His skin was on fire and there was a rage in his head. He smelled witch blood. The dark, spicy scent filled his head with a clawing craving. He began to struggle, then realized he was chained and lying on the dark wood floor. He saw the stones of the massive fireplace from his right peripheral vision. It all came swimming back to him—he was in the living room of the Branch Bed and Breakfast. Carla had pulled him from his body. Shit! Now he was chained up. Rearing his head up off the floor, he looked down his body. He’d been stripped to his boxers and chains wrapped around him, anchoring his arms to his sides, his legs together. There were massive padlocks holding the chains. A muffled scream shattered his confusion. He smelled copper. Even better, he smelled the rich spice of warm, living, witch blood. His veins lit on fire, the craving taking hold. His nose tracked the scent and he found it to his left. Brigg Cusack and another rogue stood holding a witch.
