AN: I made some slight changes to Grace's accent. I just toned it down a bit. It was my first crack at an Irish accent. :P
Vincent's Desperation
Belfast, Ireland
"Vincent Shaw, back so soon?" The witch raised a brow, tapping a red nail against the counter of roughened wood. Over her shoulder hovered her familiar, a strange blueish creature that reminded him of a fat little gremlin with wings.
Grace the Enchanted was one of the oldest witches he knew. Although she appeared in her twenties, with bright blue hair and even brighter blue eyes, she was older than himself by several centuries. When he'd been a boy Grace used to visit his pack often, playing with the pups and showing off her magic. Now she spent her days holed up in her old magic shop, selling trinkets to human tourists. Of course, the humans were completely unaware that hidden in the back was another shop possessing real items of power, ones meant only for the supernatural.
Vincent crinkled his nose, the numerous scents of the old shop assaulting his senses. The tiny room was cluttered with bookshelves bearing potions, scrolls, and various trinkets. From the ceilings wooden beams hung an assortment of herbs, their pungent smells swirling in the candle smoke.
Grace inspected him with keen eyes. "Let me guess, you broke another one?"
Stifling a cough he took out a piece of paper and slid it towards her. "Aye."
Picking up the list she looked it over, her shapely brows arching. "Really, Vincent?"
"I need all these things as quickly as possible."
"That's the third amulet this year. These are not easy tae make you know?" she scolded, her Irish accent thickening with frustration. "You turned while wearing it again didn't you? I told you they weren't strong enough for that."
Sighing, he crossed his arms. "I didn't really have a choice at the time. Can you make me one or not?"
She scoffed, flipping a long lock of blue hair over her shoulder. "Lucky for you, I just made a new one. It's a bit of an experiment, so it might be a wee bit dodgy."
"Dodgy?"
Grace nodded, a mischievous grin spreading over her face. He resisted the urge to shake his head, witches. "It's special made, just for your kind. You can turn anna it won't break."
"You're kidding." Having such a trinket would be invaluable.
"O'course it's just a prototype...so," she shrugged "it could just as easily blow up in your face."
"Get it for me," he ordered. Grace, as her title suggested, was the best at enchanted items. He was confident the amulet would work. And if he could turn while wearing it he just gained a huge advantage. "I don't care about the price. What about the rest?"
Grace glanced over the list again, tossing him another keen look. "Just what are you planning, hunter?"
"That's none of your concern."
"I've known you since you were a pup, donna forget," she chided. "What you're wanting, it's no' good."
Vincent wiped at a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. His body felt feverish, his bones ached. His mind was clouded, often losing focus. Time was running out and he didn't have the luxury to waste any more of it quelling the old witch's fears. "I need these things, all of them. This is important."
She looked him over, not doubt taking in his roughened appearance and flushed skin. His eyes were bloodshot, his face damp with sweat. "You did it," she breathed. "You took up with the Legion."
"Not now, Grace," he growled. His inner wolf snarled at him, having a soft spot for the witch.
"You know there is no breaking a pact with Gabriel. What were you thinking?"
"I have my reasons," he grunted.
"Aye, always with your endgame. If you were smart you would become a true alpha and find your mate."
Slamming his fist on the counter he barked, "Enough!"
Grace's familiar hissed, its tail lighting on fire. She petted it soothingly. "Easy, love. It's just his way."
"I was exiled Grace, a rogue. Any chance of a pack are gone, you know this."
"Times have changed. Many seek leadership. Things are brewing in the outer realms. I'm talking scary shit."
"I'm aware," he said. "Legion now, remember?" He'd seen things in Gabriel's keep that still made his skin crawl.
"Aye, foolish wolf." She shook her head. "The antidote I canna help you with. Enchanted items and poisons sure, but this, you need an expert alchemist."
"And, do you know of one?" he asked tightly, fighting for patience.
"I do, but she is hard tae find. Bit of a recluse."
Find the alchemist, his inner wolf pleaded. Its voice had grown weak over the days. His instincts begged him to find a way out of his pact with Gabriel.
"If I were you, I'd seek her out," Grace suggested. "Get yer'self back up to snuff. She's good, really good."
Vincent hesitated, pondering the best course of action. He never should have made that damn pact. Sighing, he scratched at the stubble over his chin. What was done was done. There was no turning back now. If he could just accomplish this task and obtain the she-elf even the Mad One would no longer pose a threat.
No, find the other!
Once more he pushed his wolf aside. The price was just too high. His intel had informed him that Sebastian had increased the wards around his castle. Obviously, the Demon King expected an impending attack. Did the demon realize just what the halfling was? He must, why else would he be so protective of her? If Vincent wasted time seeking out the alchemist he could lose Victoria forever. The Cursed King would claim her for himself, if Gabriel didn't acquire her first.
The risks were just too high.
"I'll just have to deal with it," he grated. And pray he got Victoria before it was too late. "What about the rest?"
"I can get what you need, but it will take a bit of time. And you didn't get it from me." She hesitated, tapping her finger on one of the items on the list before stating carefully, "This will cause a slow death to the afflicted, hunter. And a painful one. Are you sure? I know you've done things, but this?"
Clenching his jaw he nodded. He had no choice. His wolf had grown too weak; he doubted he could even fully turn now. He had no choice but to take desperate measures to ensure victory.
It was either him or the demon.
AN: This chapter becomes more clear later on. I'm building the mystery.