” — Stay out of this! “
The cry came from them both, turning to face the witch with almost choreographed timing. She’d burst through the door with a tingling wind about her, something furious and noble but still somewhat hollow ringing against his ears. Their bubbled nudged, little swipes of power testing into the others’ range, and the newer sensation left him looking perplexed.
Bright color grabbed his attention, and he honed in on the jar. Saffron. Had to be. If it wasn’t, then it’s not a big deal, but if it was…
Danny’s attention shifted from Leo to the jar and back again, when he felt a surge flowing from within, reaching out through his arms, towards the glass that held the substance in question. He’d meant to seal it in stone, keep her from reaching into it or shattering it against the floor — with the way they circulated the air, Leo would inhale a massive dose within seconds.
”You trying to fucking kill someone?“ He shouted, turning almost completely from the warlock to face the newcomer. "This is between us. I don’t care whatever fucking myth you’re planning to quote.”
Instant judgement based on a single factor. Universal comedy at its prime. Danny shot a knowing glare at the mentor, hoping he’d pick up on the frustrating almost-humor of the situation.
The young man’s outcry surprised her more than Leo’s did, and she surveyed the glance the two men shared, as if she was the one in the wrong.
Odd.
Judging by the thermodynamic entropy lapping about him, he must be a shaman. Rare in North America, though she should not have been surprised that he was in New Orleans. “Shamans as young as you shouldn’t be fighting,” she said simply, ignoring his outbursts, “especially not the likes of him.” She moved her hand just in time to see his reach out against the barrier he had formed. With her other hand, she grabbed hold of his wrist, surging an icy hot dose of a special chemical current through his arm to his brain. A warning, nothing more. A nudge into his soul so that he could feel what she was capable of.
Kaja looked over at Leo, who was glaring at her with eyes ablaze. “Step back from this, Warlock. Don’t make this hard on either of us. Whatever it is, you can work it out civilly. Then the boy is going to leave.”
”You’ve no idea who this boy is, Kaja.”
”What’ve you done to him, hm? Coming to your defense like that?” Surely if the two were butting heads, and yet the young one was still defensive…surely that meant the warlock had him under an enchantment.
Leo frankly had enough. Witches and sitting their stiff arses on a pedestal as if they were so much better than he. “Listen here, Witch,” he growled, lunging at her before he even knew what he was doing. Rage boiled him to a point of no return, where his heart hammered and blood seared with not just heat but dark roiling magic that would reek to anyone whose magic aligned with that of the guardians. It was like she pulled back the curtain that Rima had tried so hard to sew up and patch. His hand was pressed to the witch’s neck. “You know naught of me. Think ye some pastries and a cup of tea will reveal all there is to know? How shallow do ye think I am?” His energy grazed her own like a lion’s clawed paw. His teeth might as well have been bared. “Afraid of warlocks, Kaja? Maybe y’should—” his breath caught and he choked on his words. The energy he had been harboring was pouring out of him, replaced by the familiar burn of saffron.
What he hadn’t seen was her veins pumping red from the hand which gripped the closed jar of saffron, crawling up her sleeved arm, then slowly pumped down to the other limb, held at her side. Once a familiar warmth hit her fingers, she had gripped his wrist, clenching tight. She watched as Leo’s eyes flew open. “Let go of me. Now.” The hand in her grip trembled, and the other fell instantly away.
