Lethal Blow: (Succubus Hitwoman Book 2) by Eliza Hendrix (love books to read TXT) 📕

matching red pigtails say something aloud and pour a jarful of green slime into a cauldron. They turn around and block their ears like they’re anticipating an explosion. When nothing happens, they grin from ear to ear and high-five each other.

Then, a short male witch brushes past me.

“Um, excuse me,” I try.

He’s either deaf, or he doesn’t care. He doesn’t even bother turning around to look at me, and instead, smacks his forehead as if trying to remember something from his childhood.

“Okay,” I mutter.

When another witch walks by me, I extend my hand to touch her shoulder. But she halts before I make contact, bites her bottom lip, and spins around so fast I don’t even have time to say anything.

What are they all working on? It’s like they’re trying to solve the mystery of life. No one even realizes I’m standing here. Can they not see me?

“Hello?” I say, my voice growing louder.

Nothing.

Seriously? Am I invisible? It wouldn’t be the first time that happened.

“Are you all blind?” I shout.

At once, everyone stops what they’re doing, and dozens of eyes roll my way.

Okay, they can see me.

“Did you hear that?” asks one of the red-pigtailed witches.

She’s staring through me and at the door at the front of the warehouse.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Is this what Peter was talking about when he said it wasn’t technically teleportation? Is that because I’m not actually here?

“Hello?” I shout.

The way they keep turning their heads, it’s obvious they can hear something.

“Probably another Searcher,” one woman whispers.

A Searcher? What the hell’s that supposed to mean? Breathing in a long, calculated breath, I close my eyes. I’m here for a reason, and all I have to do now is figure out what it is. Peter said something about being worthy. If I mouth off and throw shit, I don’t think I’ll pass whatever this trial is.

“Miss Rayne?” comes a deep voice from behind me.

I twirl around so fast my stolen leather jacket slaps itself.

The man standing before me isn’t the type of person I’d expect to see in a place like this. He smiles at me, or at least, he tries to and reveals two pointed fangs at the corners of his lips. His face is white as snow, the same as his perfectly combed hair. The two combined make his entire head look like a glow-in-the-dark ball in this dim space.

“You can see me?” I say.

Still smiling, he offers a slow nod like he’s amused. I don’t see what’s funny about any of this.

“Where am I?” I ask.

“I believe you were already given instructions on how to proceed.”

The words come out with an ancient Old English accent, and for a second, it almost makes me forget how much I fucking hate it when people don’t answer my questions. It isn’t rocket science. Someone asks a question and you answer it. And what came out of his mouth has nothing to do with my question.

“Where am I?” I repeat, my tone hardening.

I’m not sure if I’m pissed off because he didn’t answer my question, or because I wasn’t given any instructions by Peter.

“That, Miss Rayne, is up to you.”

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

It sucks knowing you have anger issues and not being able to control them. I’m well aware that I’m boiling on the inside—somewhat unnecessarily—but I can’t help it. I’m sobering up, I don’t know what the fuck is going on, and apparently, the fate of San Halos and possibly the world lies with me.

Well, that’s how Veerka made it sound, anyway. I might be blowing it up a bit in my head because I like to imagine myself as her knight in shining armor. I won’t even bother turning that statement into a female version because I enjoy gender-bending.

So instead of exploding, I picture myself going down on Veerka and that seems to work.

That’s the ultimate goal, isn’t it? Getting to keep her as mine.

I haven’t a clue who this vampire is, why he can see me, or how he knows my name, but it’s obvious he has something to do with this trial I’ve been forced into.

“What do you want from me?” I ask.

“This is not about what I want, Miss Rayne. I believe you are searching for something.”

All right, so this guy isn’t a total quack. My eyes narrow on him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. I’m almost tempted to use my Lure to get him to answer me, but oddly, it feels inappropriate. It’s like he’s some ancient guru, thousands of years old, and the idea of bringing any form of sexual energy near him would be disrespectful.

I’ve never felt that way before. I don’t often give a shit how my Lure will affect the other person, but for some reason, I can’t bring myself to do it on this vampire.

“I am looking for something—someone,” I correct. “The Black Widow.”

Slowly, he removes his hand from his belly and extends it out as if preparing to blow a handful of magic dust from his palm. Long wavy nails point outward—nails you’d think haven’t been cut in over a century.

“If your heart is true, you will find her,” he says.

Don’t roll your eyes… Don’t roll your eyes…

I haven’t even started the trial and I feel like I’m failing. My heart is anything but true. Despite this, I take a step in the general direction of where he’s pointing. As I move forward, the entire warehouse flickers, almost as if I’m standing inside a television and the video footage is losing its signal.

The large gathering of witches moving about like elves in Santa’s Village becomes translucent, and as the crowd disappears, a long dirt trail emerges right in the middle of the warehouse.

With the