glanced back out the window, looking down the now empty street toward the Cock’s Crow bar. Right now, nothing was happening on the street, but I could make out a form hovering near the entrance to the bar. It wasn’t over yet. “Take Trixie with you to the tunnels.”
“I’m staying,” she declared, snapping my eyes back to her. I bit my tongue, fighting the urge to tell Bronx to flip her over his shoulder and carry her out of the shop. I wanted her safe and nowhere near another warlock or witch if I could help it. I knew why someone had appeared down at Cock’s Crow and I didn’t think anyone else would be affected, but I didn’t want to take chances with her safety.
Turning back toward the people gathered in the lobby, I raised my voice. “Everyone follow Bronx! He’ll show you how to get safely out of the neighborhood. Don’t come back until you hear on the news that everything is clear.” I looked out the window again, staring down the street as I listened to the thunder of feet across the hardwood floor toward the back room. Their whispers were rough and tinged with fear, which only made me angrier. These monsters didn’t deserve to be feared. They were bullies, mocking everyone with their powers.
When the slam of the back door echoed through the silent shop, I pulled open the front door and stepped onto the first concrete step so that I could better see what was happening. I held open the door with my right hand while I leaned against the doorjamb. The night air was silent and thick, as if even Mother Nature was holding her breath, waiting for the evil to leave our midst. The only small relief I could find in this was that for once they weren’t looking for me.
“Why do you think they’re down at the Cock’s Crow?” Trixie asked from over my shoulder. I hadn’t heard her approach. I looked around to find her standing in the open doorway just behind me, staring down the street.
“They’re looking for Dolan,” I said, wishing she would at least go into the back room where no one could see her.
As if cued by some higher force, the warlock standing in the open doorway of the bar stepped aside in time for a large creature to come stumbling out into the middle of the street followed by a witch. Despite the dim light, I could see their arms extended toward the minotaur, keeping him under the point of their wands.
“Why?”
“He … He’s been selling fix out of the bar.”
“What?” she nearly shrieked.
Jerking around, I grabbed her arm and prepared to shove her back inside the parlor. “Keep your voice down. I really don’t want them coming here.”
Trixie winced, her eyes darting to the window to check that no one was approaching us. “Sorry.” I released her with a grunt and turned back to where I had been just moments before, my gaze locked on the three figures in the middle of the street.
“How do you know?”
“I make it my business to know what kind of neighborhood I’m in. It makes it easier to protect yourself.” Rather, it made it easier to judge whether a warlock or a witch might have a reason to stop in this part of town and happen across me. Per our agreement, only the council and my assigned guardian/parole officer, Gideon, were supposed to know my exact location. I knew Dolan’s illegal activities might draw the attention of the Ivory Towers, but I had been secretly hoping they would go after the supplier rather than the dealer.
“Dolan was always so nice. Why would he sell fix?”
“The money’s good.”
“It’s murder,” she growled.
“On both ends.”
Fix was a high-end drug, one of the few potent enough to affect the larger creatures such as trolls, ogres, and minotaurs. However, for humans, it was almost instantly lethal. Yet I had heard whispers that a few dealers had found a way to mix it with cocaine so that humans could use it. It wasn’t because the owner of the Cock’s Crow was dealing drugs in our neighborhood that Trixie was so upset. Hell, there wasn’t a bar within a thirty-mile radius that didn’t specialize in a little something.
No, Trixie was pissed over the source of fix. It was made exclusively from pixie livers. Thousands of pixies were trapped, ripped open, and harvested throughout the year simply for their organs. The pixie livers were dried and pounded into a fine powder, to be used later in a variety of ways.
Sadly, the warlock and the witch weren’t at Cock’s Crow because of the murder of countless pixies. They weren’t even there because scores more creatures died every year from the use of fix. They were there because the drug dealers were cutting into their supply of the potent organs. There were more than a dozen potions that benefited from the use of pixie livers, not to mention a few charms and countercurses. The Ivory Towers didn’t appreciate the competition.
A bloodcurdling scream ripped up the street as the minotaur buckled to his knees under a double blast of energy from the wands of the witch and the warlock. Dolan fell onto his back, writhing around on the asphalt in agony as the assault continued.
“He deserves what he gets,” Trixie muttered. The hand she’d laid on my shoulder had clenched when his screaming started. I wasn’t sure that I agreed with her. I thought that he deserved to be stopped, but the warlock and the witch had no business being the ones to mete out punishment. They were no better.
“You should go inside,” I bit out through clenched teeth. I was tired of this. Everyone along the street was cowering inside in fear, terrified that if they were seen they could suffer a similar fate simply because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was stepping down to the second step when Trixie’s hand tightened on my shoulder and she started to pull me back toward the shop.
“No, Gage!” she said in a harsh whisper. “Get back inside. Please, they might see you.”
I stopped on the second step, just above the sidewalk, still staring at the warlock and the witch laughing at the whimpering Dolan. There was a brief pause before Dolan’s pain-filled scream rang out again and then abruptly stopped. I flinched at the silence, knowing he was dead.
Trixie increased pressure on my shoulder, turning me slightly back toward the entrance of the shop while placing her other hand against my cheek. “Please, Gage, come inside where it’s safe. There’s nothing you could have done. They would have killed you too. Please, come inside. Please.”
It was the waver I heard in her final “please” that had me closing my eyes and releasing the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. I leaned my cheek into the palm of her hand for a couple of seconds, letting her soft touch push the last of the fiery anger out of my veins. She was right. There was nothing I could do, and if I had tried, I would be dead and she could very well be in danger as well.
“I’m coming in,” I murmured, opening my eyes. Trixie dropped her hand from my cheek, but didn’t release her hold on my shoulder until I stepped over the threshold of the shop. As I shut the front door behind me, I heard the back door open when Bronx returned. Pulling Trixie against my chest, I tightly hugged her. “They’ll be leaving soon. We’ll be safe.” My lips brushed against her temple as I spoke. Her scent wrapped around me, helping to ease the last of the tension still humming in my frame. I didn’t know whether I was trying to reassure her, or was simply clinging to something good and wonderful for a few moments in an effort to blot out the horror of our reality.
As I released her, Trixie looked up at me, a faint smile lifting her lips. “Thanks.” I watched her walk back into the tattooing room where she patted
