Page 121 of Son of a Witch

Urgency turned my stomach upside down at every second we wasted here. “We’ve got to do something. Get to the Watch Tower.” I ran a shaky, clawed hand down my jaw. “Pascal’s in good hands with the doctors. He’ll live to fight another day. Astra’s fate is yet to be determined and in our fucking hands.”

Fire licked at my veins. I was losing it big time. My girl was gone. She was my everything. The one thing that kept me together when everything else fell apart.

Knoxe kept his arm curled around me and tugged me out of the room. I didn’t remember the walk to the Watch Tower. Didn’t remember a single step. Only the dread twisting inside of me, coiling my insides in a series of sailor’s knots.

Ben poured me a coffee and held it out to me. I didn’t know when he got here or if Knoxe hailed him. I took the disposable cup with shaky hands.

My brain turned into a fried fucking mess as I scoured social media for any report of vampires or gantii. Nothing. Not a single damn report. Styx had vanished. Probably had help from Devon and Edwardo on how to evade our detection. Seemed fitting for them to hook up. All evidence pointed to it. Limited computer ability prevented me from connecting all dots. A pattern that tied all of Vartros’ evidence together into a tangible narrative.

I slammed my fist on the desk, and the keyboard and mouse rattled. “Where the fuck is Supergal?”

Knoxe stabbed fingers through his disheveled hair, messy from running his hands through it over and over. “I don’t know. I can’t find a thing.”

“Fuck.” I kicked out my chair as I unsteadily launched to my feet.

A comic caught my eye. Something Pascal left in here the other day. Cupid’s Vengeance. My brain snapped with an idea. That was it.

Pascal, you fucking genius!

Left with no other option, I did what I had to. I summoned my king. The god of thieves. The one who held all the answers.

“Mads. Thief avatar.” When he didn’t appear, I scraped the back of my neck, and growled, “Mads, get your ass here. I need a favor.”

Eyelids of the watchers above the door drooped, and their heads dipped. They fell asleep, welcoming the man himself into the room in a dazzle of green sparkles.

“You’re interrupting feeding time with my newborn.” His green eyes sparked with everything mischievous.

“Congrats, man.” I gave him three pats on the shoulder.

Before I got another word out, he paced the room, asking, “Where’s the big guy?”

Knoxe grabbed Mads by the collar and growled, “We don’t mention him in here.”

Mads’ eyes clouded with green. “Ah. Your warden deleted his files. Lycan, huh? Didn’t respond to antibiotic treatment. Werewolf venom.” He recited Raze’s medical chart.

Knoxe shoved the avatar against the wall, and the mischievous spark in his eyes went out. “Watch your words.”

We were already in enough discord with the current warden and didn’t need him overhearing our conversation if he listen to security footage from the camera in the corner.

“Easy there, tough guy.” Mads shook off Knoxe without much effort. One of the powers of his god Hermes to evade danger.

I knew everything about him from the comic books. Big fan. The little squeak in the back of my head said I fanboyed a little. The rest of me knuckled down to save my girl.

“The cameras failed and they’re scrambling to get it back online.” He wagged a finger in the air. “Not until I’m done here. Now what do you want?”

Last time he visited us unexpectedly, he was in a better mood. Clearly, parenthood made him grumpy. Midnight feedings. Lack of sleep. Changing diapers.

“We need your help.” Knoxe rounded on him.

I got between them and shoved Knoxe back. He got too aggressive sometimes. Habit to ward off any inmate with a large ego ready to start some shit.

“We’ll be quick.” I put on my friendly act. The one that got Knoxe to calm down and Mads on or side. “We know you’ve got to get back to your family. Hungry babies are grumpy babies.”

He didn’t smile back at me. Tough crowd. Get right to it then. “We’ve got a favor to ask.”

Mads waved a finger at me and tsked. “My debt was paid off, remember?” He jabbed at my chest. “Lucrative contraband items and a pair of flying Hermes shoes.” He glanced down. “Where are they, by the way?”

“In a safe place,” I told him.

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