Hexes and Hellfire: Kyra Bell: Book One

by Brittany Rose

  The bag on my shoulders fed me what I wanted with a little concentration. Two cast-iron cauldrons, a stainless-steel cauldron, and a ceramic cauldron all came out. I also pulled out a crock-pot and looked for a place to plug it in. Purists would be angry about that last, but a crock pot was perfect for simmering potions that took days to make, like the rejuvenation potion I’d promised, without keeping a constant eye on it. It was much more dependable on maintaining a constant and consistent temperature. I’d just have to be there when it was time to stir, channel more magic into it, or add new ingredients.

  That was enough for everything needed, so I left the few other cauldrons in my bag. I wouldn’t need them here and they were quite valuable. No reason to show all my cards on the first day. If I had to use them, I could always use the potions laboratory inside my portable mound. I doubted it though, if I needed to brew curses, I’d be better off just leaving and looking elsewhere. I didn’t like to do it, but I had an affinity for it, and sometimes a well-brewed curse could be downright beneficial.

  The problem was, curses always had a downside. But, a wart or clubbed foot was better than cancer, wasn’t it? I also avoided the dark curses, the ones for revenge, they were bad news.

  Healing potions were worthless against cancers, and some other diseases. They healed the body, but they didn’t stop the body from destroying itself. For that, you’d need a curse, to harm the cancer but not the rest of the body. Of course, it was highly illegal, left hand magic, and probably wouldn’t come up.

  I also pulled out two mortars and pestles, and a few cutting knives. Some things had to remain separate, since it wasn’t a good idea to mix and match brew types in the same cauldron. Specifically, the second cast iron cauldron, mortar and pestle, would be used for my personal offensive potions. They had… for lack of a better term, different personalities based on the magic I channeled.

  Potion making was both art and science, and I loved it. It was something I excelled at, because as a weak earth witch I could focus on doing the few things within my grasp very well. Most witches merely dabbled in it, and I wasn’t bragging when I say I was among the very best. I let my magic guide me. The size of the brew, the ambient magic, the temperature and even humidity could affect the end result. Which meant blindly following a recipe could have random affects from any of those things, the time, exact ingredients, and their amounts varied from brew to brew if I wanted to maintain the same high quality in changing conditions.

  I started the rejuvenation potion first, since I wouldn’t need a drop of Vic’s blood until the very end of it. Once that was simmering, I got the healing potion brew going as well in the ceramic cauldron, for our personal use. I already had a bunch of them for myself, so I brewed that for John and Abby. Once that was simmering, I worked on the three potions one at a time in the iron cauldron.

  It was easy enough to keep track of it all, letting my instincts and magic guide me when the healing or rejuvenation brews needed my attention. The potions for the store were beyond simple, and they took a half an hour each. I wound up brewing the four lowest in inventory potions that morning, in three hours. The extra hour was from scrubbing the cauldron and cleaning my equipment between brews.

  Three hours was also when the healing brew finished, and after it cooled I got them all bottled up in vials and labeled, and I put them on the shelves. Except the healing potions, which I’d deliver to Abby at lunchtime which wasn’t far off. The shelved potions would last for about three months without the benefit of being stored in my mound, so I decided each day I’d brew any potions that had dipped below the halfway mark of maximum inventory and expected sales. That was more than a large enough cushion, considering the potion inventory was how many of them they sold per month.

  That meant I’d need to brew two more batches of potion that afternoon, the rest of the inventory was above that half inventory number. That’d leave me plenty of free time for maintaining the rejuvenation potion, and any others I might decide to make for myself. I had more than enough offensive potions made though, so it looked like I’d have some spare time.

  All in all, it seemed I’d have plenty of time to pursue my own witchcraft studies, and experiment with new potions.

  I put the healing potions in a small box, and I checked the rejuvenation brew one last time before I headed back to the mansion for lunch.

  As I headed out the door, I ran into Vic who must’ve been headed to lunch as well. I walked beside him, though his stride was a little fast for my natural walk.

  “I’m making you a rejuvenation potion, if you don’t mind, I’ll need a drop of your blood the day after tomorrow.”

  He grunted skeptically.

  I kind of got it, giving a witch your blood, a witch you just met, wasn’t exactly wise. A witch could do a lot of things with blood, fingernail clippings, or hair. A lot of them distinctly unpleasant. It was something even witches were conscious of. Still, he had two and half days to get to know me before he decided.

  He said, “We’ll see. You didn’t waste any time.”

  I shrugged, “Four potions were almost out, and I’ll get two more that are below half inventory after lunch. I know you’re fighting tonight, you’ll have to make do with a healing potion if its needed, the other takes three days.”

  He shrugged, “I’ll be fine, even if it takes a couple of hours to regain my magic, I’ll be good by morning.”

  Right, men were all the same, and wouldn’t admit to it even if they were dying. That went double for shifters, who would probably argue they were just fine from the afterlife.

  “So, what do you get up to around here?”

  He grunted, “Take care of the horses, call a vet when it’s required. Riding lessons. Supervise the stable hands that clean and put down fresh straw, as well as supervise Jayce in the store. It’s a good place, lots of room to run the trails when I shift at night.”

  “Night?”

  He nodded, “I’m also the first line of defense, keep my nose out for any other supernatural scents, if any of the other groups get in mind to cause trouble. John guards us at night when we sleep, so I get my run in after he relieves me. I can’t be two miles away on a trail if the shit hits the fan.

  “Abby keeps an eye out too of course. An air witch can usually see trouble coming a long way off, but there are always exceptions. You ever go anywhere without that bag?”

  I laughed, “Nope. Never know when I might need it.”

  He snorted, “How do you fight with potions anyway, offer the enemy a drink?”

  I snickered, “Injected is as good as drank, I use tranquilizer guns for a delivery system.”

  That’s one of several things pop culture gets wrong, throwing a potion at someone will just get them wet. There are some exceptions to that, potions that can be aerosolized and are effective if someone breaths it in, but they’re also incredibly dangerous to use. If my ally is fighting the enemy up close then they’ll be affected too, and if the wind blows in the wrong direction it might hit me too. I prefer a more surgical tactic, what I hit goes down, no one else.

  He snickered, “I don’t imagine it’s easy to hit a fast-moving vampire, or even a shifter.”

  I shrugged, “Fae are much quicker than humans or witches, that includes aiming and shooting a pistol. Not as fast as vampires, but it’s worked for me so far. I stick to quick acting disabling agents. Paralyzing, sleep, or influence.”

  The other two was a second sleep potion tuned for humans, the one that would knock out a shifter or witch would be too strong for a human. The fifth gun had holy water, just in case. Nothing else would even begin to hurt a demon, at least potion wise. So far, that hadn’t come up.

  “Influence?”

  I said, “Vampires are resistant to paralyzing or sleep potions, but hit them with the latter and they’ll be confused, disoriented from having their short-term memory wiped, and slow to act. Makes them easy to stab, or just walk away from, and they’re liable to forget they were even in a figh
t in the latter case.”

  He snorted, he really seemed to do that a lot, but this time it was tinged by humor.

  We’d also made it to the house for lunch.

  Chapter Four

  He seemed so nice, or… he was always a good boy, or… I just can’t believe it, are all things the neighbors of serial killers say to the press after they’d been caught. Not that I believed for a moment anyone in the car with me was faking it, but I was a little tense that first night with my new group. Everything at the fight should be fine, it sounded like a long-term weekly thing that was stable, but I hardly knew them.

  I’d only met Vic and Abby that day, and I’d met John less than five minutes before we’d piled into the SUV and started the hour drive into the city. I think I half expected Vic to punch me out in the backseat, and then they’d sacrifice me or something, but at the same time I didn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it.

  Other side of the coin, they didn’t really know me yet. If everything went south, would they really have my back, or just each other’s?

  Would I have theirs?

  Trust was both a precious and foolish commodity in my world. I’d do my best look out for them tonight, but I wasn’t going to take a bullet for them either. That probably made me sound bad, a selfish pessimist, but I was just a realist. Our world was dangerous, and the council hunter teams surely weren’t on our side. They were on the side of bury the truth and don’t freak out the humans.

  In groups, all we had was each other, but I didn’t know them well enough, and as Abby had said I was on a trial right now, in two weeks I could leave, or they could kick me out. A day wasn’t exactly long enough to build those bonds of trust. Especially since all of us were reluctant to reveal our pasts and what brought us there. I knew I was, and I knew better than to ask.

  I’d have been a fool to take them all at face value. Even if they were nice as a rule, everyone put their best foot forward when meeting others and dealing with others for the first time. Sure, it seemed like I’d struck the jackpot, and finally found a good group to join, but only time would tell.

  John Meeks drove us, with Abby in the passenger seat. He was six foot one, with short dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. He was wiry of build and looked nice enough. He was handsome enough in a pretty boy way, and far older than his twenty-something looks. He was also Abby’s lover, and completely off the menu for me, but that was fine, I was far more attracted to Vic.

  Of course, as I’d said earlier, Vic was probably a dog, and I should stay away from him.

  John broke the awkward silence, and I bet they’d have been talking a lot more without the new girl in the car.

  “So, Kyra. How was your first day with us.”

  I scowled, on the inside, on the outside I smiled at the rearview mirror.

  “Good so far.”

  Ask me again on the ride back to the ranch, but I didn’t say that out loud.

  John smirked, probably at my short answer, “Any problems with the potions list?”

  Abby answered before I could, and I ignored the flush of pride that went through me.

  “She already re-stocked the six potions we were lowest on today, didn’t ask a question and used her own equipment. I checked them this afternoon, and they’re all high quality, the kind of potions you could expect to buy in the city from a full coven. She also brewed the group some healing potions.”

  John looked impressed.

  I supposed my potions mastery at such a young age was odd, but then my witch and fae magic was basic being a mutt, it was all I’d had to focus on and learn. A little diverse, having the basics of both, but I’d been well taught by my mother, who’d been rather… strict.

  John asked, “You ride?”

  “Never, but I’m curious about it.”

  John smiled, “You should. I don’t get to anymore, obviously. Horses can’t see in the dark, and they don’t like vampires as a rule. I have to stay away from them since the turn.”

  Vic grunted, and I swallowed a smile, but it was difficult.

  “Yet, you work at a horse ranch, that must be hard?”

  Like working at the beach, and not being able to go in the ocean.

  John smirked, and stole a glance at Abby, “Oh, it has it’s compensations. I have other hobbies as well, and plenty of time to pursue them in the small hours when I guard your sleep.”

  I nodded, curious why he wasn’t welcome at his coven, by the vampires that turned him, and how he’d wound up here. I was curious about Vic as well, why he wasn’t with a pack, but I swallowed all of that. If they wanted me to know, they’d tell me. I wasn’t at all tempted to tell them my full story, if I was lucky all they’d do is chase me off, most likely they’d panic and try to kill me.

  Not that I was evil, I wasn’t, but then everyone was the hero of their own life, weren’t they?

  Abby wasn’t nearly so hard to figure out. She owned the place, and I got the impression it’s where she’d grown up.

  Abby turned and looked back at me, “I forgot to mention. The split tonight for potion sales is forty-forty-twenty, instead of the fifty-fifty at my shop. At the end of the night we need to turn in twenty percent of the take to whoever Adele sends around to collect, after all the humans are gone.”

  “No problem.”

  It even sounded reasonable, for an aggressive fire witch from hell running the whole thing.

  “The other three leaders in the area?”

  John said, “Sally, Stan, and Gabe. Sally’s a water witch, and while she’s nice enough she’s manipulative and not to be trusted. Stan is a fae, and he has a mound south of the city in the forest with a number of shifters and witches. Gabe is a vamp, much older and more powerful than I am, and he has a good mix of races. All of them have at least one shifter, so will be there tonight.”

  “Stan the fae?” I blurted in disbelief, then blushed. Not that there was anything wrong with being named Stanley, but it wasn’t a fae name by even a generous stretch.

  Abby giggled.

  John snickered, “Adopted name, I’m not entirely sure I understand it. The fae have a lot of secrets they don’t share, but when he was separated from his people he was stripped of his real name. Just stick by me and try not to antagonize anyone. The ones to watch out for are Adele and her three, but none of them should be trusted with your back.”

  Don’t have to tell me twice.

  “I’ll be good. But I’m nervous, that’s all three of you that have warned me about tonight.”

  John shrugged, “The other groups tend to push the newbies to the area. Not all of them are assholes, but they’ll try to get you to lose your temper and attack. Don’t give Adele a reason to turn her eyes your way.”

  “Got it, I’ll behave, violence is always my last option anyway.”

  Talk about a trial by fire.

  It felt a bit cliché as we pulled into a large parking lot in front of a warehouse by the docks. The outside of it was faded red brick and dirty windows up high on the building. I spied a few people going into the doors wearing suits and dresses, and I wondered just what I was getting myself into.

  Inside the building was a different story. The inside was furnished and finished like an arena of sorts. There was a round caged pit in the center of the floor surrounded by rising sections that circled the pit. The bottom section was five rows of seats, above that on one side was a small seating box with nothing around it, which was where Abby headed alone.

  It was also my first glimpse at the other leaders, which John pointed out to me. Adele was about forty, and five foot four with a lithe frame. She had light blonde hair and blue eyes, and she wore a fire engine red slinky dress. I hadn’t needed John’s input, I could feel her fire magic, but better even my own group never know about that ability of mine.

  Sally was even shorter at five foot two, and she had an average hourglass body in proportion. The water mage was wearing a light blue blouse and black skirt, with white high heels.

 
Stan looked to be about thirty, which was very old for a fae, and stood at about five foot eleven, with brown hair and eyes. He was wiry, and extremely attractive around the face, which was thin with sharply pointed ears.

  Gabe looked to be about twenty-four, but I knew he was ancient from the aura rolling off of him. He was six foot one, medium of build, with black hair and brown eyes. He looked sharp, and emotionless.

  John and I were on the second tier as well, on the other side, which was a small walkway which went around three quarters of the circle and had booths that faced inward to the cage below so we could see the match as well. Besides me selling potions, there was also drink and food booths, and I wouldn’t be surprised if drugs were available as well. Lastly, there were four betting booths, all running independent odds with a list of the fights that night.

  Vic would be fighting Jason that night. Jason being Adele’s fae-wolf shifter. Vic had disappeared into the back of the place, off the arena, presumably to get ready for his fight.

  I’d barely started unloading a potion of each kind offered from my bag to display, when a sumptuous redhead with green eyes stalked up to the booth in an eerily hunting grace. She was tiger shifter, so I assumed it was Cerise, who worked for Adele. Tiger shifters were rare, I doubted there was more than one in the area. She was gorgeous, and I braced myself for whatever she had in mind, since Abby had told me she was sadistic and crazy. Well, all of Adele’s crew was, including herself, and I tried not to worry about Vic’s fight with Jason either.

  John nodded tightly, “Cerise, this is our new brewer, Kyra.”

  Cerise looked me over like a side of hanging beef that she wanted to get her teeth into, and I wasn’t using inuendo, literally wanted to sink her teeth into me.

  I held her eyes for two seconds, before nodding and lowering my eyes as I continued to unload potions.