14
Bronywyn
Witches surround me on all sides, engaging in whatever sexual activity they want with supernaturals of all factions. Seems like The Accords have become even less significant in my absence. I don’t think this place has ever been this busy, which means people are stopping their desire to give a shit about the documents that govern us.
“What can I do for you?” A witch with bright pink hair greets me in the foyer just as a man to the left moans in pleasure. A witch’s mouth is wrapped around his cock while she magically teases him, her power floating around the two of them like a sheer blanket.
Turning my attention back to her, I try to drown out the rest of the noises. “I want to see Chasin.”
The woman smiles. “Straight to the top, huh? That will cost you.”
“I can handle it.”
“Very well, right this way.” She crooks her finger, and I follow her through a sea of sex, drugs, and magicked pleasure. Red curtains part, and she walks me through into a separate room where the man I’m looking for sits atop his self-proclaimed throne.
“What have we here?” He stands, showing off a bare chest covered in tattoos that shimmer with power. One of the only warlocks in Canada, the man before me has made quite the reputation for himself. Plus, he owes me about ten favors since I’ve healed him multiple times over the years. “What brings you all the way up here?”
Taking a seat on a plush red stool facing him, I cross both arms. “Good to see you, Chasin.”
He beams at me, a smile stretching over his elegantly handsome face. He’s made more than a few attempts at getting me into bed, but given my affection-affliction for a certain vampire, he’s yet to be successful. “You, too, Bronywyn.” He gets to his feet. “There’s something different about you.”
“I’m not here for your appraisal.”
“Then why are you here? Why travel all this way?”
“Because I’m looking to make a massive power grab, and I need you to come back to Billings with me.”
Interest piqued, he raises an eyebrow. “Any particular reason? Other than the power grab, of course. I’m only curious why you came to me.”
“I need your help shielding me.”
While I can now cloak myself from outside view, Chasin’s special skill set includes being able to shield someone completely from any tracking. Supernatural or otherwise, his magic can make me completely invisible to any type of radar. Even the kind of searching a homicide detective can manage. It’s how he’s succeeded at remaining under the council’s radar for as long as he has.
“And just what does a beautiful woman like you have to be running from?”
“I’m not running from anything,” I snap. “You owe me, and I’m asking you to make good on it. I don’t want to be tracked while I make my move.”
“You want me to leave my city, my country, and travel to Billings, Montana. I’d say that’s quite a few favors you need.”
“Fine. We can be even as soon as you’ve helped me.”
He grins. “You’re going to have to sweeten the pot a bit.” He moves past me, trailing slender fingers over the top of my hair.
Let me convince him.I shake my head, trying to clear the voice, then get to my feet to face off with him. “You will help me.”
“Oh?” Turning toward me, Chasin arches an ebony eyebrow. “And why would I do that? Other than owing you a few minor favors, of course.”
“A few minor favors? How about all the times I’ve sewn you back together because you’ve pissed off someone bigger and badder than you.”
“Yes, yes, yes, dear, you are very good with a needle.”
Let. Me. Out.“Then how about this for a reason.” I let go of the control, and the shadow magic surges to the surface. The bottle in his hand turns to ash, falling to the ground, and he gasps, staring down at it, then back up to me.
Black and violet thread down my arms, magic snapping at my fingertips like live electricity.
“What are you?” There’s no fear in his voice, just complete and utter fascination.
“Someone you don’t want to owe any favors to,” I assure him. “Now.” With the snap of my fingers, he’s slammed against the wall. “How about you take a little trip with me?” Stalking toward him, I enjoy every panicked heartbeat, every intake of breath that’s pained due to being pinned against the wall.