Chapter 32
BASH
Kas and I watch the warehouse from a distance. There is a Witch Killer or two coming and going from a man door on the west side of the building. That seems like their main point of entry, but there are at least three other doors by our count, plus at least four bay doors.
We’re crouched in a line of trees beyond the perimeter of the cracked and pitted parking lot when Pan, Vane, and Hansel land beside us.
Hansel has to step aside and double over, his hands on his knees, sucking in air.
“His first time flying?” I ask, half joking.
“I just need a minute,” he says.
Pan smiles to himself.
I find it funny that he tried to get a rise out of his de facto father-in-law.
If we survive this, all four of us are going to have to reorient ourselves around Darling’s new life.
Her father is one of the most famous men in the Seven Isles.
I know the Witch Killers are trying to wipe her out, but that’s just a byproduct of their twisted way of thinking.
When it comes right down to it, Winnie Darling might be one of the most powerful women in the Seven Isles realm.
She sure as hell has enough clout to swan her way into any room and instantly command attention.
I know she’d deny it. She’ll pretend she’s small and weak. But eventually she’ll have to embrace it. She’s practically destined for the top.
“You get the stones?” I ask Pan.
Vane digs them out of his pocket and hands me and Kas each one.
“How do we know if they work?” my brother asks.
“If they don’t work,” Vane says. “Then we just go in there swinging.”
“Solid plan.” I toss the rock up and catch it as it falls. It’s light, smooth and slightly warm to the touch.
“What’s our best way in?” Pan ducks down so he can see the warehouse beneath the canopy of trees. We’re on a hill with the warehouse down below where the land flattens to the river.
I point to a man door on the backside of the building. “We haven’t seen someone come in and out of there. I think our best bet is that way.”
“Hansel.” Vane turns to the other man. “You good?”
Hansel straightens and rubs his eyes with thumb and forefinger. “Yeah. All good.”
“Any advice to combat your sister?”
“She’s best in close quarters, hand-to-hand combat. She’s really good with a knife.”
“Got it,” I say. “So don’t let her stab me.”
His attention still on the warehouse, Pan asks, “How many of the Order does she have with her?”
“She usually travels with a regiment of twelve.”
“And you killed how many the other night?”
“Seven. She’ll have called for reserves.”
“So we can assume twelve again?” Vane says.
“Likely. Maybe more at this point, now that she knows I’ve defected.”
“Will you be able to kill her if it comes to it?” I ask, knowing a thing or two about going to war with your own blood. I never wanted to harm my sister, but there were moments when I really wanted to hurt her.
But if Hansel has any such reservations on it, he doesn’t show it.
“I denied myself a family for a very long time,” Hansel says.
“My allegiance to my sister is deep, and stretches back into the mists of time. We have always placed each other first. So I don’t find it surprising that the moment she found out I had another family, she decided they all had to die.
Magic or not.” He pulls his dagger from its sheath at his chest and wipes it down, testing its efficiency.
“So to answer your question, will I be able to kill her? Yes. Our mission was always to kill bad witches. Gretel no longer follows that simple law. Merry and Winnie are not bad, they are not evil. They are nothing like the witch that lured us into her candy house and tried to slaughter us for her dinner plate. And I’m no longer willing to pretend that every witch is as equally wicked. ”
“Well, all right then.” Stone in pocket, I open my wings and am relieved to feel fae magic swirling in my veins. Maybe we’re still outside the sphere of the Witch Killers’ magic bones, but I’ll know one way or another soon enough. “Let’s go kick some Witch Killer ass.”