Page 48 of Wicked Warlock
She pulled open the flap of the tent, revealing one long rectangular table. All different species sat around the table in various stages of drunkenness. An elf had her head laying on the table with one arm extended out toward a bottle. She seemed to have passed out while reaching for it. A group of vampires all huddled together, singing some kind of sea shanty. They had dumped a bottle of blood between the three of them, missing the glasses and spilling it all over the floor. Tiger shifters lay scattered around the room, their bodies twisted in odd, limp positions, while one staggered around in tiger form. It turned, growled at me, then fell onto its side.
I wonder what Brax would think of them.
Maze’s father sat at the head of the table with one woman on each side. The vampire woman to his left licked at a bite on his chest, while a siren on his right sang a song in his ear that made his eyes roll back into his head and a ridiculous smile play on his face.
His shirt hung open down to his stomach, and his hair was a slicked mess that hung down from his head to his chin. It was oily and dirty-looking. He was a tall, thin man, yet he had enough muscle to intimidate any who would come looking for trouble, which was why he was the gatekeeper of the crone. In this state, he wasn’t much of a keeper, though. A thick black goatee ran from just under his long, straight nose all the way around his mouth.
Alba cleared her throat. “Jessier! Someone to see you.”
His head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes at me. “What does an heir want with me?”
“Nothing to do with you. I need to speak to the crone.” This place was disgusting. I used to feel bad that Maze got dumped at Warwick. Now I thought it might’ve been for the best.
Jessier lurched to his feet, swaying back and forth with a bottle in hand. He raised his arm and nearly fell forward, slurring his words. “Disrespectful.”
The vampire girl tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder and sauntered toward us. A drop of blood trickled from the corner of her lip, and she darted her tongue out, licking at it. She stopped just in front of Alba and snickered.
“Guess you better leave.”
“Don’t try me, whore. Your purpose is better served on your knees than standing in front of me.” Alba didn’t even look at her.
The others at the table all chuckled at the hard insult. The vampire puffed up her chest and it nearly overflowed out of the corseted top. “I think your purpose is served. Time for a new ringmaster.”
The laughing died and everyone suddenly sobered. Jessier cheered, “Yes! Be gone, Alba. I have no use for you.”
“Use for me?” Alba’s cheeks turned a bright red, and I took a small step back.
I’d seen that look in her son before, and I saw it in her now. She pulled a dagger from behind her back and drove it right into the vampire’s chest so fast I barely had time to register it. The vampire wailed as Alba grabbed her by the hair and shoved her out into the middle of the day. It was cloudy and overcast, yet even the barest hint of the sun made her burst into flames.
Alba spat on the ground. “Made vampires are too easy to kill.”
“No!” Jessier began to run for her, but it was too late. Her body disintegrated into ash and she crumbled to the ground. He ran out into the daylight and put his hands into the pile of what was left of his mistress.
Alba dusted off her hands and turned back to the rest of the freaks in the tent. “Anyone else want to become ringmaster?”
They all scrambled to their feet and sprinted for the back of the tent, leaving the table a mess and flipping over chairs on their way out.
“You bitch!” Jessier popped to his feet and pulled a sword from the waistband of his pants. He blinked hard and swayed once more. “I’ll kill you.” He ran at her at full speed.
I didn’t have time for this. I threw out my hand and opened a portal right in front of his feet. Jessier dropped down into it, disappearing from sight. Alba looked from the portal to me and back again.
“I could have handled him.”
Kylian chuckled. “That’s for damn sure.”
“I have no doubt about that. But I’m on a schedule.” I closed my hand and the portal shut tightly.
Alba shrugged. “Since he’s not here, then go right ahead out behind all the tents. You’ll find her. It’s hard not to.”
“Thanks, Alba.”
“Where did you send him anyways?” She motioned to the empty place where Jessier once stood.
I shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Kylian and I turned for the back of the tent and walked away, heading toward the crone. Ten feet away from her tent, and the cages came into view. This wasn’t a normal circus, and she was a crone with a collection of magical animals to go along with it. Several cages stood in an ominous circle around a single tent. Each of them was covered with a thick black drape, but I heard the roar of lions, the hiss of snakes, and caw of birds. But they weren’t lions, snakes, and birds; they were something more—something the crone used to harvest more power. This went deeper than warlock magic. This was dark magic. The kind of magic I needed to get my last task done.
The flap of her tent opened up and a woman no taller than four-foot-seven stood there. Thin strands of scattered gray hair hung down past her wrinkled face. She hunched over a twisted wooden walking stick. A tattered black robe covered her from shoulder to ground.
