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I didn’t like how this was turning out; my brothers were slowly falling to this witch’s charms, unconscious or not. She was a powerful witch, re-animated and without a care for the social contracts of our supernatural society. I wasn’t on the council, but I wasn’t used to being treated like that.

You like it, you dirty dog.

I growled at myself.

And now a Shadow Demon was prowling around. None of it was coincidental. And my brothers would be worthless here, all beginning to trail after her like lost puppies.

Like you used to with–

No. Fuck her.

Besides, there was only one person I trusted to get a more accurate picture.

But before I could disappear into the ley lines of the Earth, a man came out of the coffee shop’s interior, with an expression as ugly as his face.

I snorted.

Fucking werewolves.

Yet something niggled at the back of my mind.

And then he confirmed it by following Juniper across the road.

Oh no, that wouldn’t do at all.

Vampyric speed had me across the road, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, and shoving him up against a back alley before he could so much as piss himself in fear.

“What the fuck? Who are you?”

The stench of fear coming from him was intense, making an unpleasant cologne with the wet-dog smell that already permeated my nose.

“Why are you following that woman?” I demanded, cutting straight to it.

His eyes widened even further.

“Does she have a whole fucking supernatural swat team now?” He squawked, his voice an octave higher than it should be.

My eyes narrowed, and I grinned.

“So you’ve met my brothers.”

His face paled even further.

“Please, just let me go. I’m sorry.”

My grip on his neck loosened, but only minutely.

“If I catch you lurking around her again, I’ll ensure you’re buried so deep your soul won’t even reach the Underworld.”

His eyes bugged out. “You can’t–”

I let my magick swirl around us, dark and old and full of vengeance.

“Get the fuck away from me,” I hissed.

The wolf dropped to the ground, practically on all fours in his effort to get away.

As he scuttled off, a niggling sense started at the back of my mind, blooming into the seedlings of paranoia.