Page 17 of Spellbound & Speechless
“If you don’t mind”—Mac clears his throat—“I can probably answer some of your questions.”
Chapter 7
Mac
Once everyone leavesand the bar is locked up, we gather around the bar. The owner, her partner, a redhead witch… and Aspen. The blonde. She’s their sister, or so I’ve learned from listening in on their conversations.
“Will you give us answers now?” The owner, Juniper, asks. It sounds like less of a question and more of a command.
My jaw tightens. The wolf in me doesn’t enjoy being spoken to that way, but I can understand her impatience.
This is the first time I’ve found a corrupt witch in months—nearly ayear. I always smell them before I see them. Any wolf can smell the magic in a witch, but it’s nothing like the putrid stench of a corrupt one. They taint their souls and live on borrowed time, stretching their age past its natural length. Unlike vampires, frozen in time, these corrupt witches rot even though they’re alive.
Something tells me the locals of this small town don’t realize what they witnessed.
“She was a corrupt witch,” Aspen says before I can speak. Her voice is unwavering, but how she plays with theends of her hair gives her away, as does her scent. She’s afraid.
I wasn’t expecting Aspen to know much about the corrupt ones, but maybe that was ignorant of me. The corrupt ones are a threat to witches, too.
“Butwhy?” Juniper shakes her head. “Was she here to steal our magic?”
“Maybe,” I say, “but it sounds like she was here for a weapon. Do you have any clue what that could be?”
“No!” Juniper’s voice rises, becoming shrill. “I don’t knowwhatis happening, but you claimed to have answers, so… give them to us.”
“There’s no need to talk to me like that.” My jaw tenses. “I’m here to help.”
“You need to understand,” Ozan murmurs. “The last time someone attacked this shop, their mother died.”
I look at Aspen, but she doesn’t search for my gaze. Not the way I seek out hers. She shifts, her expression dropping. This is the first time I’ve seen her without a smile.
“I get it,” I say. “Trust me. I do.”
“Then tell us what to do.” Juniper looks at me with wide, blue eyes—almost like Aspen’s, but brighter. “Tell us everything you know. Please.”
“Have you ever met their kind before?” I ask.
Juniper shakes her head.
“I have.” Ozan shudders. “Just once.”
“Well, I have history with them. That’s why I’m offering to help,” I say. “It’s not a pretty history, either. These witches steal magic. Not just from other witches, but from everyone. The issue is, the magic they steal comes with an expiration date.”
“They need more and more.” Ozan stares at the front door. “They live a hard, hungry life.”
“It’s one they chose,” Juniper says coolly. “Doyouknow what kind of weapon they’re looking for?”
“No.” My gaze locks onto hers. “I’m going to ask again: is there anything you can tell me?”
“Well…” Juniper’s jaw stiffens. “This was once an apothecary, full of powerful magic.”
“And now? Do you have anything she would want?”
“We still have ingredients, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I’m asking foranythingshe might see as a weapon.” I pace through the room. “Something they want, or something they can use against you. If anyone has any ideas, I’m all ears.”
Everyone goes quiet.
