified magical gun to neaten his hair.

  “Ha,” Meredith snorted, tipping her head back as her soft curls played down her back and shoulders, “as usual, you’re an ass.”

  Scott chuckled, scratching at his neck. “An ass that just saved you and your friend.” He nodded at Anna.

  Wow, he’d noticed her. Well, fair enough, she was standing a few meters from him, but men never noticed Anna, especially when a woman like Meredith was around.

  “We would have managed,” Meredith snorted.

  “Sure. After you’ve scarified your blood and magic to become a vampire. But hey, don’t let me tell you how to run your business.” Scott bowed.

  “Alright, idiot, just get out of our way. Actually,” Meredith stopped, “what is your target?”

  Scott put a hand up to his lips. “Bounty hunters don’t share. Plus, this one is way above your station. It’s best for you to return home to your little bar and leave the work up to the real hunters.”

  “Good god you wizards are all such dicks. Now get out of my way, Scott.” Meredith sauntered past him, her hair swaying with every tick-tock of her hips.

  Scott brought his hands back, gun still held in one, and offered mock surrender. “This is me getting out of your way, Merry. No, actually, this is me saving you. This,” he stepped back and swept a hand at the door, “is me getting out of your way. That being said, considering the particular clientele back there, don’t you think a bounty hunter of your caliber is better climbing out the window?”

  “How about I jam one of these heels up your ass?” Meredith offered.

  “I think I’ll pass. God knows where your heels have been.”

  Anna stood in the corner listening, watching, and barely holding back her surprise.

  These two were technically law-enforcement officers. They had a duty to uphold the good, and, well, be decent. If a police witch offered to stick her shoe anywhere other than on the floor, she’d be fired.
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  Lord, Marchtown sure was a different place.

  “Come on, Anna, it’s time to leave this joint. The company isn’t what I thought it was.” Meredith waved her forward.

  Anna wanted to leave. Heck, she’d never wanted to come. And yet, she couldn’t move.

  She turned her head back to the candle. It was dripping wax onto the dusty, scuffed floorboards, its flame dancing slowly in the breeze filtering in from the window.

  It was important. And dangerous. The magic that magician had practiced could be used for god knows what, but God knows it would be bad.

  Despite her better judgment, she leaned down and picked it up.

  She braced herself before she did, shoring up her stance to ensure any flare up of her allergies wouldn’t knock her off her feet.

  Scott stiffened, pulling away from leaning nonchalantly on the doorframe to stand cautiously, staring her way. “You want to be careful with that, Anna.”

  Careful?

  That was an understatement. With the amount of dark potential wafting off this thing with every flicker of the flame, she could fry her eyebrows. Oh, and likely kill herself.

  She took a slow swallow and let her fingers rest into the wax as she held it at arm’s length.

  Meredith turned to watch her curiously. Curiosity was far from Scott’s gaze – his eyes crumpled with genuine alarm. “You should put that down.” He motioned slowly towards the ground with an outstretched hand.

  Anna didn’t open her mouth to tell him she knew what she was doing – she didn’t know what she was doing.

  She had no idea why she’d picked this thing up and why she was now pushing her mind into the softly swaying flame, trying to connect to the magic that sustained it.

  She let her eyes half close.

  There.

  She could feel it again.

  Just as a rash of nerves exploded over her back, making her skin smart and prickle, she caught hold of the magical link that fed the candle.

  She jerked her eyes open. “He’s this way.” She began to walk towards the wall.

  “Ah, who’s that way?” Meredith asked. “That’s a wall, sweetie.”

  Anna walked towards the wall, her gaze fixated on a small, innocuous splash of white paint towards the skirting board.

  Scott fell into step behind her, but Meredith remained by the doorway, staring on, a confused expression crumpling her perfect brows. “Anna, hon, what are you doing?”

  “Jeez, for a bounty hunter, you sure know nothing about magic. She’s sniffing out the magical connection,” Scott explained.

  “To what?”

  “Not to what, to whom,” Scott said.

  Anna, half of her own free will, and half through compulsion, reached a hand out and pushed the flame against the speck of white paint.

  At first nothing happened. One second ticked by, then another.

  Just as she started to wonder what she was doing, something happened.

  The wall exploded in magical symbols. The dirty, mildew covered drab wallpaper burst away in a hiss, as fiery blue-white runes raced over the plaster.

  Sparks crackled and spat from the symbols, like hair thrown onto a fire.

  Meredith gasped, taking an audible step back on her sky-high heels.

  Though Anna wanted to jerk away, she couldn’t. Her hand kept pushing the candle against the wall, until the flame disappeared from the wick, its magic vanishing into the last of the runes with a long, drawn-out hiss.

  She dropped the candle, whatever compulsion that had forced her to hold it disappearing.

  She gasped and took a lurching step backwards, right into Scott’s firm chest. He settled a strong hand on her shoulder and anchored her in place. “Just take a breath; it’s not controlling you anymore.”

  “W-what just happened?”

  “I’ll explain in a second.”

  “What? Tell me now. I – what did I just do?”

  “I can’t tell you now – that wall’s about to explode.”

  On cue, the wall shattered. It didn’t detonate like a bomb going off, and neither did it break as if under some great pressure.

  No, it shattered like glass, cracking and tumbling to the ground in shards that sizzled with white-hot power.

  The broken wall revealed a set of stairs leading down. Despite the fact the wall was easily ten meters across, the stairwell was small enough that she could reach her arms out and touch both walls.

  Space was warping, twisting downward towards those dark steps.

  “Holy—” Meredith began.

  “This is where I leave you, ladies.” Scott walked past Anna. “Thanks for finding the door, Anna – it would have taken me all night. I’ll see you around.” With that, he tipped his head in a brief bow, toted his gun, and walked down the stairs.

  “Oh my god, it’s a travelling hell door,” Meredith stuttered – the very first time Anna had heard the bounty hunter display anything other than confidence or contempt.

  A travelling hell door was all in the name. It was a portal that could be summoned – with extremely strong dark magic – to take someone to whatever nefarious location they needed to get to.

  Anna had read about them, she’d never seen one. She’d certainly never stood on the brink of one, facing the brunt of its foul energy.

  It broke against her in wave after wave of dread. Though she was standing and breathing, she felt like she was drowning at the bottom of the darkest lake.

  Just before she could turn away, something happened. Something caught hold of her chest and pulled.

  It wasn’t a hand or a tail or a tentacle. She couldn’t see anything – she only felt a ghostly grip latch itself around her torso and wrench her forward.

  She stumbled down the stairs, managing to push into the wall to stop herself from free falling down the steps and breaking her neck.

  Before she could do anything she heard an ominous clap.

  The portal closed. The doorway back into that room and Meredith closing with it.

  Darkness swelled in around her, the only sound her beating heart as it industriously tried to hammer its way out of her constricted chest.

  She shook, her hand slicking with sweat as she used the wall for purchase, pushing into it until she stood on her shaky feet.

  “Oh my god,” she whimpered.

  The magician had been horrible, but manageable. This … this was ….

  She took a step down the stairs. She didn’t want to. Christ, she wanted to crumple to her knees and cry into her hands.

  Something was pulling her down, guiding her towards whatever lay at the bottom of this circular staircase.

  She wasn’t stupid enough to think it was her curiosity getting the better of her. It was the compulsion, it was back. Even though she no longer held the candle, her fingers stiffened as if its phantom was still in her hand.

  “Oh god, oh god,” she kept whining to herself as her footfall echoed down the stone steps.

  As she walked, and the staircase wound around and around, she came across the occasional window. Suddenly the darkness would be cut in half by a ray of the brightest moonlight.

  Which was pretty odd considering the moon was waning at the moment. Yet as she arched her head towards the long, slim window, she saw it was full, hanging in the sky like a luminescent crystal ball.

  The windows were too high to look down through. She could be in some tower that overlooked Marchtown, or she could be halfway around the world – she had no way of knowing.

  She kept walking down the stairs.

  Step after step, that grip around her chest tightened. It became hard to breathe, but she didn’t stop moving.

  Soon her echoing footfall stopped. She reached a door. It was heavy, large, and covered in runes. They glistened in the moonlight cutting through a window beside it, making the symbols dance in an eerie silver-grey glow.

  Anna was a good witch. She may not have been the strongest witch, but she did know how to handle herself around magic
al doors like this. The very last thing you wanted to do was touch them.

  So what was the very first thing she did? Touch it.

  She reached out a hand, let her fingers settle against the wood until the runes squirmed underneath her skin, and then she pushed.

  The door creaked open with all the portent of a flock of crows fleeing a cemetery.

  It opened to a room. A massive one. The bar may have been large, but if she needed any more evidence she wasn’t in it anymore, this was it.

  She walked forward into a chapel.

  It was carved from blocks of sandstone, their mottled creams and browns a soft warm palette.

  Along the wall, and right at the far end of the room, were stained glass windows. They were massive, majestic, and stunning. Rich blues, greens, golds, and reds lit up with the full-glow of the moon beyond.

  Lit torches were arranged around the walls, casting twirling patterns over the walls and floor.

  Anna, truly in a daze now, walked forward, her mouth slack, her arms loose by her sides, and her eyes out of focus as she stared at the wonder.

  She’d never been in a more beautiful place. It went beyond stunning – it did something to the mind.

  She walked forward, her long skirt swaying against her ankles with every languid step.

  The chapel stretched out before her, carved wooden pews neatly arranged along the walls.

  Though she didn’t realize it, she made her way towards the pulpit at the end.

  If her mind had been free from the fog encasing it, she would have stopped, turned, and run away with a hearty scream. She certainly wouldn’t have languorously walked up to the empty pedestal bathed in colored light shining from the massive stained glass window behind it.

  Anna patted a hand down her face sleepily, disturbing her hair and pushing it messily over her eyes.

  She didn’t care; she kept walking.

  All fear was gone. The panic that had punched through her when she’d first been pulled into this travelling hell portal had disappeared entirely.

  Now all she wanted to do was curl up under that lectern, under the light of the full moon, and fall asleep.

  She reached the pedestal, climbing the red-carpet covered stairs. She rounded the lectern, smiling sleepily at it.

  There was a book resting open on the carved wood.

  She saw the symbols, but she couldn’t recognize them.

  “I’m so tired.” She put a hand up to her head and blinked heavily.

  “Then you should sleep,” someone suggested from behind her.

  She had just enough energy left to turn around.

  A man was standing behind her. She hadn’t heard him walk up, nor was there a door through which he could have come.

  He was just there.

  That made enough sense to her tired mind that she didn’t immediately scream and throw the lectern at him.

  “I was only expecting one offering tonight,” the man admitted.

  He was a wizard. She might have been dead on her feet, but she could feel that.

  He wore blue jeans, a dark-blue t-shirt, and a biker’s jacket.

  She swayed on her feet, almost succumbing to sleep while inconveniently standing up.

  The guy tilted his head down to follow her move. He offered her a smile. Had she been sufficiently awake to notice, she would have realized it was the creepiest smile lips could be forced to make. “You look tired, Anna. You should sleep.”

  She kept her hand pushed into her head. “W-why am I here?”

  “You found me,” he chuckled lightly, “you sought out my magic, and you brought yourself here. I already have my sacrifice for tonight, but if you sleep through tomorrow, I’ll be ready for you then. What do you say, Anna? Aren’t you tired?”

  On the word tired, she swayed back, banging into the lectern. She struggled to keep her eyes open, let alone her feet on the ground.

  “W-who are you?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I … I ….” She fell to the floor, her limbs crumpling as the fatigue cut them down.

  The guy walked up to her. With one hand resting casually in his pocket, he looked down at her. He didn’t say anything, he just stared.

  Anna rested her head against the cold sandstone, her knotty hair tumbling over her face and covering her eyes.

  He leant down, his jeans creaking. She could feel him as he brushed back her hair. “You’ll make a good sacrifice. It was lucky you found us. But now it’s time to sleep, Anna. You won’t have to wake up again.”

  Sleep. Yeah, she wanted to fall asleep. Her whole body tingled with the urge to let go and drift off ….

  ….

  Anna suddenly coughed, sneezing herself awake.

  Her sneeze was so violent, she jerked back from the kneeling man and hit her head on the sandstone.

  It was also violent enough to wake her up. Not just from her impending slumber, but from the sleep spell itself.

  Her allergies kicked into gear. With a runny nose, bleary eyes, and a fantastic rash covering her hands and arms, she stared up at the guy above her. The creepy wizard who had just tried to put her to sleep and kept promising to sacrifice her tomorrow.

  Oh – my – god.

  Anna jerked back, slamming her foot into the guy’s knee as she tried to get to her feet.

  Her allergies had saved her life. If they hadn’t woken her up, she’d be ….

  The guy struggled forward, snapping towards her with all the pent-up energy of a cheetah pushing into a run.

  She scrabbled around the side of the lectern, her hands leaving sweaty prints on the dusty sandstone.

  The guy didn’t say anything. Not a word. He pushed around the lectern and snapped towards her.

  She didn’t have a weapon, but her hands instinctively grabbed the only thing they could find – the book – and she threw it at him.

  As soon as she snatched it off the lectern, a strange echoing crack wrought the air. It sounded like every stained glass window suddenly shattered, sending their mounds of glass tumbling to the stone floor.

  The wizard jerked backwards as if he’d been hit.

  Though Anna had woken up from a sleep spell, and her allergies were beyond intense, she realized what was happening.

  The wizard had been sustaining his spell through the book. By closing it, she’d broken the connection. Violently.

  He was stronger and faster than she was, but this gave her an opportunity.

  She lunged for the book. If she could get to it and keep it from his grasp, she could hamper him.

  The wizard, still confused and injured, stumbled back, then his eyes drew wide in panic. It was the first emotion other than cold hatred she’d seen him show.

  He snapped forward.

  The book had fallen behind a pew.

  She threw herself towards it, her fingers brushing the spine.

  He jumped right over the pew, landing on the wood and kicking it into her.

  Though it jammed against her outstretched arm, crushing her fingers, she managed to keep them pressing into the book.

  And that was all it took.

  With every scrap of determination and attention she could muster, she fought against her allergies, and blasted magic into every page. She didn’t have time for a well-thought-out spell. Instead, magic – undifferentiated and dancing in a whirl of sparks and flame – surged from her touch, dashing against the book and sinking into the cover.

  The man was right on top of her, ready to pull her back. But he stopped. His body jerked to the side as if it had been struck by a train. Off balance, he latched a hand onto his stomach and wheezed, stumbling into the very same pew he had kicked over, and toppling over it.

  Anna kept her hand outstretched. She kept her fingers pressed as hard as they could be, right into the front cover of that ominous red-spined tome. Squeezing her eyes shut, her lips curling flat in a grimace, she gave it everything she had.

  In a hail of whirling blue fire, finally it
exploded. The pages shredded, sending blazing magical symbols plummeting through the air, scattering against the sandstone and leaving great singe marks in their wake.

  The wizard shuddered back, just as he got to his knees, gave her a surprised look, then fell over.

  He was out cold.

  He’d clearly been using the majority of his power to sustain the spells enshrined in that magical tome. Which was curious. While a sleep spell was tricky, that wizard looked more than capable of casting one without too much effort.

  The fact he had keeled over after his book had been destroyed suggested he’d been sustaining other spells.

  Though Anna was buzzing (and itching) from the fight, she slowly pushed the pew from her hand, and stood. Cautiously she stared around the room.

  She could feel that same distinct dark magic gathering. It was seeping up from the tiny cracks between the flagstones and infiltrating its way through the gaps in the glass.

  She shuddered. Though her wrist and hand hurt from where the pew had fallen on them, she ignored the pain.

  Though she was human and didn’t have hackles, every hair on the back of her neck stood on end as a truly cold shiver shot up her spine.

  “Oh god, it’s not over,” she realized, just as the stone below her feet began to shimmer.

  She had managed to ward off the last effects of the sleep spell, so she knew she wasn’t dreaming here. The ground honestly was shifting and reflecting like a disturbed pool of water.

  She tried to jerk back, to find a patch of stone that still knew it was just that – stone, and not water. But she couldn’t. The whole floor of the chapel was transforming.

  With a sound like cracking glass, the floor shifted violently to the side. Anna already had weak legs from all her fighting and running, and she was easily thrown from her feet.

  Somehow, though the chapel was very much empty, she slammed into someone’s back, knocking them from their feet.

  She banged her chest hard on that same person’s equally hard chest. With a groan she looked up to see a very surprised, rugged, blond bounty hunter.

  “Anna?” Scott grabbed her shoulders and helped her up.

  If Anna hadn’t just been thrown sideways into what looked like an entirely different chapel, she would have appreciated she was currently in Scott’s arms. An ordinary, powerful witch would have taken the time to notice and indulge in the strong romantic undercurrents of falling into a burly wizard’s embrace.

  Anna just pushed herself up; her head was still swimming.

  Scott got to his feet, darting his head to the left and right as he clearly assessed her. “Where did you come from? Are you alright?” He helped her to her feet, then he latched a hand on her shoulder protectively as he turned and searched the room for something. “You need to get out of here, there’s a dark wizard—”

  “You mean that guy?” Anna pointed over her shoulder to the comatose wizard arranged over the broken pew.

  Though that strange rippling spell had transported Anna to another chapel entirely, fortunately it had brought the wizard and his broken pew with her. Once the guy was awake – and in custody – she was going to have some firm words with him about sacrificing witches under the full moon.

  She watched Scott close his mouth and shoot her an impressed look, one side of his lips kinking into a charming, rugged smile. “Wow. When I saw you hanging out with Merry, I thought you were the latest of her charity cases. She has a habit of hiring bounty hunters down on their luck, who couldn’t catch a dead wizard tied to a stake. She has this strange view that by giving them a job, she’ll help them out. The only thing it usually helps is to shorten their lives.”

  Anna gave an awkward, teeth-pressed smile.

  That would be her, alright. Down on her luck and pretty much incapable.

  Or maybe not entirely incapable. She had downed that dark wizard. She turned over her shoulder to stare at him again.

  “How did you get down here, anyway?” Scott brushed past her, leaned down, and checked the wizard. “And what did you do to this wizard? He’ll be out cold for the rest of the night.”

  Anna opened her mouth to explain. Before she could, she glanced past Scott and saw a comatose woman lying on the ground.

  “Oh, her. I saved her. It’s okay. That creep wizard was going to sacrifice her for some spell, but I got here just in time. Or maybe you did.” He shot her another impressed smile. “He’s my bounty, by the way. A tough catch. When he jumped through some portal, I thought I’d lost him. You found him, I guess.”

  She still didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Instead she brought her hand up and stared at it. Her skin was going bright red. As she stared at it, her back trembled as a serious case of pins and needles impaled every muscle and joint. “Oh dear.” She swallowed.

  “Did you burn your hand in the fight?” Scott walked over casually to check her wound. “Hey, you’re face is getting a bit red too.”

  The dark magic was back. And it was back in a big way. It was tumbling into the room around them, spilling from every crack and nook and gap, like the ocean trying to sink a broken ship.

  “Oh dear,” she muttered again.

  “What is it?”

  “I think we should get out of here,” she yelped, latching a hand on Scott and trying to tug him towards the door.

  He wouldn’t budge. He was built like a tree trunk and she was built like a spindly stick. It was exactly like trying to tow a freight train with a bicycle.

  “Hey, hold on. We’ve got to get the witch. Plus, this place is fine now. That wizard is down—” Scott stopped suddenly. Either he could feel the dark magic amassing around them, or he’d just heard that suspicious scratching sound. “What the hell is that?”

  Understanding flashed through her mind as she stared back at the wizard. He’d been sustaining more than the chapel and her sleep spell with his magical book.

  He’d been calling something to him.

  Something that was about to arrive.

  Outside, something shook. With a rhythmic thump-thump-thump, it sounded as if something massive was making its way towards the chapel.

  The chapel ceiling suddenly shook, a hail of dust raining down on them.

  Scott looked up slowly, narrowing his eyes as he brought a hand up to brush the grit from his hair. “I see your point,” he somehow found the time to quip, “we should get out of here.” He turned sharply on his boot and raced up to the comatose witch. He picked her up carefully. “The door is back that way.” He started to run towards it as he inclined his head towards the back of the chapel. “Come on.”

  Anna, still shocked from the brutal pace of this situation, stood there for a single moment.

  She didn’t know why. Maybe that compulsion was back, or, just maybe, a kick of courageous curiosity was kindling in her gut.

  It didn’t last. Scott rammed into her with his shoulder as he shouted another desperate “come on,” right in her ear.

  She pivoted on her shoe and raced after him. As she did, she turned over her shoulder, her hair fanning out behind her, strikes of moonlight slicing through the windows and playing across the obsidian strands.

  Suddenly something burst through the chapel wall, smashing the ornate window above the pulpit, and sending shards of stone and glass scattering over the floor.

  Anna screamed.

  It was a soul catcher.

  As the massive creature took a shuddering step into the room, the torches along the walls swayed back and forth like ships buoyed by a tidal wave.

  She’d never seen a soul catcher. She’d only ever read about them in particularly rare and esoteric books. According to the literature, those fell creatures no longer existed. The magic required to sustain them had been obliterated – whatever that meant.

  Well, the books were wrong.

  “Holy crap, that’s a soul catcher,” Scott yelled as he too turned over his shoulder.

  For a man who looked as though he embodied adventure, he was c
learly well-read.

  The soul catcher was a massive, troll-like creature. Or at least it was today. Soul catchers could take on the forms of the souls they captured. Once they did, they would become virtually indistinguishable from the dead person – as they’d have access to not only their likeness, but all their memories too.

  While soul catchers could use that ability to go incognito, this guy had opted for muscle instead. Clearly somewhere in its remote past, it had consumed a massive, burly, grisly troll. One with arms like felled trees and a torso so large it could crush a semitrailer.

  The soul catcher leaned down, angled its neck forward, and screamed. It echoed off the walls, shattering the remaining windows and shaking the floor.

  “Come on,” Scott rammed into her again, “we gotta get out of here.”

  Anna turned and ran, faster than her tired limbs should allow. Despite her lethargy and crazy allergies, there was a fricking soul catcher behind her, and she really couldn’t hang around.

  They reached the end of the chapel, just as the soul catcher changed form. She saw it, and boy did she felt it. The rash climbing her neck suddenly exploded all over her face, the heat so intense it felt as if she’d pashed the sun.

  The massive troll leaned down, crunching its form in half, as its massive hands coursed with black, twisting magical lines. With a boom that shook the walls, the troll changed into a black leopard.

  “Ahh!” Anna now rammed into Scott, shoving him towards the door as she threw a bolt of magic into it, blasting it open. “Go, go, go!”

  She heard the leopard pounce over the broken sandstone, every bound bringing it perilously closer.

  Scott jumped through the open door.

  Anna pushed herself through, just as the leopard leapt towards her. She could see its glistening claws and teeth, even feel the buffeting air that swept towards her from its blisteringly fast leap.

  She stumbled, grabbed the door, and slammed it closed, ramming the metal bolt in place to lock it.

  She expected the soul-catcher-cum-leopard to slam into it. It didn’t.

  She took a careful step back.

  Then she sneezed. Violently. All over the magical-reinforced wood.

  “I usually shout when deterring enemies, but I guess sneezing could work too,” Scott quipped. “Now come on,” he waved her forward with a tick of his head, “we better get out of here before that thing breaks through the door.”

  Anna stared at her hands. The rash was gone, completely. Her skin no longer itched, and her back had thankfully stopped tingling. “... I don't think it's coming through the door,” she managed as she stared at the red-marked wood.

  “And how the hell do you known that? You can tell me while we run,” he added as he leaned forward and managed to shove her with his elbow while still holding the comatose woman.

  “I'm not sneezing or itching anymore,” she pointed out as she half jogged up the stairs.

  “Don't jog - run.” Scott shoved her in the back again, this time with his boot. “And my congratulations to your immune system, but I don't think the dark creature in there cares that you've fought off a sniffle. Trust me, doll, he's coming through that door as soon as he changes form into something that can slam through it.”

  “No, I have magical allergies,” she wheezed as Scott kept pushing her forward, “I'm not sneezing and I don’t have a rash anymore. That means there's no longer any magic around.”

  “... You have magic allergies? That's a thing?”

  Completely out of character, Anna gave a terse grumble. Or at least as much of a grumble as she could spare breath for. Scott was driving her up that winding staircase like a sheepdog herding stock. A sheepdog with a modified magical gun hanging off its hip.

  “You're a witch and you have magical allergies. Christ, that's the funniest damn thing I've heard. I'd laugh my head off, but we're currently running away from a soul catcher. So run faster.” He planted his boot into her back and shoved again.

  “How are we even going to get out of this tower?” she spared the breath to speak as she stumbled up another step.

  “By opening a door. Now move.” Scott pushed her again.

  He kept driving her up and up until, miraculously, they came across a door. Scott didn’t pause, and rammed his foot into it, sending a burst of magic down the boot as he opened it with a bang.

  It swung to violently, revealing ... the backroom from the bar. There were several shocked magicians standing around, cleaning up from Meredith’s demon fight.

  Scott, still running forward, grabbed the gun from his hip and shot the nearest one. Then, with a smooth move that belonged only in the non-physical world of comic books, he rolled with the woman still in his arms, and came up shooting. He hit the remaining magician before the guy could prepare a spell or even mutter a surprised curse.

  Anna gasped. She’d never seen someone move so fast and instinctually.

  Scott wasn’t done. He shoved her again, pushing her towards the open window. “Time to make a discrete exit.”

  “But ... that wizard is still down there. Shouldn’t we catch him?”

  “Ha. Unless you’ve forgotten, there’s a goddamn soul catcher down there. We can’t do this on our own.” Scott reached the open window, hooked it with his shoulder, pushed the frame all the way open, and somehow managed to pull himself up and out, even with the witch still in his arms.

  Anna, though she was tall, couldn’t pull herself out, and had to drag a table over to reach the window.

  Scott screamed at her to hurry up.

  Just as she heard boots hurrying down the hallway, she pushed herself through the window.

  She promptly fell on her face.

  Scott didn’t let her rest. He poked her with his boot. “Get up.”

  She ignored the pain in her wrists and elbows and hands – and everywhere – and hobbled to her feet.

  Scott pushed her into a run, not letting her stop until they were several blocks away.

  She slumped against a wall, practically dead on her feet.

  Scott gently placed the unconscious witch on the ground, before standing back, picking at an itch on his chin, and shaking his head. “What a night. This is one for the books. A soul catcher and a witch with magical allergies.”

  She crumpled against a wall, letting it guide her down to the ground so she didn’t fall and break something else. Using the last of her energy, she angled her head up to him.

  He hooked one hand on his side, tilted his head, and stared back at her. “You okay?”

  She tried to smile. It was more of a grimace.

  “Now why don’t you start from the beginning, Miss Anna, and tell me exactly how you got down there and exactly how you managed to fight off that wizard?”

  Though Anna could have lied, she didn’t. She told Scott the whole truth, even if it revealed every one of her numerous weaknesses.

  She’d enjoyed the impressed smile he’d given her when he’d thought she’d taken down that wizard on her own.

  Now his face stiffened with concern and alarm. “You shouldn’t have been down there, let alone bounty hunting with Merry. You could have gotten yourself killed,” he reprimanded harshly.

  She pressed her back into the cold brick wall behind her. Playing with her hair distractedly, she nodded. “I know that,” her voice was weak.

  Scott harrumphed. “Right. I can’t say it surprises me, though – like I said, Merry will drag anything in off the street and give it a job.”

  Anna withdrew.

  She’d had a tough night. Now this guy was accusing her of being dragged in off the street like a stray dog.

  “Okay,” he conceded after a lengthy pause, “that came out wrong. I didn’t mean it like that. But, Anna, this is a dangerous profession. Okay, you don’t usually come across mythical soul catchers that aren’t meant to exist anymore, but every day brings more trouble. If you aren’t up to it—”

  Anna pushed herself up, standing despite how wobbly her leg
s were. “Thanks for helping down there,” she said in a subdued tone, “if you look after that witch, I’ll head home.”

  Scott stared at her. His head tipped to the side slowly. He tilted his head an awful lot – he clearly saw the world from a different perspective to most people. “I’m not going to let you walk home alone – not in your current state. You hold up, I’ll deliver this witch to MEC, and I’ll take you home myself.”

  “I’m fine,” she tried.

  He snorted. “You are not fine. You almost got kidnapped by a seriously powerful wizard, and then I spent a good five minutes rudely insulting you.” He latched a hand on his jaw and manipulated it back and forth. “Which I’m kind of sorry about. You don’t need me harping on at you right now.”

  Anna blinked. She was used to being insulted, but being apologized to was new. She stared at Scott warily, waiting for him to chuck his head back, laugh, and continue to berate her. When he didn’t, she pushed her lips together and shrugged. “Okay then. But there’s something I’ve got to warn you about.”

  Scott raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “What?” His lips kinked into a half-amused, half-intrigued smile.

  “I have a cat,” she said seriously.

  He cracked into a grin and laughed. “Ah, thanks for the warning. But I’m not allergic.”

  Anna bit her lip. “You’ll understand when you meet her.”

  Scott shot her an odd look, shook his head, then leaned down to pick up the witch. “You’re a pretty weird one, Anna. I’ll text Merry and let her know you’re okay. Now let’s get this done so we can get you home.”

  Despite everything that had happened tonight, and everything he’d said to her, Anna found herself smiling.

  She didn’t know why, and she didn’t have to.

  She just smiled.