Magically Bound: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Hunted Witch Agency Book 1) Page 3

  I couldn’t help but follow the line of tattoos as they wound up his arms. They were numbers of different shapes, sizes and designs, all slotting in together perfectly. One arm was almost full, the other was half done.

  I was about to open my mouth to ask him about the sexy tats when Justina cleared her throat to get our attention.

  Quickly looking away, I thanked Kurt when he handed me my tea and gestured for me to sit. I did as he said, lowering myself into one of the leather armchairs. The two men stood while Justina settled behind her desk.

  Holding up a file, she quickly licked her lips. “This is the third kidnapping in two weeks. They’re getting brave. Devon, we’ve been working on a case for a couple of years now. The government supernatural bureau called us to take it over when they became too inundated with catching other rogue supernaturals. I never intended to set up an agency hunting witches alone. I mean, I never wanted to hunt my own kind, but it became necessary after hundreds of kidnappings.”

  “Hundreds?” I muttered, almost spilling my tea as I listened intently.

  Nodding, Justina put the file down and pointed at it. “The witch slave trade is the biggest in the world. Even bigger than the humans, which you’d think was impossible considering how many of them outnumber us.”

  “Witches take their own, that much we know,” Kurt carried on for his woman. “The London kidnappings are becoming more frequent and more violent.”

  “Was a body left last night?” I asked, my gaze avoiding Gerard’s as he glanced at me.

  I couldn’t handle his intenseness. He didn’t glare, which was lucky because his pretty eyes wouldn’t be as pretty if he did. But, his whole energy was just…intense.

  “Yes, but it was a human, not a witch. We think it’s a diversion for us. Which means they probably know we’re after them.” Justina cocked her head to the side as she watched me drink my tea.

  I almost shrunk in on myself when I noticed how intently she studied me. Was she looking for my reaction? Seeing if I could handle the information she was giving me.

  “You’re unique,” she said as if we were the only two people in the room.

  My palms started to sweat as her focus made the other two stare at me. Okay, why were they making such a fuss about me? I mean, yeah, I was unique, but…that was nothing new.

  When I didn’t say anything, Justina sat forward. “You’re half witch, half warlock.”

  Gerard almost grunted at her words. My gaze shot to him at the same time he looked away, studying the screens again. Did he just grunt in disgust? That’s what it had sounded like to me. Son of a…

  “Which means you may not have such a strong affiliation with the witches. We need agents who aren’t sympathetic to their kind. Like Gerard here.”

  “Yeah,” Kurt said, clapping the arrogant man’s back. “We only hired him because of his fighting skills. He’s far too soft over the witches.”

  Gerard glared at his boss, his energy pulsing even harder than it was before. If he wasn’t careful, his magic would erupt out of him. If he had warlock magic, which he wouldn’t, it would’ve been blue to match his mood.

  “Gerard isn’t too soft, he’s empathetic, that’s all. He cares more about those that are being taken, than he does about those who are taking them. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here.”

  Justina had obviously read my expression. I had wondered why they would hire someone who wouldn’t be impartial. Surely, any agent had to be impartial, no matter the creed of person they were hunting.

  “I’ve…” I swallowed, wishing that I was on my own with Justina. “…never been fully accepted into either coven, so I’m impartial. However, I was bought up as a witch by my mother. I didn’t even know about my warlock side, even though everyone treated me differently, even as a kid. I was eleven when I found out.”

  Kurt raised his eyebrows and pretended to play an invisible violin. Laughing, I stuck my middle finger up at him. A laugh escaped us both at the same time as Justina almost choked on her tea.

  “Now, now, children, let’s keep on track,” she said.

  The lighter atmosphere made me feel a little better, although Broody Mac-tattoey still sulked by himself. I decided there and then that he was high maintenance. Thank goodness I would be working with Justina, she was so much more kickass.

  “You have two kinds of magic, Devon, something I’ve never seen before.” My boss tucked her short blonde hair behind her ear. “Maybe you can give us a demonstration one day?”

  My heart beat harder in my chest, my breath hitching in my throat. “I’m not a circus act, ready to perform at your beck and call.”

  “Ouch,” Gerard muttered. “The cat has claws.”

  Holding up her hand as Kurt went to open his mouth, Justina silenced him. “You’re right. I apologise. However, you asked me for my help in training you yesterday. How can I train you if I don’t know what you’re already capable of?”

  Squirming on the seat, I went to place my tea on the table beside me. My hands were shaking, causing it to rest on the edge, too far over to stay on the surface. It started to drop, but before it could, I whispered a reverse spell. The tea that had been about to pour out sucked back in as the cup placed itself back onto the surface firmly.

  “Simple.” Gerard spoke again, making me glare at him. It wasn’t a magic competition, but I would happily give him a fight if he wanted it.

  “Let’s get on with it, shall we?” Kurt said, watching Justina as she got up and came around to the front of the desk.

  The way he flicked his eyes over her frame, the heated look intensifying, showed me what I had been a little unsure about. He was totally in love with her.

  “You’re on probation,” she reminded me before she glanced at Gerard. “So, you’re going to take her with you to the crime scene. We had a look last night, but it was dark. Hide yourself if you have to. Try and get some clues as to what happened.”

  Great, I had to work with Moody Mac-doodly on my first day. Just, fantastic. His good looks probably wouldn’t make up for his manopause. Probably.

  He nibbled on his bottom lip in an, oh so sexy and annoying way, but he didn’t say anything. Part of me wanted him to protest, just to give me more reason to not find him attractive, but my fingers were actually tingling in excitement. I was going to a crime scene. Me? Yes, me.

  “Go on, then,” Kurt said when the silence grew. “Gerard knows what to do.”

  Getting to my feet, I held my back straight and my head high. Justina trusted me enough already to send me out on my first assignment, without even so much as an introduction. Wait, was that a good thing?

  “Oh, and Gerard,” she called as he went to storm out ahead of me. “Just so you know, Devon once housed a Dark Crawler in her, you know the evil spirits who rot your body once inside…and, well, she’s still here.”

  My mouth dropped open as Gerard’s wide eyed gaze landed on me, his mouth opening and closing. Apparently, Justina wanted him to see that I wasn’t just some weak half-breed. Well, she was right, I wasn’t.

  Instead of replying, Gerard went out of the room, his exit a little less aggressive. Looking back at the others, I held up my hands. “Wish me luck,” I said, trying not to laugh.

  They both shouted luck at the same time, which was something they obviously did together because it made them giggle between themselves.

  Leaving, I wiggled my fingers as my magic became agitated. It always heightened my senses when I was nervous, making me on edge. Anxiety wasn’t something that any witch, warlock, or magical being should experience. But, just sometimes, it caught me out. Yes, I was kickass. Yes, I knew my way around my magic more than most beings. However, this was different. No more Miss Cocky.

  “Can you get a move on?” Gerard called from the front entrance.

  “Have you got a motorbike, too?” I asked as I hurried to catch up to him.

  Frowning, he pointed at his feet. “Nope, these babies work perfectly fine.”

  My di
sappointment wasn’t real. No, I was actually really glad I wouldn’t have to hold on to the back of a bike with my thighs cradling his. Nope. Not. At. All. Disappointed.

  “These babies are…” Looking down at my thick black leather knee boots, I smiled at the buckles reflecting the sun as we came out onto the walkway in front of the Thames. “…my babies.”

  “Are you smiling down at your boots as if they’re your children?” Gerard asked, tucking his hands into his jacket.

  I hadn’t noticed him put it on, but the grey suited his intense green eyes. He studied me, his gaze running up my distressed blue jeans and the black cami top, before zoning in on the black leather jacket. Standard agent wear. Except for the leather band bracelets around my wrists. They were just pretty.

  “I’ll have you know that these boots are my pride and joy. They go everywhere with me. If anyone was to walk a mile in them, they’d know all my secrets.” I grinned, genuinely prideful of the boots encasing my feet.

  “Okay.”

  Gerard walked off without saying anything else, leaving me standing by myself.

  Well, if he wasn’t going to appreciate my boots, I wouldn’t appreciate his behind, which was encased in jeans that weren’t too tight, but clung in the right places. No, I would not stare at his butt as I followed him.

  If this would be my view for the day, I would be perfectly happy investigating a crime scene. Even studying the dead body if I had to. Yep, this was going to be a good job.

  Chapter 4

  “You didn’t say anything about last night,” I said loudly enough for Gerard to hear as he navigated the tourists that lined the bank of the River Thames.

  He stopped, waiting for me to catch up. Aw, that was a bummer. Literally. I was quite enjoying watching the way his…legs…moved. Yes, his legs were in fine working order. Especially right where they were attached to his butt.

  Drawing level with him, I looked up, afraid at what I might see in his eyes. He didn’t keep contact for long, instantly looking ahead as he marched through the crowd.

  “You said you would find me, what did you mean?” The memory shot into my brain.

  Gerard had helped me. He had shot me down in the process, but he had stopped the warlock who had been gaining on me.

  “Nothing.” His short clipped reply let me know that he wouldn’t be drawn on the subject.

  He was obviously battling some ferocious demons inside; it was obvious from the glower that constantly rested on his face.

  “Don’t stare,” he muttered as we rounded the corner onto the pedestrian bridge that went over the River Thames. “I can hear your inner brain trying to analyse me.”

  A small smile cracked his lips when I made a noise of disbelief. “No, actually, I was just thinking that your face looks like a slapped arse. Until you smile, of course, then it looks very different.”

  Digging my phone out of my pocket when it burst into a tune, I didn’t get his response before the wind whipped it away. Either way, he was probably rude. Which meant I didn’t care what he had replied.

  “Is your ringtone the song from that male stripper film?” Gerard had the cheek to look perplexed.

  Seeing that it was Maxwell Maddocks on the phone, I let it ring off. I wasn’t in a position to talk to the warlock right now. Especially not when I had to defend my choice of ringtone to the man who was supposed to be training me.

  “There is nothing wrong with that film. It’s a classic.”

  Although his eyebrows rose, he kept walking, his stride a lot longer than mine. My breath started to puff as he trotted down the steps and onto the other side of the embankment. Our crime scene wasn’t too far away, but my little legs were shorter than his arms. Or, they could be, I wouldn’t know unless I actually tried to measure them. Now there was a thought.

  “Your magic last night, it was…” Gerard glanced sideways at me, long enough for eye contact to now feel totally awkward, but not long enough to gain any insight into what he was thinking. He was a closed book.

  “I’m proud of my heritage.” My words were quiet, true.

  “That you may be, but you’re also confused. I mean, why would you want to take on the leadership of the warlocks when you’ve been brought up as a witch?”

  Oh, now he knew all of my business? Who had told him? Ugh. Justina had probably debriefed him before I had got there. Great.

  He became very serious before he spoke again. “If we’re going to be partners, I need-”

  “Partners? Whoa, there, buddy. You may be Hunky Mac-broody, but I’m a nice girl, I don’t just-”

  “Agency partners, Devon.” He bit between his teeth as someone shoved past us.

  Frowning in the direction of the male human who had almost knocked me over, I hid my blush under the false pretences of a glare aimed at the human’s back.

  Clearing my throat, I laughed and marched on, ignoring him as best I could. I wasn’t aware that Justina would want me to partner up with Gerard, surely he was far too experienced for me. I needed someone who could train me, someone who understood me. Namely, Justina.

  “We’re almost there.” Gerard distracted me from my brooding as we got closer to the scene. “Stick by my side, say nothing, do nothing. Just…”

  “Be a good half-breed and keep my gob shut?”

  “Exactly.”

  Throwing him an evil glare, I followed him around the corner, jumping when a car horn beeped right in front of me. It was telling the driver in front to get a move on. They were all trying to peer into the cordoned off area at the side of the street, but a tent was up, hiding evidence from the public.

  “The police won’t appreciate us sniffing around, so…” Flicking his hand, Gerard invoked an invisibility spell over us.

  His magic settled on my skin, making me shudder. No one had ever used their magic on me, well, not unless they were trying to attack me. That had been a whole different matter.

  Just the gentle touch of his power made my skin blush with warmth. It was a completely new sensation.

  “Let’s go.” Without waiting for me, he stepped through the traffic and straight onto the crime scene.

  Following, I trotted to keep up, my boots thudding on the concrete ground. My heart raced in my chest, beating against my ribs as we got closer to the tent. Was the body still at the scene?

  “There,” Gerard said, pointing at the shop door.

  Swallowing, I allowed myself to look to where he indicated. The warlock shop was well known to me. It had been my training ground and…my killing ground. Yep, this was where I had slaughtered Isaac when I had been possessed by the Dark Crawler.

  “Are you listening?” Gerard asked, bringing me back to the present.

  Shaking my head, I went over and examined the door closely. A blood spot, barely bigger than a pinhead, was just below the handle. Interesting.

  “How did you see that?”

  Shrugging, Gerard dug something out of his pocket. Slipping his tattooed hand into a plastic glove, he took a swab of the blood, putting it away for safe keeping when he was done.

  “I check the small details first, then work upwards. I’ve been doing this since I was old enough to apply.”

  Watching as he studied the cracks of the pavement, the edges of the windows of the shop, and then finally moving to the tent, I observed his technique.

  A policeman came out of the tent, his back stiffening slightly. He couldn’t see us, but he looked in our direction. Could he feel us there? If so, Gerard’s power wasn’t as strong as I had imagined.

  “He’s trained to deal with the supernatural. He doesn’t know we’re here, but he can feel that something is off,” Gerard explained before I even had to ask.

  Moving away, the policeman shook his head, muttering something under his breath. Probably something derogatory about the supernatural world. Not many humans knew about us, but the government, and a lot of their employees, did.

  Keeping my gaze on Gerard as he looked around the entrance, my gaze
caught the number seven on his arm. The tattoo was swirly, almost girly, yet, it didn’t look that way on him. There had to be a reason he had so many numbers tattooed on his skin.

  “Here,” he said suddenly, jolting me out of my musings.

  Going over to where he crouched, I looked down to where he pointed. A cigarette was on the ground, the end still lit. Yet, it wasn’t burning down. The smoke was so small, it vanished as soon as it left the end.

  “That’s got…” My eyes widened when I noticed the tiny crimson splash on the white part of the cigarette.

  Searching around it, I couldn’t find any other spots of blood, which meant…

  “That’s a witch cigarette, invented by a friend of mine. Nicotine that never burns down, allowing a chain smoker to keep puffing without re-lighting another one.”

  “And, it has blood on it. When there’s no other blood around here.”

  Nodding, Gerard didn’t even smile at my clever analysis. Not many people would’ve worked it out, surely he should acknowledge my skill. Huffing to myself, I moved over to the tent. Holding my breath, I gazed inside. My heart flipped in my chest at what I might see, but phew, the body was gone. A lone officer was packing away his clean up kit. There was a stain on the cement, but the blood had been scrubbed away.

  He swung towards me, grabbing his case at the same time as I slipped into the tent, my stomach churning as his arm lightly brushed the sleeve of my jacket, but not enough to cause any friction.

  “Devon,” Gerard hissed from outside. “Where are you?”

  Sticking my head out the flap of the tent after the officer disappeared, I whistled to him. He swore as he tucked his new evidence into another pocket. The man was a walking bag. Maybe I could ask him to carry my bag, it would save me the hassle.

  “There’s nothing left in here, except a scrubbed stain. We’re not going to get much from that,” I told him as he came in and crouched down, flexing the muscles of his thighs.

  I went to lower myself next to him, my small frame tiny compared to his. He glanced sideways at me, his face clear of any emotion. “There’s always something left. The Hunted Witch Agency teaches us that no matter how empty a scene looks, there’s always a clue. And, we’re not allowed to give up until we’ve found something.”