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“Dad, he’s here.”

I stepped back to give the guy some space. Wolves were always going on about that shit, and if it made my job easier, I could go with it. Fine. It wasn’t like my Glocks weren’t locked and loaded right under my arms. I’d even holstered the one with the silver bullet clip.

Vampires didn’t survive hundreds of years like I had without taking a few precautions.

A muscled guy who stood about six two, three inches shorter than me, walked out of the office. Clean cut. Classic rock T-shirt. Cargo shorts.

Then again, I was in tactical pants and a black wife-beater, so I wasn’t exactly earning the style points my friend Benedict prided himself on.

“You’re James?” I asked.

He nodded. “You’re one of the Onyx?”

I hooked my finger into my collar and pulled on the leather strap until my carved onyx medallion popped free. “Lachlan. You have a witch problem?”

The guy’s entire face darkened as he nodded. “This way.” He ordered his kid to man the desk, then led me up the rickety, external stairs of the motel to the second floor. The first door we passed was quiet. The second blared loud rap music that I could appreciate. The third—

I paused at the door frame, putting my hand on the thick red paint that covered the heavy wooden door. My heart’s cadence changed and my stomach turned, not in nausea, but…anticipation? And that scent…

Underneath the lingering, stale odor of cigarette smoke and—was that apple cider vinegar? What the hell was that person doing? Dying easter eggs?

“She’s in this one,” James said, unlocking the next door and jarring me from whatever the hell that was. He pushed open the door and flipped the light switch on just as I came into the room after him.

“Tied her to a chair,” he said with a grunt, stepping to the side and bringing her into full view.

“You tied a fucking witch to a chair?” And it wasn’t just any witch glaring up at me with lilac eyes that held a promise of death.

“She kept trying to wave her hands around and cast spells or some shit,” he answered with a shrug. “She’s not supposed to be here. We’re five miles inside Lycan territory,” he said directly to the girl.

“You should probably back up there, friend,” I tried not to laugh, knowing that the second she was free, James was fucking toast.

“Fine. Just do whatever the hell it is you guys do for trespassing.” He glared at the witch. “What is it nowadays? Tar? Starvation? In my day if you were caught in another territory, we took a thumb.” He snapped at her.

“Okay, well, seeing as we’re all immortal in this room, and it’s always our day, we’re going to let the lass keep her thumbs.” I pulled a dagger from the sheath at my thigh and moved toward the witch.

She didn’t bat an eye at the knife, firmly fixing her glare on the lycan.

“So what’s it going to be?” James asked, the hairs on his forearms rising.

I sighed. There wasn’t enough time in my day for this bullshit. Ransom could have sent one of his trainees down here to handle this. Then again, a trainee wouldn’t have known what to do with a hundred and thirty pounds of pissed off witch. “James, you should really go. I’ll handle it from here.”

“Really?” The guy looked disappointed.

“Really.” I pointed to the lass who sat with her hands and mouth duct-taped in the chair. “Because she’s not just any witch. That there is Jocelyn, Genevieve’s heir, and I really don’t think you want Genevieve down here asking why you taped the lass to a chair. Do you?”

The guy had the sense to go a little pale. “She’s the…Fuck.”

Jocelyn raised a haughty eyebrow.

“Go on. I’ve got this.” Hopefully if he left quickly, I could talk the lass out of not castrating him with a flick of her wrist.

“Yeah. Okay.” He practically ran out the door.

“What the hell are you doing here, lass?” I asked, ripping the tape off her mouth in one long pull. “Does your mother know—”

“I’m going to slide his intestines out of his belly button and then make him use them as a fucking belt,” she hissed.

“You’d think that purple hair of yours would be enough warning, but alas, here we are.” I paused, the tip of my knife at the edge of the bonds that held her wrists. “How the fuck did you let yourself get tied to a chair?” I looked over at her with raised brows.

“That would be none of your business.” She tilted that stubborn chin of hers.

“Right.” There was a story here. “Okay, I’m going to cut you free, but I’ll have your word that no harm is going to come to that lycan or his issue.”

She scoffed, then sighed once she realized I was serious. “Fine. I swear not to harm the territory-police over there. Fuck, it’s just a damned border. It’s not like I’m sneaking around his house at night.”


Tags: Samantha Whiskey Onyx Assassins Fantasy