Monday, March 16, 2015

Opening Gambit

Nate wrenched the door open, lunatic glint in his eye.

I held him back. “I should drive.”

“No dice.”

“Then let me clean your wound, so it doesn’t blind you.”

I knew that would do the trick. He flinched at the idea of me handling his blood. I wouldn’t keep it without asking, but he’d never trust me not to. That might have stung, once, but blood is power, especially in the hands of a witch. He’d seen my creations.

He packed a snowball, wrapped it in an old shirt – mine, of course – and climbed into the back seat, grumbling.


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