A Witch's Fury (14 page)

“I really didn’t think they would come back
here,” I whispered, unhappy with myself for not even considering
it.

My only consolation was the lack of dead
bodies.

“Does a zombie bite turn like a shifter
bite?” Mark asked, scanning the area we were crawling through.

“No, but if the zombies do kill a person, the
necromancer can reanimate the body,” I answered him.

“Ever seen anything like this?” Jerry asked
softly, as though scared to break the spell we had wandered
into.

“Never,” I answered.

“It’s like walking into a horror movie,” Mark
commented as we drove by a pay phone dangling in the soft
breeze.

I reached for the file in my bag and pulled
out my phone, dialing Detective Miller.

“You really think that’s going to work?”
Jerry asked, seeing me in the rear view mirror.

“I’m fresh out of ideas.”

Jerry nodded before ringing stole my
attention.

I sucked in a breath, holding my phone
delicately as though one false step on my part would end the call
forever.

“Miller,” he barked into the speaker.

“It’s Olivia, from the Supernatural Council.
We are here, where is everyone?”

Miller grunted, “About fucking time. We are
taking shelter in the high school gym. I hope you brought back
up.”

The call ended and I pulled back to see
whether he had hung up on me or my luck had just run out. The
“service disconnected” light flashed.

Jerry increased the pace as best he could,
weaving around the obstacles in the road. Mark navigated, having
heard both sides of the conversation.

Ten minutes later, we pulled up to the high
school, a modern building entirely fenced off with light teal
wrought iron. A few dead zombies littered the lot as we parked.

“So, I guess I should have asked this sooner,
but how does one kill a zombie?” Mark asked, taking careful stock
of our surroundings.

“Head shot,” I answered, checking the clips
on my guns before tucking my blade back in its sheath at my back.
Over the sheath I slipped two long blades. A girl could never have
too many accessories.

Mark turned. “Seriously?”

“Seriously, or kill the necromancer, but I’d
like to keep her alive if possible.”

“I’m going to shift,” Mark announced. “It
feels less creepy to kill zombies as a wolf.”

I shrugged. “Jerry, you want a gun?”

“I’d prefer a sword.”

“Do you know how to use it?” I questioned,
strapping throwing knives to my thigh.

“No more than a gun.”

Mark grunted, “Stay between us.”

“I’m not helpless,” Jerry snapped.

Mark sighed, “No one said you were.”

“It was implied,” he seethed.

“Jerry! Get your head out of your ass. Mark
and I are the better fighters. You are the only magic user. We will
need you once we find the necromancer.”

Jerry turned to glare at me and I handed over
a spare dagger. “Don’t hurt yourself with it.”

With that he rolled his eyes and threw open
his door, to my horror and Mark’s. He stood there for one moment
before the horde descended upon us. “SHIT!” he cried out.

Having opened his own door, Mark was throwing
off clothing, his body hastily morphing from attractive male to
pissed off wolf.

I pushed my own door open and slammed it
behind me, pulling both guns. I was grateful Myrtle had talked me
into the extra clip compartment sewn into the harness.

I shot two that were off to the side doing a
slow shuffle to our location, being careful not to aim at Mark, who
was fighting several with his massive paws. He was trying to keep
the zombie filth out of his mouth. It wasn’t working.

I took a step forward and Jerry yielded,
stepping behind me as I took care of anything Mark missed, which
wasn’t much.

There were more than the original fifty-two
from the graveyard. The bitch witch had been busy. A few were not
human, although what race they were was beyond my knowledge.
Probably something they picked up portal hopping.

We weaved through the high school, following
the steady trail of zombies. I had emptied and replaced one clip
already. Taking in the scene before me, I realized I might have
underestimated my ammunition needs.

“Shit,” I hissed.

Mark growled low in his throat padding next
to me, in front of Jerry.

The necromancer and witch weren’t in sight,
but the original graveyard gang was beating mercilessly against the
gym doors with slivers of glass windows. Decaying hands smashed
against small sections of glass. The horde pushed forward, crushing
their own kind in an attempt to feast upon living flesh.

Little known fact: while zombies are the true
undead, you still have to feed them, massive amounts of live flesh.
That’s the primary reason no one fucking brings them back.

Well, no one of intelligence.

As one, the horde shifted, slowly, faces
without eyes, mouths rotted away to reveal wasting teeth and the
putrid stench of death.

“Lord have mercy,” Jerry cried out, holding
his nose.

Mark pawed my foot. “I know,” I
whispered.

“What does he want?”

“There isn’t enough room here for us to take
them all.” I began pushing him behind me as I stepped carefully
backwards, keeping my guns aimed. “We need space to kill all of
them.’

Jerry nodded once, his dark eyes nervously
taking in the scene before him.

“No time like the present,” I muttered,
standing my ground as Jerry and Mark moved further back.

I was really wishing I had taken more
blades.

The hallway was covered with floor to ceiling
lockers, bright shiny paint soon to be marred with zombie guts.

Heaving a sigh I stopped, widened my stance,
placed one foot slightly ahead and began taking head shots. If I
had thought of it first, we should have placed bets. Two shots
plowed into their intended targets.

Zombies as a species were not fearsome, but
in large numbers they didn’t stop, didn’t rest, and didn’t care
about being hurt. They were the perfect soldiers, assuming, of
course, one could keep them fed.

Where the fuck were that damn witch and
necromancer? The witch might not be close by, but the necro had to
be in order to give the command for the zombies to switch
targets.

Cold dread settled into my stomach.

“Jerry, get Mark into the gym. Find the
witch!” I screamed, stowing my guns and cleaving a path through the
zombies for them with my twin blades.

“Hurry!” I urged them on, hoping I wasn’t
right.

My blades twisted and turned, faster than the
blasted zombies, but a fucker still latched onto my shoulder,
sinking his filthy teeth into my flesh.

With the guns I had reduced the mob in half.
My swords reduced it further until only a few were left, including
the asshole still attached to my shoulder. I had hoped he would
dislodge with all my movements, but he was more aggressive than I
guessed.

Flipping my blade around I struck behind me,
meeting the soft flesh and bone of his stomach before wrenching the
blade up and to the side. The weight of the zombie lifted as I cut
his legs from under him. The teeth, however, continued to gnaw.

Disgusted, I slammed my back against the
goo-covered lockers several times before he finally fell off. With
a triumphant cry I hacked the head off and marched into the
gym.

Had I not just fought with a zombie attached
to my shoulder, I probably would have given the whole marching in
without thinking thing a little more thought.

Instead, a blast of power had me dropping my
sword and falling to my knees the moment I cleared the doors.

“Fucking witches!” I screamed.

Yep, I just revealed the witches to the
general public. Oops.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” The
robe gave her away as the witch, parading in front of me. “The
legendary Executioner Olivia, trapped by the simplest of
spells.”

“I’m going to kill you,” I informed the
chestnut haired woman. She smiled, her brown eyes rich in swirling
colors.

“How do you propose to do that?”

“You know, I’m not actually really particular
on how it happens, just that it gets to be me.”

She laughed again. That’s just rude. She had
obviously heard of me.

“Your mage,” she continued, heavy disgust on
that word, “was no match for me, either.” She waved her hand over
the limp forms of Jerry and Mark.

“Yeah well, we all have our bad days.”

I took in the room. I know, a little fucking
late for that decision.

The humans were huddled to the side, staying
low to keep off the radar but watching with wary eyes. From my
kneeling position, I could see that the children had been shoved
against the far wall. The adults were trying their best to protect
their small forms from the unknown danger. Steel replaced my
features. Children are not to be harmed. Ever.

I swung my gaze to the other side of the gym,
seeing the woman in white, also on her knees. Her robe was stained,
the intricate silver thread designs pulled and ruined. Her hood was
pulled back, revealing sunken eyes and silver hair. Her chin jutted
out as her gaze remained riveted to the witch in front of me.
Silver manacles circled her small wrists, connected by a delicate
chain.

Her gaze fell equally hard on me. “You’ve
killed my creations.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.”

She nodded, still unhappy. I was willing to
bet freeing her would earn unneeded forgiveness.

“You pain in the ass witch, what the fuck are
you up to?”

“Calling our makers,” she answered with a
flourish. She held her hands out, head tilted back, insane smile on
her lips.

“Uh, who are you claiming are your
makers?”

“Why, the Fae, of course.” She withdrew her
arms, tucking her hands into the wide sleeves of her robe.

I groaned. “Why in the seven hells would you
think the Fae are your makers? Please don’t tell me you believe the
legend that witches are the result of a breeding experiment between
the Fae and humans?”

The witch narrowed her eyes at me, her jaw
clenching. “How dare you defile our heritage!”

“Great, now it’s an insane witch I have to
deal with.”

Jerry stirred from the pile of arms and legs
he and Mark had fallen in. I glued my eyes to the super bitch,
trying not to give him away.

“You’ve clearly never met the Fae,” I
taunted.

Her eyes riveted to me, a small smile played
over her lips. “You have?” Her voice had gone breathless. Quickly
she crossed the distance between us.

I swallowed my groan. “Yes.”

“How? When? Who did you meet? How did you
contact them? How?” she demanded, her eyes glassy with the mention
of the Fae.

“It’s a long story.”

She sat down in front of me, her black satin
robes swishing pristinely around her.

“Tell me everything,” she commanded.

“Release the humans.”

Intelligence sparked in her eyes as she
calculated my request. As she tapped her fingers against her knee,
I could practically see her make a decision. Straightening her
posture, she turned with an evil smile to the captive
necromancer.

“Darling, won’t you be so kind as to have her
and the mage taken to our home?”

The necromancer hissed, “I’m not your
darling.” Her jaw clenched. It appeared she was physically fighting
the command.

“Oh dear, it appears the obedience spell is
wearing off.” She stood in a fluid movement, brushing off her butt
before moving toward the necromancer with brutal intent.

She bent at the waist, whispering below my
hearing. Jerry groaned, reaching up to hold his head. With a snap
of her spine, the witch spoke four words that rendered him
unconscious again.

Great.

“You know what, let’s bring them all,” the
witch announced. I strained against the invisible bonds. She
confidently stalked in front of me. “Don’t worry Executioner, I’ll
leave the humans.”

With an index finger against my forehead, she
only had to utter one word to render me unconscious.

Fucking witches, I can’t say it enough.

Chapter 12

My
head was split in two, it had to be. There was no other explanation
of the misery that regaining consciousness was causing me. Judging
from the pain in my shoulder joints, I must have lost my arms along
the way as well.

With a groan, I forced my dry lids open.

“Oh wonderful, the star is awake.”

I groaned again. “Shut up, witch.”

A slap rang out against my cheek, forcing my
eyes closed again. My arms were bound above my head, my feet
dangling on the concrete. Not unlike the vampires I had
interrogated and killed.

I opened my eyes with new vigor, seeing the
necromancer in a dirty pile of blankets, resting against a stone
wall. From the high, small window, I was guessing we were
underground.

Fucking hell, I had about had it with
basement torture.

Turning my attention to the bitch whose
expiration date had come to my gleeful attention, my green eyes
hardened.

“Keep it up and you will beg for death.”

She slapped the other cheek and I got to see
Jerry and Mark tied to chairs.

“Yes, we can’t have them escaping from their
restraints like you did with Nari.”

“Remind me who that was again?” I knew the
answer. He was a crazed demigod taking vampires and shifters,
making them insane before playing with them. The deranged asshole
was hard to forget. Was there some bad guy club where fuckers
commiserated about my escapes from them?

She huffed before moving back behind the
sparkling tray filled with gleaming torture devices. I grunted,
lifting my head back up. If this bitch thought this was the first
time I’d had my flesh sliced and diced, she was in for a
surprise.