“You’re lucky I love you like a sister, Ash, or you’d be eating dirt right about now.” Stormy grumbled as she recognized her friend and long time partner’s scent. It was the morning after the second full moon of the month and it was a brutal night. Stormy felt like her head had been used for a battering ram. Her wolf wasn’t sharing any details of last night’s hunt, which was odd, but had happened before.
She’d flood her with memories at the most inopportune times, which, in turn, would piss Stormy off and cause a sparring match between her and her wolf personality for months.
“Damn it, Ash, a dress?” Stormy asked as she pushed her head through the white floral sun dress that Ashley had tossed her way.
Ashley shrugged her shoulders and held up a new sparkly belt buckle. “I brought the perfect accessory.” She placed it down on the ground and headed back toward her bright yellow Hummer. “We have a case and Kitty said that you need to dress better when we meet new clients. I’ll meet you at the truck.” Ashley practically skipped away on the trail.
“I don’t see you wearing a dress!” Stormy shouted as she took the few steps through the prickly grass that was needed to reach her new boots. It was her fault for tossing them in the first place.
She’d much rather be wearing the jeans and t-shirt Ash was wearing at the moment. The sundress made her feel completely out of place and out of her element, which was weird since earth was her element. She was an earth witch long before she became a werewolf and her powers blended nicely.
Stormy dusted off her hands and headed towards the Jeep. Ashley was already in the driver’s seat putting on some mauve lip gloss which looked amazing against her light skin and auburn hair.
“Want some?” She asked as she handed the lip stick her direction.
“I’d rather take a breath mint and a coffee.” Last night’s hunt was still fresh in her mouth and she wondered why her wolf waited so long to eat? The only conclusion she could come up with was that wolfie was pissed about something and wanted her human host to suffer.
Ashley tossed her some mints and pointed to the latte in the center console. “I always got your back, sis.”
“Except when you make me dress up like one of your dolls you used to play with when we were kids.” Stormy grumbled as she took a long swig of her coffee, then popped a mint in her mouth. Ashley was a sister witch. They grew up two doors down from each other and while they were as opposite as two souls could be they were best friends.
“Speaking of dress up, your make-up bag is in the back seat. You might want to freshen up a bit before we get to the client’s house. I hear Damon is on the case as well.”
Stormy pulled the black bag to her lap, opened it, and started applying some foundation to her tan skin, some concealer and mascara under her emerald eyes, a little pink lip gloss to her pouty lips. She ran a comb through her long, red, natural curls – which never seemed to cooperate with her after a change. “Thanks, Ash. Have Kitty and Emery returned from the coven meeting?”
“Not yet, but they should be back any day now.” Ashley maneuvered the vehicle like a pro. She’d spent her summers on a farm. The girl could four wheel, handle animals, and kick ass with the best of them. But her skills for the agency were of the ‘I see dead people’ variety – literally. She had a habit of being able to speak to the dead like no other witch Stormy had ever met. If she was on the case, there most likely was a murder.
“Who died?”
Ashley pursed her lips for a moment before answering. She contemplated waiting to break the news to Stormy until they got to their destination, but decided against it. Maybe it was better to get the reaction out before they met the client. “Lola Montane.”
Stormy blew her top. “As in Duke’s new fiancée, Lola?”
Ashley nodded her head and waited for the aftershocks.
“Holy shit kickers, Ash, Duke must be devastated.”
“Not the reaction I was expecting, but yes, I would hope so.”
Duke and Stormy were high school sweethearts, and they were engaged to be married about five years back. It was the werewolf attack that tore them apart. She had already had to keep the fact that she was a witch from him and suddenly she had to find a way to hide the small detail that she turned into a hairy beast once or twice a month. It became too much. Their families hoped they’d eventually get back together, until he met Lola and he was smitten by her Sofia Vegara personality and looks. That was the day Stormy had closed the book on ever finding a way back to Duke’s arms. “Don’t you think there is a conflict of interest here?”
“Kitty and Damon don’t seem to think it’s a problem.” Ashley smiled. “Neither do Emery or I. Five years ago was a long time and you’ve both changed.”
“That doesn’t mean that I don’t still care for him. He was my first love. I don’t know if I can handle this case.” Stormy felt a sadness roll over her. Duke was a good man who had been through a lot, and he didn’t deserve any more pain.
Ashley continued to maneuver through traffic like a professional race car driver taking on speeds that were 40 miles over the limit at times. Picking up Stormy had taken longer than she expected, and she was afraid that most of the crime scene would be worked over and little left for them to discover as far as evidence is concerned. “I am really sorry, Stormy, but I need your strength to help us solve this murder. Perhaps the best gift you can give Duke is to help bring his future wife’s murderer to justice.
Stormy cursed under her breath. She knew Ash was right. “Fine, but don’t think I’m happy about it.”
“I would never.” Ashley chuckled and a few minutes later she put the vehicle in park as they made it to Oval Lake.
“I guess an old dog never learns new tricks.” Stormy mumbled under her breath as she got out of the vehicle and surveyed the area. Oval lake was the one place she and Duke used to call their own. It was here that she was attacked and bitten. Duke was supposed to be on that camping trip with her, but instead his father called him out of town for business in Albany, New York. Stormy was so upset that she decided to go with Old Blue, her brindle Mastiff. He died protecting her only a mile from this very beach. “She wasn’t bitten was she?” Stormy asked as they met at the grill of the Jeep.
“If she was, she didn’t survive. That, and this wasn’t an animal attack call. This was murder.”
Stormy knew better. Her first act as a werewolf was to kill the one that bit her. She’d read somewhere in some stupid book about myths that if you kill the one that bit you you’d lift the werewolf curse. It was complete bull. She killed the wolf, and almost lost her life in the process, and went through the painful transformation at the next full moon. It was only after she killed her maker that her wolf began talking to her.
She scanned the horizon using her enhanced senses. A few days before and after the change her super human senses were at their peak. The morning after was like the wolf still had partial control of her body. She fought off the urge to get on all fours and sniff the area. It wouldn’t do them any good. “I’m not picking up any unusual scents, but we’ll have to come back later when no one is around so I can get closer to the ground.” She knelt down and picked up a few rocks as she examined the tree line.
Upstate New York was some of the prettiest country in the United States. It was also the most dangerous. They were surrounded by thick forested areas, and in the township they lived in, you could go one block to the next and not even know what was behind the tree cover a few feet away. It made for great hiding places and those that hid did so well because they needed to stay hidden.
“There’s some foliage disturbance in two directions,” Stormy pointed to her north and west, “but that could be hikers or campers. I need a closer look at the body and the area surrounding where her body was found.”
“Hey there, pretty ladies” Damon smiled as he approached them. “This is a crime scene and you should run on home.”
Stormy fought the urge to punch the gorgeous man in the f
ace. He was so condescending and an absolute chauvinist. She couldn’t for the life of her understand the crush she had on him. He was good looking, that was undeniable, with his dark hair, piercing blue eyes, muscular body, and shit kicker grin. But looks only ran skin deep. His personality was that of the male, macho, bully mentality that she hated with a passion. Every time she saw him she wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him silly, then he opened his mouth and she wanted to punch him. It was a very unhealthy, one way relationship.
“We’ve been asked to be here. Apparently our benefactors have little faith in your ability to solve this crime.” Ashley couldn’t help but smile at her jibe – she didn’t like him either.
“You may have been asked to investigate, but I don’t have to let you on the scene.” His wicked grin held Stormy’s attention a little longer than she wanted.
“You’re right, but you also know we can help if we work together. We’ve helped you with many cases so why don’t we stop the games and simply work together?” Ashley answered his threat.
“Why don’t you join my deputies, and I’d feel much better having you on the case?” He glanced pointedly at Stormy.
“You couldn’t cover our salary.” Stormy walked under the police tape and right onto the scene without a backward glance. She knew Ashley would handle the politics while she got in on the investigation. Besides she didn’t particularly feel comfortable with the way he was allowing his eyes to travel up and down her body. The only thing that kept their relationship at the crush level was that she found him desirable, and he didn’t return the feeling. If he suddenly got interested she’d have a hard time not falling into a sordid affair with the egotistical-know-it-all-sex-god walking.
Tucker, the county medical examiner, let out a low, approving whistle as she approached and she did the best she could to hide the blush his attention garnered. They had been friends since high school and Stormy knew he wanted more, but she was with Duke and he was one of Duke’s best friends.
“Looking about as sweet as a glass of lemonade on a hot afternoon, Storm. Why are you all dressed up?”
“Ashley’s idea of a practical joke. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make a stink about it.” As if his whistle wasn’t enough to draw unwanted attention, his comments were. Everyone working the crime scene; state, local and county police as well as his staff turned to gawk at her in her pretty little summer dress. She cursed Ashley once again under her breath and herself for not making it to a secure location last night in time for the change. She was unprepared and deserved all the razing she got. “What have you discovered so far?”
“You’re working this case? I figured you were here for moral support for Duke.” He tossed a gloved thumb over his shoulder. “The man’s pretty torn up.”
“I suppose he would be since he lost his fiancé.” Stormy said between her teeth. “Ashley is working out the particulars with Damon. What you got?”
“It’s pretty strange. Her body’s been drained of blood and carved up with some nasty markings. If I had to venture a guess, which I never do, I’d think this had something to do with a ritual of some sort.”
Stormy almost laughed out loud at that comment. Ritual killings didn’t happen in Maynard County. It was about as country as one could get in upstate New York, not to mention the witches had the area sealed up nicely in effective protection spells to keep the devil out of the area. “I think you’ve been reading too many crime novels, Tuck.”
Tucker lifted Lola’s shirt to reveal the carvings in her chest and abdomen. They were definitely symbols of some sort, but not any she’d ever seen before. “The blood pooling says the symbols were carved into her body before death. I can’t be sure, but the bruising indicates she was most likely raped by multiple assailants. The rape kit will tell us more once we get her back to the office.” Stormy sucked in a deep breath. She never really liked Lola, thought she was fake and something smelled off about her, but no one deserved to see the kind of brutality this woman saw before death. “The lack of blood at the scene tells me she wasn’t killed here. This was where they decided to dump the body.”
Stormy shook her head sadly. “I don’t know how you can do this job, Tuck. So much death and brutality.” She took out her camera phone and snapped a few pictures of the marks on her body.
“And who might you be?” His voice was velvety soft and a touch hypnotic. His scent was dangerous. He was a supernatural, but she couldn’t make out what exactly. She guessed he wore a disguise charm which meant he was friendly with witches. None she was familiar with, but still the witch signature was hard to deny. Only he wasn’t a witch.
Stormy turned to greet the stranger. “I’m Stormy White, lead investigator of Down and Out private investigations. And you are?”
“Beau Marcus of the FBI. I think we’ve got this investigation covered well enough. We don’t need PI’s in the mix getting things messed up.”
He wore a suit and tie that she’d seen other FBI agents wear and his blond hair was cut short, but there was something off about him. She knew by his pulse and scent he was lying and concealing something. “Thanks, but I’m sure Joseph Richards of the local office has no problem with my poking around. Why don’t you call him and verify it.” She turned back to take a few more pictures.
“Richards is not in charge of this investigation, I am, and I have a problem with unauthorized people on my crime scene.” He continued. “Now, either you can leave of your own will or I’ll have you escorted.”
“That won’t be necessary, agent Marcus.” Ashley smiled sweetly. She had that far away look in her eyes when she was in communication with a departed soul. “I’m pretty sure you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
Check out some of Jami Brumfield’s other books below
If you enjoy young adult paranormal fantasy series you’ll love my Winters Saga. Check out the first few chapters for free on Amazon here. http://tinyurl.com/poeqsuv
~Vampire Princess Rising (book two in the Winters Saga) is also available on Amazon and you can read the first few chapters here http://tinyurl.com/vampireprincessrising
~Fire Master Rising (book three in the Winters Saga) is scheduled for release in August 2014.
This book was editing by Michele Gwynn. Check out her Amazon author page and all her wonderful books here http://tinyurl.com/pg65ofn
Check out a sneak peek of Michele Gwynn’s awesome Science Fiction Horror novel Harvest here.
Chapter 1
July, 2010
Traveling home after a night out was not unusual for Dave Forrester. It was a Saturday night like any other. He’d hung out with his buddies at the local watering hole, and after a few games of pool, and a round or two of darts interspersed with beer and shots of Wild Turkey, he had clapped his buds on their arms, shaken hands, and promised to meet up again next week. So far, the only thing out of the ordinary had been the cute redhead seated at the far end of the bar all night. He kept sneaking looks at her, but Dave never quite got up the courage to approach her. She was prettier than he was used to, and he struggled with a slight inferiority complex.
So when last call came around, he finished off his last Corona, told his best buddy, Red, he’d see him tomorrow sometime, glanced briefly at the pretty lady, (offering the customary tipping of his hat in her direction) before heading out the door to his Chevy truck. Yep, nothing was new tonight but the same old, same old, and going home alone. Dave sighed heavily, feeling incredibly lonely. It had been a long time since he last was in a relationship; so long that he had forgotten how nice it felt to have a woman’s arms around his waist at night or how sweet the sound of feminine laughter could be. He might not remember those things but he knew he missed them.
It had been three years since Sherry had dumped him after cheating on him with a married man twice her age. He still didn’t understand how the hell that had happened, but the only thing Dave could figure out was the fellow was rich, and had more to offer financially than he did.
Sherry always did like gifts, and the stuffed bears, wildflowers and infrequent dinners out to the steakhouse with the all you can eat salad bar hadn’t satisfied her. God knows he had tried. Dave felt one lone tear begin in his left eye and he took a deep breath, sucking it up, refusing to allow any more tears to fall for that gal. Dammit, men just don’t cry. Sherry was just plain materialistic and love notes, hand holding and telling her he loved her hadn’t put designer clothes on her wonderfully sculpted body, hadn’t slid onto her fingers like diamond rings, and could never fly her to Monaco first class like all the other guy’s money had done. Sherry had no heart and didn’t deserve his.
With that last thought Dave tried to concentrate on the road ahead of him as he headed off down the country lane that would lead to his old-fashioned farm house on three acres of land. The house and land had come to him through his grandparents. When his granddad died five years back, his grandma, Effie, had been all alone in the house, unable to handle the planting and harvesting of the wheat and hay. Dave’s mom, Lynda, had subtly put the idea into her son’s head to move in with his grandmother, and help take care of things. Grandma Effie hadn’t wanted to lose the home she’d shared with her husband, Ernest, for over thirty years. Dave knew he’d end up with no choice in the matter, not that he minded much helping grandma out. The only setback had been in giving up his bachelor pad apartment which helped put a crimp in his love life with Sherry. She complained a lot whenever she and Dave had to go to her place to have sex, said a grown man ought to have his own place. She never understood that sometimes a grown man also has obligations to others as well. But that was in the past. Grandma Effie had declined in her health nonetheless after Ernest Hardy’s death. She just couldn’t seem to find a way to live her life without him, even with her grandson’s help. She passed on a year and half later, leaving the house and all the land to Dave. He’d been there ever since, making a go of farming. It wasn’t much, but he found he loved the simple labor. It was hard work, but he worked for himself, and what he made off the sale of the wheat and hay paid the bills. For the most part, Dave was content.
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