you accept the going rate for glyph-work? I’ll add a bonus if you can also throw in something that keys the removal to me alone.”
Arnold shuddered visibly at that, but nodded. He licked his lips nervously when he glanced at the two Weres, a combination of avarice and fear of what those two might do if left uncontrolled driving the decision. The rate for glyphs was far above what he would have asked had he named the price himself. He wasn’t about to alert the vampire to that, either.
“Do you have anything to imbue it into? I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I didn’t bring any supplies.”
Royce looked at John, quirking a brow. The younger vampire surged away from the wall, rushing downstairs. He was back in a few minutes, looking dubiously at the pair of spiked black leather dog collars in his hand.
“These were all I could find. Someone must have taken the other box of props back to The Underground or Twisted Temptations.”
Arnold shrugged, taking them from John. “They’ll do. Give me a minute.”
He edged around Royce and Analie to place them on an end table. The mage took one and traced some symbols with his fingernail on the inside of the collar, etching something into the leather. It didn’t take long. He whispered a few words over it and the symbols started glowing pale blue.
Whatever Arnold was doing with those collars really made Analie itch. It quickly went from annoying to painful and she bit back a growl. She squirmed and clenched her claws, though she was careful to not gouge the floor. Relatively careful. Her long, swishy tail lashed from side to side. Instead of fire ants all over her skin, it was fire ants in her skin, in her muscles, her fur, her eyes—ears—lungs—stomach—heart—teeth—everywhere.
Neither Royce nor Arnold paid her any mind, though John’s attention was fixated on her.
Arnold took the first collar and advanced on the two Weres, though not too close just yet. He looked down at the collar in his hand, then at the pair. Back down to the collar. Back to the two. Then the collar. Finally, he swallowed hard and turned to Royce.
“I’m going to need a drop of their blood to key it.”
Before Royce could say anything, Mouse nicked Ashi with the sword and then swept it in an arch to let the few drops on the tip patter onto the collar, then swiftly back against the Were’s throat. The movements were a blur; not as fast as Royce, but eerie enough for all of that.
“Er. Thanks.” He held it out to Royce. “All that’s left is for you to put it on him. That will key the release trigger to you alone.”
When the blood hit the collar, all of Analie’s muscles tensed up like the world’s worst cramp. She swung her head to one side, then the other, and then let out a loud, snarling bellow that rattled the remaining windows and shards of glass on the floor.
Arnold jumped so badly his head nearly hit the ceiling. He dropped the collar, flinching back. John scrabbled even farther away than he’d been before, though in his panic he moved farther away from the door instead of closer to it.
Mouse’s gaze flicked from her two captives to Analie, just for a second, before returning to Ashi and Christoph.
Royce frowned, turning to look at the shifted Were. He kept his voice pleasant in that I’m-being-polite-now-but-if-you-keep-this-up-it-won’t-last-long tone. “Analie, that’s enough. It’s only a couple drops, not enough to do them any lasting harm.”
Christoph wasn’t usually ruffled when some Goliath was going ballistic near him. He was big and tough and manly. Right now, however, he was pink and at sword-point and lying half-naked on the floor. And there was an enraged Were in the room.
Wait—not enraged. Uncomfortable.
He looked over at Royce. “‘Scuse me, as much as I am positively itching to see Ashi get a new fashion statement, I think you should know that the next magical thing you cast or key or whatever the hell it is you’re doing, Analie is going to make a hole in your wall and possibly some people. She is not concerned about Ashi, trust me. She is in enough pain to make all you pinkies pass out.”
Ashi was watching Analie warily as she swung her head from side-to-side, growling. He glanced at Christoph. “You’re kidding me. She has magic sensitivity?”
Christoph nodded. “Right now it feels like she’s trapped in a hornet’s nest. Didn’t you notice