Witch's Bounty (20 page)

“We didn’t,” a male witch said.

“It was Mathilde,” another concurred. The demons snarled and snapped amongst themselves in a guttural language, apparently pissed Mathilde had sold one of them down the river.

“At least all that metal forms a temporary barrier,” Jenna muttered, shifting from foot to foot, her gaze never leaving the demons.

As if to prove her wrong, one of the Irichna leaped high into the air and dive-bombed her, cutting through the witch’s warding as if it weren’t there. Jenna shrieked. A hole opened from her shoulder down one arm; blood flowed freely as she grappled with the demon, trying to keep its mouth away from hers so it couldn’t suck her soul from her body.

Colleen hurled magic into the demon, but it didn’t even loosen its hold on Jenna. Desperation filled her, along with fury. She launched herself at the pair, intent on saving her friend. All hell broke loose. Magic flew every which way. Duncan looked absolutely green, probably from the pile of iron five feet from him, but his face was carved into resolute lines as he channeled power, presumably from the source he’d tapped into at her house. It flowed through him and straight into one of the two demons still on the far side of the manacles.

Colleen shouted at Roz. “Keep the third one off my back while I help Jenna.”

“You got it.”

Colleen sent more power spinning into the demon atop Jenna from pointblank range. Bubba slithered over and attached himself to the creature’s back. He wrapped his four arms around the thing and cut into it with his pincer-like claws. Where he tore through skin, black ichor oozed. It smelled like a cross between road kill and sulfur. Colleen’s stomach curdled into a nauseated ball, but she swallowed down bile. There’d be time to throw up later—if there was a later. She snapped up a set of handcuffs and slapped them around the demon’s wrists while he grappled behind his back to displace the changeling. The Irichna bellowed in pain and outrage, its voice so eerie it iced her blood. She wondered if she’d ever be able to get warm again.

Bubba moved far faster than she would have thought possible, slithering beyond the range of the demon’s feet, which had turned into hooves with razor sharp edges. The Irichna surged to its feet, and in a double-jointed move that defied physiology, he swung his manacled arms over his head so they sat in front of his body.

At least Jenna was free. She stumbled to her feet, looking dazed. Blood still ran down her front. “Thanks. How the fuck will we corral the rest of him?”

“I haven’t got a clue.” Colleen glanced at Roz. “How are you doing?”

“Okay. Every once in a while he ups the ante, but so far, it’s been manageable. I think he’s waiting to see what happens with the other two. Dirty cocksucker!” She returned her full attention to the demon. “Bastard! Take that.” Power blazed from her hands, but the demon skinned bloodless lips back from yellowed teeth and laughed.

Colleen shifted her gaze to Duncan. Color had drained from his face, but the demon he’d been pouring magic into had developed an insubstantial, almost translucent, look. Duncan made a feral, grunting sound, pushed power hard, and the Irichna disappeared. She started to congratulate him, but he slid to the floor, barely breathing.

“Shit!” Colleen ran to him and knelt by his side. He might be immortal, but that didn’t mean other bad things couldn’t happen. Bubba hissed, long and low. Jenna screamed a warning.

Because her awareness was focused on Duncan, she hadn’t been paying attention to the manacled demon. Somehow, it had gotten behind her. It snugged the handcuffs against her throat and pulled hard. She writhed, trying to escape it, but it was too close and too strong. Metal bands dug into her throat, cutting off her airway. She heard pathetic choking noises and realized she was making them. Dark spots danced through her vision. The demon bent her head back. Its face was inches from hers. If she didn’t do something, it would have her. Mouth atop hers, it would absorb her soul. If that happened, she’d join their ranks.

“Nooooo,” she shrieked with what little air she had left.

Jenna hurled herself at the demon, tackling it from the side. Colleen’s head snapped back with a crack that reverberated through her skull, but at least she could breathe again. She shot to her feet and stumbled away from where Jenna and the demon rolled around on the floor. Bubba slithered up the demon’s body and buried his fangs in its neck.

Duncan opened his eyes, took in the scene, and roared his displeasure. He bounded to his feet. The air crackled with power as he summoned killing magic. He held it between his hands, apparently so overcome with the energy, he couldn’t speak, but he tilted his head toward the demon.

Colleen understood the problem. “Bubba! Jenna!” she cried. “Let go now!” They did, rolling and skidding out of the way, just as Duncan released a stunning blast of magic into the Irichna. The room pulsed with light so bright, it looked like lightning had struck. Colleen squinted, trying to see. Maybe because this demon was partially bound with iron, which had to have muted its magic, it vanished much faster than the first one had.

Magic pulsed from Roz’s hands. She taunted the third demon. “How about a one way ticket to Hell, buddy, with me as your escort? My partners here will bind you and then we’ll take a little trip.”

“We’re on it,” Colleen said and plucked a set of handcuffs from the pile. She smiled grimly. One demon felt imminently manageable.

Jenna grabbed a set of leg irons. She and Colleen converged on the last demon. It eyed them balefully. The changeling, still in snake form, glided between them, hissing. With a long, snarling hoot, the demon became less substantial. Colleen tried to snap manacles on it, but they cut through empty air. Finally, even the last vestiges of the thing shimmered into nothingness.

Colleen shook her head to clear a sudden dizziness that threatened to engulf her. She forced deep, healing breaths, willing oxygen into the very bottom of her lungs. Maybe it would cut through the stench of demon that still hung heavy the room.

Duncan stumbled to a window and heaved it open. He bent his upper body, shoving it outside, and Colleen heard him gulping air that wasn’t tainted by iron. However bad she might be feeling, he was probably much worse. She thrust her own discomfort aside, raced to him, and put an arm around his waist. “Are you all right? Christ! I was worried sick when you passed out.”

He made a sound between a snort and a grunt. “I did not pass out. I was merely resting.”

She blew out an amused breath. “Yeah, right. Your eyes were closed and you were barely breathing. In my book. That’s passed out.”

“Whatever.” He turned his head, looked at her, and winked. “All’s well that ends well, sweetheart. We’ll live to fight another day.” He ginned up what was probably meant to be a lascivious grin, but he was still a bit green about the gills. “I want to wrap my arms around you and hold you, but you’ve got to get all that iron out of here first.”

She leaned into him, reveling in how good he felt, then let go and turned to face the rest of the witches who’d gathered around Roz, Jenna, and Bubba. “How about if you get that iron out of here, then we can all go downstairs and sort things out.”

“Are they coming back?” one of the witches asked. She didn’t have to define who she meant by
they
, Colleen knew.

“Probably, but not today,” Roz said.

“And not necessarily back here,” Jenna added.

“Yes, that’s one of the things we need to discuss,” Colleen cut in too tired to be anything other than forthright.

Bubba slithered over to her and rubbed his reptilian head against her leg. She eyed him. “No demons to borrow power from, huh?” His snake’s tongue flashed out. Maybe he was agreeing, or laughing. She’d have to ask him once he could talk again. “What’ll it be, Bubs? Cat?” The snake shook his head. Colleen flicked magic his way, surprised she had enough left to do anything. The changeling morphed back to his gnome’s body and shook himself.

“I helped.” Pride rang in his voice.

“Yes,” Colleen smiled at him. “You did. A lot.”

“What is he?” a witch asked.

“Pretty handy, I’d say,” another witch chimed in.

“Yes,” said a third. “Whatever he is, I want one.”

Bubba drew himself up. “I’m a changeling and we pick our magical partners.” He shot Colleen a look. “You don’t have to remind me. I’ll get my clothes out of your bag.”

“I’ll get them,” Roz said and plucked Colleen’s backpack from where it was partially buried beneath the bloody remains of Mathilde’s body.

“Ewwww. Not sure I want anything out of there.” Bubba screwed up his face in disgust.

“Everything inside is fine,” Roz informed him. She reached into the bag and handed him a shirt and pants. The witch snorted and smoothed a hand down her still-intact clothing. “At least none of us had to shift.”

Colleen rubbed her throat. It felt swollen and bruised from where the demon had nearly strangled her. She would have shifted then if she could, but magic required air and the demon had caught her unawares. “We can talk about changelings downstairs too,” she told the witches. “Let’s move the iron, so Duncan, my, um sort of fiancé, can leave this room without fainting again.”

“I like the sound of what you called me, minus the qualifier.” Duncan turned so the open window was at his back and smiled broadly. “Leave a man a spot of pride, would you? I know you’re teasing, but I did not faint. That vein of magic I borrowed liberally from is like harnessing lightning. Takes damn near everything out of me. Having enough iron to shoe an entire cavalry troop right next to me didn’t help.”

“Point taken. I’ll stand down.” Colleen laughed, but it made her throat hurt. She exchanged glances with Roz and Jenna. “Well, gals, we did it again.”

“Me too,” Bubba said.

“You too.” Colleen squatted and held out her arms. The changeling trotted to her and gave her a hug.

“We barely did it,” Roz conceded.

“By the skin of our teeth,” Jenna muttered.

“Doesn’t matter.” The fierce undercurrent in Colleen’s voice surprised her. “Like Duncan just told me, we’ll live to fight another day.” Bubba let go and she straightened.

The Coven witches grabbed armfuls of iron and left the room. Finally, only the five of them were left. “Shall we?” Colleen said.

“Absolutely.” Duncan moved to her side, draped an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her against him. “I want to figure out what this group knows about Mathilde and her link to the Irichna.”

“We all do. You two can play kissy-face later,” Roz growled. “Do you want this?” She waved Colleen’s blood and gore splattered rucksack in the air.

“Nope. Think it’s time to buy another one.”

Roz snorted. “Somehow I thought you’d see it that way.” She scooped the rest of Colleen’s things out of it, dropped the backpack into a waste can and led the way downstairs.

“Why’d you say that about playing kissy-face? We weren’t doing anything,” Colleen asked, as she made her way down several flights of stairs.

“You were thinking about it,” Jenna answered before Roz had a chance. “Keep moving. I want to find somewhere to sit. I’m about done in.”

“Here’s your stuff.” Roz handed the backpack’s contents to Colleen and she stacked her clothes and wallet on a side table before following Roz from the bottom of the stairs to a large dining room. The witches had been busy. A long side table was laden with cheese, crackers, cookies, tea and coffee pots, and a staggering array of liquor bottles. Colleen placed a few slices of cheese and some soft cookies on a plate. Figuring something warm would soothe her inflamed throat, she poured a cup of tea and added honey to it.

“Between that plate and cup, it looks like you’re out of hands,” Duncan noted. “Would you like me to pour us a glass of something alcoholic?”

“Sure. I don’t have a preference. Just pick something.”

Eventually, they worked their way into a luxurious meeting room lined with rows of chairs and small tables. A fire burned merrily in a huge stone fireplace that took up one end of the cozy space. Old-fashioned chandeliers were festooned with unlit candles. Witches motioned them to a raised dais cattycorner from the fireplace. Colleen set her plate and cup down and took a long drink of tea. The warm liquid and honey helped a lot. She dropped onto a padded chair. Duncan sat on one side, Bubba on her other. Roz and Jenna settled in the seats next to Bubba.

“Whew!” Jenna toed off her shoes. “My feet are killing me.”

Colleen glanced under the table. “It’s your penchant for high heels. Now if you’d develop a taste for nice, practical boots…” Jenna ignored her, spread a cracker with cream cheese, and popped it into her mouth.

“Old argument?” Duncan asked archly and quirked a brow.

“Very old.” Colleen drank more of her tea.

A buzzing, whispery noise filled the room. One of the witches Colleen remembered from the tribunal that had grilled Duncan, walked to the front of the room, mounted the dais, and raised her hands for silence. The hall quieted instantly. The witch turned and bowed to Colleen. Her long black hair swept the floor. Brilliant blue eyes glowed in her olive-skinned face. About five foot eight, with a willowy build, she could have been anywhere from thirty to a hundred. Witches rarely aged, unless they wanted to. Rather than the robes she’d worn the other day, she was dressed in a long, black skirt and a multicolored top, hand painted with runic symbols.

“I am Naomi, second in command here. First, I wish to thank you. You saved many of us from certain death.”

Colleen rose and bowed in return. “You are most welcome.” She remained on her feet and waited. Naomi must have questions—lots of them.

“Is Mathilde going to return?” Naomi’s voice was stern, but worry flickered in the depths of her eyes.

“No. She’s dead.” Colleen reached for her cup, but Duncan gave her the glass with whiskey in it. She took a tentative sip, unsure how liquor would react with her sore throat. It wasn’t as bad as she feared; she only sputtered a little.

Naomi squared her slender shoulders. “Probably not supper conversation, but how do you know Mathilde is dead?”

Colleen considered her answer and then decided to ask a question of her own. “Did you know Mathilde parlayed with the Irichna?” She sent a truth spell to eddy between them; the other witch’s eyes widened, and then she nodded her understanding.