by Lauren Quick
“Yep. That’s my good deed for the day.” Honora noticed that Z and Candy were helping Vanderkin. “Where’d Dick go?”
“He’s sitting in the throne. I said he could before we tore this whole little compound down.” Rosalyn gripped an ax.
“I can’t wait to see that.”
Honora sat at the bar, downing a mug of hot cider. She’d turned down the winter pine whiskey. She wanted to keep her wits about her. It was her turn. She hopped up and took an aggressive stance. A hush filled the bar. She balanced the blade in her hand and held it in front of her lips, the sharp edge so close she could kiss it. She eyed the target and launched the weapon across the room, hitting the center of a huge metal shield. Dead center. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause.
“If you keep winning, Rosalyn is going to have to mount a knife on the wall in your honor,” Ren said, his face beaming with pride. He enveloped Honora in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet to the catcalls of the other trackers in the room.
Honora gave Ren a peck on the cheek, earning the approval of the crowd, and made her way back to her stool. “I could live with seeing my magical prowess with a knife immortalized on the wall of axes. Blades need to be better represented.” She nodded to Rosalyn’s magical axes proudly displayed on the wall.
Rosalyn snorted. “You’re talking to the wrong crowd. Axes are king in the north. Knives will always be appreciated, but remain second fiddle.”
“Axes might be king, but Honora Mayhem is my hero.” Ren raised a glass of winter pine whiskey in toast. “To the strongest, bravest, kindest, most patient witch I’ve ever known.”
“Here, here!” Rosalyn said and downed a shot.
Honora gazed at them skeptically. “Who is this wondrous witch you two are talking about? Because I assure you, I’m not the least bit patient.” She smiled and snuggled against Ren’s shoulder.
“That’s a stretch. I don’t know many witches who would have been so kind to Trix,” Rosalyn said. “Even the witches who know her.”
“I took some convincing, but Ren was right. She needed help.”
After the medicine had begun to take effect, they’d loaded up the snowcrafts and taken Trix and Vanderkin back to town to see the healer. Honora and Ren even went back the next day to check on Trix and make sure she was healing. The ice witch had been grateful and apologetic though strangely she didn’t remember much of what happened, claiming the past few days were a blur caused by the sickness. Honora could hardly blame her. She’d recommended they all forget the whole thing and move on. Ren agreed not to press charges with the sheriff.
Honora and Ren spent the rest of the weekend nursing Timber back to health and cleaning up his cabin. Ren also taught Honora a few home repair and cleaning spells that were practical but not very romantic.
She hopped onto her bar stool, a smile blooming on her face. “Ren has promised me that our next date will not involve knives, axes, rescues, repairs, or cleaning of any kind. I’m envisioning massages, a warm sandy beach, and strawberry daiquiris.” Honora’s head tilted back, her eyes half closed dreamily.
“I’m making mental notes as you speak, my queen, and promise to make this weekend up to you,” Ren said, joining her at the bar. “Now let’s order dinner. I’m starving.”
Rosalyn handed them both menus. “You better come and visit us again soon. But under friendlier circumstances.” She nodded across the bar. “Vanderkin over there wants to take you out hunting with him in the forest. Wants to use you as a scout. Thinks you’d be great at it.”
“Does he hunt in the summer? Because next time I come back here, there won’t be a trace of snow or ice on the ground. I’ve had enough winter to last me a lifetime.”
“Fair enough.” Rosalyn gave her a wink.
About the author
Since she was a little girl, Lauren Quick has been a believer in the unbelievable. She loves all things fantasy from fables and fairy tales to high fantasy and urban paranormal and everything in between, especially if witches are involved. “The more magic, the better” is her motto, and if a mystery is involved, then she’s all in. She lives in Maryland with her family and familiar cat, Sadie, that has so far shown no magical tendencies, but there’s always hope. For more visit her website at www.laurenquick.com
Also by this Author
The Mayhem Sisters
Fly By Midnight, Book 2
Midsummer Night’s Mayhem, Book 3
