Chapter 5 Stuck in a Rut #3
His body relaxed, and I loosened my grip on his shirt.
“Sage was a regular customer of mine for years until she disappeared,” he replied, his voice calm and monotone.
“I thought she had just graduated and gone back home until someone contacted me and asked me to help her get transport out of Noctis. She showed up a few days ago, and I connected her to Morgana Vale.”
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
If it was my job to find Magiks, it was Morgana’s job to help them disappear. The closest I’d ever come to not fulfilling a deal and dying was a case where she’d been involved.
“Who contacted you, and why did Sage want to get out of Noctis?”
“I didn’t ask. We don’t ask. We just help.”
I nodded. Witches often seemed like they preferred working alone, or were at least ambivalent to one another, but as soon as one of them was hurt or in trouble, they would swarm in to protect them. As a demon who was used to being sold out by his own family, I admired that coven mentality.
“How do I get in touch with Morgana?”
“She gave me a summon charm for her years ago. I used it to help Sage. I don’t have another.”
Fuck!
“Did they go to Cindralis?”
“I didn’t ask. We don’t ask. We just help.”
Of course.
The cockatoo was still throwing herself against the shield I’d created, and I turned towards her and growled. “Knock it off, dumbass, you’re going to hurt yourself.”
She squawked loudly in response.
“Would anyone else have a summon charm for Morgana here? A phone number? Anything?”
“I don’t know.”
Witches were also good at not gathering information for situations like this. Made them terrible for gossip.
“What do you know, then?”
“Sage Hexwood was a student, and she wanted to make an app to connect freelance witches with other Magiks. She was a regular customer of mine before she disappeared, and it made me sad, because she is very nice.”
The shield around the parrot was starting to weaken. “Hurry up, anything else you can remember?”
“Morgana took as many pre-made scent blocking charms as I could spare. They’re not as effective as the ones you create for yourself, but I cleared out my stock for her. Sage, she… she looked sick. Scared. Lots of scars.”
“Scars? Scars from what?”
“Bites, mostly.”
My mind was swirling, a vortex sucking up all this information and working quickly to process it in the moment.
Had Victor used her as his personal juice box or something? But why? Drinking directly from other Magiks wasn’t really done these days by the upper class. It was considered “gauche.”
But if the Premier had been so inclined, he could easily have hundreds of Magiks volunteering themselves for the job. He wouldn’t need to force someone into it.
“Did she have anything on her? An expensive-looking artifact or item?”
“Besides a cat, no. She was barely dressed…”
“A cat? She has a familiar?”
“No, it was just a cat.”
As if speaking of familiars finally gave the bird the push it needed, it broke through my shield and flew straight for my head, scratching and pecking and screeching. I released my hold on the witch and grabbed the charm box, running out of the store and back onto the street.
The cockatoo slammed into the door I shut behind me in anger, its wings flapping while I straightened my jacket, smoothed my hair, and made my way back to my car, my thoughts racing with each step in fury and frustration.
This was the first real evidence I’d come across that Sage was even alive now after dropping off the face of Lundaria five years ago, but she certainly didn’t seem like some criminal mastermind.
She looked sick. Scared. Lots of scars… barely dressed…
What the hell happened to her? And would I even get a chance to find out before my contract was up? Because now Morgana-fucking-Vale was helping her hide.
I was so screwed.
I was so…
Mad.
Something about Sage’s scent had set off a time bomb in my veins, ticking slowly under the surface ever since I’d entered the Premier’s apartment, and I couldn’t hold it back any longer. A burst of power exploded out of my chest, shattering nearby windows and setting off car alarms.
I needed to find Sage, more than I’d ever needed anything else in my life. This was about more than the deal, about my soul.
I needed to get her.
And I couldn’t understand why.
A column of fire shot up in the air and I fell to my knees, grasping my horns and feeling like I could rip them out of my head if I wasn’t careful.
Everything was wrong. I’d never lost control like this before, never felt like this for a bounty before, but there was no stopping me. I burned and burned, saturating the air with the foul odor of brimstone.
Violent energy poured out of me until there wasn’t a drop left and I went down to my hands, gasping for breath.
The werewolf kid from earlier skidded to a stop on his scooter from the other side of the street, safe from the residual licks of flame. He stared at me wide-eyed.
“My mom says it’s important to get the big feelings out.”
I let out a pained chuckle. “Is that right?”
“Yeah. Do you feel better now?”
I groaned, resting back on my heels and wincing in pain. My lungs felt like they’d been barbecued, my throat ashy and raw. “A little.”
The kid nodded knowingly. “Ice cream helps, too.”