~ ISSA

I felt Iran clawing his way slowly to the surface of my mind.

‘Witch blood,’ he whispered hungrily at the deep ends of my psyche.

He and I could feel the tension coming off the bartender. Iran and I could smell her fear as we both watched with dark humour as she thought of her options. She had none.

“You need to make up your mind,” Yulia said in a hardened tone.

I could feel her rage as she glared at the Bartender. The lady beside me sat rigidly as fear coursed through her. ...