Page 2 of Familiar of the Witch

Bastion was watching me, his eagle eyes missing nothing. His jaw tightened at my poorly hidden distress. ‘I’m okay,’ I lied softly for his ears alone. ‘Though I have to say this isn’t quite how I’d envisioned you cuffing me.’ I waggled my eyebrows suggestively and willed him to let me lighten the mood.

I saw the moment that he decided to let me have my way. A small smile tugged at his lips. ‘Fluffy ones,’ he breathed into the shell of my ear.

My cheeks heated. We still hadn’t even exchanged so much as a kiss because the moment had never felt right. Now I wholeheartedly regretted that omission. Well, at least while I was in prison I’d have the image of Bastion twirling black fluffy cuffs to keep my blood hot.

And if the other inmates bothered me? They’d soon learn that I was nobody’s bitch.

Chapter 2

Mack refused to let Bastion fly in the helicopter with me; the wizard clearly had a death wish. Bastion’s eyes were golden and his shift was close to the surface. I shook my head briskly, silently ordering himnotto kill the foolish man. I might not have liked Mack’s actions but he was just doing his job. Albeit badly and rudely.

As Mack strapped me in, Bastion stood nearby watching to make sure no excessive force was used. Once upon a time, he’d been hired by the Council to protect me, though these days I suspected that Oscar was his paymaster. That was a relief because it meant that Bastion was following my orders rather than the Council’s.

I was relieved that Oscar wasn’t here to see me arrested. Bastion had managed to keep a level head – at my behest – but Oscar had all-but raised me after my own father had abandoned me. He wouldn’t have let Mack take me, andwho knew how a fight between the two of them would have gone?

Oscar was in his sixties now; though he showed no signs of slowing down, I had recurring nightmares about him getting hurt on the job. Not long ago he’d been knocked out and concussed and that had brought home the fact that he wasn’t a spring chicken any more. Even so, I knew that making him retire would hurt him as much as the blow to the head had done.

Mack closed the helicopter door with an ominous thunk. If he thought that making Bastion stay behind would inconvenience the griffin or prove an obstacle to him, he was even thicker than he looked. There was no way Bastion would let Mack take me to some black-ops site without following every inch of the way. I knew my griffin; there was no chance he’d let me be taken anywhere but Edinburgh for the trial that Mack had spoken about.

Instead of brutally murdering Mack, Bastion shifted into his griffin form. As the helicopter took off, so did he. I grinned as I saw his huge white wings soaring next to us.

‘Lose him,’ Mack grunted to the pilot.

In fairness to the pilot he did try, but no matter how much he ducked and dived he couldn’t shake Bastion. The ride was bumpy as hell as the helicopter twisted and turnedbut, despite the aerial acrobatics, my griffin stuck to us like glue. I smirked at Mack, no doubt making his blood pressure rise.

After fifteen minutes of aerial tag, Mack gave a barely audible sigh. ‘He’s not going anywhere. Just get us to Edinburgh as fast as possible.’ I wondered if that was a change in destination or not.

I managed not to snicker aloud, but I struggled not to grin. The rest of the journey was significantly smoother and I entertained myself by watching Bastion through the window. Even in griffin form he was a magnificent specimen. His corded muscles bunched and rolled as he flew easily next to the helicopter, keeping pace with us without a hint of effort.

I tried my best to stay loose and relaxed; one sign of tension from me and Bastion would probably tear open the helicopter doors and rescue me. Though I enjoyed the image, I was nobody’s damsel in distress – not even his.

Before long, we were landing on top of The Witchery restaurant and hotel, which is the witches’ headquarters. We take hiding in plain sight seriously.

Mack opened the door, unstrapped me, took my arm and dragged me from the helicopter. Bastion let out an eagle shriek of pure rage and landed with a resoundingwhump that rocked through the building. I smiled. I’d ridden on Bastion’s back and I knew his landings were usually feather light. He was being heavy-footed on purpose. He was so sweet.

Mack swallowed hard but continued to drag me inside as Bastion shimmered into human form. Not for the first time, I thought it was a shame that he managed to retain his clothes when he shifted. His eyes, now blazing like suns, followed my every movement. He stalked down the stairs behind me; his presence at my back as reassuring as ever.

Rosemary, the maître d’ of The Witchery, glared at Mack then gave me a little bow and touched her hand to her heart as I was marched down into the bowels of the building. That small sign of solidarity strengthened me. I was not without allies.

I was taken down into the underground city. At the gate stood ten wizards, all with weapons drawn. ‘You go no further,’ Mack ordered Bastion, unable to hide his triumph.

A laugh slipped out before I could stop it. Bastion cancoax.If you have the slightest inclination to do something, Bastion can fan that whim into action. If one of the guards hated another, he could get them to kill each other. If the wizards were secretly trembling in the face of the deadliestassassin to walk the earth, he could make them run away. Or he could simply slice them to pieces with his beak and his talons. No matter what they believed, the wizards guarding the entrance were no barrier to Bastion.

That thought made me frown; killing them all wouldn’t exactly start my trial off on the right foot. I met Bastion’s dark eyes and reluctantly shook my head. ‘Stay,’ I entreated him, not an order but a request.

Mack laughed. ‘Sit. Stay. There’s a good boy,’ he mocked. I grimaced, the man was not only a fool, he had no sense of self-preservation. I had half a mind to let Bastion tear into him just to teach him a lesson.

Bastion levelled a look at Mack that a more sensible man would have recognised as a death threat. Mack sneered. I had tried to save his life, but implying to an Other creature that they were a pet…?

Human–creature relations are touch and go at the best of times, but lately they’d been rockier than usual since some more vocal members of the Symposium had tried to pass a law tagging all Other creatures as if they were cattle.

Bastion was furious, and I didn’t blame him. Mack had passed from ‘just doing his job’ territory and danced right into ‘Schadenfreude asshole’ land. Bastion was going to slice and dice him like ateriyaki chef.

My arrest was an unfortunate misunderstanding. Yes, I’d killed Hilary – but she had killed Abigay. Under Coven rules, I was well within my rights to avenge the Crone. This mess would be cleared up in no time. Hopefully. But Mack? His fate was sealed. In the Other realm, each species has their own rules and regulations and one of those is that griffins don’t ignore insults. Goodbye, Mack – I won’t miss you.

He grabbed my arm tightly and I bit back the cry that tried to escape at his sudden use of force. Bastion stepped forward, lips twisted in a snarl. I shook my head again firmly then smiled, hoping that would be enough to stop him killing anyone. ‘Don’t,’ I said to him. ‘Not yet,’ I amended. That made Bastion smile darkly and look at my captor with anticipation. Bastion enjoys anticipation.

He met my eyes and inclined his head slightly.Not yet,he silently agreed.

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