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“Why the hell would I give a shit about a vampire prophecy?”

“Because the vampire world is on the cusp of a war that could have repercussions for not only all vampires, but shifters, witches, and humans as well,” Winter said evenly. “My clan is trying to stop this from happening.”

To Fox’s surprise, Cheryl appeared to be thinking over Winter’s words. He’d fully expected her to scoff at him and walk away. He was shocked they were talking at all. He didn’t think they’d get this far before she tried to kill them.

“Let me see what I can stir up,” Cheryl announced, further knocking Fox for a loop. She…she was going to help. That couldn’t be right.

But the witch continued to walk toward the front steps. Fox and Winter immediately backpedaled, giving her plenty of room to cross in front of them. She easily moved up the stairs and grabbed the old screen door that screeched loudly in the silence. Winter started to follow, but Fox tightened his hand on the vampire’s arm, holding him away from the stairs.

Cheryl looked at Winter, Fox, and then at the stairs. She cackled and taunted, “And you think I didn’t teach you anything.”

“I learned all I needed to from you,” Fox said evenly, holding her cold stare.

She smiled wordlessly at him as she turned her attention to one of the wards on the doorframe. Pressing her finger to it, she murmured something. The air around the cabin tingled, and there was a faint golden glow that rose up from all the wards carved into the front of the house.

Fox glanced over at Winter, who was glaring at the witch. He didn’t seem to be reacting to the glow or even the tingle in the air. Did he not see it or feel it? Was it a witch thing?

“You may enter now,” Cheryl said. She stepped into the house, allowing the door to close shut behind her.

This time, Fox led the way up to two small stairs and pulled open the door. His stomach was twisting in knots and his hands shook, but there was no way in hell he was allowing Winter anywhere near this woman without him.

Inside the house, Fox’s breath caught in his throat and he nearly backpedaled out the door. The interior of the cabin looked identical to her house in Washington. It wasn’t that she had the same furniture arranged in the same manner or the same pictures on the walls. It was that everything was identical. Right down to the pile of old magazines by the hearth and the sprinkling of dust across the dried flowers strewn over the mantel.

“Like being home, isn’t it, Kit?” Cheryl mocked.

“Like stepping back in time,” Fox whispered. He didn’t have a single good memory of being in Cheryl’s house in Washington, and this place was making his heart speed up. He wanted out of there as quickly as possible, but the only way they could leave was to get the answers they came for.

Cheryl propped the shotgun on the stone fireplace and dropped into the chair covered in a floral material placed in front of the fire. She motioned for them to take the small sofa opposite her. Fox took a seat, and Winter settled as close as possible. He took Fox’s hand in his, holding it tight. Of course, Cheryl’s eyes zeroed in on the sweet, comforting gesture, and she smirked.

“Isn’t that sweet? Here I thought you were just his blood slave, but you’re a pet,” she teased.

Fox could hear Winter suck in a sharp breath, and he spoke before he could launch into any comments. He could guess what a blood slave was, but he didn’t have a clue as to the definition of “pet” besides the obvious meaning. Judging by the slight tremble in Winter’s hand, it wasn’t a good term.

“We don’t want to take up any more of your time than necessary. We just need to know about a prophecy a witch made about the Varik clan,” Fox said. “The prophecy stated:

Go west to the mountains.

Find the fleet-footed Fox with the magical touch.

The fiery witch will disarm the brothers

And free the lost king.

Have you heard it or know what it means? Or maybe even who made the prophecy?”

Cheryl’s eyes narrowed on Fox for a moment. “And let me guess…you’re the Fox.”

Fox hesitated for a second before he finally gave a tiny nod.

Cheryl laughed loudly as she dropped back in her chair, both of her feet kicking up in the air. The witch looked younger laughing like that. The sound itself was evil and more akin to nails down the chalkboard as two metal cans fucked each other, but she certainly looked happy.

A low growl came from Winter, but Fox quickly squeezed his hand to keep him silent. Cheryl could laugh and mock him all she wanted. That didn’t hurt him one bit. Annoyed, but it didn’t hurt. All that mattered was that she was willing to cooperate.


Tags: Jocelynn Drake Lords of Discord Paranormal