Page 94 of Witch Undecided
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cora
We were back outside The Order. The music was pumping, outdoor heaters melting the ice in the air so that crazy, unsuspecting humans could totter about in ridiculously high heels, mini-skirts, halter necks, and T-shirts totally inappropriate for the weather.
The revenants must have been having a field day the last couple of weeks, getting their snack on.
It made me sick.
I pulled my jacket down to cover my weapons belt, not that I’d need them with a negation spell ready to launch off my tongue. We had no idea what the glamour covered so we’d dressed for a club, tight slacks and jeans and cleavage-showcasing tops. I’d pulled my hair back into a sleek French braid, Poppy had her bubble-gum tresses loose so they fell down her back in a curtain of delicious pink. Jessie had her curls piled on top of her head and Sloane had styled her silver pixie cut with a little hair wax, giving her a funky look and sharpening her cut-glass features. I couldn’t stop looking at her.
We looked hot and kick-ass walking up to the club, not that anyone paid much attention to us. The Elites’ runes kept us from attracting too much attention.
Lauris sat in the car, engine idling for a quick getaway in case the bracelets turned out to be duds. I’d filled him in on Bramble’s whereabouts and noted the relief on his face. He obviously cared about the pixie.
Sloane reached the doors and the bouncer barely glanced at her as she walked through.
“He’s human,” Poppy said to me.
We followed Sloane inside the club. I’d expected a dark and masculine décor, but what we got were creams and golds that looked stunning in the strobe light. A circular dance floor could be accessed by going down two steps, and the periphery of the room was bars and seating. It looked like an arena and it probably was. A place for the revenants to circle and pick out their prey from the humans herded into the center of the room.
Sloane and I peeled away from Poppy and Jessie. Were the bracelets working? There was no chance of knowing until we came across a warlock.
The Elites had tattoos. Runes that acted like a warlock alarm. I needed to get myself one of those, because right now I was clueless. We had no idea how many warlocks were in the building tonight, or how many humans hosting revenants were present. Would the bracelets work on them?
The crowd was thick, bodies moving to the music, making it impossible to get a good view of the place. Sloane reached for my hand and laced her fingers with mine, keeping a grip on me as we wove through the crowd.
I’d never held hands like this before. It was distractingly nice. Like she was taking care of me, which was stupid because she was simply making sure we didn’t get split up, but…nice.
A guy bumped into me, and Sloane tugged me closer, turning me to face her. One hand remained laced with mine, the other came up to rest on my hip. She pulled me close, head dipping so her mouth brushed my ear.
“Warlock at two o’clock. Brown hair, cream blazer, black shirt. Is he looking at us?”
I leaned in toward her and turned my head slightly, gaze flicking over the crowd until I spotted the warlock. His attention wasn’t on us, but on a group of women sipping cocktails. His lips curved in a smirk and then he jerked his head slightly. Something detached itself from the wall behind him—a crimson globule.
A revenant.
It formed quickly and drifted over to the group before circling to pick its prey.
I turned my head back to Sloane and my lips brushed her neck. She sucked in a breath and my pulse sped up.
“Revenant on the move.” My voice was a whisper, but the flex of her fingers on my hip told me she’d heard me just fine.
She pulled back slightly, her cheek brushing mine, mouth millimeters from my lips.
“Let’s go bag it,” she said.
Fuck my pulse.
I nodded mutely and allowed her to pull me across the floor. We headed in the direction of the group of women. There was a bar not too far behind them, so Sloane adjusted her trajectory to look as if we were headed there.
She tucked in her chin and spoke into her comm as we went. “South side, middle bar. Revenant sighting.”
The revenant slammed into one of the women, and she peeled away from the group and headed toward the shadows at the periphery of the club.
“Revenant on the move,” Sloane said into the comm.
We got to the bar and pretended we were waiting to get served. The warlock was still people-watching and we didn’t want him seeing us follow the revenant. Long minutes passed and Sloane’s jaw began to tick. She was agitated, and to be honest so was I. We were in the Order’s territory with only thin leather strips and charms to shield us. The warlock hadn’t noticed us, but that didn’t necessarily mean the glamour was working. He might just have been focused on hunting for prey for the revenants.
