Page 21 of Claimed
Wards?
My head whips back to the two men as their hands weave before them, streaming sparks of green and orange into a spindly web. The web glows, casting the entire space in a terrible glow.
I peer over at the demon and his bodyguard. They remain stoic, blank.
The warding is no doubt a precaution against the human authorities. Or even the local colony and pack. A way to hold the auction without interference.
Trying to calm the sudden crawling unease, I lean into my chair back. The metal is grounding.
The network of magick engulfs the warehouse in a blinding glow and I close my eyes for a split second to shield them.
When I open my lids, the press of light is no longer visible and the warehouse seems normal.
I let out a small exhale.
The woman does not smile as she takes in the crowd. I’m not sure if she knows how to smile. “Tonight’s auction will be two tier,” she says into the silence. “Our first tier will be non magick items. The second tier will be magickal artifacts and paraphernalia. Please note, because of the warding, you must remain through the entire auction. You will, however, be allowed to collect your purchases at the end of the night as long as proper payment is remitted.”
“No magick can be used inside the warding,” she adds, and several of the other bidders exchange long looks. “This allows for my team to protect all lots without worry of incident. We will not tolerate thieves.”
The wall of security at the rear of the warehouse hoists their rifles higher on their chests, the threat very, very clear.
With the warding, everyone inside is almost as human as I am.
It definitely levels the fucking playing field.
She takes in all those before her without batting an eye. “If there are no questions, let the auction begin.”
Chapter 7
Caine
I am careful not to brush the familiar weight of the Glock under my arm as a snort threatens to spill forth. No magick?
Not that either myself nor Horan need it.
Half the bidders present are vamps or shifters. Little to no magick between them. Though I wouldn’t want to test my speed or strength against either, a bullet can stop them as fast as it would a human.
They are also not my immediate threats. My gaze flicks to the dark druid at the side of the room on the other side of Horan. The male’s gaze is focused inward, intent on the flow of magick still seeping from his very pores.
The network of weaving him and his compatriot created sits like an unfamiliar coat over my skin. Probably made of cheap wool. Scratchy and uncomfortable.
Too bad for them, I worked for years to access my magick when it shouldn’t have been possible.
I lay my hand in my lap, fingers curled inward. A small crackle of red dances along my palm.
My grin broadens.
Perhaps their warding works on normal magick users, but I have never been normal. And neither is the man at my side.
I risk a glance at the fallen angel and he gives a small nod. Barely perceptible to anyone else.
His power is in place too.
I lean back in my chair like a sated cat.
They no doubt could not anticipate an angel or a demon mutt. Still, the shortcoming is comedic.
However, with the wardings in place, it means having to stay put until the auction is over unless we want to blast our way out. Ruin and the others cannot get in either.
