Magically Bound: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Hunted Witch Agency Book 1) Page 2

  It was technically true, although I couldn’t prove it now because Isaac was dead, but maybe she would let me show her my skills. Anyone who saw me in action tended to…

  “So, why would you think we would take on someone who has no experience? The Hunted Witch Agency has a clean reputation.”

  “Hunted Witch…?” Not only had she interrupted me again, she had got her own agency name wrong.

  A small smile lit her lips. “Yes, we don’t advertise our full name when we’re recruiting. As you can imagine, it puts people’s backs up…”

  “Witches, you mean?”

  So, the twists were coming thick and fast. They hunted witches? But… “You’re a witch. Why are you hunting your own kind?”

  Her face cleared of any expression as she leant forward on the desk and looked at me. Her eyes were light brown, a blank glaze hiding her soul from anyone. She was guarded, rightly so. In her line of work, she probably had to watch her back every second of the day. Did I want that responsibility too?

  “I’ve done some research on you,” she said, choosing to ignore my question. Bitch. “And, you’re not only a witch…”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m half warlock, too.”

  Her perfectly plucked eyebrows rose, her lips pressing together. “You remind me of someone,” she said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her hands over her waist.

  Keeping my mouth shut, I realised that I had probably overstepped the mark. I was in a job interview, I should be civil, not sarcastic.

  “I hope it’s someone amazing.” I laughed, stopping abruptly when she tilted her head to the side. Not good, Devon, act like an adult!

  “Actually,” she said as a smile came to her face. “You remind me of me…so, yes, it is someone amazing.”

  A genuine smile came to my lips as my shoulders relaxed. Our gaze met and an understanding passed between us. I’d seen things not meant for young eyes, maybe she’d had the same experience.

  “That snarky attitude is good for covering how you really feel in this business, but I’ve learnt the hard way that we have to take care of ourselves. I’m not sure you’d be able to.”

  Licking my lips before I spoke, I thought about my reply. “Teach me,” I blurted, suddenly desperate to connect with someone who might just understand me.

  Leaning her elbows on the desk, Justina studied me. Her arms were toned, the pale skin on her face smooth and unmarked. She must have been a couple of years older than me, so in her late twenties. What had she seen in the world so far?

  “Let’s talk about your heritage,” she said, instead of acknowledging my request.

  Letting her change the subject, I sat forward on the edge of my seat. My ripped jeans were digging into my stomach, making me feel a little nauseous. Although, was that just an excuse? Every time someone wanted to know me, the urge to vomit often surged.

  “What do you want to know?” I would’ve usually said something sarcastic, but Justina looked at me intensely, her gaze drilling into me, daring me to make the wrong move.

  Why had the job suddenly become so important? I usually didn’t care about anything.

  Relaxing slightly, Justina glanced at the bank of screens, her gaze scanning each one in order. She obviously did that a lot.

  “Your mother was a witch, your father a warlock. I thought that was against the rules?”

  Smiling to myself, I shrugged. “Apparently, they fell so madly in love, they were stupid enough to go against the rules. They were hated for it, I might add.”

  “And, when did you lose them?” Justina’s expression was soft, but not full of pity. Which was a good thing. People who had tried to show me pity in the past had instantly lost my respect.

  “When I was ten. One minute, they were there, the next… gone.”

  Nodding, Justina kept eye contact, her gaze trying to see through the wall that I had built up around myself. She wouldn’t get far. No one ever did.

  “You say that you can use both witch and warlock magic?”

  Swallowing, I inclined my head. A lot of humans thought that magic was all the same, but it wasn’t. Witch magic had been the only magic I had used while growing up with my parents. Whispered spells, grimoires and familiars had filled my world. However, when my parents died and Isaac Senior had offered to train me, I’d learnt all about my warlock magic. Conjuring power into physical form made me feel invincible. There were no herbology lessons, only mind over matter.

  “I can. I’ve been taught well with both.”

  My go to was witch magic, but the more I faced physical threats, the more I used my brightly coloured magical weapons. They were quicker, and often caused someone to think twice about attacking me.

  Justina leant back in her seat. “And, what about combat training? It says that you’ve not done much of that.”

  Combat training, she had to be kidding? I thought that part of the application had been a joke. Why would I need to be able to fight when I could wipe people out with magic?

  Sighing, Justina bit her lip before she spoke again. “I can see that you’re reluctant to answer that question, but let me ask you this… Say you were spelled by a sorceress, a very powerful one, and they restricted your magic, would you be able to fight?”

  Pfft. Of course I would… I think. “Erm…”

  A laugh escaped us both as I tried to convince myself that I could throw a punch. It would be best to listen to the woman who ran a highly regarded agency.

  “Okay, so I need some combat training.”

  As we shared a smile, a door outside the room slammed. We were both on our feet as running footsteps headed towards the library, the door opening abruptly without whoever it was knocking.

  “Justina,” a tall man entered the room.

  He was built like a warrior, his frame over six feet. The dirty blonde hair on his head was shaggy, giving him a rough and ready look.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got trouble,” the man said in a gruff Australian accent.

  Going over to the bank of screens, he pointed at one of them. Justina was already out from behind her desk, following him.

  “Devon, this is Kurt Fielding. He’s my… partner.” Her hesitation made me wonder what the term partner actually meant to them.

  “I’ve got no time for pleasantries. Look at this…” Kurt’s arm muscles flexed as he pointed at movement on the screen they were focused on.

  His shirt was tight on his chest, accentuating the defined lines of muscles on his back. The leather trousers also hugged parts of him that were tempting to squeeze. No wonder Justina wanted to be his partner. They made a handsome pair.

  Sneaking over as they whispered between themselves, I looked over Justina’s shoulder, although it was almost impossible considering she was six inches taller than me. My small height, yes, I was five foot, made it difficult for me to see above the wall of the River Thames, let alone anyone’s shoulder.

  “They’re struggling, see?” Kurt was saying.

  Tracing the two people in a street in London, I gasped when I recognised the place on the screen.

  “What is it?” Justina asked me, her hands grabbing my arms.

  Clearing my throat, I looked up at them both. “That’s outside my…erm, someone I used to know... it’s his old shop.”

  “Do you recognise anyone there?” Kurt narrowed his blue eyes, his gaze boring into me.

  He looked suspicious, and rightly so. I was a random person who had come in for an interview and knew the exact location of a scuffle on the streets.

  “It could just be humans having a fight, couldn’t it? And, no, I don’t recognise anyone.”

  I snapped my mouth shut when the two people on screen blinked out of existence. Ah, witch magic. Kurt had obviously seen something before we had noticed. It was good that he questioned what was going on.

  “We have to get down there,” he told Justina. “Get rid of her.”

  The Australian was blunt. A lot of people didn’t like it when someo
ne was blunt with them, but I liked to know where I stood, so I respected him.

  As Justina turned to me, she covered a grim glare she had thrown at her partner. She obviously didn’t appreciate his bluntness as much as I did.

  “Devon, I would like to hire you on a probationary period. Your records check out, your references, although a little contrite, were acceptable. Can I call you when we’ve dealt with this?”

  Grinning, I nodded quickly, happy that Justina had taken it upon herself to thoroughly research me so I didn’t have to ‘prove’ my worth to her. It would be a lot easier to show her.

  “Great, if you could let yourself out,” Kurt interrupted, grabbing Justina’s arm to speak to her. “They’ve just returned, I think they’ve dumped a body.”

  Chapter 3

  “A dumped body, Kingsley,” I said to my pet rat. “How exciting!”

  His little nose twitched like it always did, sniffing my hand as I offered him a biscuit. Petting him on the head once he had snatched it from me, I slumped on the sofa.

  My apartment was pretty much a hive for depressive thoughts and feelings. The curtains were always pulled, the darkness hiding the disarray of witchy items that adorned every surface. Dream catchers, wands, divination cards. Even a candle or two…thousand.

  It wasn’t that I needed the items to do my magic, but everything in my small home had been my mother’s. She had been a traditional witch, one who liked to use tools to help her magic. And, I couldn’t bear to let her stuff go. Not since having to let her go.

  “What do you think, Kingsley?” I asked, glancing at the unmade bed with its bright lilac duvet cover. “Is it time to become the new and improved Devon? New job, new…cleanliness,” I muttered to myself as I stood.

  Kingsley Jinx was supposed to be my familiar. Yeah, witches still used them sometimes. However, something about his sweet little brown face made me pause before bonding him to me. It was as if he was asking me to let him help me in another way. I wasn’t sure why I had thought that, but ever since, I had often opened his cage and allowed him to roam the apartment. Every time, he cuddled me for a while before going back into his miniature home. What could I say? He loved me for me, not my magic.

  “Okay, first off, let’s open the curtains…”

  Yanking the heavy material that blocked the sun, I cringed as the light poured in, illuminating the state of the place. Ah, I had become sloppy. Who was I kidding? I had always been sloppy.

  My phone started to ring as I debated where to start. Sighing in relief at the distraction, I snatched it up from the coffee table. “Yeah?”

  “Devon,” a male voice hummed down the line.

  Shit, why didn’t I check to see who it was before I answered? For some reason, I’d hoped it would be Justina. But, unfortunately for me, it was Maxwell Maddocks, the next in line to the warlock leadership. And, a big fat pain in my arse.

  “What do you want?” I snapped.

  He chuckled, the sound whizzing through the phone. Ugh. He was cringe worthy, but powerful. He’d been trained by Isaac Senior his whole life. Which meant he was better at warlock magic than me. Yep, it was possible. Trust me, I had tried to fight him when he said that I was a pathetic weak witch. He may have won.

  “Let’s not keep playing games. You’ve avoided your duties for too long. If you’re determined to keep the leadership, you need to…you know…be a leader.”

  Maxwell had been known to me before I had accidentally killed Isaac, but we’d rarely crossed paths until now. I had spoken to him a couple of times since I had inherited the title of leader, but we hadn’t met in person to work it all out.

  “You sent your cronies after me last night. You’re lucky I didn’t chop off their…”

  Leaving the sentence open, I watched the dancing dust in the sunlight as I sat back on the sofa, pleased that I had accomplished something in the apartment, even if it was minimal.

  His chuckle made my teeth clench. “They said you were difficult. If you’re going to keep-”

  “Okay, okay,” I huffed, bored of the threats. “Set up a meeting. I’ll…”

  My phone beeped in my ear alerting me to another call. Bringing it away from my ear, I almost hyperventilated when I saw that it was Justina.

  “I have to go, there’s someone else on the line.” Hanging up before Maxwell could reply, I took a deep breath before I greeted my new boss.

  “Devon, can you get down here now?” Her breath was short, as if she had been running.

  Shooting up from where I sat, I grabbed my handbag, petted Kingsley and told her that I’d be right there. I was lying, it would take me at least fifteen minutes to get across town, but I wouldn’t be long. Especially if I ran. Although, I wouldn’t want to look desperate.

  Slamming my door shut, I cringed when the walls almost rattled. I had to get a new place, somewhere that didn’t have brown walls lining the hallway as I trotted out of the boarded up entrance door. It had been smashed in weeks ago, but the landlord didn’t care.

  I was about to turn left, my mind trying to work out the quickest route to the office. My feet stalled when a chill rushed down my spine, alerting me to…

  “Devon!”

  Turning, I released my held breath when Kurt waved me over to…a motorbike. He rode a motorbike? My cheeks heated. I was going to straddle the Australian on a rumbling engine and…

  “Hurry!”

  I was dawdling, I couldn’t help it. Snapping out of my little fantasy, I almost tripped as I basically launched myself towards him. He smirked when I righted myself and tugged on the arms of my leather jacket, just to make myself feel a little less awkward. It didn’t work.

  “Get on,” he said, handing me a helmet. “We need you.”

  For a split second, I accidentally on purpose assumed that he had said that he needed me. And, I had to admit, that although I rarely admitted to it, I needed him too. No, not him…but, sometimes I needed a man. Not that I ever sought them out.

  Physically shaking my head to clear the thought, I laughed at myself. I did not need him. He was Justina’s man, and a stranger, practically my other new boss. Shoving the helmet on, I climbed on the back of the bike and held the bar behind me.

  My squeal as the bike kicked off and zoomed through the streets of London caused Kurt to laugh, his strong back banging against my front. The movement made me laugh, which was something new. I rarely laughed.

  The office came into view much quicker than if I had walked to work. Work? Who would’ve ever thought that I would be excited about work?

  “Thanks for the lift,” I told him as he parked up around the back of the building after going down the side.

  Nodding, he took off his helmet and pointed at the back entrance. “No pissing around today, we’ve got a serious case.”

  “What makes you think I’d piss around?” I snapped, wishing I could suck the words back when he raised his eyebrows.

  “I don’t think you’re experienced enough. Justina wants to take a chance on you. I think she’s crazy. Enough said.”

  Kicking off the bike, he wheeled it away to where it lived in a little outhouse. Trying my hardest not to huff, I ran my hand through my hair, flicking the dark strands in front of my shoulder. I might not be the most experienced, or have any experience at all, but I would be capable. I just needed to prove that to Kurt.

  “Devon!” Justina greeted as I went through the back door, straight into a kitchen. “I heard the bike. We need to get on with it. Tea?”

  Her sentence made me blink. We needed to get on with…drinking tea? Well, if that was what my new job entailed, bring it on. I was a born and raised Londoner, tea was my thing.

  “Yes, please. Oh, wait, are you asking if I’ll make the tea?” I was the new recruit after all.

  Justina looked blank before she shook her head, frowning. “I was offering you tea. I’m not so high and mighty that I can’t boil the kettle.”

  She was placing mugs on a tray as we spoke, so why I ha
d assumed I’d be the one making it, I didn’t know. What was wrong with me? My stomach was quivering, my nerves getting to me. I was rarely afraid of anything. Why now?

  “You sent Kurt to get me before you knew I was even in,” I muttered, waving her away when she asked if I took sugar.

  The back door banged as Kurt came in. He shook his shaggy dark blonde hair out, winking at Justina as he did. “She lives in a shithole, like we suspected.”

  Gritting my teeth, I held back my snarky reply. He was my boss. He was my boss. I couldn’t tell my boss to piss off.

  “Kurt, that’s a little…” Justina dismissed him with a wave as she pointed at the tray. “Just bring the tea through, will you?”

  Following my actual boss, I kept my hands clenched by my side. His words had hit my chest, making me feel like I was two foot tall, instead of five. Yes, it was possible to feel even smaller than I already was.

  “Please, ignore him. He’s the bluntest, rudest, arrogant man you’ll ever come across. However…”

  “He’s hot,” I said, not thinking.

  My mouth clamped shut as she glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes danced with amusement, thank goodness. If she had been the jealous type, I would’ve just shot myself in the foot with an arrow of fire and magic. Yes, it would’ve been that serious.

  “He is. But, you’ve got to be a certain kind of woman to put up with him.”

  Returning her smile as we went into the library office, I almost tripped over the stupid step again.

  “Careful there,” a deep voice said as I righted myself.

  Oh crap. That voice. Those eyes. The tattoos.

  “Devon, this is Gerard. He’s our top agent. Gerard, this is Devon.”

  “The newbie,” I said, gingerly offering my hand as I drew nearer.

  The man from the night before was standing near the screens, his sleeveless black shirt hugging his muscular body. He was nowhere near as tall as Kurt, who came into the room, carrying the tray of mugs. But, he was still much taller than me.

  Taking my hand, Gerard shook it once before letting go. His gaze met mine briefly before he looked away. He wasn’t going to say anything about my little fight with the warlocks the night before, phew.