Chapter 2 #2
“Any strange reports coming out of that area?” Circe asked.
“I’ve got a few things from the local news,” our tech guru, Aradia, said.
She was tall and statuesque with reddish-tanned skin and dark features.
She had a photographic memory and knew more about computers than anyone I’d ever met.
“There have been a few mysterious deaths, but nothing that would jump out. I’ll check the tabloids and the socials. ”
“While she’s doing that, where do we think the Femmes are headed?
” Lilith asked, raising an eyebrow. Though she was our leader and arguably the most powerful of us, Lilith had become the president for a reason.
She was strong and independent, and after losing her warrior some years ago, she went on missions by herself, surrounded only by her sisters.
None of us liked it, but she said after watching her best friend die right in front of her, she couldn’t do it again. I didn’t blame her for that.
“They crossed into the Georgia chapter’s territory late last night,” Hekate said.
“Fuck.” Lilith pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “I’ll call Blaze and let her know.”
Blaze was the president of the Atlanta chapter, but their territory stretched up to meet ours.
“Okay, I got it,” Aradia cut in. “People on the socials report strange behavior in Biltmore Forest and Hope Springs.”
“What kind of strange behavior?” Circe asked, inhaling on a cigarette.
“Wait, that can’t be right,” Aradia said as she typed faster on her keyboard.
“What?” Circe asked. “What are you seeing?”
“They’re saying people are devouring each other.” Aradia furrowed her eyebrows.
“What? Like cannibalism?” Isobel asked.
Aradia shrugged and pulled up a video, turning the volume so everyone could hear it.
“I know this sounds crazy,” said the girl on the app.
“But what’s happening in Biltmore is a nightmare, and no one’s talking about it.
My best friend went to see her boyfriend last night, and now they’re both in the ICU.
They wouldn’t stop, and now she’s got an infection and his skin is peeling off. ”
“What the fuck?” Bridge asked. “Is this for real?”
Aradia showed another video. “This won’t be reported on the news because no one believes it, but I swear to you, America, Hope Springs is literally boiling from the inside out. I walked in on my grannie having an orgy last night.”
“Fucking hell.” I rubbed a hand over my face, trying not to laugh. It sounded ridiculous, borderline hilarious.
“This is a prank,” Morrigan, our tail gunner, said.
She had flaming red hair, almost as bright as Bridge’s, and dark eyes that contrasted with her alabaster skin.
She’d gotten her nickname from her association with animals, particularly crows.
She said she could speak to them, and after observing her interactions with them only a handful of times, I believed her.
“If something like this were actually happening, it would be all over the internet.”
“We’ve heard weirder,” Lilith said, looking at me. “Marta, Bridge, Isobel, go check it out. Report back on whatever you find.”
I nodded, pleased to have my first mission.
Hopefully, it would turn out to be nothing but a joke, but the chance to flex my skills as a Harlot twisted hope and excitement in my belly.
The meeting carried on for another hour as the prez assigned missions to the other witches.
By the time it was over, I couldn’t contain my anticipation.
Bridge and Isobel met me in the front room, crossing their arms with serious looks on their faces.
“We handle this like any other mission. It’s not that far away, so we can call in backup if we need it,” Isobel said in her Scottish brogue.
She was the most senior of the three of us, having been inducted into the Harlots almost a decade ago.
She was from a small town in Scotland, and her family traced their lineage back to Isobel Gowdie, the so-called Queen of Witches.
“We’ll ask the locals and the PD. Go round up your warriors. We head out in an hour.”
“Got it,” Bridge said with a nod before walking over to Leander, Isobel’s older brother.
They were a good team, and as far as I could tell, always kept things professional.
Isobel headed off to find Caspian, Circe’s twin brother, and I turned to the back of the room, where Atlas and Wesson sat on the couch, huddled together in quiet conversation.
They went silent when I stood next to them and cleared my throat. Wesson’s dark eyes flicked up to me.
“Yes?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
I took a deep breath and steeled myself against the hesitation burning through our connection. I couldn’t tell if it was mine or his…or both.
“We have a mission,” I said. “There are reports of people screwing each other to death in Biltmore Forest. We’re heading out in an hour.”
Atlas snorted and sipped his beer, raising an eyebrow at Wesson in silent communication with his brother.
“Screwing each other to death?” Wesson smiled and shook his head. “Didn’t know the Harlots put so much stock in tabloids. What’s next? Aliens?”
“We don’t,” I said, crossing my arms. “But it’s worth investigating. It could be a demon or a vampire playing tricks.”
At least, those were the first two things that came to my mind.
“And you need both of us for that?” Atlas asked, his sardonic tone hinting at the years of animosity between our families.
“No,” I sniped. “I don’t need either of you. But you are my warriors, and the ancestors thought otherwise.”
“Ya know, I’m curious about that little ritual.” Atlas pushed to his feet, towering over me from his height of six-three. “Who says Lilith didn’t make it up? I didn’t see that slip of paper. It could have had anyone’s name on it.”
“Atlas,” Wesson warned.
“Did you want us to be your little gopher bitches?” Atlas sneered. “Did you think it would be funny to have us cater to your every—”
“I would rather trudge through steaming hot shit than be tied to you,” I said and squared my jaw, glaring at the eldest Colt brother with hatred burning in my blood. “Either of you.”
“That can be arranged.” Atlas stepped closer, bringing his face inches from mine.
“Alright, enough.” Wesson stood and grabbed his brother’s arm, yanking him back from me. “You’ve made your point.”
“You signed up for this, remember?” I glanced between them, suddenly realizing how much smaller I was, how much easier it would be for them to manhandle me.
Luckily, I was the one with the magic in my veins.
“You knew what being a warrior would require, what it would demand. You dug your grave; now we all have to lay in it.”
Atlas rolled his eyes, and Wesson’s cheeks turned a bright shade of blush. Was he ashamed of his brother? Or did he feel guilty that he’d known they shouldn’t have come but had anyway? I didn’t care.
“Get your shit,” I said. “We leave in an hour.”
Then I turned and headed out of the estate to pack my bags for the trip.