Shadow Hunted: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Shadows of Salem Book 3)

by Jasmine Walt

  I wasn’t sure if I believed Darcia—the slightest bit of tension had entered her voice when she’d been talking about the lack of power sources, and I had a feeling she wasn’t above capturing a fae if she was desperate enough. But I didn’t press the matter, and we finished the rest of our lunch in peace.

  After lunch, I spent the rest of the afternoon in my room, bored out of my mind. Darcia had business to attend to, and since I was a fugitive, I couldn’t leave. The “cops” who’d brought me here had recognized me despite the red wig, so chances were the real police would spot me unless I put on some heavy makeup and snagged some colored contacts. And I’d already learned the hard way that using glamour was a waste of energy that I definitely couldn’t afford now.

  Thankfully, it didn’t take long for evening to come around. Around six o’clock, I emerged from my bedroom in a black cocktail dress I’d found in my closet, ready to meet the witches. Darcia had told me we’d be gathering in the dining room— the farmhouse table was long enough to seat ten, and extra chairs were brought in and set up for another twelve or so coven members, but that still left more than half the members standing.

  The rest of the coven was already assembled when I came down. I lifted my chin and did my best not to show my nerves as twenty-two pairs of eyes followed me into the room, ranging from curiosity to suspicion to open hostility. Three quarters of the members were female, and the two Canadian warlocks Maddock and I had run into were not present. Guess someone had to stay with the barrier.

  I seated myself next to Thelia, watching as Darcia called the coven to order. She went over the agenda for the evening, then gestured for me to stand.

  “My fellow witches and warlocks,” she said, smiling broadly, “I would like to present to you Brooke Chandler, our newest probationary member. As most of you know, she is a shadow, and will be a great asset to the community. Please welcome her.”

  The announcement was met with scattered applause, and I immediately sensed that several members here were not pleased with the announcement.

  “Mistress Darcia,” a witch with long, golden hair said from the other side of the room, “don’t you think you should have called a meeting to vote on Miss Chandler’s induction? We have always done that before accepting a member into the group.”

  “That may be so, Aria, but I do have the right to bring in new members,” Darcia said, somehow managing to look down her nose at Aria even though the two women were on opposite ends of the room.

  “I agree with Aria,” a burly warlock interjected. “We should have been informed of this decision beforehand. She’s been working with that fae bastard, Maddock Tremaine. How do we know we can trust her?”

  “Isn’t she a witch killer?” another member piped up, and soon, the entire room was voicing their objections, save the witches I’d met the other night. They simply sat there stone-faced, but I noticed Carina, the auburn-haired witch, was watching the exchange with bright eyes. Could it be that she agreed with the others?

  “Silence!” Darcia shouted, her voice echoing throughout the room. Power crackled in the air, saturating every spare molecule in the room, and the crowd fell silent. “This is not up for debate. These are troubled times, now that our power sources are drying up, and Brooke’s abilities could be the difference between staying here in Marblehead, or picking up and moving to a different state. Is that what you want?” she demanded. “To uproot your lives, and hundreds of years’ worth of memories?”

  A few of the coven members muttered a little, but nobody spoke up again.

  “Excellent,” Darcia said, her voice cooling. “Now if there are no other objections, let’s get down to business.”

  Since I was only a probationary coven member, Darcia sent me up to my room after the first half of the meeting so the coven could discuss what she deemed as “confidential matters.” I assumed that meant they were going to discuss their efforts to find the channel, and that Darcia would use the opportunity to again stress my importance.

  Although staying would have likely been educational, I was happy enough to get back to my room. I hadn’t particularly enjoyed the veiled hostility coming from some of the members, and to be honest, most of the meeting was boring stuff that wasn’t relevant to me as a new member. The only thing that made it exciting was watching the way the different members interacted, and it was obvious that the same ones who’d spoken out against me were dissatisfied with Darcia in general.

  Closing the door behind me, I blew on my whistle and summoned Darun. The whistle was soundless, but my forearms tingled with magic, and he appeared instantly, his body tensed, already in attack mode.

  “What is it?” he demanded, looking around. “Where is the danger?”

  “There isn’t any.” I patted his head on my way to the bed, then kicked off my shoes and flopped onto the mattress. “At least not yet.”

  “Oh.” Darun tilted his head, looking both confused and annoyed. “Then why did you summon me?”

  “Because I’m feeling a little uneasy. Some of the coven members around here definitely don’t like me.”

  I gave Darun a rundown of the day’s events, from what I’d learned from Darcia during our lessons, to the coven meeting and the witches’ reactions to me. At some point during the conversation, he jumped onto the bed next to me, and I pressed my cheek against his thick, soft fur. His presence was reassuring, his heartbeat a comforting thump beneath my ear.

  “It sounds as if not all of Darcia’s coven members respect her fully,” Darun said once I was finished. “I would not be surprised if one of them was angling to take over her position.”

  “I don’t know if any one of them is strong enough to,” I told him. “They may not agree with her, but there is no question about her rank. She is way more powerful than any of them.”

  “Perhaps, but witches are sly and crafty creatures,” Darun said. “It is not like the pack, where a single wolf challenges the alpha for his position. I would not be surprised if several of them joined forces against Darcia at some point. She needs to assert her dominance and get her coven under control.”

  “I didn’t realize you cared so much about the health of the coven,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

  “I don’t,” Darun said, burrowing into the duvet, “but I do care about your safety, and if Darcia can’t get her bitches in line, that increases the chances of one of them coming after you.”

  Good point, I thought as I settled down to sleep. And all the more reason to have Darun with me tonight.

  I highly doubted Darcia would come creeping in on me, and if she did, I’d just have to invent an excuse for Darun’s presence. As I snuggled with him in the bed, it occurred to me that I’d never had a friend who’d made me feel so comfortable and safe. We hadn’t known each other very long, but Darun had become a companion, and during those few days we’d been separated, I’d missed him. Somehow, he fit into one of the jagged spaces left behind by Tom’s betrayal, and I didn’t want to let him go.

  He’s also pretty damn good looking in his fae form, an insidious voice whispered inside my head. Hot and loyal is a pretty stellar combination. You should go for it.

  I frowned, then shook off the thought and closed my eyes. I was clearly overtired if my brain was entertaining the thought of a relationship at a time like this. I needed to focus on the issue at hand, not my love life—or lack thereof. Besides, I didn’t actually have the hots for Darun. And what the hell did that say about me—that my body wanted a jerk like Maddock, but not the steadfast and loyal fae in the bed next to me?

  Yeah, you’re definitely in no condition to think about relationships, I told myself.

  And with that, I finally fell asleep.

  The sound of something crashing to the ground woke me from a sound sleep. Heart hammering, I bolted upright, instinctively reaching for the gun on my bedside table.

  Except there was no gun on my bedside table. The gun was at Maddock’s. And this wasn’t my bedside table, either. Shaking my he
ad, I tried to clear the fog from my brain and focus.

  Someone was growling. Darun. I turned my head toward the sound and froze at the sight of him pinning a man to the ground, his jaws clamped around the man’s neck with just enough pressure to dent the skin, but not pierce it.

  “G-get him off me!” the man cried, and I recognized his voice—he was the burly warlock who’d protested my presence. Magic glowed brightly around his hands—he must have been about to unleash it on me before Darun had attacked.

  “What the hell are you doing in my room?” I demanded, switching on the bedroom light as I glared at him. “Were you planning on killing me?” I gestured at his glowing hands. “And don’t lie. My friend would really hate that. And trust me, you don’t want to see him get angry.” I gave him a fierce grin.

  Darun growled, tightening his jaw a little. The man cried out as blood trickled down the sides of his neck. “Please, please don’t kill me!”

  “Shut up!” I hissed, kneeling on the ground beside him. I grabbed his arm and met his terrified gaze. “I’m going to tell my wolf to let you go now,” I said, very quietly. “If you even think about attacking me again, I will drain every last drop of power from you until you’re nothing but ash. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” I turned to Darun. “Let him go.”

  “Why?” He sounded as if the very idea was offensive. “He tried to kill you.”

  “Because it’s going to be hard to talk to him if your teeth are on his throat. And if he keeps screaming, he’s going to attract attention.”

  Darun growled, but he backed off—sort of. He released the warlock’s throat, but settled all his weight on the man’s chest, preventing him from getting up. The warlock let out a noise that was somewhere between a grunt and a sigh of relief, but it was cut short when I squeezed his arm tighter, forcing his attention back to me.

  “Are you acting alone, or are you teaming up with one of the other coven members?” I was curious as to whether Darun’s comments about the dissenters banding together held any weight. Was this guy working with Aria, or Carina? “How long have you been planning to overthrow Darcia?”

  “It’s not what you think,” the man choked out. “I’m not planning to take Darcia’s position, or helping someone overthrow her. I’m a DMC agent.”

  “A what?” I stared at him, dumbfounded.

  “You haven’t heard of us?” the man asked, sounding surprised. “The Department of Magical Control?”

  “I’m a little new to this witch thing,” I said, keeping my expression blank even as a bad feeling went through me. “Explain yourself.”

  “We’re an arm of the Witch Council,” the warlock said irritably. As he spoke, I suddenly remembered his name was Thomas. Or, at least, he’d said it was. “Tasked to make sure that the covens are following the Accords, and that abuses of power are strictly dealt with. Darcia brought you in here because she thinks you can help her find some magical channel that’s been sealed off. The Council is unwilling to put that much power into any single coven’s hands, including the Daire Coven. They’ve ordered me to block Darcia’s actions in any way possible until they’ve managed to locate the source and safely contain it.”

  “You mean keep it for themselves,” I scoffed. His eyes flashed, but he didn’t deny it. “And you thought killing me to keep Darcia from using me to find the channel was a good idea? You’re an idiot.”

  His rugged jaw stiffened. “I’m under orders.”

  “Yeah, well, you can take those orders and shove ‘em where the sun doesn’t shine. I’m not exactly a fan of witches—as somebody else pointed out. I did help kill off and imprison an entire coven of you. That said, hear me when I say this. I have no intention of allowing Darcia, nor any other coven, to access the channel and harvest the fae magic. My intention is to find the channel and destroy it. Permanently.”

  “The Council isn’t going to like that,” Thomas warned.

  “Well, the Council can kiss my ass. I’m not beholden to them, and if they know what’s good for them, they’ll find it in their best interest to close off the channel, too. If they end up siphoning the fae magic, Faerie will die, and then where will they get their power? It’s like killing the golden goose.” I shook my head. “You guys can’t really be that stupid, can you?”

  “How do you know so much about this?” the warlock demanded. He was doing his best to sound tough, but his dilated pupils, and the sweat running down the side of his temple, told me he was still scared shitless.

  “You ask way too many questions for someone at death’s door.” I squeezed his arm a little tighter, and he paled again. “I want you to swear on your magic that you will not threaten or oppose me in any way, and that you’ll keep your mouth shut about the channel until I’ve closed it off.”

  “I can’t deliberately hide information from my superiors—” he began, then choked when Darun leaned in and snapped his jaws, a mere millimeter from his chin. “All right, all right, all right! I’ll do it.”

  “Good man.” I held my palm out to Darun. “Mind doing the honors?”

  Darun gently bit the palm of my right hand, just hard enough to draw blood. He did the same to Thomas, but he bit harder, and more blood gushed from the warlock’s palm than mine. The two of us gripped hands, and I locked eyes with him.

  “Say it,” I demanded.

  “I, Thomas Franklin, swear on my power as a warlock that I will not oppose or threaten you, Brooke Chandler, in any way,” he growled.

  I raised my eyebrows. “And?”

  “And I will avoid reporting your activities to my superiors until you have effectively destroyed the magic,” he ground out, his jaw ticking.

  Magic flared from our joined hands, and I bit back a gasp as it stung my palm, sealing up the wound in an instant. Something latched onto my soul, like a hook at the end of a rope, and I knew we were both bound by the oath.

  “Excellent,” I said, releasing his hand with a smile. “Look forward to seeing you around, Thomas.” I opened the window. “Now get the hell out of here.”

  He was out of the window before I even finished my sentence. I locked up behind him, thinking I’d had enough uninvited guests for one night. Then again, would locking up really do any good in a house full of witches?

  Chapter 21

  The sound of my cell phone ringing woke me from a sound sleep. Grumbling, I buried my head beneath a pillow with the intention of ignoring it. But Darun growled, and I suddenly remembered it might be Maddock. Had he already returned? Adrenaline shot through me, and I grabbed the phone and answered it without looking.

  “Hello?”

  “Miss Chandler?” My lawyer’s voice drove the last vestiges of sleep from my brain. “Are you on your way?”

  “Fuck.” My stomach dropped—I’d completely forgotten about our appointment at the station. “I don’t think I can make it, Jesse. I’ve been…detained.”

  “Detained? What does that mean?” he demanded. “Have you already been arrested? Why didn’t you call me right away?”

  “No, no, I’m not in custody.” Keeping my voice low, I explained the situation to him as quickly and quietly as I could.

  “I don’t like this,” my lawyer said tightly when I was finished. “I think you should take your chances with the police and leave the witches out of it. They’ve already proven they can’t be trusted.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said shortly. I couldn’t explain to him the reason for going along with the witches’ demands, in case they really were listening in on my conversation. “There’s no way they’re going to agree to take me to the station, so we’ll either have to reschedule, or you’ll have to go without me.”

  “I will speak to them without you,” he said tersely. “We shouldn’t put this off too long. But it won’t look good—you not being there when I speak with them. They’ll definitely be redoubling their efforts to find you, Miss Chandler. Be careful.”

  I disconnected the call,
then rolled over to Darun. “That sounded fun,” he said, watching me out of half-lidded eyes.

  “Yeah, my life’s a party right now.” Disgusted, I turned my gaze to the ceiling. Why was it that things just kept getting worse and worse?

  “I do not see how he is going to be able to do much to defend you if you are not there with him,” Darun continued, oblivious I’d gone into sulk mode. “Your lack of a presence is going to make you look guilty.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” I scrubbed my hand over my face, suddenly exhausted again. I wanted to pull the covers over my head and block out the world. But Darcia would come looking for me eventually, and she would question me if she sensed I was hiding something. I had to pretend nothing was wrong.

  “My apologies, Princess,” Darun said, nuzzling my hand. “I did not mean to cause you further distress.”

  “It’s all right.” Smiling a little, I stroked Darun’s fur. Maddock would have never apologized for being insensitive. “Listen, you should probably go. I don’t need someone walking in here and seeing you, and if I don’t go down for breakfast soon, Darcia will probably come looking for me.”

  “Very well.” The bed creaked under Darun’s weight as he got to his feet—even shrunken down to ‘normal’ wolf size, he was still huge and very heavy. “Don’t do anything reckless.”

  He licked my face, then disappeared.

  I showered and dressed, then went downstairs in search of food It looked as though Darcia had already eaten, but the cook sat me in the breakfast nook and served me quiche Lorraine and a glass of orange juice. She informed me Darcia had left early to attend to something urgent, but had ordered her to make sure I was well-fed and ready for the day. Apparently, she was going to need me later for something important, and I hoped it was going into the woods to find the channel.

  An hour later, I was sitting in the living room, practicing the meditation exercise Darcia taught me, when someone knocked on the door. The exercise kept me calm and seemed to strengthen my abilities, but the moment I heard the sound, my concentration was shattered.