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Marianne’s short legs didn’t seem able to carry her at high speeds. Maybe she should have worked out instead of sticking her beak into spell books. She stood no chance of getting away, not from someone who’d spent months trying to keep up with a pack of werewolves.
A few metres from the rear gate, I caught up and body slammed her with my shoulder.
Marianne collided with the wall. On an expelled grunt, she slid to the ground, but pushed to her feet with a headshake and turned to me. Venom filled her cold eyes as a murmured chant flew from her lips. Fists curled, she began to circle me.
I tilted my head, as I twisted to follow her path, trying to make out her words. When it clicked, I burst out a laugh. “Oh, this is just classic.” My hands came to rest on my hips. “You’re cursing me?”
