Page 29 of Witch's Fate

“Off Derby Street. In front of the water. To the right of the old Custom’s House, there’s a row of shops and bars. Next to the Witch’s Brew Cafe, you’ll find an alley. There’s a gate within—looks like it leads to a basement apartment. It’s fairly well hidden. Push the gate with your right hand to enter. Mytheans will walk onto Hollow Lane. Mortals will just walk into a small empty courtyard.”

“Thank you. You’ll forget us in five minutes.” He turned to Sofia and nodded.

She led the way out of the little shop and into the brisk autumn air. The door shut behind them with a clang.

“Why didn’t you just do that to start?” she asked as they turned left and headed down to a cross street that would take them to Derby.

“I wanted to find out what kind of demon she was. Some of them are particularly resistant to mind control.”

“You can do that? Control minds?”

“It’s just another facet of destruction. I break down the barrier that keeps a person from telling me what I want to hear. One who might keep silent because it’s in her own best interest can no longer do so.”

They made their way down the shop-lined street, past old buildings and under bright-leafed trees. The autumn wind was sharp and the smell of candles burning inside jack-o-lanterns permeated the air.

“What exactly have you been doing the last four hundred years?” Sofia asked as they dodged a group of be-hatted mortals sipping coffee from paper cups.

“You’re interested?” His ego hated to admit it, but he was flattered.

“Strangely, I find that I am. But don’t worry—it might not even be interest in you. After all, I wanted to be a warlock too. Until the cost became too great.” There was bitterness in her voice.

Darkness filled his chest. She’d never forgive him for leaving her. He shook the thought away. But being without her was no longer bearable, so he would make it work. “I’ve been a mercenary. First for the money. Then to keep myself busy. I only take on work I like now.”

“Did you have any standards, or would you do any old thing? Destroy villages, perhaps? Destruction is the specialty of a warlock, after all.”

Sharp-tongued. But he liked it. Better than false sweetness bought with his gold or power. “I never destroyed any villages, no. But remember, destruction can be used to break evil magic. Dark spells. Plague. I didn’t say no to much, though. It wasn’t all good.”

“Hmmm.” Disappointment.

“I never did anything too terrible,” he said. He didn’t have much hope of her forgiving him, but he could at least try not to add to her dislike. “Mostly only to people who deserved it.”Mostly.

“Have you been happy?”

He blinked, unsure of how to respond. Had he been? “I’ve been all right.”

“I imagine the wulver half of your soul wouldn’t like the cold life of a warlock.”

No, she was right about that. Wulvers valued clan. Family. Love. But he’d been raised by his mother’s people—sorcerers who prized magic and power over all else. That partof him had been ignored. Suppressed. “That hasn’t been as easy.”

“Is it why you’ve abducted me?”

His step faltered, but he forced himself to keep going, trying to cover it up. He hadn’t expected her to figure it out. He almost hadn’t figured it out. Was it the wulver part of his soul that had demanded he bring her back to him? Or just his desire? “Perhaps.” He needed to change the subject. “What about you?”

“That’s Derby Street up there.” She pointed to a sign at the corner ahead.

“Not going to answer?”

“No.”

“It’s fair. I answered your questions.”

“Life isn’t fair, Malcolm. I know that as well as anyone.”

He couldn’t argue that point.

They stopped on the corner, looking out at the bay across the street. A glance left revealed that the old Custom’s House sat down the road. The tall, elegant building looked to be mid-seventeenth century. Perhaps earlier.

It took them only a few minutes to find the alley between the shops next to the Custom’s House. They slipped down the narrow passage. The gate sat at the end as the demon girl had said, a wrought iron affair that was rusted in places.

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