Friends With The Monsters - Albany Walker Page 0,103

into a flat line. I know—without her saying so—that she’s ready. Just the promise of retribution is enough to get her to stop feeling sorry for herself and fight just a little while longer.

I hear Gunnar’s heavy footfalls and the sound of him dragging the witch before I see them.

“This way,” Calix urges them. He’s shifted back to his human form.

“You better have clothes on,” I growl.

“What happens if I don’t? Do I get a spanking?” Calix jokes.

“Not one you’d like,” I mumble.

Gunnar shoves the witch forward, and she stumbles but doesn’t fall. Her eyes go to Aeson on the table, and they flash with greed and desire, before she looks to the left and her shoulders round in defeat.

“Unchain her,” I demand.

The witch meets my eyes briefly. “I can’t, not alone.” The lie floats through the air and flutters against my skin.

“Liar,” I accuse her, and take one menacing step toward her.

“Okay, okay.” She looks around, like someone else might help her. “If I release her, will you let me live?” The witch’s eyes dart all over the room.

I take a step back and raise my hands. “You have my word, I won’t touch a hair on your head.”

She bites her lip, as if she’s considering her options. “You gave me your word,” she confirms, while stepping closer to Aeson.

“I did.” I nod in agreeance.

The witch moves even closer and blows out a heavy breath of air. I don’t trust her not to try something. I grab a hold of her wrist as she lifts her hands to place them over the altar.

“If you do anything, and I mean anything other than unlock those chains, I will keep you alive for years and feed off your screams. Do you hear me?”

The witch blinks and swallows heavily, before finally giving me a jerky nod. “Go ahead.” I release her, and she rubs the spot I was just holding and stretches out her fingers.

Chapter 26

The witch closes her eyes, and I feel the oiliness of her coven’s tainted magic bubbling up from her. The stench of rot permeates the room, and I cover my nose with the back of my hand.

Everything about this is wrong: it feels evil, tainted in a way none of my baddies are. I glance around the room, expecting some shadow creature to be clawing its way out of hell to witness this.

Whatever power she garnered from this magic isn’t worth whatever it’s doing to her soul, or to the souls of the unsuspecting seekers that they’ve been using as a filtration system. I step closer to Grim, and he tucks me to his side, while Calix closes in from the opposite edge.

The clink of the metal releasing is loud against the stone table. Aeson sits up and bounds up the woman’s still outstretched arm.

Before the witch can do anything—such as fling the Brownie off—Aeson is at her ear, and the whispering starts. I can’t hear what she’s saying—not that I would want to. See, Brownies aren’t just deadly, skilled assassins. They’re also able to infiltrate your thoughts and then implant an idea in your mind—like a maggot that eats away at anything and everything—until that thought is all you know.

The witch’s eyes widen as she reaches up for her chest, but her face slackens while Aeson works deftly to untie a cord from around the witch’s neck. A metallic ping resonates off the concrete floor as her protection charm hits the ground.

A scream tears through the air as the witch starts clawing at her arms. Aeson hops off the woman’s neck and falls to one knee on the table, rising quickly to stand tall. I know the move cost her. I can see the raw bands on her wrist where she either tried to free herself from the shackles or the metal burned her skin with magic.

Small crinkles around her eyes tell me she’s fighting to hide her pain, but I don’t let on that I know.

Gunnar moves forward, and we all stand witness as the witch digs into the flesh of her arms, until she’s covered in blood and gore. “I’m tired of her wretched screams, does anyone have a knife?”

I pull one of the tiny blades Aeson gave me from my belt. It’s small in my hand but looks huge in hers as I hand it over to my friend. She looks down at the blade and tests the weight, hefting it in her hand a few times and tossing it up. When it