Wildfire Witch: A Paranormal Romance (Enchanted Bargains Book 3)

1 | Zeph

Chaos. Carnage. Streaks of red in the white snow.

Central Arcanum is a mess. It’s as if a doorway to hell has been opened and demons were set free to wreak havoc.

I’m caught in a blizzard and blinded by snowflakes and taillights, my eyes squinting as I try to take in the scene in pieces. It’s all too damn much, otherwise.

There’s a massive pile-up of cars on the road. Some still have their engines running, others stand smashed from collisions caused by rubberneckers or panicked drivers slamming on their brakes. Currently, there’s a lane of traffic moving very slowly. The other lanes remain at a standstill, as they have for hours.

We’re waiting for additional emergency responders to arrive and clean up the mess, but the process has been slow as shit.

A lot of the cars were abandoned as soon as people saw what was happening. They saw the zombies tearing people’s fucking limbs off like they were little dolls, saw the traffic and knew they’d be sitting ducks.

So they fled on foot.

Not all of them got far. The trails of blood and viscera are proof of that.

My stomach turns and I have to take a bunch of deep breaths to avoid adding to the mess at my feet. The air is bitterly cold, and it stings my teeth. I welcome the distraction.

Anything’s better than focusing on what went down here.

It was a damn nightmare.

The sights and the sounds of tonight are going to haunt me for a long fucking time.

Ripping flesh. Tearing.

Screaming.

People’s bodies are so damn wet. You never realize until it’s shoved right under your nose.

Fuck.

We did our best to hold the zombies off. Even when they seemed to be endlessly appearing from the sewers, more and more of them in increasingly decayed states. Some were nothing more than rage and bone. Others were walking corpses.

All were mindless. Lethal. Monstrous.

And then, after what felt like hours of fighting them off, they dropped. Collapsed into the snow like whatever had been powering them had its switch flipped.

Since then, I’ve been stomping through the snow, dragging survivors out of the car and helping them get home. Covering up the bodies of the ones that are beyond saving.

I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

Fuck knows what actually happened here tonight. I’ve not been able to get in contact with anyone for at least an hour. And I haven’t seen Roscoe, or Rook, or Hanna since right after the zombies fell.

Last thing I saw, Hanna was using her fire to keep people warm and Rook was forcing a dented car door to open with his brute strength. It doesn’t help that I can barely see more than a few feet in front of me, thanks to the blizzard. I could use my magic to clear it, but I’m not willing to burn myself fighting a blizzard.

I’m heading toward another car with its engine running when I hear a sound that stops me in my tracks,

A whimper.

It’s high-pitched. Frightened.

Childlike.

I glance around, my eyes smarting as snow blasts me in the face. I’m right on the edge of the pavement with an alleyway behind me, scouting around to try to find the source of the sound.

Then I spot him. A little kid that can’t be more than five years old. Or so I’d guess, anyway. He’s tiny. Dressed in a coat that’s not fit for the weather and a pair of sneakers that must be soaked through. He’s shin deep in the snow since he’s so damn small.

And he’s alone.

Fuck.

I don’t know how to talk to kids. I’m too big. Too intimidating. They always wind up looking at me like I’m a giant who wants to eat them, and I’m too scared of forgetting my size and accidentally sending them flying with one pat of my hand to relax around them.

Not my kid. I reckon I’d be all right with them. Especially if they were half Silver.

Despite the insanity of this night, my mind flits back to her. Hoping wherever she is, she’s safe.

It’s been the same all night, my thoughts flashing back to her constantly, like I can barely keep her out of my head for more than a minute. I’m an addict and she’s my score.

It’s exhausting.

I’ve never cared so damn much about another person. With Ro and Fabian, they’re the closest thing I’ve got to family, but it’s not like I spend half my time worrying about where they are or if they’re safe. I don’t wonder if they’re tired, or hungry, or happy.

“You got parents, kid?” I ask, crouching down so I don’t look so freakishly big.

I really hope his answer is yes. He’s not dressed for the weather, so maybe his parents are shitty. Or maybe they weren’t planning on heading out in this weather.

He steps close until he’s practically hugging my leg and I can feel him shivering.

“You’re freezing. Want me to carry you for a bit?” I ask.

I rarely go around picking up stranger’s kids, but this whole situation is nuts, and he’s shaking like a leaf. As soon as he nods, I scoop him into my arm and balance his little butt on my forearm. He weighs about as much as my gym bag.

I then set about finding him something warmer to wear. A coat. A blanket. Anything. If I focus on the problems right in front of me, I’m less likely to lose my mind tonight.

The cars closest to me are all abandoned and unlocked, so I root around inside until I find something we can use. There’s a tatty tartan blanket on the back seat which I filch and wrap around the kid’s shoulders.

“So... parents?” I ask him.

Maybe this is how Silver winds up picking up new members of her family. She just wanders around and people flock to her like she’s the damn Pied Piper of misfits and weirdos.

There I go, thinking about her again. I don’t think I even managed two minutes that time. It’s like she’s infected my brain with a virus that’s made me obsessed with her. I keep replaying the way her face looks when she smiles, or when she’s mad and her brow furrows, but she gets this cute dimple on her chin that makes her way less intimidating than she’d like.

All I want to do right now is call her. Check in, so I can see her damn pretty face and confirm she’s all in one piece.

I can’t think about the alternative. It sends my heart racing and a rumble of thunder rolling through the air, whenever I consider the possibility that she’s not all right.

“My mom told me to hide behind a dumpster until the monsters were gone,” the kid says.

Not a bad idea. Not the best either, considering we found the first zombie hanging around by some dumpsters down an alley.

The kid got lucky.

“What’s your name, kid?” I ask.

“Art.”

“I’m Zeph.” I nod at him and continue to stride along, readjusting the blanket every few steps, seeing as he can’t seem to keep too good a hold on it. His little fingers are probably fucking freezing, but at least I’m pumping off enough body heat for the two of us.

“You keep your eyes peeled for your mom,” I tell him.

There are plenty of people milling around, looking dazed and confused, and I hope like hell we find the kid’s mom soon. Everyone looks kind of dirty, tear-stained. Some are covered in blood.

I have to keep shifting around to avoid giving the kid an eyeful of the worst of it. The piles of bloodied bodies and the random limbs strewn about. Finally, I hear sirens in the distance and see the flashing lights of the latest set of emergency responders. They’re an hour too late for some people, but at least they’re here.

“There!” The kid smacks me on the chin with one of his little elbows as he points to a woman frantically searching from car to car.

“Mom!” he screeches right into my ear and I have to fight the urge not to throw him off me.

Then the woman’s running in our direction, slipping on the snow but determined to get to him as quickly as possible.

“Arty! I was so worried.” Her voice is frantic as she scans him for injuries.

“I did what you said,” he says with a proud little nod. “I hid.”

“You did so good,” she replies, grabbing him and yanking him into her arms. She shoots me a grateful look. “Thank you for finding him.”

I nod.

And then I move on to the next crisis.

This fucking night is neverending.

As I’m passing a group of people huddled together beside a crumpled car, I catch part of their conversation and for some reason, it draws my attention.

“You reckon she’s the one that called them? Created a bunch of zombies and let them loose on the city?” A man says.

“Why would someone do that, though?”

“Nah, she looked scared as shit. Just a young thing, isn’t she? She never could have controlled those things.”

“I watched one of those monsters tear someone clean in two. That little girl couldn’t have made that happen. No chance.”

I catch sight of the screen of one of their cell phones as I skirt past. It’s a newsreel, playing the same video on repeat. My stomach twists with dread as I take in the image of the very familiar building, with its windows smashed to pieces.

City Hall.

The camera pans to a room filled with people dressed in finery. They’re all standing stock-still, staring at something in the center of the room. The camera is a little shaky as it pans closer to the zombie sniffing the air and lunging.

All the air leaves my lungs as I recognize the person it’s heading toward.

And then she’s there. Silver, my little witch, whose face I know about as well as my own. Her expression is set with determination.

... as she faces off against a motherfucking zombie.

I’m frozen in place, staring at the damn screen over one of these stranger’s shoulders. Pretty sure my mouth is gaping open, but I can’t control my muscles right now.

I’m too focused on the screen. I need to see what happens next.

The zombie collapses. Just like all the others did. As though someone took a celestial pair of scissors to them and cut the force that was keeping them alive... or at least undead, I guess.

Holy shit.

It was the exact same thing that happened to the horde of them down here.

Silver was the one that stopped them.

My girl.

Ourgirl.

Pride fills me for just a second. She’s a little badass and powerful as hell. Then, in the next moment, it hits me. The entire city just watched her do it. Pride makes way for urgency and panic, and I move away from the group of gawpers. My feet slip on the snow, but I don’t care.

I need to move. I need to get out of here and find her.

Can’t stand being away from her for another second.

Thunder rumbles in the distance, and I get another faceful of snow. Dammit. I’m losing control.

Even with the damn zombies wreaking havoc, I kept my cool. Mostly. But the thought of Silver being vulnerable has me dangerously close to losing my shit.

Gotta get to her.

First, though, I need to find the others. It’s been a while since I last saw Roscoe, and a weird feeling starts up in my chest. I couldn’t say for definite what it is, but it’s making me feel vaguely panicked and like I might throw up.

I charge up the street in the direction I last saw him. Ro must be around here somewhere. He’ll be charming the shit out of people, making them all feel better. He’ll be using his illusions and—

—I spot Rook’s massive form first, kneeling beside something.

A body.

Lying collapsed on the ground beside a bench.

I’d recognize that impractical outfit anywhere. Who the fuck wears a fancy tuxedo when it’s snowing like mad and you’re spending the night traipsing around the city?

But hey, maybe he slipped, and that’s why he’s on the ground. Fell on his ass clowning around.

The closer I get, the better I can see.

Like how he’s clutching his gut. And Rook’s hovering like a giant gargoyle guardian. I’m jogging before my mind cottons on to what my body’s doing. Slipping a little on some ice, I charge forward. There’s red staining the white, white snow.

Blood.

No.

It can’t be.

Then I’m running. The snow is right in my eyes, blinding me, but I don’t give a shit. I skid to a halt just in time, barely avoiding plowing right into Hanna, whose slight form was hidden behind Rook. Her hands are over her mouth, her eyes shining.

Rook’s hands, though... they’re covering Roscoe’s guts. Spanning across most of his torso. His hands are dyed bright red.

“I called you a bunch. You weren’t answering your cell,” Hanna says.

I pat my pocket dumbly, staring down at the guy on the ground. Like he’s not my best friend, lying in the snow, bleeding out.

“Wh-what the fuck happened?” I rasp. My throat doesn’t want to work right and my eyes are stinging.

“We don’t know,” Hanna says. “It looks like he tried to get to the bench but didn’t quite make it.”

“Found him a few minutes ago,” Rook rumbles.

“Have you called Fabian? He should be here. He can stop the bleeding.”

“No answer.”

Fuck.

I’m still semi-numb, not processing like I should. It’s probably shock or the cold fucking my brain or something.

I need to pull it together, though.

Then I’m on my knees, replacing Rook’s hands with mine, trying to staunch the bleeding.

“Where the fuck are our blood mage and Silver? We need them here, right now,” I growl, suddenly furious at this whole fucking situation.

“We can’t get in contact with either of them,” Hanna says. I glare at her for a second, but she looks teary-eyed and a stab of guilt goes through me as my fury ebbs away.

Ro’s blood is hot in my palms. He’s lost a ton of it and is still losing more.

“We need to get him out of here.”

“You think moving him is a good idea?”

I scoop up my best friend’s unconscious body into my arms, ready to charge through the streets of Arcanum.

“He’s dead if we don’t.”