21

The Witch was a cosy-style nightclub, decorated like an old pub with bars at various corners, stools, and barrels. On a small stage in the middle, two retro speakers blasted contemporary music. Most of the seats around the bar were empty, except for a few couples scattered around, and a group of older, inebriated men whose conversation outvoiced the music.

Mikhail and Viktor made themselves comfortable at the central bar. Employing his most charming smile, Viktor ordered a double whiskey and a glass of red wine. The witch bartender served them with a small nod.

Five minutes later, Constantine and Diana sauntered in and took a seat at the bar by the wall. The vampire’s blade was nowhere to be seen – something Mikhail was thankful for, since it drew less attention their way.

While he was still thinking of what to say to get the information they sought about Mada, Viktor beat him to it.

“Nice place.” The lycanthrope bobbed his head to the music. He leaned towards Mikhail, altering the pitch of his voice. “Would you enjoy a romantic walk through town after, darling ? Or do you intend to drink all night again?”

Mikhail snorted in response, throwing him a deadly stare.

“Yes, all right.” Viktor tasted his wine. “Act like the animal you are.”

The witch grinned behind the counter. “Family trouble, boys?” She spoke in fluent English, her breasts spilling out of her tank top while she filled a stein.

Viktor pursed his lips. “I wish! This beast here doesn’t want to get married!”

Mikhail confirmed Viktor’s words with another snort – it was becoming his ‘character’s’ go-to mode of communication. Where the hell had the lycanthrope come up with that ludicrous couple story?

“Sooner or later, every beast gets tamed,” the witch said with a kind smile. “It took two hundred years for me and my she-wolf. Now she’s wondering why she waited so long for a relationship.” She turned to Mikhail. “If he’s the love of your life, don’t let him go. His pretty face must surely draw a lot of admirers.”

Mikhail had no idea how to respond to the unsolicited advice, so he nodded with yet another snort and rested his elbows on the bar, pretending to be the savage he was supposed to be. At least now he understood why Viktor had chosen this particular approach.

The lycanthrope cooed. “I know he seems like an ass, but I swear he has the soul of a kitten.”

The witch laughed. One of the drunk guys approached, wobbling between the stools, and leaned against the bar. The alcohol fumes coming out of his mouth could knock down an immortal. “Vodka martini, darling. Make it a double,” he ordered, staring at her chest.

She served him with a smile and received a very generous tip.

“Dear friend, I cannot believe you serve humans. They’re so horrid!” Viktor said with a disgusted grimace.

Mikhail snorted in support of that statement.

“They’re not that bad, really.”

Throughout the next thirty minutes, the witch – whose name was Lilly – loosened her tongue. She told them about her partner, a wayward wolverine who she’d caught cheating on her once with not one, not two, but three vampires! Viktor took the cue to show indignation. Mikhail snorted. But in the end, the witch had forgiven her one and only, because true love conquers all . Then Viktor decided to tell the story about how he’d won Tom (Mikhail) over a game of cards from his crazy master, who had intended to sell him as a slave to a gang of African nymphs (it was the witch’s turn to express outrage).

The night went on with Lilly preparing drinks, Viktor and Mikhail drinking a few more rounds, and The Witch filling up.

Then Viktor said, “Lilly, darling, may I be honest with you?”

By that point, they were calling each other by their first names – or, in Mikhail and Viktor’s case, their fake first names.

“Of course, Ken.” The witch smiled.

“The truth is, Tom is dying.”

Her eyes grew wide. “What do you mean?”

“Those nymphs he was promised to? Well, they were very disappointed when they missed out on their reward, so they’ve been hunting him down ever since. Now they’ve found him.”

“Goodness gracious! Have they done something to you?” Lilly’s face twisted with sympathy for Mikhail.

He snorted in despair.

“Let’s just say he’s got nymph venom running through his veins as a result. But…” Viktor lowered his voice and leaned over the bar. “We heard there’s a witch here who can help us.”

Lilly’s eyes darted around before she whispered in the Southeast language, “Why don’t you try the Hospital? I hear they can cure almost anything.”

“You said it yourself.” Viktor shook his head. “ Almost anything…”

She hesitated, her eyes flickering between them. “Who sent you?”

Viktor’s shoulders sagged. “No one. A lycanthrope I met on the Champs-élysées a few years ago told me a story of a friend of his who was run over by a train and his wife had brought him here, to a very powerful witch who could do just about anything…”

“Hush!” Lilly interrupted as she plastered on a smile to greet another drunk tourist. After she served him his beer, she spoke in a hushed tone, “You can’t just go to her, without having been sent by somebody.”

“Then let’s say a friend sent us.”

“Doesn’t work that way. You have to prove it. Whoever sends you always gives away something precious that belongs to them. That’s the only way she knows you’ve been sent by someone she can trust.”

“Someone she can trust?”

“Only her closest daughters, aside from all of us here, of course, know where she is.” Lilly jumped back as if regretting her words. “I shouldn’t have told you that. Leave, boys. You’re very cute but I can’t help you. May the gods be with you.”

Mikhail figured this was as good a time as any to pull out the medallion from his jeans pocket. He placed it on the counter.

Lilly stared at it and her jaw dropped. Without uttering another word, she called over one of the waitresses, asking her to take over for a moment. Next, she disappeared through a black door behind the bar.

The new waitress had bright-red short hair and a choker with spikes around her neck. She stuck her tongue out at Mikhail, demonstrating her piercing. “You wanna go for a ride, grumpy pants?”

“He’s mine, princess.” Viktor growled, forcing the witch to step back.

By that point, Mikhail was ready to trade him in for information. Or, better yet, just donate him to the witches.

Lilly returned ten minutes later, her lips pursed in a straight line. Without a glance at them, she focused her attention on cleaning the counter. “She’s expecting you.”

“Is everything all right, Lilly?” Viktor asked.

Lilly didn’t answer him. Instead, she gestured towards the door. “I have a job to do, boys. Just go.”

Mikhail took a long look at her. Her rigid stance and clenched jaw sent a message to not ask further questions. A message that seemed to extend even to the unsuspecting mortal who snapped his fingers at the bar to attract her attention.

Leaving Lilly to her work, Mikhail spoke firmly. “Let’s go.”

They circled around the bar and slipped through the door Lilly had used. The moment they crossed the threshold, the warm, inviting atmosphere of The Witch vanished, replaced by a damp, cold space. They found themselves on a narrow, steep staircase that descended so far, the bottom was out of sight. When the door closed behind them, it plunged them into complete darkness.

“Not entirely welcoming…” Viktor said. “Didn’t you find her reaction strange?”

Mikhail started down the stairs, lowering his head to avoid hitting it against the low ceiling. “Of course. She realised her new best friend Ken was lying to her.”

Was the space narrowing or was Mikhail imagining it? He lifted his hands to the sides, but he couldn’t extend them all the way. The stone walls were ice-cold against his fingers.

“Smells like trouble, brother,” Viktor murmured behind him.

Mikhail wrinkled his nose. “Smells like mould and magic to me.”

He wanted to be done with this as soon as possible, and get back to the Hospital. Even if he did walk out empty-handed, at least he would have tried.

The staircase led them to a cramped tunnel, with a faint light glimmering at the far end. Warmer air crept over Mikhail’s skin while they moved forward, hidden in the shadows.

The tunnel opened into an underground chamber, dimly lit by floating candles. Dozens of witches were scattered across the stone floor, gazing trance-like at an altar – or throne – where a black-hooded creature sat. A dark robe concealed its body, making it impossible to determine its gender. At least until it spoke…with a woman’s voice.

“And now, my children, how about that joke I promised you earlier? So… A manticore and a lycanthrope walk into a witch bar.”

***

“Will they take long?” Diana spoke for the first time since they had sat down.

Constantine followed her line of sight to the witch behind the counter, whose movements had suddenly become too abrupt and precise, her face somehow rigid.

“As long as they need, Diana.” He ignored the red-headed waitress hovering around their table, leaned back in his chair and turned to the vampire. “Sexy suit, dove. A lot of the women I date wear those.”

“I’m not a dove. ” Diana bared her teeth, eyes glued to the door that Korovin and Volk had disappeared behind ten minutes ago.

Constantine smiled. “But they usually have a whip, too. Which reminds me… Please tell me you don’t intend on leaving your sword at the ice cream shop.”

She finally tore her attention from the door and took a sip of her cocktail. “I asked the waitress to keep it safe while I did an interview for a magazine nearby. Why?”

“I would like to see you wielding it,” he said, attracting her curious gaze. “I’m sure there’s a lot I can teach you. Especially if you’re naked.”

She furrowed her brow. “I can’t believe that’s what you’re thinking about right now.”

“And I wouldn’t believe it if you say the thought hadn’t crossed your mind as you were following me.”

Diana focused on the door again. “You’re just what I expected.”

“And what’s that, Diana?”

“A man who’s willing to exchange his body for information.” She made no effort to cover her disdain. “You don’t think I know how you made that lowlife witch in Istanbul tell you about the witch with the portals?”

He smirked. “Witches exchange information for cash only, dove.”

“Right. So, you weren’t the one who sold his body, she did.”

“She sold me information. I guarantee the sex was solely for mutual pleasure.”

Diana stared at him. “Well, I guess you’re not that good at it, then.”

“What do you mean?”

The corner of her lips curled. “I mean, you’re not good at delivering pleasure, since right after you left, the witch called over two others.”

That wiped the smirk off his face. “What?”

“Let’s just stay quiet while we wait, shall we?”

Constantine reached over and grabbed her by the wrist. “What two others?”

“I don’t know, Constantine. Some men. Clients.”

“Describe them.”

Diana glanced down at his fingers. “I don’t remember. I didn’t pay much attention to them.”

“Young, old, human, immortal?”

“I think they were immortal.”

Constantine took out his phone and dialled Mikhail, to no avail. He tried Viktor. No luck.

Then he turned to the vampire. “I need you to go get your sword.”

***

“The manticore is a conceited fool, who is about to learn that the rules of any game can change. And the lycanthrope… how shall I put this?” The dark figure deliberated, running her gloved hand over the spot where her chin should be. “He’s a cutie pie. Such a cute description, right?” The creature giggled. “A cutie pie that will soon break its leash.”

Mikhail counted thirty-five witches.

“They are clever, these two creatures. But they suck at numbers. Because two and two don’t always make four. Sometimes it’s much more. Sometimes it’s twenty-two!” The horrid laughter echoed once more. “Anyway, they walk into a witch bar. They say they come in peace but it’s not true and the witch knows it. How does she know it? She can smell the sense of superiority reeking from them. Can someone tell me what we call someone who believes their species is far better than the witch kind?”

“Racist?” One of the witches on the floor suggested.

The hood shook. “Racist? No. I don’t get the whole racism drama. After all, it is one of the most natural things on this Earth. There are species born to serve, and others born to be served.”

The crowd was made up of witches with diverse hair colours, who bobbed their heads in sync with the hood’s every word.

“When a species believes they are superior to witches, it is called stupidity. Above all else, Mada hates stupidity.”

Mikhail stepped out of the shadows and the dark figure clapped its hands.

“I was certain you wouldn’t wait until the end of the story.”

Viktor followed suit. “Good evening, ladies.” The heads turned in their direction. “And sir,” Viktor added when he spotted the only male creature in the crowd.

“I’m a woman, dickhead.”

“I apologise, madam. Miss?”

“We’re looking for Mada,” Mikhail said to the hooded figure.

A loud giggle pierced through the room. “You’ve found me.”

“May we talk in private?”

“You and I have absolutely nothing to talk about.”

Mikhail didn’t want to waste his time, so he moved straight to flattery. Few witches could resist a little ego boost. “We were told that the almighty Mada knows no bounds. Nothing in the world of magic is forbidden to her. Some even say that you are equal to the gods. We also heard you’re not afraid of making deals with the Higher Powers.”

“Where did you learn all that, creature?” Her haughty voice filled the room.

“From a witch in Istanbul who said you were the only one on the continent who could open a portal.”

A weird huffing noise came from under the hood. “The continent? Try the whole world.”

“Even better. We knew we’d come to the right place.”

“You have, indeed.” The hood moved up and down. “Unfortunately for you, however, I have no intention of working with you.”

“Would you care to explain why?” Viktor chimed in.

“If that is your last wish…” The witch adjusted herself on her throne. “I will not work with you because you do not need a portal. And you know why?” She laughed again. “Because you have no need to change anything in your past or your future, as you will not leave this room alive. In fact, you will never leave this place. As if you never even existed!” Her laugh echoed through the cave and, this time, the other witches joined in.

When the crowd settled down, Mikhail spoke in a calm voice. “Are you sure you do not want to help us?”

Mada snapped her fingers. “Yes, I am. But I have nothing against hearing you beg for your lives.”

“Actually, we’re here for another reason,” Viktor said.

“Besides dying, you mean?”

“We’d appreciate it if you told us who hired you to open the portal to the Hospital in Sofia. He, or she, didn’t pass through, just delivered a box,” Viktor said. “We also suspect that he was only a mediator and was doing it for somebody else. Someone whose identity we believe you would be able to reveal through your witch-client bondage?”

“I admit I like you, creature,” the figure told him. “Unlike your buddy. But one thing amazes me most. What makes you think I will ever give up a client?”

“Because your client is acting against the Hospital and the Council, and against all creatures connected to them in any way, which turns you and your witches into his accomplices and our enemies,” Mikhail said in Viktor’s stead, struggling to ignore the red haze blurring his vision.

“Fool!” Her voice boomed. “You think I rely on you and your petty little hospital for anything?! Why should I care if you see me as your enemy? I am one of the most powerful witches in the world for a reason. I can heal myself and my children on my own.”

Mikhail pressed his lips together. “Then tell us what you want in exchange for this information. I doubt there’s anything in this world I cannot offer you.”

The witch laughed again. “You have already given me what I want by coming here.”

Viktor stepped forward. “If that’s the case, we won’t trouble you further. We apologise for the disruption.”

As if driven by an unspoken command, the witches rose to their feet in unison.

Mada’s body shifted on the throne. “I said I will not work with you, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t expect you. From now on, you will be my prisoners, whose souls and blood I will feast upon until you have nothing left to give me.”

Mikhail raised his eyebrows. The unwillingness to cooperate had been expected, but flat-out hostility? Not in the current day and age. Given the changes around all species’ regenerative capabilities, cooperation tended to be the rule, rather than the exception.

He had struggled in sticky situations more than once and had learnt the hard way that aggression didn’t solve anything. At least not in a situation of thirty-five against two, and that was without counting the thing on the throne. And he could count, despite Mada’s assumptions.

“I’m sure we can come to an agreement,” he said.

“Tie them up!”

Before he could negotiate any further, three witches pounced on him simultaneously. One of them hit him so hard in the face, it was a miracle she didn’t break his nose. Warm blood trickled down his lip. He glanced at Viktor, who was still trying to charm a semi-circle of approaching witches with his words. Another witch started towards the lycanthrope from behind, holding a rope in her hands.

The hooded bitch wasn’t kidding, then . They had to fight if they wanted to leave this place . Battling women wasn’t his favourite pastime, but…

Someone attacked him from behind, much like the witch approaching Viktor, and tied a rope around his neck. He leaned forward, grabbing their hands and pulling their body towards him. He flung them over his shoulder and threw them on the ground. A subtle noise that only his supernatural hearing could detect told him the spine of the woman at his feet was broken.

“You will pay for this!” Someone else shouted to his left, as pain pierced his shoulder.

That someone jumped on Mikhail. It took him two hits to get rid of her, all while dodging a dagger to the gut from another witch. The attacks on both sides continued.

The beast inside him raged. He hadn’t been truly angry. Until now.

Mikhail bent down to avoid another hit from the witch to his right and grabbed her by her ankle, knocking her to the ground. Before she could escape, Mikhail snatched her other ankle and slid her across the floor, using her to knock down the armed witch to his left.

He wasn’t done. Oh, no. He was only getting started.

He took advantage of the momentum and lifted her body in the air, wielding it as a mace against the others. The witches around him all fell to the floor. The body grew limp in his hands and the screaming had ceased. He must have broken her neck at some point.

Viktor was thrown on the ground face-down by a couple of witches. One jumped on his back, forcing his hands together to tie them.

That righteous bastard! He had given up fighting so he could follow his stupid oath of abstinence. Dammit, Vik, now’s not the time for niceties.

The sight enraged Mikhail further. His body started growing, his muscles contracted, causing adrenaline to rush through him. A few more deep inhales…

His transformation stopped. For some unknown reason, he was still in human form. He tried again, to no avail.

He searched for Viktor, only to find him already tied up with the ropes. Mikhail wanted to help him, but his muscles refused to move, as if his legs were glued to the ground.

Suddenly, his entire body went numb. Someone knocked him over and he tumbled to the ground like a corpse. A group of witches descended on him, kicking and hitting, but he couldn’t fight back.

“How do you like it now, you wretch?” The words came a second before someone struck his groin. Another foot landed on his chest. A hit to the head nearly knocked him unconscious.

“STOP!” Mada’s voice pierced through the cave. “We have new guests to welcome.”

Paralysed and stuck on the ground, Mikhail barely managed to turn his eyes towards the entrance. A moment later, Constantine and Diana walked in.