Page 21 of Warrior Witch

Now that light filtered into the space, I could see that the table stretched through a room much longer than I thought it’d be. Whoever lived here was either very rich or very powerful. Picking up a plate from the edge of the table, I blew the dust off before shining it with the hem of my t-shirt. It was heavy, gleaming real silver in the sunlight.

“Well, at least no one’s leaving here poor.” Bruin smirked, opening a drawer to find matching silverware.

“Of course your first thought is to loot the place,” I scolded him, though there was a thought at the back of my mind that we could really use the money. Hell, depending on how haunted this place was, maybe we could move in.

In the next room, toward the back of the house, I found a kitchen the size of our apartment. Holy shit, people could cook actual meals here, as a family, instead of fighting over a stovetop where only half the burners worked. Except for the dust, everything was in an amazing condition, clearly well cared for before it was abandoned. Which begged the question, who would leave a house like this?

We completed a circle of the ground floor, walking through a large sitting area with multiple couches and armchairs where the family must have gathered, and a conservatory with a view of the tragically overgrown garden. I made a mental note to show it to Kylen in case this family had grown his mysterious plant. It looked like a miniature jungle out there.

As we headed for the stairs, a whistling sound from below distracted me. Did this house have a basement? Smoothing my hands along the wooded wall under the stairs, I felt a cool breeze from between two planks of wood. “Hey, Lins! Gimme some light over here?”

He held up his phone, the flashlight shining on the side of the staircase, and I followed the gap to a spot big enough I could pull with my fingertips. With barely a hint of effort, a door swung open like it was welcoming me inside. That was far too easy.

“Do you see anything?” Lindsay asked.

I nodded. “Stairs. It looks like they might lead underground. Wanna take a look?”

“At the definitely-not-haunted secret tunnel? I think I’ll try upstairs instead.”

“Oh, boo. Come on, I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

Lindsay held up his hands in surrender. “You do you. I’m more interested in what’s on the second floor.”

“Okay. Meet in an hour.”

“Ahem.” Bruin held out his bound hands, looking more like a Victorian orphan boy than the biker threatening to murder me. “Come on, Sparky. I know you don’t want me alone with your friend, and if we’re going down there, I’m gonna need my hands to dig myself out when it collapses.”

He had a point, sort of. At least if he was with me, I could keep an eye on him. Plus, I’d already beat him once.

“Do you seriously think you can trust him?” Lindsay asked, eyeing him.

I stifled a laugh as I carefully zapped the vines enough for them to release their captive. Didn’t want them to accidentally constrict him instead and squeeze off his arms… or did I? Now there’s a thought.

“Not even a little. But I know I could make lightning tap dance across his ass if he starts shit.”

“At least I know you’re thinking about my ass.” Bruin winked at me, shaking off the last of the vines that had plagued him for the past day.

“I think you are an ass. Now, let’s go.”

Crouching to avoid the low ceiling, we headed down into the earth.

Harlow

“Those vines left sap all over my skin. Ugh, I’m all sticky, and now we’re ignoring all the signs of an imminent cave-in and heading underground.”

“Do you ever stop bitching?” I asked, whirling on Bruin and almost losing my balance on the uneven stairs.

His hand snapped out and gripped my upper arm, steadying me as I caught my footing. My skin prickled at the contact, and we both froze, stares fixed on his hand.

“Uh… thanks,” I said, awkwardly twisting out of his grip before continuing my descent.

After a few moments, his footsteps echoed behind me.

“So what do you think is down here?” he asked as we hit the bottom of the stone stairs and faced off with a heavy wooden door.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m down here.”

I reached out and traced the jagged lines of metal worked into the face of the door. It looked like forked lightning crawling from the top of the door almost to the floor. I smiled at the image, thinking of my own ability and feeling a moment of kinship with whoever had crafted it.

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