The Witching Hour: 11 Enchanting Novels Featuring Witches, Wizards, Vampires, Shifters, Ghosts, Fae, and More!, page 185
“Is this your first time here?” Dante askesd.
“Yes. I’ve wandered around Europe, but I’ve never had reason to come to Croatia,” I said.
“It is one of my favourite places in the world. I have some good memories here.”
The city itself was a study in pale cream with dark green vines and hardy plants climbing up some of the smooth tall walls that blocked my view. I was itching to get out and look around. Something about the place called to me and made me feel so much more alive.
“No cars in the Old City,” Dante said as he parked in the last space on the road outside of the city walls.
A number of handsome guys in nothing but board shorts were handing out pamphlets selling kayaking trips out to the islands and such. I took one to be polite and wished that we’d be there long enough to enjoy something like that. That was the downside to the ‘mercenary’ thing. I travelled to wonderful places, only to have to work the entire time. Dante wrapped his arm around my waist and guided me through the throngs of people into the walled city. The floors were smooth cream stone that spoke of many decades of use. I wanted to pause and look at the details of everything, of the grand archway that led into the city proper. Then, we turned a corner, and we were there, on the main street of the old town.
It was wide and full of tourists pausing to look in the souvenir shops and lounging out in front of the cafes and bars enjoying the beautiful, warm sunny day. I envied them. At the far end was a courtyard-type area with many tables and umbrellas gathered together where a musician was setting up to begin playing. Dante led me down the second turning on the left, which took us into the shade of a narrow alley with a large number of stairs to climb. The shops and pubs were set back into the buildings that sprawled above us. People sat on the shallow stairs laughing and talking as we walked past them. We were most of the way to the top of the very long staircase when Dante pulled out a key and opened the simple blue door to our right.
“Welcome to your temporary home,” he said with a smile.
The interior was a slightly darker cream than the outside had been, but it was simple and stylish, as I’d come to expect from Dante. The floors were smooth cool tile with white-washed walls and shuttered windows. There wasn’t much furniture: a sofa with a bamboo frame and a large table that would be perfect for spreading the paperwork out over. The kitchen was small, but still twice as large as my sad excuse for a kitchenette at home. Then, I wandered upstairs to find my bedroom. The bathroom sat between the two bedrooms, both of which were spacious, cool, and simple. It was perfect. I dropped my backpack on the bed of the bedroom at the back of the building and turned around to see Dante leaning on the doorframe.
“Is it to your tastes?”
I restrained my urge to grin. I didn’t remember the last time I’d stayed somewhere so nice.
“It’ll do,” I said with a smirk.
“We’ll go and visit the hedgewitch first, then I’ll take you to dinner. We can start the investigation proper in the morning.”
A thrill ran through me at the dinner part. It was ridiculous, but I couldn’t help myself. My phone buzzed with a text from Kane. He’d be landing in a couple of hours. His accommodation was ten minutes’ walk outside of the Old City, so close enough, should I need him.
Dante had tensed. “Kane, I assume.”
“He just got on his plane. He’ll be here in a few hours.”
“I trust he can make his own dinner plans.”
“He’s a big boy, I’m sure he’ll manage.”
Dante relaxed some and pushed off from the doorway. “Then, if you’re ready, we’ll go and speak to the hedgewitch.”
“Sounds good,” I said, feeling like a spare wheel. I had no clue what I was supposed to ask.
I left my backpack in the bedroom and tucked my daggers in sheaths on my thighs. They had been bespelled with invisibility so they wouldn’t alarm people. Of course, if they saw me pull the daggers from thin air, they’d be rather alarmed, but that was a concern for another time.
21
The hedgewitch had a small shop in the outskirts of the old town. The small stone building faced the outer boundary wall, which had small archer’s loopholes that I could glimpse the sea through. A multitude of flowers grew in ceramic pots outside of her shop, and delicate deep purple vines grew in a perfectly symmetrical archway around her open doorway. The window looking into the shop itself was small and dark, but I could smell the rich floral scents. Her bloodsong was a quiet whispering tune that sang of loss and dying hope.
Dante stepped down into the cool shop, which was packed to the brim with dried plants, small bottles of powders, and liquids that I didn’t dare touch. None of it was labelled, at least not that I could see. The shelves lining the walls were all white-washed what looked like driftwood from the odd curves and slight twists. It gave everything a very natural feel. When I looked closely, I could see there was a logic to the chaos, but I would still have been entirely lost if someone had asked me to retrieve something in particular.
“We’ve been expecting you,” a reedy feminine voice said from the back of the shop.
“Yes, we’re from the Council. We arranged a meeting,” Dante said as he shifted his weight to protect me from the witch.
I stepped around him and smiled broadly at the willowy woman with pale brown hair and deep blue-grey eyes that spoke of deep sadness. I didn’t need Dante to protect me, especially not from a harmless hedgewitch.
The witch’s mouth split into a sharp-toothed grin, and her eyes took on a rust colour. There went that ‘harmless hedgewitch’ theory. Her bloodsong became a deep thrumming beat as the rust colour spread through her eyes. I watched in fascination as thorn-like claws grew from her fingertips and her skin took on a deep greenish-gold colour. Dante, on the other hand, stepped forward and looked around for other enemies. I couldn’t hear any other bloodsongs. It was just us and her, and I wanted to know what had happened to her. I’d never heard of such a transformation before. I unsheathed my daggers, ready for the impending attack, but kept my focus on her change. She grew two extra teeth that were elongated like fangs. She almost looked like some fae vampire. It was the oddest thing.
She lunged at me over the white wooden counter. I didn’t get a chance to defend myself before Dante grabbed her by the throat and pinned her down on the counter.
“Who warned you? And why are you attacking us?” he growled.
Two more bloodsongs raced towards us from the street outside. I left Dante to his interrogation and prepared to take down the next attackers. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. This was what I had been raised for.
Two men practically skidded around the corner, their shoes failing to get complete purchase on the smooth stone. Their skin was turning the same odd greenish gold as the witch inside, and their elongated teeth poked over their bottom lip. The taller one with sandy hair slowed down and changed direction as though to circle around me, whereas his friend with a flatter nose and bright blue hair came straight at me. I centred myself and let my instincts take over.
I kept the shop at my back, trusting Dante could keep the witch inside under control, and that stopped the men-things from getting behind me. They had both slowed to a steady prowl as they walked back and forth in front of me, waiting for me to make the first move. I spun my blades, which drew their attention and gave me the split second I needed to dart in and a slash at the sandy-haired one’s throat. I nicked the soft flesh there, but he brought up his forearm to push the blade away. I stepped in a little closer and slashed at his inner thigh. That one struck home. He snarled as I backed off and watched for the next attack.
Their bloodsongs were reminiscent of the redcap I’d taken down in Prague, the same heady thrumming beat at the heart of it. I made a mental note to make sure I got a vial of their blood to give to Kane. He could analyse it and find out what the fuck was going on. A deep guttural growl came from inside the shop, and I wondered if I’d somehow missed a lycan sneaking in there from somewhere. The blue-haired guy leapt on me during my moment of unfocus. His hands collided with my shoulders, and his teeth were aiming for my throat. I drove my knee into his groin and slashed his throat when he pulled back and doubled over in pain.
The remaining fae-vampire thing was slowing down, his trousers were soaked through with blood, and his skin was becoming paler. He licked his lips and clumsily lunged at me. I side-stepped and threw him down on the ground, where I stamped on his throat and smiled at the satisfactory feeling of it collapsing under my heel. His eyes went wide before he died.
Dante emerged from the shop, his eyes a bright gold and the shadow of horns on the edge of his temples. His bloodsong raged and crashed over me like a tsunami. I wasn’t thinking. If I had been, I’d have given him a lot of room and rethought the whole ‘working with him’ concept. Instead, I brushed my hand over his cheek and leaned my body against him, offering him calming comfort. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.
22
Dante’s eyes met mine, and he wrapped his arms around my waist before leaning into me. His bloodsong eased, and slowly the gold receded from his eyes, returning them to their usual ice blue. He took a slow breath before he ran his thumb over my bottom lip with that sinful smirk he loved so much back on his face.
“How did you do that?” he whispered.
I laughed and stepped back, not wanting to encourage where that was going.
“I stepped in and touched your cheek,” I said as I glanced around, checking for the bodies of the weird fae-vampires.
The bodies were gone. There wasn’t even a trace of the usual black goo.
“Is there anything left of the witch in there? I want to get a vial of her blood to Kane so we can understand what happened.”
Dante’s relaxed, his flirty demeanour evaporated, and he put his hands in the pockets of his pants as a cold business-like expression formed on his face.
“Yes, she is on the counter. I’ll ring the clean-up crew,” he said before he stepped away and pulled out his phone.
There couldn’t be anything between us, as much as he was the image of perfection and I had seen hints that his personality was actually pretty good. At the end of the day, he was dangerous and, if I let my guard down, he’d get me executed by the Council. I sighed and texted Kane to tell him what had happened. He was the only person in the world I could really talk to.
The interior of the shop was in complete disarray. Broken glass covered all of the surfaces near the back of the space, powders and potions of every colour under the rainbow dripping from the edges of the shelves and coating the few remaining bottles and jars. I stepped around a fizzing lime-green puddle that looked worryingly radioactive. The witch was bent over the counter at a very sharp angle. Kane must have snapped her spine to achieve that. A shiver ran through me at the thought of the power he must wield to be able to do that. I unsheathed one of my daggers, pulled out a small vial, and opened up her jugular. Her head was twisted, with her hair tangled around the nape of her neck in a blood-coated knot. The blood was already starting to congeal. It shouldn’t have done that for a good while. Everything about the situation, from her skin colour and weird fangs to the fact they attacked at all, was just odd. It certainly didn’t bode well for the rest of the investigation.
Kane wasn’t getting into the city for a few more hours, so I tucked the vial of blood in the small pouch attached to my knife sheath and went with Dante to dinner. He remained quieter and more aloof than usual. He kept his hands in the pockets of his pants rather than putting one on my lower back, and he didn’t smirk at me once. I followed him through the bustling side-streets of the city, where the paths were narrowed by tables and diners on either side of them. The well-worn stone told the age of the city and whispered of the history held there within the walls. Candlelight flickered from the small tea lights in the middle of the tables, the sun not quite fully set yet. That led to shadows pooling in corners and stretching over the small square in the middle of the cross roads.
Feral cats slipped between the shadows and shot down the steps between the levels before they slunk beneath the tables looking for small scraps from generous tourists. They were all well-fed with bright shiny coats and intelligent eyes. Laughter and joy filled the air accompanied by the scent of the sea and fresh seafood.
Dante led the way down two blocks worth of path before he finally stopped at a table in front of a restaurant that looked like many of the others. I didn’t know what had made him choose that one in particular, as he hadn’t paused to look at the menu on the little stand at the edge of the restaurant’s territory. The waiters were all smiling locals dressed in white shirts and black trousers. They stopped to chat to the couple two tables down from ours. Dante pulled the chair out for me and I sat, feeling uncomfortable in my new jeans and such. I didn’t think I’d ever eaten dinner at a restaurant with anyone other than Kane or my parents, and it felt weird. I told myself that it was for work, that we needed to eat. There was nothing special about it.
The waiter came and lit the small candle in the middle of the table before handing us a menu. Dante ordered us a carafe of local wine, which was enough to satisfy the waiter for the moment. I looked down the menu at the array of glorious seafood. I hadn’t had seafood in a couple of years. Prague cannot cook fish. It isn’t poisonous, but some of the meals I’d tried had tasted like they should have been.
Once I’d decided, I looked up and saw the warm candlelight playing over Dante’s features. The sun had set entirely, leaving us with a dark starlit sky overhead. There was a shadow of something darker within Dante’s features. I remembered the faint smudges of horns that had been near his temples earlier, a stark reminder that he was half demon. And not just any demon, a prince.
“I’ll take you for gelato once we’ve eaten here,” Dante said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
There was an innocence to that smile. It was disarming, even though he was holding back.
“You did something remarkable when you touched me earlier, Wren…”
His voice was gentle, but probing. He leaned forward a little, his hands edging towards mind across the table. I kept my hands flat on the table, trying not to draw his eye to my spike of concern.
I shrugged. “It was nothing, really. Do we have any leads for tomorrow?”
His eyes hardened a little, and his mouth tightened. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.
“We’ll be speaking to the most recent victim’s family,” he said coolly.
The waiter arrived to take our orders, and Dante allowed me to order for myself, which was a mild surprise.
“What exactly is your relationship with Kane?” His tone was somewhere between playful and a demand.
Dante stretched back, and my eyes wandered down the length of his hard, toned torso as he did so. His gaze remained on me, watching my reaction to his display.
“He’s my best friend, why?”
Fuck, I sounded too defensive. He leaned forward and ran his thumb over my knuckles. His expression became one of sinful intent, his mouth open just a little as his eyes held my gaze.
“So, you’re entirely single?”
A thrill ran through me. There was no denying what he was getting at. I remained entirely still and resisted the urge to entwine my fingers with his and encourage him.
“Yes.”
Thankfully, the waiter arrived with our food before Dante could push any further. The expression on Dante’s face showed he wouldn’t believe me if I said I wasn’t at all attracted to him, and I definitely wasn’t a good enough liar to try and fool him.
We ate our food in relative quiet. It was beautifully fresh and exactly what I needed. The chef allowed the fish to speak for itself rather than drowning it in a sauce. The wine was light and crisp, the perfect accompaniment.
“Come, we’ll get gelato,” Dante said as he stood.
I looked up at him.
“’Come’? Seriously?”
He grinned down at me. “I love your fire. It’s rare to find someone who will argue with me.”
I stood and followed him down onto the main street through the centre of the walled city. Live music was being played by a duo over on the corner where a small crowd of people had gathered on the tables set out there. It was a slow, melancholy song that I didn’t recognise. There was a beauty about it that made me smile despite the overall tone of the piece. As I looked up at the clear night sky, I realised that I finally felt like I was home.
23
There were two gelato places on that main street. Dante took me to the one on the end. It was hard to remember we were there for business as he ordered us both two scoops each of gelato. His hard lines had softened, his eyes holding a gentle light that I hadn’t seen before. He handed me the cone with a scoop of lemon and a scoop of strawberry, the perfect combination.
He led me down to the quieter part of the city, where we sat on the steps of some official building with large pillars holding up the grand second floor.
“Gelato from that shop was the first food I chose and bought for myself. I was eighteen years old. I had been released from my mother’s custody twelve hours prior. Something about this city had been calling to me for years.” He was lost to the memory, a gentle smile on his face. “Until I arrived here, everything about my life had been chosen for me. I wasn’t allowed to eat ice-cream or anything else sweet. It was a small rebellion and piece of bliss.”
I had nothing to say to that. It was a beautiful memory and clearly one with a great weight to it.
“It’s the first time I’ve had gelato,” I said lamely.
Dante grinned at me and wiped a drop of gelato from the corner of my mouth with his finger.
