Page 111 of Son of a Witch

“You’re lucky my daughter loves you,” Loco muttered as Tor released him.

“Don’t be grumpy, Dad.” Tor grinned, patting him on the head, making him slash the air with his knife. “You’re about to fulfill that bloodlust. Just don’t go killing all the witnesses, m-kay? Knoxe needs someone to torture for answers.”

“I’ll torture you for touching my daughter,” Loco muttered, and walked away disgusted.

“Dad!” Astra laughed. That was the first time I heard her call him that.

Loco glanced up, his harsh expression melting at his daughter’s affection. Warm, upbeat melodies stretched between them. Love. Admiration. Respect. Family. It eased the ache in my wrist and made it easier to concentrate.

Tor clapped to signal the arrival of Selena and Knoxe. “What’d you two see?”

Someone was eager to get back into the thick of things despite fearing we ran into a trap.

Selena came to stand in front of the group the way Knoxe would to address us. “Scans reveal two men manning the device.”

Loco spun two daggers on his fingers. “I could kill two in my sleep.”

This guy had an unhealthy obsession with murder.

“All right, Dad. Show us what you’re made of.” Tor jerked his head, urging Loco to lead the charge and go first.

Accepting the challenge, Loco made a break for it, getting halted by Selena’s grip on his arms. “We’re all going in. No maiming or killing. Take prisoners only.”

I didn’t entirely trust Loco would stick to the brief without spilling some blood or chewing some body part off and spitting it out.

Selena’s finger swung my way. “Team One, you take the southern flank.” Team One consisted of Astra, Knoxe, and me. “Team Two, we take the northern.” She eyed us all. “Use the radio for reports or if you need help. Split up.”

Astra, Knoxe, and I took the path south to the building. Two men on her team without magick felt very risky. Like a set-up for failure. Nerves turned in my stomach like someone switched on a washing machine. An order was an order, my father used to say, and as a soldier, I obeyed, even if it sent me to my death.

Rubble crunched under our boots as we crept up to a collapsed brick wall foundation, and Knoxe motioned for us to stay low. He pulled out a pair of binoculars to take a closer look, leaning around the corner of the bricks, and scanning the target building. The three fingers he held up signaled the number of fugitives.

“Pascal, I want you on the gun and Astra on the bombs.” Knoxe put away his binoculars and removed a dagger and stun gun. The two of us had better accuracy than Astra. “There are three men inside sitting on camping chairs, guarding the portal device. It looks like they’re camped there for the night.”

Astra unbuckled two bombs.

Knoxe’s knuckles went white from his grip on his weapons. That spelled he was out for blood. “Keep an eye out for men on the roof or jumping out of nowhere.”

“Yes, Knoxe.” My chest pulled at the lack of connection to my music and gift. I felt bare, unprotected, and vulnerable. I tried to shake it and the rising nerves off.

Another flick of his fingers beckoned us to move out with him in the lead. Astra, and I took up formation on either side of him, approaching from an angle out of direct line of sight. Worry lodged in my chest at leaving my girlfriend exposed. She was the reason for everything. My acceptance by my brothers. My newfound confidence. The love I never thought I would get the chance to have. An invisible hand tightened on my throat.

When we got within shooting range, Knoxe hissed, “Fire,” and I lifted my weapon, discharging five rounds, blasting the windows of the abandoned commercial property. Glass shattered and tinkled on the ground. My back hit the brick wall and I listened for motion inside. Startled male voices shouted. Music tugged at my chest trying to interpret the meaning of their emotion, but I couldn’t decipher it. Burning with irritation, I stretched forward, fired and caught the first guy in the shoulder.

Knoxe made us practice hitting targets on the move to hone our skill for missions. Chasing gantii didn’t always allow us to be stationary to get the optimum shot. The exercises did us a world of good, and rocketed us up the sentence reduction tally for our efficiency and accomplishment.

I struggled to hold onto that success rate, but it trickled through my fingers like grains of sand. Shots fired astray as my confidence unraveled. Every stray round sent my insides up in flames.

One man grabbed the box, snapped it closed, sliced open a portal and disappeared through it. Emergency procedure, no doubt. The two remaining crouched low behind a ratty old chair and fired their weapons.

Astra hunched low to the ground, prevented from lobbing her grenades inside by the back and forth fire. “I need to get closer to throw these.”

“I’ll get you in there.” Knoxe kept firing, blasts exploding off the sofa, burning the fabric, creating little flames on it, forcing the fugitives to stay low.

“I’ve got your back.” I lifted Astra to her feet, and we pushed into a run.

A shooter sprang up in a purposeful break from Knoxe and he took him out. The other guy cursed and tried to crawl away to the door at the back of the room. Determined to succeed without my magick, I got him in the heel, and he slumped to the ground.

Astra grinned at me and prodded me with her elbow. “Steal my thunder, why don’t you, White Lightning?”

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