Storm Witch (Wolf Ridge Chaos Witch Book 1)

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Storm Witch (Wolf Ridge Chaos Witch Book 1) Page 4

by Jayne Hawke


  “It took a long time to remove the traces of your mess last night. We had to cast a number of glamours and memory spells to deal with the humans that wandered by.”

  I gave him a feral smile.

  “Don’t even think about increasing your cut from my next job.”

  His smile matched my own.

  “I wouldn’t even think about it.”

  I leaned forward, feeling my stomach twist as I knew how badly I needed him and his bar. Or, more truthfully, the job board here.

  “You need me. You know as well as I do you can’t replace me.”

  I was very good at what I did, but the fact remained that any upstart could fill my shoes. When I had my magic back, that would be a different story, but I was in a weak position and I knew it. So, I did the only thing I could. I faked confidence and pushed.

  “And why would I want to replace my most charming merc?”

  Now I knew I was in trouble. Ben was always telling me to watch my mouth, and he never complimented his mercs.

  I lounged back in my chair, feigning disinterest. He was playing a game, and I didn’t understand the rules yet. I wasn’t going to be pulled into something I didn’t have all the details on.

  “You have, however, been a problem in the past. Liza still hasn’t forgiven me for the offense you caused her...”

  Liza was the head of a particularly difficult Hecate coven. They had a lot of powerful business connections; Hecate must have thought highly of them. As a goddess of magic, she had the potential to make witches that could reign over those around them with ease. She was, however, a fickle and difficult goddess to please from what I understood. Still, if you had any sense you treated the Hecate witches with caution and respect.

  I’d never been all that good at keeping my mouth shut or playing by the rules. Liza had made a snide comment about my breeding, and I accidentally caused irreparable damage to her Lamborghini. It was a real tragedy.

  “And the only reason you haven’t been chased out of the state by the bear shifters is because your guardian friend sweet talked them and pulled rank.”

  Rosalyn had been a godsend helping out with the touchy bears. In my defence, they had been toying with humans, which is a huge no-no for supernaturals. We have to keep our world and existence hidden. They were in their bear forms when they did it, but the Morrigan had wanted me to put them in their place. I’d assumed she meant beat them around the head and make them submit. Apparently she meant give them a firm talking to.

  The beta bear still bore a scar over his right eye thanks to me. It’s really hard to scar a shifter, but I did it. I was prouder than I should have been about that little fact.

  “Like I said, you’re not taking a higher cut from my next job,” I said firmly.

  Ben pulled an envelope out of the top drawer of his desk and threw it at me. I opened it and found it full of cash. There was enough there for two months’ rent, easily.

  “What’s the catch?” I asked.

  “You know I look after my mercs.”

  ‘Look after’ was a generous term. He’d hunt down anyone who hurt us if he felt doing so would be good for business. If we did something that might upset his business, we were out on our own.

  “I know you’re full of crap and should get to the point,” I said.

  “A very wealthy client chose you specifically for this job. That’s your cut of the deposit.”

  My stomach twisted. That sounded like a set up. I was betting that it was a fae of some form that I’d irritated in the past and this was their chance to put me in a shallow grave.

  Ben pushed the contract over to me. I skimmed past the boring legalese at the top, looking for the client name.

  It wasn’t a fae. It was worse.

  Gideon Shepherd.

  12

  I felt the war drums against my skin from the hallway. No witch was supposed to be powerful enough to project their magic that strongly. A polite knock came from the door.

  “Come in, Mr. Shepherd,” Ben called out.

  I settled myself deeper into the armchair, refusing to show how much this had rattled me. First he showed up at my home, which he shouldn’t have known about. Now he was hiring me to do some merc job. I was already bound to the guy, and a large part of me was increasingly happy about that. A quiet voice reminded me that the gods thought we were literally made for each other. A much louder voice said not to trust someone with that much magic.

  Gideon came into the room and stood next to the armchair, his hip about level with my head. His pose was casual with his hands tucked in the pockets of his slate-grey suit. He’d changed since I’d last seen him. The war drums pressing against my skin told a very different story from the mild expression on his face.

  “Miss Hackett just needs to sign the paperwork and then she’s all yours,” Ben said.

  I bristled at that. Even when we were married, I wouldn’t belong to Gideon.

  The war witch looked down at me expectantly.

  “Is there a problem, Sky?”

  I picked up the contract and read over the details. It looked as though solitary witches like me had been disappearing for a few months, and Gideon felt it was time to look into it. I tried to be surprised that it had taken this long for someone to care about solitary witches, but I couldn’t muster it. Solitary witches were looked down upon and distrusted. It was felt that dealing with the gods directly and solo was dangerous and opened us up to being used as avatars. The gods were often looking for an opportunity to ride a human suit around the Earth plane, and some were more prone to it than others.

  “No, we’re good,” I said as I held my hand out for Ben’s pen.

  The fee Gideon was paying for this would set me up for a good six months, and that was after Ben took his percent.

  Witches were businesspeople. Much like shifters, they held territories, and the entire coven was expected to learn and help with the businesses. The Morrigan coven had kept me out of that, which looking back should have started alarm bells. I knew nothing about business, and now I needed to start one if I wanted to survive. Being a merc was all very well and good, but if I was injured I wouldn’t be able to earn. There were healers, of course, but they had limits.

  I signed the contract and tossed it back to Ben, I stood up and gave him a sharp smile.

  “Try to be good while I’m gone.”

  I turned away before I could see the savage expression that I knew formed on Ben’s face. It took a lot of effort to keep the smirk off my own face.

  Gideon walked slightly ahead of me and opened the door, revealing Bea in the hallway along with four other mercs. The group of three fae part-breeds began talking about some sport while looking at us. Bea made no attempt to hide the fact she was waiting for us and wanted to know everything.

  “Tell all,” she commanded.

  I raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly between her and Gideon.

  “We’re supposed to be discreet with clients,” I hissed.

  “Since when have you cared what we’re supposed to be?” Bea asked as she held her hand out to Gideon. “Bea, and you are?”

  “Engaged,” Gideon said stiffly.

  Bea sighed and crossed her arms.

  “What’s the job?”

  “Sky, shall we?” Gideon asked as he gestured down the hallway.

  His war drums were reaching a crescendo while his expression remained blank. He was good.

  “Sure. I assume you have an office or something where we can discuss details.”

  “I hope it has a good sturdy desk!” Bea said with a wink.

  I rolled my eyes and refused to look at Gideon. It wasn’t a bad image.

  We walked down through the bar, where everyone paused to whisper and watch. I walked with my head high, doing my best to ignore it. It wasn’t that unusual for rich people to hire out a specific merc for a high paying job, and it wasn’t that ridiculous that someone might have picked me. I ground my teeth at how far I’d fallen.

&n
bsp; Gideon put his hand on my lower back and led me to his black Dodge Viper. I slipped down into the low-slung soft leather seats and waited for him to turn on the powerful engine before I spoke.

  “Why me?”

  “Because you’re the best.”

  “I don’t have any magic.”

  “Your record shows that hasn’t slowed you any.”

  I looked over at him, studying him. He drove with confidence and respect for those around him. His tone had been flat and matter of fact, but I couldn’t help but feel that I was missing something.

  “Why now?”

  “Why now what?”

  “Why did you come into my life now?”

  He looked over at me.

  “Because Mars knows you’re the best chance we have of saving these witches.”

  ‘You’re two halves of a whole, anyone can see that,’ Set unhelpfully whispered.

  “How long have they been disappearing, and why haven’t you done anything yet?”

  His magic wrapped around me and thundered in my ears. He pressed play on his playlist and Sam Tinnesz started playing. I’d expected classical from someone dressed like him.

  “I have been looking into it for three months, but other things kept calling me away. Mars felt now was the time to act.”

  I wrinkled my nose and looked away. The frustration in his tone was a familiar one. Sometimes you had no choice but to wait for your god to give your permission. You were supposed to trust them implicitly and understand they knew more than you ever could, but that just wasn’t my nature.

  13

  We made our way across town to the very fancy area where the richest tourists and businesses hung out. I looked down at my holey jeans and scuffed boots, feeling self-conscious. The people walking down the sidewalk wore high-end designer stuff with silk, stilettos, and purses that cost enough to make my jaw drop. Wolf Ridge wasn’t a very big town, but it was close enough to the ski slopes that some of the richest people liked to get away from it all there sometimes.

  Gideon turned down a road taking us away from the luxury hotels and boutiques to the business district. A large square building made of glass and steel dominated the horizon. It stretched up five stories and glinted in the setting sun, demanding that everyone look at it. That was the Warrior Security headquarters; they were one of the biggest witch-run businesses in the North.

  I hadn’t managed to find out which coven owned it. That information was buried deep, which made the witches all gossip and speculate. It was assumed they must be Hecate witches to have that much power and business acumen. The local Hecate coven was in fashion, though, and owned most of the top boutiques in the state. Security was traditionally a business for the more war- and protection-minded witches.

  Gideon pulled into the car park for Warrior Security, and I looked between him and the building before us.

  A smirk slipped across his lips as he watched my reaction. My jaw almost dropped as I realised just how powerful and business-minded the man across from me was. He was one of the wealthiest witches in the country. If anyone knew who he was, they’d take out hits so they could marry him and stake a claim on his coven.

  It wouldn’t have been the first time witches took hits out on someone to bring a particularly talented witch into their bloodline. Powerful blood meant a lot in witch circles, and there were plenty of covens who’d do whatever it took to increase the magic within their lines.

  “You own Warrior Security?”

  “I started building it when I was eighteen. I made it what it is today with thanks to my coven. There aren’t many of us, but they’re all very good at what they do.”

  With that, he got out of the car, and I was left with no choice but to follow him. He strolled down the pale grey pathway to the large glass door with confidence that came with familiarity, and the fact he literally owned the place. Delicate white and purple flowers filled the broad flower beds on either side of the path. They added a softness to the hard clear edges of the place. I wondered who had planted them. It didn’t strike me as a Mars thing.

  Inside, muscular people in black uniforms with blood red and copper touches on the lapels glanced over at us before returning to paperwork, tablets, and conversations. The space was more glass and steel with carefully placed modern art. Each piece somehow spoke of war. It was something about the thin slices of red against the harsh black strokes and the vibrant yellow splashes within the deep mesh of greys. I knew nothing about art, but I could practically taste the battlefield in this space.

  I followed Gideon into a copper elevator, and he pressed the button for the top floor. Where else would the boss have his office?

  “I ordered Indian.”

  “What if I hate Indian?”

  “Do you?”

  I loved Indian food. If I was being honest, I loved food in general and hated that I couldn’t cook.

  He looked at me with a challenge in his eye as he watched my expression.

  “No.”

  He smiled.

  “Good. I trust you made good use of the room service in the hotel.”

  “I was holding back, but now I know who you are, I’ll have to make the most of the luxury while I have it.”

  “You’ll have plenty of luxury when you join me in the coven house,” he said casually.

  I looked away.

  Of course, I wouldn’t have much of a choice as his wife. People would gossip if we lived separately. Even those pairings that married for political purposes and used outside sources for children lived together.

  “You’ll have plenty of space. I’m not a monster, I won’t force you to share my room.”

  There was a protective gruffness to him. He was offended at the idea that he might hurt me in some way.

  “As long as there’s no pink, I’m sure we’ll be good,” I said brightly.

  He relaxed, and the tension dissipated.

  We walked out of the elevator through an open space with large desks scattered throughout the huge room. Floor-to-ceiling windows formed the three walls on either side and behind me. Everyone was dressed in beautifully tailored suits with expensive haircuts and perfectly applied make-up. I walked through there in my scruffy jeans and t-shirt like a scruffy mutt Gideon picked up off the street.

  “The food’s on your desk, sir,” a perfectly manicured brunette said.

  Gideon nodded and opened the copper door in the only opaque wall I’d seen so far. We walked into his office, which was easily twice the size of my entire apartment. It was oddly homey. After all of the glass and steel, I’d expected something painfully sparse and devoid of emotion.

  A triptych of dramatic (what I thought were) Scottish landscapes drew my eye. I turned to look at them more closely where they sat against the soft heather-grey wall to my left. Sharp rocky mountains burst forth from the rolling heather-covered plains before them. Flashes of brilliant yellow scattered around the edges. In the third painting, the sun was setting just behind the mountains, adding a soft pink blush that shimmered along the thin winding stream that drew my eye along the centre of the painting.

  “The Highlands were my favourite part of Scotland. I spent as much time wandering the mountains and the harsh landscape as I could while I lived there. I left a part of myself between those rocks.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at his soft admission.

  The rest of the space was surprisingly soft and comfortable. Dark hardwood covered the floor, but sumptuous red and cerulean rugs were scattered throughout adding warmth and colour. A large soft couch leaned against the far right wall angled to give a view over the town, where the sun set making the forest look as though it were on fire. The turning leaves glowed every shade of inferno from rich umber to flickering golds.

  Gideon settled himself down on the garnet couch and began pulling the food containers out of the bag and placing them on the low-slung dark wooden table before him. I took the hint and sat down near him while breathing in the rich scents of the Indian food.r />
  Maybe marrying him wouldn’t be so bad.

  14

  I stole Gideon’s jalfrezi and handed him my korma. I preferred my Indian food to be a little spicy. He took it with good grace, although he glared at me when I tried to take the last poppadum. I grinned at him and fluttered my eyelashes only to have him move lightning fast and steal it away. He grinned at me as he bit into it.

  He was surprisingly easy to be around. I expected him to be an uptight ass, what with his position in the witch world and everything that brought with it.

  “Tell me how you keep it a secret that you own this place,” I said, leaning back on the couch feeling stuffed.

  “A lot of old complicated magic that keeps the information hidden. I did it for you. I knew that building an empire like this would put you at risk.”

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. There he was, thinking about me, worrying about assassins, whereas I’d been dreading our wedding. He was a complete stranger that the gods had bound me to without my getting any input.

  The fact we were god bound wouldn’t have stopped the more determined covens. There was a pretty good chance I’d have hits put out on me once we were married, too.

  Gideon tidied away the containers into their box before he picked up the thick folder full of papers.

  “This is what we’ve managed to gather on the solitary witches so far.”

  I opened the folder and braced myself. Those witches were like me.

  The first paper showed a gruesome corpse that had been twisted far beyond a human body’s limits and desiccated. The dark skin looked like aged leather; empty sockets stared at me from the skull. Thin strands of white hair lay around the scalp like the halo of an angel.

  “What happened to her?” I asked.

  “We’re not sure. There were traces of magic we haven’t been able to identify on her. We believe she was once a ‘Bethany Meldon.’ She was a solitary Coyote witch that had wandered into the area a couple of weeks before she disappeared. Her sister reported her as missing, and we found this six weeks later. There were no sightings, nothing. No one has any idea where she went or why.”

 

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