Page 32 of Dragon's Desire

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PETER

Peter had thought he was going to just track down Kiercy for a booty call, but she didn't answer. He went to her place, and she wasn't there. As much as the trip had been driven by lust, he started to get concerned.

It was possible she'd just gone to a friend's place to discuss her burning need to be fucked by the strapping witch hunter. Or at least that was the first thought that came to Peter's mind. But something was off. He could sense it.

He felt a tightness in his chest, it was just a gut feeling, but it was powerful. Something was wrong. He called HQ and had one of the techs there track her phone. All he had to do was say he was worried.

It made him wonder if someone was able to detect the anxious tone in his voice or what, but he didn't have to explain beyond that she hadn't picked up, and he needed to know where she was.

While Kiercy would probably be pissed that he did it, that was an issue to deal with later. If she was fine, then as long as the tech kept his mouth shut, she'd never had to find out. If she was in trouble, then he'd have to make sure to use that as leverage towards getting her to be very grateful.

The trace pulled up an address he was unfamiliar with. Perhaps it was a boyfriend's place. That could be one explanation for her "this will never happen again" spiel. Maybe Peter was the other man.

It would explain a few things, but he thought he'd better find out for himself. Whether that would calm his pursuit of her was another question entirely. And there was the nagging sense of danger that pressed against the edges of his mind.

As he drove, he wondered if he'd feel compelled to confront the other guy. When he pulled up to the address, his instincts were telling him it was an entirely different confrontation he was going to be facing.

He gathered his equipment and entered the building. He could hear a struggle and yelling from the floor above him.

Then he heard an all too familiar voice shout five words that made his blood run cold.

"Join me or be judged."

He could only hope that Kiercy still had the ability to communicate. He moved in quickly and quietly. When he got to the doorway into the coven chamber, he saw Legermain raising the Totem of Babel towards Kiercy.

Without out even a thought, he ran as fast as he could and put himself between the blinding flash of the Totem and his partner, professionally and sexually. How much of each of those categories had motivated him to move that fast was a mystery to him.

Peter was just doing. There was very little thinking involved. That might have gotten most people killed. But for Peter, fighting a witch was muscle memory at this point.

Instinct had led him here, and it was the exact same thing that had kept him alive. Even without thinking, he'd reached for his recently topped-off witch bottle and held it in front of him. Not only did it absorb the spell, but it was probably the only thing that kept the flash from blinding him.

Breathing hard, Peter turned to look back at Kiercy, smirked, and said, "Miss me?"

But that moment of cockiness cost him. He shouldn't have taken his eyes off the enemy. The punch to the solar plexus knocked the wind out of him. Peter stumbled back and saw Legermain drop into a defensive stance.

Peter had been trained in various fighting styles as part of his witch hunter training. Even from the way he stood, he started to wonder how much his opponent wouldn't have to rely just on magic in a fight.

"Oh, shit," Peter swore as Legermain came at him. His form was nigh flawless.

Peter had never fought a witch or warlock that was this good at hand to hand. It had always been an advantage he was able to exploit. If you caught a witch off guard, a solid punch or elbow strike could disorient them enough that you'd prevent them from spell casting.

And while Peter was able to keep this particular warlock too engaged in trading fist and blocks, he was making no progress in disabling him.

Then Kiercy swooped in punched Legermain right in the soft part of the lower back. While it probably wasn't hard enough to actually bruise a kidney, Peter knew the warlock felt that one. He whirled on Kiercy, and Peter was glad she had enough PEACE agent training to at least hold her own for a while.

He just hoped it was enough time. Still holding the witch bottle, he managed to pull up his crossbow and then reach into his quiver and pull forth a blessed bolt. One of these, through the heart, would certainly kill a witch.

Anything through anyone's heart would usually kill them. Still, witches and warlocks had an annoying habit of having spells meant to protect them. The blessed bolt was meant to tear through those types of protective charms.

But Peter was trying to do too many things at once. Just as he finished loading the bolt and raised the crossbow to shoot, Legermain was there. Peter had assumed Kiercy would hold him off or warn him. But he looked over to see that she was using a window sill to steady herself as she pulled herself up off the floor.

The shock of the warlock suddenly being there was all the delay Legermain needed to swing a small statue at Peter. It crashed into his hands and loosened his grip on the witch bottle and the crossbow. He had to make a split-second decision about which to grab for.

The witch bottle would keep protecting him from Legermain's spells. The crossbow would be the way to end this fight. Peter grabbed the crossbow and let the witch bottle smash to the ground, scattering shards of it and splashing his semen on the floor.

Peter's hands were still stinging as he raised the crossbow. Legermain was charging right at him. The witch hunter pulled the trigger on the crossbow, and the tension in the string released, firing the blessed bolt. But his hands were clumsy, and his aim was off.

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