Anya Bast - Witch Fury

She had two syringes of the liquid copper since Bai was after her; but because the ingredients for the magickal spell that kept the copper in an injectable form were hard to come by, she was the only witch who carried the weapon.

If they were lucky, the Ketamine would make Stefan docile enough to bring back to Gribben. The trick, of course, would be getting it into him before he torched the place.

Theo and Jack wore copper swords sheathed to their back under long black coats that were a bit out of place in the warm club. They were weapons of last resort, since pulling copper blades on demons in the middle of a club where there were non-magickals was not the best scenario.

The team from the Coven walked to the back of the club and saw Stefan at a table in the back with a redheaded bimbo crawling all over him. Two Atrika stood nearby.

So, it was true, Stefan was living it up without a care. He felt that confident in his plans. Well, maybe it was time they broke up the party.

Sarafina and Jack approached Stefan first. Sarafina fisted a thread of power loosely in her hand, ready to throw if she needed it.

“Hey, Stefan,” Sarafina said, one hand on her hip. She was wearing a pair of tight leather pants that had made Theo slobber earlier that evening.

Stefan grinned at her. “Hello, Sarafina. Are you looking for Bai? I can call him for you, if you like.” He didn’t seem surprised at all to see them.

Theo stepped up close behind her and she placed a staying hand on his chest. Behind Stefan, the two daaeman also moved a bit closer to protect their charge.

“Enjoying a night on the town?” Sarafina answered.

He motioned to the two hulking Atrika behind him. “Why not? It’s not like you can do anything to me here in a public place. Not while I have such muscle to defend me. I have an image to uphold, after all.” He pulled the redhead close to him. She smiled and simpered up at Sarafina. “There are paparazzi everywhere. You can do nothing.” He wasn’t lying. The photographers lounged along the bar, one eye always on Stefan. Anywhere Stefan went, so did the photo hunters. To the non-magickal world, Stefan was a God among men. He sneezed, and his snot made first-page news.

Sarafina raised an eyebrow. “Think what you will. I’m glad you’re having fun, Stefan. That’s good. You should take advantage of the time you have left.” Stefan rolled his eyes. “Did you come here to talk trash? Shall we unzip our pants and compare our cocks? I guarantee mine is bigger.” The redhead giggled. Mindless twit.

“I think Isabelle would disagree,” Jack answered with a grin. Isabelle was the only one of them who had firsthand — literally — experience with the size of Stefan’s equipment.

Stefan’s face shuttered, and he took a long drink of his cocktail. “Do you have a reason for tracking me down? Didn’t you get enough of me in Kentucky?” Sarafina stalked over to Stefan, yanked his chair out, and leaned in close. Her anger had flared at the insolent look in his eyes and the practiced boredom in his voice. His bodyguards moved in, but Stefan waved them away with a cocky smile on his face.

“Let’s stop playing games, shall we?” Sarafina said. “Tell us what spell you’re trying to cast.” Stefan laughed. “How delusional. Do you think I’d actually tell you? Do you think you intimidate me?” Sarafina moved around Stefan’s chair so that the warlock faced her, then she slammed her foot between his legs. Leaning down close to his ear, she announced, “I haven’t even tried yet.” “Oh, ho! Sarafina!” Stefan purred with a saucy smile. “I did not realize you were so attracted to me. If I had known we could have had a quickie in the limo.” “Shut up.”

An explosion sent a wave of all four elements through the club, making the patrons scream and scatter. Things were going according to plan.

Mira had eased away once they’d found Stefan and joined Annie and a few Coven witches of the three other elements in another part of the club. Together, the witches were creating a diversion. All four elements used at once made a magickal signature a lot like Claire’s. Knowing how much the Atrika hated Claire, they figured it would draw off Stefan’s muscle. They’d been right. Stefan’s daaeman guards jumped in less than a fraction of a second to investigate, leaving Stefan alone and unguarded.

Not quite vulnerable, though. They had to act fast, before Stefan realized what was going on.

The second the magickal explosion occurred and the Atrika lit out, Sarafina had yanked the Ketamine syringe from her pocket and slammed it into Stefan’s chest. A moment after she’d shot the drug into him, she pulled fire from her seat and shot it through her foot, dangerously close to Stefan’s family jewels. He yelped and backed away, succeeding only in tipping his chair backward and landing on his ass.

Jack and Theo were on him in a moment, yanking him up and slamming him against the tabletop while the club went frantic around them.

Theo had cast a spell on the paparazzi’s cameras when the initial magickal explosion had gone off, preventing them from taking pictures. They’d all been too busy fleeing or dodging elemental magick to try, anyway.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Stefan,” said Sarafina, “I didn’t mean to make you relive bad times.” “You’re a fucking—” Stefan’s eyelids dropped. “A fucking— merde , you’ll never get away with this.” Jack leaned down into Stefan’s face with a feral grin. “Looks like we just did, warlock.”

“SLEEPING LIKE A BABY,” SAID MIRA WITH A HARD little smile, staring down at Stefan who remained passed out and sprawled on one of the uncomfortable prison beds in Gribben.

Theo curled his lip, looking down at the warlock.

Because of the ambush and diversion they’d created, magickal firefights had broken out all over the Black Cauldron. In the explosion of chaos, non-magickals and witches alike had run for cover.

Since the Atrika had been occupied searching for a non-existent Claire, Theo had just picked Stefan up, slung him over his shoulder, and walked him out of the club. In the commotion, it had been easy as pie.

No one was sure how all the magick was going to be explained away, but desperate times called for desperate measures. In any case, humans had a tendency to find answers for even the most bizarre of occurrences. They’d done it to explain Sarafina’s mother’s death, and they’d do it for this, too.

“He’ll be out for the night,” said Jack. “Mira and I will be here when he wakes to question him. We’ll have to hurry, since we don’t know how long it will take for his horde of Atrika to figure out what happened.” “We’ll wait with you,” Sarafina replied.

Jack shook his head. “There’s no sense in all of us being miserable. Come back in the morning and we’ll question him together.” “What if the Atrika show up before then and find you all alone?” Jack shook his head. “We won’t be. Thomas, Isabelle, Claire, and Adam are all due back momentarily. This will be the first place they come, don’t worry. Go get some rest. I know you’ve been on guard and not sleeping well. Claire and I know how that is. Get the hell out of Gribben for a while, and we’ll call you if we need you.” “Do we look that poorly rested?” Sarafina asked.

“Yes,” said Mira with a gentle smile. “Go sleep a little.” Theo didn’t have a problem with the idea of getting away from Gribben. The place was awful. With powerful spells etched into the very mortar, it was the one place on Earth that was completely magickless. No witch or warlock once having passed its threshold could access their power. It was akin to being stripped and raped. Theo lost his breath every time he came through the doors. Here he felt bare and raw, heavy and oddly plain. Melba toast. That’s how Thomas described it. Dry, flavorless, easily breakable.