Page 60 of Happily Ever Witch
Those animated noises were quickly drowned out by the sound of all the bullets being fired. Frozen-hells, they werearmedrobots! Trevelyan went diving for cover, behind a bookshelf.
The Tweedles’ limbs might only have a few points of articulation, but there were old-fashion, gangster-style submachine guns soldered to their three-fingered hands. The drum magazines matched their rounded bodies. Trevelyan wasn’t sure if that was an aesthetic choice or if Tweedledee and Tweedledum had simply been manufactured decades before. He hoped it was the former. If they were a newer invention, hestill had the opportunity to track down their builder and kill the asshole.
He slowly inched along the rows of priceless tomes, while the Tweedles resumed scanning for him. Their guns silently swung around, waiting for the next opportunity to fire at his vital organs.
Magic would be very helpful, right now. Magic wasalwayshelpful, but never more so than when you were being attacked by clockwork assassins. Unfortunately, his energy was at low ebb, because he was using his rejuvenated powers to restore his injured powers faster. Every bit of healed magic went to heal more magic, in a continuous circle. Trevelyan had thought that was fairly clever. Possibly it had been a miscalculation.
How could he fight evil androids without magic?
“Trev?” Esmeralda called from the doorway to the library. “Who is Marion Greystone and why is she looking for you?”
Inside of him, the dragon finally deigned to stir. It was far more interested in the witch than in the metallic-killers hunting them.
“Do not come in here!” He bellowed back at her, peering through the stacks of academic magic journals to keep an eye on the Tweedles.
Their heads had already ratcheted in the witch’s direction, but they didn’t fire at her. Apparently, he was the only one targeted for death. The intensity of his relief over that fact caught him slightly off guard.
Esmeralda took offense at his very sensible order. “I’ll go where I want!”
“Well, you don’t want to come inhere. Trust me.” He headed up to the second floor, hoping the Tweedles didn’t have the technology to climb stairs.
“Why not?”
“Robots are shooting at me.” There was no sense in hiding it.
Instead of retreating, Esmeralda came forward. He could hear the tapping of her very sexy boots on the pink marble floor. “Robots? Lord, what have you done, now?”
“Why are you automatically blaming me?”
“Because you must have done something to piss them off. Idon’thave robots shooting at me, because Ihaven’tdone anything to piss them off. Logic, dummy.”
“That’s not logic, it’s…” He stopped talking when another laser blasted from the ceiling and fried a shelf of wizard periodicals directly in front of him. Shit. He forgot about that thing. “Also, there’s a laser.” He tacked on and went the opposite way.
“Lasers and robots.” Her eye roll was audible. “Whatever. I want to know who Maid Marion is to you. I remember Marrok once telling me she’s his financial advisor.”
“She’s a friend of mine.” Trevelyan stayed low to avoid more gunfire, trying to steer clear of the open balcony. The Tweedles were able to get up steps, damn it. They were already following him, shooting wildly as they came closer.
Esmeralda barely paused in her harangue. “You don’t have any friends.” Her voice echoed, shouting to be heard over all the weaponry. “You said so yourself.”
“I lied. I do that a lot. I’m ninety-eight percent evil.”
“Well, how close a friend is she? Because, it turns out she’s been taking care of your body, since you were doused with that sleeping spell. The Walrus kidnapped you from her damn house.” Esmeralda headed up the stairs. “And she’s offering a fuck-ton of gold for your safe return to Neverland Beach. Likeso muchgold, that I think I might just drop you on her doorstep and cash in on the reward myself.”
“Marion predates the lesson your precious wolf taught me, about friendship being a crock of shit.” Trevelyan had never questioned Marion’s loyalty and he appreciated knowing that he’d been right. (He usually was, of course.) While he was in the coma, she’d looked after him. It warmed him, a bit.
“This has nothing to do with Marrok.” Esmeralda declared hotly. “This is aboutyou.”
Fighting robots without magic meant a lot of defensive play. Trevelyanhateddefensive play. He needed to go on offense. Glancing around, he tried to reason out a trap. “I like to think everything is about me.” He agreed.
“I like to think you’re a colossal idiot, because youare.”
“Are you mad about something in particular, darling?”
“No!”
“You must be mad or you wouldn’t have come here.” She was braving machine guns to storm into the library and scream at him. That hinted at deep feminine anger.
More footsteps, as Esmeralda continued tracking him down on the second level. She was like the relentless clockwork hitmen, only in six inch heels. “How long have you known her?”
