Page 82 of Wicked Curses
That wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t just him; most immortals in this room couldn’t stay still for twenty-four hours, and that wasifthe scarogs killed someone in that time.
Judging by the number of immortals who flooded the pub at the tolling of the bells, he’d guess they’d packed all the original buildings, and most had gotten to safety. If that was the case, how did the scarogs finally kill someone?
He studied everyone crammed into the pub as he contemplated this. Did they eventually sacrifice someone to make the beetles leave, or were there a few who hadn’t made it to safety and would get caught?
And if they sacrificed someone, what did that mean for Sahira? Some of the witches and warlocks had made it here, and he was sure some made it into the library too. She’d be the first one they sacrificed.
Orin’s nostrils flared, and his chest constricted at the possibility. With the spike of irritation came a rolling wave of hunger. But then, everything made him ravenous lately.
He’d pushed himself to a breaking point. It had been a stupid thing to do, especially with The Reaping on the horizon, but he’d been so convinced she’d cave, and so determined to win, that he’d kept going until hunger had become his constant companion.
He was starting to see its effects in the shadows under his eyes and the gauntness of his cheeks. Clothes that used to fit him had to be belted into place.
And now, they were trapped in here. Orin scanned the crowd packed into the pub as he weighed his options. If they were in here too long, the mermaid and a couple of the lycans could be fun to revisit.
He hated that he would lose this part of his game, but it might have to happen. Until then, he would have to wait this out.
Gradually, the pub started coming back to life. No one spoke, but some of the occupants shuffled around as they found seats or consumed what remained of their drinks.
There weren’t enough tables and chairs, so some settled against the wall. When a dwarf went to sit on the empty stool he usually occupied, Orin’s dark look sent him slinking away. Whispers started through the crowd, but everyone remained mostly mute.
Belda looked at him and slid her finger across her throat. When he started working here, she told him that once The Reaping arrived, the drinks would end until it did.
She didn’t want a bunch of drunk immortals crammed into her pub, and he didn’t blame her. The last thing they needed was a fight breaking out, but they could always sacrifice the fighters and end The Reaping.
That sounded promising to him.
Belda had shown him the room of weapons in the basement, but the lycan hadn’t made a move for them. He suspected she would wait until it was necessary before breaking those out.
Orin stepped out from behind the bar and settled onto the empty stool at the end. He stared at the shutters as he rested an elbow on the bar and tried to ignore the hunger pangs doing a number on his stomach.
Sahira must be experiencing the same thing, which meant she’d also probably weakened herself and was now trapped with immortals who would prefer to see her dead. He shouldn’t give a shit—shewas the one who’d done this to both of them—but he did care.
As much as she annoyed him, he didn’t want anything bad to happen to the witch. Thankfully, he was shallow enough not to get too introspective aboutwhy.
He tapped his fingers on the bar as the feet scampered faster across the ceiling. As more of those things descended on the town, their wings created a buzz that set his teeth on edge. It had only been five minutes, and he already hated these beetles.
Their many legs scratching against the roof reminded him of skeletal fingers clawing at the insides of a coffin. Instead of trying to break free, these things were trying to enter the place they were determined to turn intohiscoffin.
That wasnevergoing to happen.
CHAPTERFIFTY-NINE
The occupantsof the library had stopped resembling statues and come back to life as they carefully moved around. Gromuck left the main room and returned a few minutes later with some spears.
She handed one to Belda’s beta, Boris, sitting in the corner, still reading through a book on the geography of the different realms. The lycan barely looked up before flipping the page.
Apparently, this wasn’t his first Reaping, as he remained cool while others were crowding around Gromuck for weapons. She unceremoniously shoved five of them aside with one swipe of her arm.
They staggered back but didn’t approach the orc again. Gromuck tossed a second spear to Elsa before looking up at Sahira and tapping another against the ground. She guessed that was her cue to get down and back to work.
Setting the books next to the ladder—she’d take care of them later—Sahira descended to claim the weapon. She didn’t know how many Gromuck had, and given the number of immortals now filling the library, she’d take any weapon she could get.
Her dagger was strapped to her side like it was every day, but she’d never say no to more protection. Gromuck released the spear to her before thudding out of the room.
Two pixies flitted into the library. One left a silver trail behind her, while yellow followed the other. They settled onto a shelf and slid back until they nearly blended in with the books.
Hunger still thrummed through Sahira’s veins, but she pushed it aside. She had to be at her absolute best to get through this, and she was determined to do that.
