Spells & Death

by Rachel Medhurst

  Spells & Death

  Paranormal MI5 Book 1

  By Rachel Medhurst

  Copyright 2018 © Rachel Medhurst

  Please note that the author is English so spelling is in British English.

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  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Spells & Life – Book 2

  Author’s Books

  Copyright

  Author

  Chapter 1

  His laugh resonated as a gunshot rang out. Adrenaline filtered through my veins as I ducked, my high ponytail whipping up and slapping me on the back. My leg muscles clenched and relaxed as my arms swung back and forth, propelling me forward.

  The bank of the River Thames changed gradient suddenly. The soft grass beneath my feet turned hard as concrete replaced it. The dim lights from the pathway my only aid.

  “Come on,” I willed myself as my breath sifted in through my nose and out through my mouth, just like Kate had taught me.

  My fellow agent wouldn’t be proud of me. Chasing the suspect had not been on the agenda. However, when he’d left his house, I couldn’t help but follow. Okay, so being on lookout duty overnight had been a good excuse for me to listen to my most recent audiobook, but after it had finished I’d got bored. Hence, following the man who was now running across the road and into the high street.

  Shops were closed up for the night. Our suspect, who was five foot eight with bright blonde hair, glanced over his shoulder. His earlier shot had missed me, but as he flung his arm back again, trying to aim, I noticed a woman on the other side of the road. No, he would not harm an innocent person.

  Taking a deep breath, I connected into the ley line and dragged pure witch magic through me. Holding up my arm as I ran, I whispered a barrier spell, bringing it up directly in front of him. A smile came to my lips as his face planted straight into it, falling backwards as his gun skidded on the ground.

  “Gotcha!” My exclamation was cut short as he spun and crawled back to his feet.

  I was gaining on him, my momentum forcing me forward. The son of a bitch had caught me following him when he’d stopped to tie up his shoelace. His sudden spurt had triggered my fight mode. If he wasn’t guilty of terrorism, he wouldn’t have run.

  “They warned me that Paranormal MI5 were watching. I must admit, I didn’t believe them.”

  He stood still, his chest heaving, his eyes glancing around. I faced him, my own breathing rapid as I checked that the woman had disappeared. She had. This part of London was known for its high crime rate. Which was in my favour because it meant that most people stayed indoors after dark. The underworld was slowly leaching out of hiding, which wasn’t allowed. The human government had pushed us to try harder to catch our criminal supernaturals.

  “I need to take you in for questioning,” I told him, not bothering to elaborate on why.

  He shook his head, his blue eyes widening as I approached. Throwing my hand up when he went to dive for his gun, I laughed when he froze, his body going completely still.

  “You’re that Essex witch,” he squeezed between his teeth.

  Finally, able to breathe evenly, I allowed myself to relax. He was in my custody, I would take him in and interrogate him. The other members of my team had wanted to watch him to gain evidence, but my patience was wearing thin. I wasn’t exactly known for tolerance.

  Tilting my head to the side, I put my hands on my hips. The leather of my trousers was slick under my damp palms.

  “Are you wearing a... Harry Potter T-shirt?” His frown made my teeth clench.

  “What’s wrong with my shirt?” Okay, so I probably shouldn’t be debating my clothing with the suspect, but the dude just dissed my world.

  Blinking, the man gritted his teeth, obviously trying to move his extended arm. It didn’t work. It never would. Why? Because I was an Essex witch, which meant that I was connected to the ley line. In my world, Essex witches were the only protectors of pure witch magic.

  There were warlocks and they accessed the dirty undertones of Mother Earth’s magic. Normal witches used the pure magic, but they were unable to connect into the line directly. Shifters and vampires didn’t use magic, so they were no threat to me. However, if anyone, and I mean, anyone, dared to gain access to the line, they would have me to skewer them.

  “You’re a renowned Paranormal MI5 witch and you’re wearing a book T-shirt. I... well, I respect your-” His tone changed as I came nearer, my eyes able to look straight into his. “You’re taller than you look. Skinnier, too.”

  Wait, not only had he fired at me, he was picking my appearance apart. The stupid man would get what was coming to him.

  “Wait!” he said loudly as I slid my dagger from its pouch. It was slung around my waist, the left side with a pocket for my gun, the right housed my Essex dagger. A dagger that could only be used by a witch connected to the ley line.

  “I can give you names.”

  His words caused me to pause, the dagger halfway to his face. I wasn’t going to cut him, I would get way too much disciplinary action for that. He didn’t know that though, did he? It was fun being an agent. Especially when I caught the bad guys.

  If he could give me names, however, I had to be nice. Didn’t want to scare him too much before I got him to the Paranormal MI5 building.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket as I released the spell and indicated that he should turn around so I could cuff him. Reaching to grab my phone, I pressed the answer button when I saw Dave’s name. My desk friend had probably just woken up, ready to check on me.

  “Bitch!” The man in front of me ducked quickly, kicking his leg out as he grabbed his discarded gun.

  The bottom of his shoe ploughed into my chest, sending me backwards before I could react. The bastard!

  Spinning before I hit the floor, I invoked a spell to keep me upright. The flash of magic made my skin warm as the suspect ran away. My feet rectified themselves as I threw my arms forward, dragged up magic from below and-

  The bullet thudded into my chest, the impact sending a spurt of blood up onto my cheek. Shit! He’d just ruined my favourite Harry Potter shirt. He’d pay for that. I would catch his short arse and shove that gun where the sun didn’t shine.

  As my body propelled backwards, I marvelled at the almost pitch black sky. I’d been warned not to chase the killer on my own. Seemed like my confidence had finally caught up to me.

  “Goodbye world,” I whispered as my arse smacked against the cold concrete.

  Falling to lay on my back, I clasped my hand over the bullet entry hole. The squelch of blood wasn’t a good sign as emotions inundated me. Tears came to my eyes as I swallowed, remembering the few people I had allowed into my life. Dave, my desk friend... he hadn’t long been my work partner. He was always at the agency building, being my virtual eyes as I tracked down those that I hunted. My boss had just assigned me a team, too. Apparently, the department was growing. I hadn’t been best pleased about that considering I’d been in control the whole time. Sharing my cases with others wasn’t something I’d taken lightly.

  Tears ran down my cheeks as I thought about my mother. She would berate me for letting my guard down. Well, she wouldn’t get the chance, would she?

  Silence surrounded me as pain lanced my chest. The stars tw
inkled above, the little buggers taunting me as my breath slowed and my heartbeat stalled. I had to admit, this wasn’t how I imagined I would die. I’d fantasised that I’d be old and grey, lying in bed with a book fallen from my hand. A romantic ending for a not so romantic woman.

  Taking a deep breath as the warmth left me, I waited. My eyes fluttered closed as my heart stopped beating.

  The world was gone.

  I could sense myself levitating out of my body. My spirit would go back to Mother Earth almost immediately...

  I sat up straight as my heart thudded hard in my chest, sending adrenaline through my veins. My breath came quickly, suddenly, as palpitations caused my limbs to shake.

  Pulling my hand away from my chest, I gasped at the smear of blood. Looking behind me, I cringed at the amount of blood that was gathered in a pool on the ground.

  “What the...?”

  “Gemma?” Dave’s distant voice came from my phone where it laid on the floor nearby.

  I could’ve sworn I’d just died. Why was I feeling perfectly normal, when moments before, I’d bled to death?

  Lifting my stained Harry Potter T-shirt, I felt for the bullet hole. It was there, gaping slightly, but the blood had stopped flowing. My finger prodded to see if the bullet had only wedged in slightly. That would explain the fact that I was still alive, and yet there was no pain. Nope, I couldn’t feel the tip of it.

  “Gemma, are you there? What happened?”

  Grabbing my phone, I brought it to my ear. “Dave?”

  His rush of breath sounded down the line. “Thank fuck. What’s going on? I heard a gunshot. Are you okay? Is anybody hurt?”

  A laugh escaped my mouth unbidden. I was fine. I was alive. My heart hadn’t stopped beating. Well, it had... Jeez, I was confused.

  “I’m fine, I think.” Coughing, I leant forward as liquid ran up my throat.

  Spitting it out, I started to hyperventilate. It was blood. My blood. How was I not dead?

  “I can see where you are, I’m sending the others to you.”

  Shaking my head, even though he couldn’t see me, I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my free hand. “No, I’m going home to change before I come in. I’ll explain what happened when I get there.”

  Agreeing to let me get on with it, Dave hung up the phone. Looking around, I dragged myself to my feet. My boots were scuffed and mucky from the concrete, but the blood hadn’t reached them. My shirt was completely and utterly ruined. Brianna, my best friend, would kill me. She had bought it for my last birthday.

  The irony of thinking about my vampire friend made me snort. She would’ve struggled to stick around with all this blood. All my blood.

  As my feet dragged me away from my lifeblood, I headed home in a daze. The bullet was still lodged in my chest, I could feel it right near my heart. Tears came to my eyes. Somewhere, deep down, I knew what had happened.

  The bullet had killed me. Even though I was walking around as if I was alive, somehow, someway, I knew that I was dead.

  Chapter 2

  “Gemma?” Dave’s voice called me across the lobby as I headed for the elevators.

  Paranormal MI5’s headquarters were based in an old library. They’d desecrated the building with their modern technology, but the wooden features were still intact. I’d asked the director where all the books were, but he wasn’t inclined to tell me. Probably knew that I’d rip him a new one if they hadn’t been looked after.

  “Dave,” I muttered, unable to look at him as I quickly pressed the button for the elevator.

  “You’re looking pale. Are you going to tell me what happened?”

  Glancing at him as we shuffled into the elevator, I cleared my face of expression. His hazel eyes were bright, as always. His broad chest was directly in front of my face, the light blue shirt he wore stretched tight across his muscles.

  “You’re freaking me out.” He tugged at his shaggy light brown hair, the way he did when he was concentrating on a lead.

  The surfer dude look mixed with a smart suit for work somehow made sense on him. And, yet, there were moments when his sunny exterior made way for a more brooding man. That part of him intrigued me, but I had left him well alone. Personal relationships of any kind were a no no for me. Not even my best friend, Brianna, knew I was an agent. The pretence was hard to keep up. And, although Dave was also an agent, he was far too close in a work related way.

  Touching my chest unconsciously as the door pinged closed, I plastered a fake smile on my face and looked up at him. “I’m good. You know how long those night shifts can be.”

  It might have been a big fat lie, but sue me. Somehow, I didn’t think he would believe me if I told him that I’d been shot, died and come back to life. If that’s what had happened, of course.

  I’d gone back to my house, showered and stared at myself in the mirror. Not because I was impressed by how I looked, but because I couldn’t quite work out how I was still alive. The wound in my chest had still gaped open. A quick botch job of stitching myself had made me clench my teeth, but the pain wasn’t as bad as it should’ve been.

  “What happened this morning?” Dave demanded as the elevator doors pinged open.

  Taking a deep breath, I stepped onto the MI5’s main office floor. Directly in front of me, there was a large reception desk. Behind it was a circular glass wall that took up the complete centre of the floor. A couple of small gaps in the glass allowed access to the rec room. TVs, sofas, games and consoles were littered throughout. A kitchenette served as a food area, allowing agents to eat whenever they wanted.

  Walkways swerved around the rec centre, the offices of various agents on the outside. Their glass walls were covered in different posters and paintings to give them privacy.

  Making my way to my office at the back of the floor, I waved to other agents as they greeted me cheerfully. Why was everyone so happy all the time?

  “I might have lost our suspect, Peter Mason.”

  His hand landed on my shoulder, stopping me from opening my office door. “You did what?”

  Shrugging him off, I turned to face him. He eyed my Book Nerd T-shirt before he raised his eyebrows.

  Folding my arms across my chest, I avoided his gaze. “I chased him, he got away. The gunshot you heard...” Did I tell him? The words were right on the edge of my lips. “...it missed, but it was close.”

  Squaring his big shoulders, Dave shook his head. Yeah, I’d let him be all judgey this time, but only because I wanted to keep my secret for now.

  Ignoring him, I shoved into my office. The window was open, allowing the sounds and smell of London city to filter in. Car horns and pollution wasn’t exactly my idea of heaven, but it was familiar.

  My glass wall was covered in book posters. My top twenty rotated once a year. Other agents had likened me to a teenage girl, even though I was twenty-five years old. However, when they saw me fight, they changed their tune. Not many of them spoke to me, I kept to myself as much as I could.

  “You shouldn’t technically be in for another few hours. You should’ve slept. You know that sleepless Gemma isn’t exactly a happy agent.”

  Dave went over to his desk. It was tucked in the corner, the glass quarter-circle out of place in my wooden themed office. I’d tried to fight him on his choice of tech, but he’d been insistent. Apparently, the building was no longer a library, so he didn’t want to feel like he worked in one. As such opposites, I sometimes wondered how we worked so well together.

  “I couldn’t sleep, I need to track down Peter Mason. He ran, which means he’s hiding something.”

  Dave’s snort reached me as I sat behind my oak desk, swinging my legs under my snazzy chair. Glaring at him as he popped his earphones on, I unlocked my drawer and brought out my tablet.

  “Go on,” I said when I felt his gaze boring into me. “Tell me why you snorted. I can sense that you’re desperate to say something.”

  “Well,” he started, grinning at me when I glared even harder.
“I would run if you were following me at night, too. Weirdo lady stalks prey in the darkness.”

  “Weirdo? Why, thank you for the compliment.” I wasn’t joking, either. Ever since I was a child, my mother had encouraged me to be myself.

  As a witch, my training had begun since birth. As a Paranormal MI5 Essex witch who protected the ley lines, my training had begun when I was five. Yeah, that’s right, I was five when I first linked into the ley line. And, I’d been protecting it ever since.

  Frowning, Dave fired up his computer. “I’ve never known anyone who actually likes to be called weird.”

  He was the type of guy who would’ve been popular in school. His brain was extremely advanced, which was how he had landed a job in Paranormal MI5. He was my desk friend. He was connected to me by a bud in my ear when we were working on a case. I wore a camera attached to my belt so he could see what was going on.

  “I’ve never known a witch not able to do magic... I guess we’re equal.”

  “Touché,” he exclaimed, winking at me when I tried not to smile.

  Dave wasn’t able to be in the field because he was an illusionist witch. He didn’t have his own connection to Mother Earth to gain her magic. He could only syphon magic from others and create illusions with it. It was strictly against paranormal law, which ironically was formed by the human government. People like Dave were dangerous, so the agency decided to recruit him.

  “Peter Mason has known connections with the fundamentalist group PFF.” Dave had brought up our suspect’s file, allowing me to see it on my tablet.

  “Paranormals For Freedom,” I muttered, almost spitting the words.

  The group had been founded by a leader of each paranormal species. A vampire, witch, warlock, and shifter had come together to advocate for a free world. The human government had been in control for a long time. They demanded that we keep our existence a secret from the human world. There were hundreds of thousands more humans than there were paranormals. They would take us down easily, even with our magic.

  “I had to follow him, it was the first time he’d left the house in days.”