The Witch's Tool (The Witch's Tool #1)

Waiting

THE WITCH

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

My fingers drummed across the chair, while my other rested under my chin.

I truly detested waiting.

And I had been waiting for almost sixteen years. Almost sixteen years since someone, either really stupid or astonishingly brave had managed to not only sneak in, find my child and take her, but also, they had escaped. Alive.

Being exhausted after bringing the child here, my powers had dwindled, body and mind both weak. So without a choice I had to rest but not before giving my Skin-shifters strict orders that they should kill anything that came within metres of my fortress.

Then I made my way to the Donjon, the child only being a room away and slept.

Never in this life or the next would I believe that someone would have broken in, taken the child who was just a room away from me and escaped with their life, in tact.

After waking up three days; fully reasted and more powerful than I had felt in a long time, I learned that the child was missing and there was no explanation given as to who and how.
The why, I had already been aware of. With that child everything that I had worked so hard to accomplish, could all disappear.

I would never let that happen.

Anger and Disappointment along with fear ravaged me. And for it I killed half of them, making an example to the other half what would befall them if they didn't find her.

. . . It's almost been sixteen years and still they had been unsuccessful in locating her. Whatever spell was used to cloak my her was beyond powerful and I had not found the person responsible for that either. Go figure.
So every day, since she was taken I have killed a skin-shifter. But it has not only been them to feel my wrath.

Everyone has. From the Werewolves , Shapeshifters, Vampires and "The Order" who has been in chaos ever since.

My lips quirked up at that; The Order - in chaos. It added some joy to my dampened mood. Thoughts involving Chaos always made me a little happier.

The doors burst in and three Skin-shifters entered, all in their true form. It would have been unwise to appear otherwise; an insult.
They were both carrying a bloodied and brushed naked man forth, from the stench of him I could detect that he was a werewolf.

"My queen," One of them said softly. "We've brought you another."

Looking at the half-dead werewolf, I could do nothing to hide the boredom that was on my face.

Almost all the time, they brought something half-dead. So never was there anything amusing or surprising that happened. They hardly looked me in the eye.

"Shall we kill him?" They both asked in unison. But before I could answer the Werewolf head rose and he spoke. Actually spoke, to me.

"Weak." he actually said and rather weakly. The irony!

"That is what you are." he continued, everytime he spoke his body shook. Just the effort was killing him. "Your insects. . . Have to do everything."

He looked up at me, in the eyes and spat blood at my feet.

Finally, something amusing. "On second thought, do not kill him."

His eyes narrowed at me as his chest rose and fell. I then got up; my dark dress as still as my heart, and strolled down to him.

"I do not know if it is because your incredible brave, or stupid. But either way, I find you amusing." I stroked his face but unlike others, he did not flinch. I smiled.