A Witch's Fury by Kim Schubert Page A

grunted, my blaringly obvious topic change
noted.
    …
    “This is taking forever,” I complained again,
watching Jerry sitting cross-legged on the navy carpet of the hotel
room, with bowls, ingredients, and books spread around him.
    Perched on the bed, I rested my chin in my
hand, lying on my stomach.
    “It’s an art form,” he replied through
clenched teeth.
    I huffed, rolling to my back to stare at the
ceiling.
    As is a common theme in my life, I didn’t
wait well.
    Jerry grunted and I rolled back over to his
look of satisfaction.
    “Done.”
    “Where is she?”
    He sighed. “It didn’t exactly work out like
that.”
    “Why not?”
    “She shielded at the graveyard. I was able to
create a locator so that in a 100 yard radius, or so, you can track
her, like playing a game of hot and cold.”
    I pursed my lips at him. I wasn’t celebrating
this as a win.
    “If you knew anything about magic you would
be applauding my immense talent and skills right now.”
    I slow clapped, “Woohoo.”
    “Rude.”
    “If you want recognition, hang out with your
own kind.”
    He huffed, “No thank you. I like my head on
my shoulders, and those bitches are not fans of all this
awesomeness. And now, I’m going to shower.
    “Here,” he handed me the gold talisman. “Hot
and cold.”
    Right now it was cold, very cold. Where the
hell did an army of zombies wander off to?
    …
    Jerry exited the shower a few minutes later.
“How long can the necromancer keep the zombies above ground?” I
asked.
    “No idea. I’ve only encountered their kind
twice, and neither was a pleasant experience.”
    I grunted, “Same here. They are fucking
creepy.”
    “Agreed.”
    After a pause, he asked, “Did you notice the
footprints at the graveyard?”
    “Nope.”
    Jerry chewed his bottom lip. “Me either.”
    “Portal?”
    Jerry sat heavily. “The blood sacrifice would
make more sense. It wasn’t for the necromancer. She would have been
fully charged in the cemetery.”
    “Anyway to track a portal?”
    “No, and the talisman is worthless until they
come back.”
    I nodded, “They will.”
    “Unless they made it to the Fae.”
    I blew out a breath, stowing the gold in my
jeans pocket. “If the only thing that happened from the witches
reaching the Fae was their disappearance, I’d go to the fucking
wedding with bells on.”
    “Have you decided if you are going?”
    “Do I have a choice?”
    “No, I suppose you don’t.”
    We scoured the entire state in the week and a
half before I had to be back for the wedding, and even though I
spent a small fortune on gas, there was nothing to be found.

Chapter 9
    If I
was hoping for a happy ending with Blake, that he would leave
Angelina and run into my arms with a heartfelt apology and an
earnest declaration of his love, I was fucking deluding myself.
    “Olivia, are you ready?” Grams called out,
coming down the stairs into the living room.
    “Yeah,” I grumbled back.
    Tommy looked up at me as I gave him back the
controller to the racing game he was destroying me in. He might
have been a teenager, but by the sorrowful expression in his eyes
and the soft squeeze of my hand, he understood.
    Grams raked over my outfit, finding it
fitting. The short purple dress ended mid-thigh, embellished with
large rhinestones on the strapless top. It matched the purple
highlights in my hair, which was pulled into a soft bun behind my
left ear.
    “Are you bringing any weapons?”
    I sighed, following her to the garage. “No,
you’ve made it perfectly clear we are to be an open target.”
    “It’s a peaceful event.”
    “Nothing with the Supernatural community is
ever peaceful, but at least Darren and Logan will be there. They
grow claws.” I was still fucking jealous.
    “Mercer will be there running security.”
    “Really, humans doing security?”
    “The Centennial House is using Darren’s firm
for security.”
    I cast her a sidelong look as we got into my
SUV. I could at least have my toys