Oneblock from the Patriarchâs mansion, a dark green minivan careens around acorner and plows into the rear of my truck. The fucking minivan hits the bumperat just the right damn angle to send the truck spinning out of control. Withthe parked cars, mailboxes, and thick-trunked trees lining the street, itâsonly a matter of time before we hit something and come to a sudden halt.
âDown!âI unlatch my seatbelt and drag Az under me. The delicate bones of her face,especially her still-healing nose, are no match for an airbag.
Thesickening crunch of metal hitting metal makes my ears ring. The driverâs sideairbag punches me in the hip. The passenger airbag slams into my shoulder. Thereâllbe bruises later, but nothing is broken.
Azpushes against my chest. It takes me a moment to sit fully upright. Okay, sothe shoulder maybe more than just a little bruised. I quickly run both handsacross her cheeks and ribs, but she doesnât appear to be injured.
âAreyou okay?â I ask. Just because there are no visible injuries doesnât mean thereisnât internal damage. âDid I crush you?â
âAmI okay? Am okay?â Her voice hits ahigher octave. Hysteria. Fright brought on by the accident? Delayed reaction toseeing the Dowager Matriarchâs body?
âAreyou hurt, Az?â
âOfcourse Iâm not hurt.â Her jaw clenches and her nostrils flare. One bony fingerjabs me in the sternum. âSome crazy, over-protective threw himself over me like a lead blanket!â
âUngratefulPrincess.â
âIdiotCompulsive Hero.â
Trafficaccidents in Houston are to be expected given the volume on the roads, but thisdoesnât feel like an accident. The minivan that hit us is only a few hundredfeet away. All the doors are open. Thereâs not a soul in sight.
Wewere deliberately hit. No coincidence that it happened so close to thePatriarchâs house, either. âDo you have your gun?â
Azextracts the Kahr P380 from her purse. I take from her and check the magazinebefore handing it back. âSeven shots. Use them well.â
âWhatâsgoing on, Rick? Do you need me to call anyone?â
WaltherPPK ready, I open the door and set one foot on the road. Az scrambles acrossthe bench seat to follow me out of the truck. âCall Greta. Leave the line open and yourphone on the seat. Sheâll have one of the boys track my phone.â
Sixwomen, dressed in matching blue scrub sets, materialize from behind trees andcars to form a line in front of the minivan. The air around them crackles andsmells like burnt plastic. Witches. Of course.
Azinhales sharply. âKrista Hennessy and Jessica Castillo,â she murmurs, pointingat two of the witches. âFound âem.â
âStaybehind me. If any get by, shoot to kill,â I instruct her as we move toward therear of my truck. The bumperâs dented and a taillight is busted, but itâs notas bad as I expected. I donât want to think about the front of my truck,though. âAfraid Iâm going to have to file a claim with your insurance company,ladies.â
Noverbal response. They blink in unison and take a step forward. Itâs creepy asfuck. Their faces have that glazed-over look I usually associate with drugusers or those under a vampireâs thrall.
âHeâscontrolling them,â Az says from beside me. Beside me. Not behind me asinstructed. No surprise there. âI figured he was controlling the not-Shifters,but I didnât think he could control his witches. I might actually be impressed.â
âCanyou break the control?â
âIfthey get close enough, Iâll interrupt the magic.â
âHowclose do they need to get?â
Sheshrugs. âDepends on what heâs using.â
Idoubt theyâll politely stand by while she licks them to check the magic. Waitingfor Az to do her voodoo isnât an option, then. If theyâre as loyal as KookyClaire, theyâre not likely to surrender easily if the mind control is broken. Sixwitches versus the two of us. Not bad odds. A bullet through the head will killa witch whether sheâs under mind-control or not. Thereâs no evidence thatOlivet is a necromancer.
Sixarms lift toward the sky. The air grows thick like fog. Heavy. My arm jerks upand my finger squeezes the trigger. A neat hole mars the forehead of a short,plump witch. She falls, but the other witches donât falter.
Ablast of scorching magic melts my rear tire. I retreat a step when it feelslike my jeans are going to catch fire. Az skirts around me to face the witchline. I hook a finger through her belt loop to drag her back. She digs in herheels. I could force her, but doing so would hurt her. Hurting her could leaveher vulnerable to the witches.
âThistime you stay behind me,â she says, wriggling until I have to let go of herjeans.
âNota chance in hell, Princess.â
Theglare she shoots over her shoulder is as hot as the magic fireball. âYouprotected me from the big, bad airbag because you can take the hit. Which oneof us is more likely to survive a magic whammy?â
UsingAz as a shield doesnât feel right, but she has a point. Stupid Princess withher stupid void logic. âIf they kill you, Iâm going to be pissed as hell.â
âNoted.âShe fidgets, rolls her shoulders. âWhy arenât they attacking again?â
Goodquestion. Their arms are extended and the atmosphere around them is teemingwith latent magic. They look like their waiting. Waiting for what?
âCanOlivet see what they see?â
âOfcourse. Itâs not very intimidating if theyâre constantly walking into walls, isit?â
âHewants to know what you can do. This is a test. Olivet is waiting for you toattack.â
Withoutwarning, Az quickly, unflinchingly pops off a shot. The witch between Jessicaand Krista falls. Fresh blood joins the pool spreading around the witchesâfeet. Az leans a hip against the side of the truck. The pose is deceptive. Shemay look relaxed, but I can see the tension in her muscles.
âItâsnot worth my time, Mr. Olivet,â she says, head cocked and ankles crossed. âIâmnot wasting an ounce of power on your flunkies. If you want to see what I cando, weâre going to do it face-to-face.â
Isshe trying to get herself killed? I donât even realize Iâm growling until shereaches back to pat my chest. I grab her hand and fold my free one over it. Now,if I need to, I can pull her behind me.
âIthought we were beyond formalities, Astraea,â the chorus of witches says.
Freakyas fuck.
âThatwas before you kidnapped a child. Tell me where Daniel is, and Iâll give you apersonal demonstration.â
Thewitches shake their heads. âI cannot do that.â Damned if they donât actuallysound regretful.
âThenthis is as close as weâre going to get.â The magic builds. Laughter spills fromAzâs lips. I squeeze her hand in warning, but she just laughs louder. âIs thatsupposed to be a threat, ? Youwonât kill me. You canât kill me. Itâs not part of the master plan. Oh, Iâmsorry, part of your masterâs plan.â
Onmy hip, my phone buzzes. I release Azâs hand just long enough to check thetext. Gretaâs ETA is five minutes. Greerâs is mere seconds. Great. Now, if weget the witches to attack while Greer is watching, then I wonât have to fillout quite so much paperwork when this over. Self-defense requires fewer formsthan any other type of shooting.
Thewitches laugh mockingly. âSo impatient to meet my master, Starshine?â
Azreels as if slapped. The arm holding her gun falls to her side. âWh-what didyou call me?â
Thelaughter swells. A searing blast of magic rolls across the road. The pavementbetween Az and the witches bubbles, but by the time the magic reaches us itâsnothing more than a warm breeze. A familiar blue sedan screeches to a stop nearthe wrecked minivan. Greer and one of his officers exit the sedan buy stayhunched behind the open doors.
Aspark of bright red magic shoots from the line of witches to take out half ofthe sedanâs hood. Okay. Perfect. Theyâve shown that theyâre on the offensive sonow I can take them out without drowning in bureaucracy afterwards.
Isquash a still-stunned Az against the side of the truck while aiming my Waltherat the witches. Their movements are sloppier than before. Jessica and aredheaded, freckled witch turn to focus on Greer while Krista and a tall,Hispanic witch continue to fire invisible fireballs at Az and me. Olivetâslosing his concentration.
Thefirst two rounds I fire at the witches disintegrate in midair. My third shothits its target but does little damage to the Hispanic witchâs round face. Theduo moves a step closer. The magic that hits me is warmer than before. The hairon my arms feels singed and the metal of my gun is nearly too hot to hold. Thenext fireball that comes at us is blue and turns the round I fire into a puddleof liquid metal. A quick spark of purple energy slams into us. Az winces but Idonât feel anything from it.
âGottatime it right,â Az mutters, finally showing signs of life. âCanât shoot into afireball. Wait for the lull.â
Ifollow her advice. The fireball-happywitch goes down after she melts my other rear tire. Az nudges me aside andraises her gun. Krista never gets a chance to retaliate.
Theroad still sounds like a warzone. Greer and his officer arenât having much luckwith their witches. Though my instinct is to rush in to assist them, I glancedown at an ashen, wide-eyed Az.
âAreyou okay?â
Sheshakes her head to clear it. Faint color brushes across her cheeks, but thatstunned look remains in her eyes. âYeah. Iâm good.â
Sheâsa liar, but thereâs no time to debate the topic. I have to pray that sheâs okayenough to be my back up. âReady to take down the last two?â
âIsuppose keeping one alive for questioning is out of the question.â
âNopromises.â Even if we do manage to keep one alive, chances are Olivet will justkill her before the interrogation starts.
Ilead the way across the street, around the cooling bodies of dead witches, towhere Jessica and the other witch have the two cops cornered between the sideof the sedan and a busted brick mailbox. At my signal, Az skirts the ruined front endof the car to come up behind the cops. Sheâll protect them from the magic whileI take out the witches.
Abullet through the brainstem takes care of the redheaded witch. Jessica is theonly one left. Silence settles like a shroud. Az hurdles over the two cops toblock Jessicaâs body with her own. My heart leaps to my throat. I donât trustGreer or his lackey not to accidentally put a round in my void. The youngofficer looks awfully shaken.
âNo!No, wait!â She starts to grab Jessicaâs shoulders but stops just shy of makingcontact. âI need answers. Are you still there, Joel?â
Jessicasways drunkenly. She pinches the bridge of her nose. âWhaâs? Whaâs?â Her eyesfix on Azâs face. Red, lush lips curl back in a snarl. âYou! You took him awayfrom me!â
âIbroke his mind control,â Az says. âYouâre welcome, by the way.â
âBitch!â
Azscowls and presses the barrel of her gun against Jessicaâs forehead. âYoucalled me something earlier. Where did you get that name from?â
âHecalls you that when he talks to the boss. Gets real moon-eyed and shit. I donât know why he pants over your skinnyass.â Jessicaâs bloodshot eyes rake Az from head to toe. âIf youâre so great,why arenât you the head of your own coven?â
âBecauseI hate witches.â Az tilts her chin up. Her eyes meet mine and then dart down toJessicaâs arms. Never one to miss a hint, I close one hand around both ofJessicaâs wrists. The witch bucks like a wet cat but doesnât have a shot inhell of getting free.
âHeâllkill your pet dog, bitch. Skin him like the animal he is. The Age of the Witchis coming.
is coming.â Jessicasurges for Az. I yank her back before she can headbutt Az. âYou canât win.â
Athin trickle of dark blood drips from Jessicaâs ear onto her shoulder. Herstruggles grow weaker. She continues to rant at Az, but the words start toslur.
âAgeof the Witch,â Jessica repeats, slumped forward in my grasp. âNothinâ to stopus.â
âLether go, Ricky.â Az hastily backpedals Jessica. âSheâs going to burn.â
Withoutmy hands holding her up, Jessica collapses onto the ground. Az curls a handaround my wrist and pulls me to her side. Flames ignite on Jessicaâs scalp andquickly swallow up the witchâs thin body. She doesnât make a sound.
âSalemâsFury.â Az leans her head on my non-bruised shoulder. âThatâs not its originalname, but I donât know if anyone has called it anything else in centuries.â
âWhatin the hell is going on, Rick?â Greer demands, struggling to his feet. He slapsat the hand the officer extends to him. âGreta calls and then I get reports ofshots fired. Whose witches were those?â
âOlivetâs.He knew weâd go to the Patriarchâs house. He was waiting for us. Six witchesunder his mind control. It was an ambush.â
Azpeers over her shoulder at the corpses on the ground. Her shoulders curve inunder the weight of her sigh. âI should go see if I can figure out what he usedto control them before he eliminates our evidence.â
Whileshe examines and licks the witches, Greer and I use our phones to photographthe scene. The officer, a distinct green tinge to his face, is tasked withscraping up the charred remains of Jessica Castillo. By the time Greta arrives,the witches have all melted into the asphalt and Greerâs started on his report.I tried to start a claim on my truck, but my insurance agent hung up on meafter I texted him a picture of the rear of the vehicle. I have the sinkingfeeling weâre going to get dropped.
âDamn,âGreta whistles, circling the remains of my baby. âThis is worse than the timeyou pissed off that nest of Iron Sprites off Braeswood. Do you need to Shift?â
Itâsthe polite way of asking if I am injured. âIâm fine. Iâve already called a towtruck. You can drop me off at the rental place. Iâve got to go with Greer tothe station.â
âWhatabout her?â Greta jerks her chin at the Princess curled on the curb. As soon asthe first witch started melting, Az sat and started doodling on her arm. Ihavenât tried to figure out what sheâs doing. As long as sheâs quiet and out ofharmâs way, Iâm happy.
âSheâscoming with me.â I donât know why thatâs even a question. Az goes where I go.
âQuinnwas looking for some help on a project he has for school. Uriahâs started threefights with Hank. Joseâs starting to get antsy. It wonât be long before thehouse arrest starts to wear everyone down.â
âAndyou want her there to because itâs all a little too domestic for you.â
Gretadoesnât cringe from my sarcasm. âYes. Sheâs good at it.â
âSheâllhave to fill out a report at the station. I need her help tracking down Daniel.She has a better idea of how Olivet thinks than I do.â
âYoujust like holding her hand.â
âHowâdyou like to be on babysitting duty for the next six months? The school islooking for chaperones for the next dance, and Uriah wants to join the swimmingteam.â
Thistime Greta does cringe. She bows herhead and drags the toe of her boot across the ground. âIâll figure somethingout until you get home. The gutters do need to be cleaned and someone needs tofigure out what that funk is in the attic.â
Smartfox.
âHey!Princess! Time to go!â
Azâshead jerks up. Her left sleeve is pushed all the way up and her entire arm iscovered with blue ink. Her eyes are out of focus. I donât know if she evenrealizes that Iâm talking to her. When she speaks, her voice is a breathywhisper only a Shifter can hear. âAge of the Witch.â