“Exactly. But the second something stirs, I’ll know exactly where to find them. When other portals open and magical creatures come out, it fucks with the energy here. A lot of that energy isn’t good. Our worlds would collide, and the balance gets thrown off. That’s why we track them down and keep our realm thriving. Fuck everyone else,” he responded.
“And that’s how you’re able to track down the elves and fairies to kill them when they come to the city?”
“Yes, but only unless you’re a female. Hex13 doesn’t harm women unless they fight with the enemy or join an army. Once you cross that line, you’re as good as dead,” he replied.
“Am I part of your army?”
War looked down at me with his glowing eyes, the gears spinning wildly on his neck. “I’ll allow you to hunt with me, but during a full-on battle, I won’t let you join,” he replied.
“So, you mean to me all of this time, we thought we wouldn’t be tracked down by Hex13 unless our eyes were covered? I thought nobody could tell what we were unless you saw it in our eyes.”
“That’s true for new warlocks. Highly skilled members of Hex13 can track you down from miles away. But your wand is special. If you were using it to leave Charmden, it wouldn’t show up here. Your wand was made by a wizard—this system doesn’t recognize its own magic as a threat,” he said.
A portal opened behind us, and through it I spotted stairs leading down. “Go ahead,” he said.
I stepped through the portal and started down the stairs, the loose dress dragging at my legs, threatening to trip me with every step. “What kind of shoes are these?” I grumbled.
“Slippers,” War answered from behind, his voice echoing off the stone walls.
“This is shameful. I thought we were past the humiliation rituals.”
“All you do is complain and fuck up decent moments. I can always throw you in the dungeon with your lil’ elf boy,” he shot back.
“Go ahead, so he can help me take this hideous dress off,” I retorted, rolling my eyes.
Just then, I lost my footing, teetering on the edge of a fall. War’s chain snapped out, wrapping around my waist, holding me in place. He dragged me down the stairs, the chain was squeezing me tight.
“Don’t take my kindness for weakness. I’m still on that bullshit,” War threatened, his chain releasing me with a snap.
We entered a grand hallway lined with paintings of a forest so lifelike the trees seemed to sway in a phantom breeze. Grim and Crash Out lounged at a small table by the window, tearing into whole roasted chickens. The rich, spicy aroma made my stomach twist with hunger.
“Joker and Harley Quinn,” Grim called out, his mouth stuffed.
“You stay on joke time,” War replied.
“Yo, Eboenia, appreciate you for saving me back in the forest. That big ass troll was about to take a young nigga out—dude was ready to stomp me into the ground. But is your homegirl single? The one with the coily brown hair?” Crash Out asked, grinning.
“What is up with y’all wanting fairy pussy?” Grim said, shaking his head.
“It don’t seem like it’s a bad thing. They’re beautiful, and they smell like fruit and flowers. What you trippin’ for anyway? Youwere just talking about the bald head joint a minute ago,” Crash Out teased.
“Stay in a kid’s place!” Grim barked, giving him a hard look.
I couldn’t fight my hunger any longer. I snatched up a smaller cooked bird from a platter, the Cajun spices hitting my nostrils and making my mouth water. “What is this?” I asked, already taking a bite.
“That’s a Cornish hen,” War replied, tossing a napkin my way.
Grease dripped down my chin as I savored the flavors. “Here you go, have some of these collard greens,” Crash Out said, passing me his bowl.
I dropped the hen into the bowl, then scooped it up, greens dripping. “Damn, you don’t feed it?” Grim asked War.
“Fuck off!” I shot back, and Grim waved me off, grinning.
“You’re gonna let her talk to your brother like that?” Grim asked War.
“Stop bitching,” War replied, barely glancing his way.
“Where are Jinx and Blair?” I asked, chewing.
