A Witch's Fury

by Kim Schubert

  “I am so fucking sorry,” he whispered, his hands reaching out across the table. My own clutched the fabric in my lap. I felt his hesitation; if he wanted to, he could extend his long arms, breach the distance and touch me, but he didn’t. Instead, he pushed back his chair with a screech and fled the restaurant.

  It certainly wasn’t new information that I was broken. After everything I had confessed, all the terrible memories I had shared with him, I had fooled myself into hoping. It was a foolish hope that another being could love me enough to look past the broken pieces. I knew this moment was coming, had always known that one day the blinders would come off for Blake and he would see me exactly as I am.

  Broken.

  I was a foolish, hopeful, idiot.

  The waiter arrived at the table, awkwardly holding the bill in front of him. “Did he pay?” I asked softly, unable to look at him directly. I wasn’t leaking my emotions, but I didn’t have to be for him to pick up on my pain. My body language and the tear slipping down my cheek were evidence enough.

  “No,” he answered softly.

  I nodded, pulling out my card, grateful in that moment that Grams had the foresight to leave one along with my phone. The waiter took it quickly, scurrying away. I should have ordered that entire damn bottle, not just the glass I drank. I needed something to numb the pain about now.

  The waiter returned swiftly and I forced my brain to focus on the numbers in front of me before I stood to take my leave. What was I paying for anyways, two glasses of wine still in the bottle? It didn’t matter, I just wanted to run away and lick my wounds.

  What was best for his family? I slammed the pen down on the table. As if I hadn’t saved his ass on more than one occasion? What the fuck is wrong with him?

  No. What the fuck was wrong with me? Plenty. If I could just be what he wanted, just be what he needed. Biting on my lip, I pushed down my misery. I was damaged, broken beyond repair and Blake deserved better. There was no happy ending in my life.

  I needed to accept that.

  Heads turned as I left, whispers and snickers following me, but I held my head high. I was falling apart in a pit of self-loathing, but weakness equated to challenges for my title and my life. I could at least keep it together professionally.

  I pushed out the glass door and stepped into the chill of the night air.

  Something fundamental had changed in me with Blake. Walls I had built around my heart and my past crumbled under his gentle caresses and kind words. For a brief moment, I felt worthy and dammit, even loved.

  I was such a fucking fool.

  Waiting in line for a cab, I smelled him before I saw him. I closed my eyes and turned my attention downward to my crossed arms. I needed him to leave me the fuck alone. My eyes hadn’t quite dried up and I did not need the leader of the Shifter Nation seeing me in this condition.

  “Olivia!” Lorraine, his fiancée, called out drunkenly. Fuuuuck.

  I pulled my head up to stare at her, unable to utter a word or perform any action in greeting.

  “You alright?” Logan asked, stopping short when he saw me.

  I shrugged, not trusting my voice or the concern in his caramel eyes. Maybe this whole ugly event could just stay at the restaurant.

  “She got dumped, dude,” a slurred voice blurted out behind me as Logan handed his ticket to the valet. For the love of the seven hells, please tell me Logan was not in the restaurant witnessing my humiliation.

  I closed my eyes to stop the threat of tears and to not kill the drunk behind me.

  “Oh, Olie, how terrible!” Lorraine said, coming to put an arm around my shoulders with a drunken sway and a false sense of giving a shit.

  Logan pulled her back quickly as my eyes opened to depths of pure insanity, I was certain.

  “The fucker didn’t even pay the bill,” confided the drunk, throwing a companionable arm around my shoulders. “You can do so much better than him, honey,” he tried to comfort me.

  Keeping Lorraine behind him, Logan eased forward, removing the man’s arm tentatively from my shoulder before I had a chance to remove it from his body.

  “You probably shouldn’t touch her right now,” Logan muttered, pulling me to him. I moved stiffly, staring into his eyes, needing a fight.

  “Let me give you a ride home,” he said cautiously, as though I would snap any moment.

  He was right, I might.

  I said nothing as the valet drove up in a tiny sports car with a miserably small excuse for a backseat. If not for the drunk still calling out to me, I would have preferred the roomier backseat of a cab, but in my current state I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I knew what I was capable of, however, and that thought made me shove my tall frame into the cramped backseat.

  “I hate this car,” I murmured under my breath. Actually, I hated a lot. The fancy restaurant, of which I couldn’t recall the name, the drunk behind me, but most of all, myself. I couldn’t fault Blake for ending it—hell, I could understand. I just had hoped it would last.

  Logan sped away from the corner. “Lorraine, move your seat up,” he scolded.

  She huffed but obliged. “Thanks,” I muttered, gaining a precious few inches for my long legs.

  “How did you get reservations there, anyways?” she asked hauntingly. Good to know that out of the public eye, she was the same old bitch I detested.

  “I didn’t,” I responded blandly, looking out into the rain-damped night and feeling my heart beginning to shut down. If I was lucky I could rebuild those precious walls, maybe. I would never make the same mistake of letting another in as deeply as I had Blake.

  Logan and Lorraine were fighting and I didn’t care, couldn’t bring myself to give a shit, even when Lorraine lobbed insult after insult at me. She was a lowly, cruel human. I had no use for her.

  My phone rang, pulling me from my miserable circle of thoughts. For a split second I hoped it would be Blake, but Grams’s name appeared instead.

  “Yep,” I answered, disappointed.

  “Olie, Blake just delivered your things to the manor.”

  “Yep,” I repeated, my heart hollow.

  She paused for a moment. “Are you alright?”

  “I don’t know how to answer that question. I’ll be there in a bit.” I ended the call, glad our earlier fight had been forgotten, though almost certainly not forgiven.

  I had made the decision on a previous case, when a vampire visiting The Centennial House kidnapped Tommy, that I wouldn’t be spending any additional time at the manor. Good idea in theory, but over time, I found I was physically and emotionally unable to abide by those rules. The simple fact was that I missed the screaming hellions under my watch, especially Tommy.

  Aside from his impressive tech skills, he kept me sane.

  So I doubled security instead.

  Logan’s phone rang and he hit ANSWER on the steering wheel. “What’s up, Darren?”

  “Did you hear about Olivia?” Worry clouded Darren’s voice.

  “Yeah, actually we are giving her a ride home,” Logan answered while making a turn.

  The fast clicking of a keyboard in the background stopped. “I guess I don’t need to track her cell phone.”

  “No, I have her. We will be at the manor in fifteen minutes.”

  “Did you find her?” Kass’s anxious voice broke in over the speakers.

  I groaned. “Why is everyone freaking out?” I yelled. “I got dumped, not killed. Fuck. I will be back to the manor any minute.”

  “Olie, I was worried…” Kass began, her pause telling. Another person carefully wording a response because of my fragile emotional state.

  “I’m fine Kass, now really isn’t the time,” I growled, rubbing my temples. I did not want to be pitied. I might be a broken, rage-fueled, alleged demon, but one man would not shatter me.

  “Okay, I’ll see you in a bit then,” she finished, her relief evident as she ended the call.

  “No fucking way,” I muttered. I knew the best wa
y to get my mind off the hell my heart was going through: work, a lot of work.

  The drive was shorter than I anticipated, or perhaps my attention was simply elsewhere. I was surprised when we stopped in front of the manor’s tall doors and Logan got out, pulling the driver’s seat forward so I could contort my way out.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, taking his hand to disentangle myself from the backseat.

  I couldn’t look at him, but I needed to. As his partner on the Shifter Council, I had to. I had to see the dark glee in his eyes at my pain.

  Pulling my gaze off the cobblestone driveway, I met his caramel depths. His hand still intertwined in my own, he gave a gentle squeeze. There was no joy at my misery, only compassion, and it threatened to break me all the more.

  “I’m sorry, Olie,” he said, gently and unexpectedly.

  I nodded, unable to voice my thanks, choosing instead to storm into the house. I froze on the steps, however, staring at my SUV parked in the driveway. It was planned, he knew it was coming. Closing my eyes, I lost the fight as weakness dripped wetly down my face.

  Grams greeted me at the threshold, uncertain and wary as I closed the oversized door quietly behind me. She wasn’t the cause of my pain, not currently. I shouldn’t take it out on her.

  “I’ll take those cases back now,” I said softly, heading upstairs.

  Her soft steps echoed behind me up the stairs and into her office, where I rummaged through her desk for the files.

  “Are you certain that is a good idea?” She moved to my side, resting a hesitant hand on my shoulder.

  “I am certain. Nothing good can come of my staying. At least on the road…” My voice cracked before I regained control. “On the road, no one will have to deal with my misery, and my anger will have an outlet.”

  She nodded, pulling her hand back while watching me closely.

  “I’ll have the rest of the files scanned over to you.”

  Why had I picked here for Grams’s office? I asked my subconscious, which answered, probably because I didn’t have a room here anymore. We were damn near at capacity and I had been staying at Blake’s when in town.

  I quickly turned away from those thoughts, accepting the file Grams handed to me, the one that I had been unable to find.

  “He isn’t worth it, Olie. You deserve better.”

  I didn’t mean to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. “I am a fool for believing anyone could ever love me.”

  “Oh, Olie,” she said, reaching out again.

  I pulled away, blinking back the sting of tears that just wouldn’t fucking stop. “I have to go,” I said, fleeing the safety of the manor.

  I let the tears out along a deserted stretch of highway two hours out of town, sobbing until my throat felt raw and my stomach muscles hurt. Only a few headlights dotted this remote landscape as I made my way north to Pennsylvania. It would take me sixteen hours to make it there, to hunt down and kill a rogue vamp that had been taking out its nest mates.

  Sixteen hours and then I could kill something. It couldn’t happen soon enough.

  Chapter 5

  I drove straight through, only stopping for gas, water, and an occasional bathroom break. I ate once and it sat badly in my stomach. So, when I finally arrived at the small town of Wellsboro, I was primed to do some soul cleansing damage. Typically, I went to the source of the complaint first, asked a few questions and gathered some intel, but not today. Today caution could get lost.

  Today, in the setting sun, I marched up to the dilapidated barn and threw open the rusted red door, sword in my hand.

  “Come out and play, bitches,” I taunted.

  Several shadows moved rapidly over the rafters and I smiled. There was more than one.

  …

  I popped the trunk open and took out the baby wipes and a garbage bag. Those fuckers bled on everything. Stripping out of my now soiled black shirt, I used the wipes to clean my skin as best I could, along with the leather that wouldn’t absorb the vile remnants of a vampire nest gone mad.

  I heard the steps approaching me before he cleared this throat. I made no attempt to hurry my process. If he was here to try and kill me, I’d be pissed it was after I had cleaned up. Given his attempt to announce his presence, however, I was betting he wanted to talk about the vampire issue.

  “Are you here to take care of the problem?” he asked uncertainly, coming around as I pulled a clean shirt on and tossed the bag of filth into the back.

  “Problem is gone. Call whoever you reported this to and they’ll come clean it up,” I said, slamming the tailgate and making my way to the driver’s door.

  “You just got here,” he argued, confused.

  “I work fast,” I called over my shoulder as I climbed into the SUV and started the engine. I called Grams.

  “Olivia,” she said on an exhale, clearly relieved I hadn’t gotten myself killed.

  “Wellsboro is done, next?”

  Silence met my reply, but I waited. She knew me well. She understood I had to do this, it was the only thing left in my life that had meaning.

  “Ohio looks to be the next in line,” she rebounded. “I’m scanning over the report now.” All business.

  “Great.” I answered, ending the call. Fucking Ohio. Again.

  …

  I zigged and zagged across my territory, killing anything and everything in my path. The calls from Kass, Jerry and even Darren had stopped coming and I was glad. I had nothing to say to any of them.

  When Becky from security called me, however, I picked up on the first ring, curious and slightly worried.

  “Hey Olie, I know you are busy but I want to run a few things by you,” she began, chomping on her bubble gum.

  “Go for it,” I said, merging with traffic in Iowa.

  “We’ve had three attempted break-ins at the Manor, all by vampires who, as far as I can tell, are unrelated to any of the Houses we have in town—” Becky tried to continue but I interrupted.

  “Do you still have them?” I demanded.

  “Yes, what do you want us to do with them? Torture has been unenlightening,” she admitted, snapping her gum. “The only thing we’ve managed to find out is that they are here for Tate, but not in what capacity.”

  “Keep them for me,” I answered, smiling.

  “Done. Now, should we beef up security?”

  I chewed on my lower lip, “No, if we are catching them, our security is working perfectly. And I want them to try again.”

  “Gotcha. ETA on your arrival?” she asked, idly clicking keys in the background. It felt good to be treated normally, not like the borderline psycho I admittedly was.

  “Two days. I’m going to finish up this case and be back,” I said, terminating the call.

  Three vampires attempting to gain access into our compound, that didn’t bode well for Tate at all.

  …

  It took me three days to get back, since the last beast I took down managed to take a chunk of my forearm with it. I needed a full day of sleep just so I could use it again.

  Outside the Centennial Compound, I leaned against my car, debating if I should call first. Manners said I should, but my gut said I didn’t give a flying fuck.

  I left my weapons in the car. Just because I wanted to kill again, that didn’t mean this was the place.

  I sauntered up to the front door. The guards clearly remembered me, or perhaps it was the death that still clung to my clothing and hair. Either way, they called for Tate immediately.

  “You need to wait here,” a pleasant receptionist said, attempting to get me to sit after I passed the guards.

  I scoffed, “Nice try, sweetie, where is Tate?”

  Coming around her polished desk, she adjusted her formfitting suit. “I’m sorry, but he is in a meeting at the moment.”

  “Do you know who I am?” I asked, stepping toward her.

  She swallowed loudly, showing she hadn’t been a vamp for long. “Yes,” she squeaked out.

  “Do you
know what I do?” I asked, leaning closer, my voice softening on the threat.

  She nodded, properly terrified.

  “Call Tate. NOW.”

  She scampered behind the desk, hitting buttons with trembling fingers.

  “So now you pay us a visit,” Mal said from behind me. I turned to see her arms crossed over her thin form, her auburn hair loose around her shoulders. With her designer clothing, she was regal in the opulent House.

  I growled, “This isn’t social.”

  “I heard,” she said, turning away and motioning for me to follow her.

  “Do you know anything about the attacks on the manor?” I asked her back, following her lead.

  She stopped suddenly, turning back to me in shock. “Vampires are attacking the manor?”

  “Yes, isn’t that what you heard?” I asked her in annoyance. Patience was not a virtue I had ever acquired. Why didn’t anyone understand that?

  “No, I thought you were here about the wedding.” She headed up the stairs to the second floor.

  I shook my head. “Why would I care about a wedding?” I had certainly had my fill organizing Darren and Kass’s, and there was still Logan and Lorraine’s to come, which was on my to-do list. Far, far down the list.

  Mal turned on the stairs. “Because Blake is getting married to Angelina.”

  I took a step back, shocked, as a million terrible emotions pumped through me. I tried my voice, but only a pathetic squeaking noise came out.

  “Shit Olie, I thought you knew.” She stepped closer.

  I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.” I forced my fingers to release the wood banister, on which they were leaving deep groove marks.

  Mal touched my shoulder and I jerked back. I hadn’t spent the last six weeks killing shit to let my emotions get the better of me now. I was a fucking Executioner first, and a person second.

  “I think Blake is being forced into it,” she offered.

  “It’s not my business.” I forced a cold tone into my voice and eyes. How could this be happening? How little did I really mean to him? How pathetic that I was fooled so easily! My jaw tightened painfully.