Some Like it Wicked

Darkness spread over Layton’s expression before he took two large steps toward him, closing the distance. “By whose authority, demon?”

He snorted at Layton’s dark look. Compared to what he’d seen from the Devil when he was banished from hell, Layton’s expression appeared gentle. “It would be wise to leave now.”

Layton drew in a deep breath, stretched up to appear taller and thrust out his chest. “Is she being held captive?”

That question struck Zeke hard in the chest and he growled, “She’s freer than she has ever been.” He leaned in and allowed the fire inside of him to shine through his eyes. “From here on out, your name will be nothing more than a bad memory for her.”

The warlock’s eyes narrowed as the air shimmered around them. Every hair on Zeke’s arms stood up, indicating Layton had conjured his energy-based magic. Not that Zeke was worried. Magic had no effect on demons, and if he dared unleash it, it would tickle Zeke at best.

“She’s my witch,” Layton spat. “You have no right to refuse me.” His eyebrows drew together and he snarled, “Produce her now or I’ll report you to a higher power.”

“Who?” Arlo laughed, low and deep, and he stomped a big foot against the ground. “The supernatural police?”

Layton glanced sideways as the energy in the air vibrated. “The Shreveport coven is powerful and they’ll come after you.”

Zeke would welcome the challenge. If anyone dared to be a threat to Charmstone or anyone in it, those who lived in and loved this town would show up to fight. Layton didn’t know who lived here; Zeke did. No coven could stand against the powerful supernaturals who called Charmstone home.

Now though, Zeke understood why Layton wouldn’t cross through the gates. His coven could not offer him protection. Anything that happened outside of Charmstone he could report; anything inside the town, he couldn’t.

Coward.

A pitiful excuse of a warlock whom Zeke wanted to rip to shreds. “Is her money worth that much to you?”

Layton’s eyes went huge before they lowered into slits. “That’s none of your business.”

“She is my business.” Rage burned so wicked hot in his blood that thoughts of ending this threat filled his mind. He hungered to rid Bryanna of this warlock who had mistreated her. “She no longer belongs to you. She is mine.”

Layton stared at him hard, then threw his head back and laughed. He finally looked back at him and he might as well have spit on Zeke, since that look of disgust filled his face. “Bryanna would never belong to you. Besides, she’s only been gone less than a day. Please, a demon, as if she would sink that low.”

“Uh oh,” Arlo muttered, taking a step back, and his giant foot thumped against the gravel road.

Layton’s laughter died off as Zeke took the final step to reach him, now standing nose-to-nose with the prick. “I’ll look the past the insult, warlock. But I will do whatever I must to ensure you don’t destroy what I’ve built up.” He leaned in, allowing all the evil inside of him to register in his eyes. “Her money is no longer yours. Your control over her has been broken.”

Layton took a step back, perhaps at what he saw in Zeke’s eyes, but then the warlock’s magic rushed from his palms. A brutal wave of energy blasted Zeke in the chest, sending him flying through the air. He landed hard on his back and groaned as pain shot up his spine.

Raising his head, he discovered Layton backing away from him. Yes, you should be afraid. “That, warlock, was a mistake.”

Chapter Seven

Bryanna finished putting her hair up into a ponytail after her long bath. Before she’d gone to the employment office, she had discovered a clothing store on the way and had bought some comfortable clothing. She’d dropped it off at home before her trip to Nevin’s, which had been hell on earth. She hoped for her sake that the next employment office Zeke took her to tomorrow would result in her actually finding a job. A witch needed to be productive.

After she slipped into her black yoga pants and purple cotton t-shirt, she exited her small bathroom with the antique clawfoot bathtub and entered her country-style living room. Leaning against the doorframe, she sighed, gazing over the microfiber brown couches, dark oak tables and the rich green plants in the space.

Heaven.

With a smile, and craving a tea, she strode forward, but then she gasped, dropping to her knees. The sensation of magic swept across her, stealing her breath.

Not just magic; familiar magic.

She shut her eyes, fighting through the deep pain in her chest at the reminder of who that magic belonged to. Zeke had made her forget her misery and now it returned in full force. But why was she feeling this now? And with such intensity?

After a moment to catch her breath, she glanced down at her arms, noticing the hairs standing up. Layton’s here. She pushed off the ground and hurried out the front door.

The second she stepped outside, the warm breeze caressed her skin as loud grunts and curses filled the air around her. Grabbing her shoes from inside, she had them on her feet in a split second.

Leaving her front door wide open, she ran toward the fight, hoping and praying her assumptions of who was fighting were wrong. But the moment she rounded onto Main Street, the force of energy Layton used with his magic stole her breath.

She rushed forward and with each step she took, the thicker the air became with Layton’s magic. And the second the gates of town appeared, she saw why.