Page 75 of Hellish Witch

“Dragon dicks!” I snarled, throwing down the second arrow, drenched in my blood.

My back ached as fiercely as my scratched ribs, peeking through my ripped top. Magic tingled the wounds, repairing the damage in a soothing wave.

Heat pulsed through my insides, warming me with an uncomfortable sensation like heartburn that had spread beyond my stomach.

For a second, I eyed the two arrows on the dirty paving slabs, debating taking them with me, but carrying them unsheathed was a recipe for getting myself stabbed again. My poisoned blades would have to be enough.

Guilt bit at me as I felt my energy drain into healing the damage to my back and side. I’d left Cookie and those shadow-walkers to fight off an orc horde while I fled to safety. But my presence would have only put them in more danger.

I hoped my familiar was okay though.

A sense of wonder filtered through the heavy shame.

A real life mage’sfamiliar.

My familiar.

An animal to help strengthen and channel my magic. To guide me in times of need through our mental bond.

And she was a psychotic, cookie-stealing hellcat.

I couldn’t have wished for a better gift though. Given the few-hour time difference between England of the human realm and the Hybrid Kingdom of Hell, it was probably still my birthday here.

I shook my head. I’d never thought such a blessing could be possible. Not for me.

It explained why she’d been able to heal herself. Or maybe why I could. Zoella and Alpha controlled a gorgeous lilac hell-fire, a power they shared.

Could all hellcats heal? I wouldn’t put it past the rare felines to have the ability to help others and turn their snooty whiskers up at the idea.

If I wanted to see that crazy death kitty again, I had to get myself fixed and back to Hell. I couldn’t sense her presence down any mental connection, so apparently, whatever magic was involved didn’t span realms. The thought left me feeling hollow, lonely despite only just discovering the bond.

I set off towards the mouth of the alley, boots splashing through puddles from a recent rainfall.

Warmth simmered in my middle as I walked, helping to stave off the chill of the human realm.

The sensation was oddly distracting, combining with the exhaustion from all the running and fighting and healing to sap my focus when I should be on high alert.

The portal topside was almost as dangerous as back in Hell. Most demons who lived here knew where it was, and some were enterprising enough to take advantage of those coming through.

But luck must be on my side for once, because nobody assaulted me as I stumbled down the lane, pushing my body towards the flickering neon sign on the far side of the street. Some mage had been paid handsomely to craft a magic signal only demons could see.

It guided those fresh from Hell towards its unassuming doors. Behind them lurked a den of demonic sin—a nightclub.

Because the first thing most of us needed when we crossed was a stiff drink.

And a good feed.

What I needed was information.

And if most of the demons topside got their glamour from the coven I sought, they’d know exactly where I needed to go.

More warmth pulsed through my body until sweat beaded my brow. I drew a deep breath, filling my lungs with cool air, but it did nothing to ease the growing heat low in my middle.

I felt every brush of fabric against my skin as I moved, my own clothes irritating me with their teasing caresses. Wetness gathered between my thighs, the material of my panties rubbing maddeningly against me with every stumbling step I took.

I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I shoved down the strange feelings and focused on getting help.

Though, the kind of help I wanted right now didn’t involve talking.

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