Infernal Ties (11 page)

“Back to soon, Miss Hawke?” he said sweetly.

I snorted. “It seems that I require some of your alchemical things to aid me in getting Quin back.”
 

I gestured at the bottles and such scattered around about. He raised an eyebrow.
 

“’Alchemical things?’ Would you like to be a little more… specific?” he said.

I ground my teeth; my twin was in there.
 

“The headquarters is surrounded by enough magic that it feels like fizzing on my skin,” I growled.

He pursed his lips and cocked his head to one side for a moment. “You know, it’s not entirely normal for a human to feel magic like that…”

I waited for him to cut to the chase.
 

“I have a few things that will help you, for a price,” he said.
 

“Name it.”
 

He grinned. “That amulet you’re wearing and a kiss from Quin.”

I didn’t like the way his eyes danced at the prospect, but what choice did I have? I needed to get Quin back. He was so close, and the minutes were ticking away. For all I knew they could have been slowly draining his blood while I was stood there with the infuriating elf.

“Fine,” I spat.

His grin somehow widened. He practically danced around the workshop gathering small pouches and bottles. He placed them carefully down in front of me.
 

“This is the magic dispersal powder that I usually give Quin; you should be able to manage using that. This one,” he picked up a small purple ball, “will neutralise magic within a ten-foot radius for thirty seconds,” he said very slowly.
 

I nodded, trying not to throttle him for the condescension.
 

He looked down from them to me and said, “Well, what are you waiting for? A gold star?”

I glared at him and shoved the balls in my pocket before I attached the pouches to my belt.
 

“Thank you, Kadrix,” I ground out.
 

His face softened for a split second before he shooed me out.
 

“Bring Quin back in one piece,” he called after me.

What else was I going to bloody do? He was my twin, not some piece of meat.

I didn’t waste my time on public transport. Logically, I knew I should have waited until the sun set and there were fewer people around, but I didn’t care; one of the Sidhe would weave a cover story for me once I had Quin back. Enough time had been wasted; who knew what torture he’d endured during his ordeal. An older couple glared at me as I ran past them; a pair of magpies
squarked
and followed me through a few trees. That should have been my clue. Corvids are inherently tied to the magical, so witches are rather fond of using them for varying things. Magpies are quite often tied to chaos and tricks, ideal for traps around coven headquarters.

I wasn’t thinking, not logically at least. I was entirely focused on getting Quin back, rather than what was happening on a second-to-second basis. If I’d have been thinking I’d have noticed the quietness, and the stillness of the air. I’d have seen the shadow that stretched a little too far, and caught the scent of honey that came from nowhere. They were all signs of magical guardians. And I missed them. Every last one.

The snake glinted and shimmered in the soft spring light. I heard the grating of concrete brushing over concrete, but I ignored it in favour of the brute force approach. I ran up to the old metal gate in front of the back door and gave it a good kick; it rattled and magic fizzed on my skin. It seemed like a good idea at the time, that was until my old injuries began screaming and the pain began to cloud my thoughts.
 

I growled, “My twin is in there,” and pushed aside the feeling of weakness that came with the pain.
 

Guilt flickered up and wrapped around my focus. Quin shouldn’t have been in there; I should have gone with him. I was supposed to protect him. I kicked again and thrust my hand into the pouch on my belt, taking a handful of powder. I threw it at the gate just before I kicked it again; the lock buckled. I was in.
 

It was too easy. I knew that in the back of my mind. Well-made iron gates don’t buckle after a few kicks from a small woman. It just doesn’t happen like that. Still, luck was on my side at last; I wasn’t going to complain. I was one step closer to getting Quin home.

The only other coven headquarters I’d visited had been Serena’s, and I’d been invited. Even then, there were guards and protections in place. I knew that I should have paused and assessed the situation. I was breaking every rule I’d been taught as a hunter. Never rush in. Always apply caution. Pay attention to every detail. I ignored it all and ran up the few steps to the large copper-coloured door with magical symbols all over it. It looked thick and heavy. I’d never learnt how to pick locks, but I was wishing that I had. I wasn’t going to be able to kick that in, but there were windows on the other side of the building. They were high and the wall was smooth, but I was going to get into that building come Hell or high water.

 
My hand was in the pouch, ready to throw powder at the door, when the pain erupted over the back of my skull. I’d intended on knocking out the magic on the door in the hopes that it would throw off the entire system. Serena had told me that magical protections were much like an electrical circuit. I thought that if I made a hole in the magic on the door, it’d give me a chance to get in one of the windows.

Everything went bright before it went black. The last thing I felt was my legs giving out under me.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

My head was killing me. I scrunched my eyes together and went to rub them; I couldn’t move my hands from behind my back. It came back to me. I’d been outside the coven headquarters when someone, or something, hit me in the back of the head. The light was too much for my eyes when I opened them; it took a moment for everything to clear. My thoughts were fuzzy, and my body hurt more than I could wrap my mind around. The injuries from my adventures had added up, and my body was making very sure I knew that. I shook my head, trying to shake off the fuzziness and bring some sense back to things. It was illogical, but I did it anyway.

The ceilings were double-height, much like most of the rest of the city. A large ornate chandelier hung from the centre of the ceiling with what seemed to be Viennese type lamps on the walls. The off-white walls hurt my eyes from the brightness. I had to look down at the wooden floor. After a long moment, I could see well enough to get a proper look at what I’d gotten myself into.

The room was relatively bare, and large. It looked to take up most of the building. I scanned the edges looking for any sign of blood and saw nothing. Everything was pristine and spotless. My eyes settled on the far side of the room. Quin was tied up in the middle of a circle of blood-red candles. His head was drooped down, his chin resting on his chest. A gaggle of young women were milling around in dark grey robes with red seams; they giggled and chattered as though gossiping about their favourite soap actor. None of them seemed to be paying either Quin or me any attention. They all wore creepy smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes, and their movements were a little too fluid. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, trying to make things make more sense.
 

I tested the ropes around my wrist and found them poorly tied. I thanked the moon goddess. Something was going my way at last. I wriggled a little and felt the familiar pressure of my blade against my calf in my boot; they really hadn’t done a very good job. I froze and looked around the room once more. It could have been a trap. The women, some ten of them, turned to look at me. A tall blonde strode over to me; I tugged at the ropes feeling out the weaknesses as I freed my hands. She crouched in front of me, not quite close enough to kick; they hadn’t bothered to tie my legs. Had they wanted me to get free?

“How darling; you came to join your twin!” she said with a faint accent that I couldn’t place.

I smiled.
 

“Yes, just darling,” I replied.

“Do not fear, you haven’t missed the show,” she said as she stood.

The women began moving with some focus. Two gathered more candles, and another two carried a large silver bowl over to Quin’s feet. The ropes dropped. I was free. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching me; they were all too focused on other things. A brunette tenderly stroked Quin’s dark hair before she slapped him. I growled to myself but remained still. I couldn’t see any wounds on him from where I sat, but that didn’t mean much. I’d slaughter them if they’d harmed my twin. He woke with a jolt. I glanced around the room, checking that they still weren’t looking before I ran my hands down over the sheathes on my thighs; no blades. They’d had a shred of sense, then. My throwing knives were still on my forearms, though; they hadn’t bothered to look too hard. I had no doubt they felt they could depend on their magic and didn’t need to concern themselves with physical problems like knives.

I pulled my knee up to my chest and retrieved the stiletto knife there. Ten witches weren’t great odds. If I could take out the leader first, then I might stand a chance. Witches were very hierarchical creatures. If, by some miracle, the moon goddess was on my side, then they would descend into chaos if I killed the leader. Luck hadn’t done me much good so far, but I couldn’t sit there and wait for them to let Quin go.

The two youngest witches gathered up armfuls of bowls and began setting them inside the circle of candles around Quin. Small ceramic bowls in black and red were interspersed between the candles; there were a lot of bowls. I wasn’t sure my dear brother had that much blood in him. If he did, I was going to try very hard to make sure that it stayed inside him.

The women began to surround Quin, who was looking around him groggily. They all had their backs to me, but that wouldn’t last for long. I slipped a throwing knife down into my hand and stood slowly watching for any changes.
 
I threw my first knife into the back of a blonde’s neck. She dropped just as I threw another knife into the back of her sister. I had no idea who the leader was, but given the blonde had been the one to approach me, she seemed like a good starting point.

Chaos descended. Not in the way that I had hoped, but they were disorganised and panicked; that was something in my favour. They were bustling around Quin like hens with a fox. A blue fireball was on a collision course with my head; I ducked and ran at them, throwing knives as I did so. My aim wasn’t fantastic, but the time had come: I had to get to my twin. Standing around waiting for an opportunity was not an option available to me. Something sharp sliced my arm. A burning sensation burrowed its way into my thigh. I hadn’t seen the telltale brightly coloured magic flying at me; one of them must have been doing an incantation somewhere.

I focused on the warm blood that coated my hand as I slit one of their throats. I looked around wildly, trying to spot the witch who was moving her hands and chanting. One of them had to be.
 
More pain cut through my thoughts. The bitch was around there somewhere. The remaining witches were calming and beginning to think again. Two of them tried to get to Quin. They jumped, as best as they could in the full-length robes, over the mass of candles that surrounded him.

I turned my attention on them. Pain slowed me down and made my movements clumsier. They were almost on Quin when I leapt over the candles and slit the closest’s throat. I tackled the other to the ground. She thrashed beneath me. I felt her hands moving behind me as she was trying to perform some magic. My stiletto slipped from my grasp and skittered across the floor.

A brightly coloured curse collided with my chest, almost knocking me off the witch. They were regrouping. I punched the witch in the bridge of the nose with everything I had. Her eyes fluttered closed. A scream cut through the air; Quin coughed and called out my name. My attention snapped to him. He’d almost managed to free himself. Red paint marked his bare chest, but he seemed to be unharmed. That wasn’t going to stop me from killing the bitches. I would make an example of them.

A pair of slender hands wrapped around my throat from behind. I mule-kicked. My foot connected with something hard that crunched. The hands left. I didn’t bother to check what had happened to her. Quin stood slowly. I rushed over to him and checked him over quickly. He was ok. He was standing by himself, and his blood seemed to be on the inside.
 

I turned and put myself between him and the remaining witches, who insisted on throwing curses and fireballs at us. My throwing knives were in the bodies of the dead witches; I hadn’t been thinking enough to retrieve them. My stiletto was on the floor behind me. I started throwing candles. It wasn’t the best tactical decision I’d ever made, but it stopped the flow of curses for a brief moment at least.

Quin was behind me, I could feel him. He pressed the hilt of my knife into my hand just as I was preparing to throw a bowl at the largest of the witches.