Chapter 9

Mr. Kennedy didn't slow down when they reached outside and continued to lead her down the street. He wouldn't look at her, or say anything as he guided her through the Friday night crowd.

His grip loosened when a group of rowdy men bumped into them. Grace was quick to use the advantage and pushed off his chest, causing her boss to stumble. She turned the other way, walking as fast as her sore feet would allow, but she didn't get far. Mr. Kennedy grabbed her hand and continued his hurried walk through the crowd. His grip was severe and he was too strong to fight. To save her hand, she stopped struggling, but that didn't mean she would give up.

"Mr. Kennedy, if you don't stop right now, I'll…I'll scream," she warned.

"Archer."

"What?" she asked, her head snapping towards him.

"We're not at work you can call me Archer," he said, his voice calm despite his hurried steps.

"I have a few things I'd like to call you right now," she mumbled.

He responded with a chuckle.

Did he just laugh? The fucking audacity .

"That's it," she screamed. She had had enough. She planted her feet and used all her strength to pull her arm back to stop them. "I'm not walking any further. You either explain what the hell it is you think you're doing, or you'll have to drag my body down the street if you insist on continuing, but I'm done."

Plus her feet were killing her. These shoes were going straight into the trash when she got home. She wouldn't even consider donating them. She couldn't put someone else through this torture.

"Third option, I could just carry you," he smirked.

"You wouldn't dare," she gasped.

He took a threatening step forward, showing he was prepared to do exactly that. Grace's eyes widened in shock and she threw her hands up in a defensive stance.

"Wait, just wait," she pleaded. "I'm really confused."

"I told you, I'm saving you from a shitty date," he stated.

"My date was going fine. More than fine. Don't tell me you're–"

"Do you have salt in your bag?" he interrupted calmly.

"Of course I do," she replied.

"You might want to get it out. Right now," he said, urgency building in his tone.

She did what he suggested, and took the salt out of her bag. Archer grabbed it from her hand and poured a tight salt circle around them. As he completed the circle, Dimitri broke through the crowd.

Dimitri pushed the remaining crowd out of his way and came stalking towards them. He looked ready for a fight, with his shoulders squared and his hands clenched at his sides. His top lip was curled into a snarl, revealing teeth. His eyes were wild with fury and promised violence.

And glowed.

"His eyes…" Grace started.

"D id you really not realize you were on a date with a warlock?" he asked. "The signs were all there."

"They were? I don't know how I missed them."

"He asked the waiter to remove the salt and pepper from your table. He wore that huge gaudy crystal ring."

"Plenty of men wear jewelry."

"Okay, but how did you miss when he was tracing patterns on your hand when he held it?"

"I thought he was just being affectionate and rubbing his thumb back and forth," she embarrassingly admitted. "I can't believe I didn't see any of this. Wait, so that's why you dragged me out of there?"

"You were so oblivious. He had you right where he wanted you. When you went to the washroom, with a sleight of hand, he poured something into your drink. Luckily I noticed," he explained. "Why? Why did you think I pulled you away?"

Dimitri had reached them, slamming into their protected circle, the salt providing an invisible barrier that he couldn't get through. He screamed in outrage as he continuously banged his fists and shoulders against it, trying to find a weak spot.

"Huh?" she answered, trying to avoid the question.

"You didn't think that I–"

"What? No," she cut him off.

"No offence, but we just met–" he started, talking over her.

"None taken, I'd never think–"

"I'm not saying you're not attractive–"

"You're my boss–"

"I'm flattered, but things would get complicated–"

"Zero feelings on my end–"

"...never end well–"

"I can't believe that you'd think that I'd think…besides, you hate me," Grace stated.

"W ait, I don't hate you," Archer said, breaking their back and forth.

She looked at him as confusion flickered across his face, certain her face showed the same. Then she noticed how close they were standing. Too close. She took a small step back, needing space to think.

Meanwhile, Dimitri's eyes had started to glow brighter. While trying to break down their barrier, he started to chant, causing his fists to glow the same yellow-orange as his eyes. His hair whipped around on a phantom breeze, and spit flew out of his mouth as his incantations grew louder and faster.

Archer watched her step back.

"Careful, you don't want to break the circle," he warned, his arm outstretched, ready to pull her back.

"Because I don't know how salt circles work," she snapped. "Do I need to remind you whose salt we used?"

"Says the woman who didn't realize she was on a date with a warlock," he said, matching her tone.

"Whatever. I was nervous, okay? If I wasn't, I'm sure I would've seen the signs," she replied.

"The dozens of signs," he murmured.

"Well sorry that no one's as smart and perfect as you, Archer . Don't expect a thank you."

"No, why would you thank me for saving you from getting drugged and dragged away to who knows where? Where you'd most likely become the sacrifice for some insane ritual, to probably bring about the end of days or pay off his rent or something."

"That's a typical Friday around here, stop being so dramatic. Besides, you could have let me know what was happening without the theatrics. Sent me a text, or stopped me before I got back to my table to say ‘Oh hey, I think your date is a warlock. Might want to watch your drink.'''

"I wasn't sure that I saw what I saw," he sheepishly admitted. "And I don't have your cell number. You didn't want mine, remember?"

"Excuse me? You said you saw him spike my drink," she said as she waved to Dimitri.

Dimitri had stopped trying to break through with brute force, focusing solely on his incantations. His entire body was now glowing, the phantom wind had grown stronger, rustling his clothes as well as tossing his hair about, and he was levitating a few inches off the ground.

"I mean, I thought I did. He was pretty crafty about it, but I wasn't one-hundred percent sure until I saw the look in his eyes when you were about to take a drink," he reluctantly confessed.

"Are you being serious right now? What if you were wrong?"

"Well, I wasn't, was I?" he said as he pointed to Dimitri.

The warlock's eyes had rolled back, only the whites showing through the now intense glow, as he continued his spell.

"Pure dumb luck. And I never said I didn't want your cell number. I said I didn't need it."

"You are the most stubborn–" he started.

"Says the most arrogant–"

They were cut off by an agonizing scream. Grace and Archer turned to find Dimitri forced against the invisible barrier, his face smashed against it like it was glass. His body was convulsing and he was foaming at the mouth.

"Got him," they heard a man's voice say. Beyond Dimitri, they saw two officers with their tasers pointed at the warlock.

"Idiots think they're all powerful, but never watch their backs," the female officer said with a laugh.

More officers arrived on scene. Sirens and flashing lights competed with the already loud and luminous downtown scene. Dimitri had fallen to the ground, his body still convulsing. With him down, the same female officer who was first to respond, stuck a needle in his neck, ending his life quickly and quietly.

"That'll do it," she said, stepping to the side so his body could be removed. "You two are safe now, but feel free to break the salt circle when you're ready. When you do, we will have a few questions. I'll be over there when you're ready."

Archer watched the officer walk away before he turned to Grace.

"Are you ready to break the circle?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Because that was intense…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

"I'm fine," she assured him, kicking her feet, breaking the salt line to prove it. "Let's get this over with. I'm so done with today."