Hunted Witch Agency Box Set Books 1-3 (Hunted Witch Agency Set)

by Rachel Medhurst

  “Is that all in one night?”

  His deep rumbling voice tickled my neck unlike anything I had experienced before. His scent filtered up my nose, too strong considering the distance between us. Wait… Was I feeling what Kingsley was feeling?

  “Yes, all in one night. I suppose we’d better get on with it. I’ve been bored for two days, so a fight will do me good.” I wasn’t really paying attention to my words as I held my hand out for my pet rat.

  We were more in tune than most humans and their animals, especially if I could feel the heat of Gerard’s neck above my head as Kingsley snoozed there.

  “I didn’t mean that,” I corrected when Gerard tilted his head to the side so I could take my rat. “I don’t want to fight them.”

  It was the truth, I wasn’t looking for a fight with the warlocks. Especially since the witch and shapeshifter had shown me that we had enough enemies already. My main priority was to stop the witches from threatening the warlocks. Although, they might not see it that way.

  My memory flashed back to the day of the attack. All sorts of ideas about my witch magic had been going through my head, but I couldn’t think of a good explanation as to why I was struggling with it. I hadn’t even dared to try and use it since. The idea of it not working scared me too much. Maybe it was stress that was causing the temporary glitch.

  “We need to get going,” I muttered as I cradled Kingsley in my hand before putting him back in the cage.

  Gerard moved behind me, putting his jacket on. Something about the moment made me feel vulnerable. I had opened up to him about my past, but I knew nothing about him at all.

  Turning, I caught him staring at the framed spell again. “Do you have a grimoire?” I asked.

  His eyes were vacant, as if he were thinking of another time and place. “Not anymore, no.”

  Before I could ask anything else, he shook himself and marched to the door, yanking it open and disappearing. Okay then, my probing about his grimoire was a sensitive subject. But, jeez, I had just spilled my past out to him, what made him think he could keep everything about himself from me?

  Scooping up my jacket and bag, I rushed out of the apartment, shouting a farewell to my only friend. My footsteps were loud on the stairs as I took them two at a time. Gerard was already out of the front door by the time I’d reached the bottom.

  “Wait up,” I shouted as the door closed behind him.

  Once outside, I slammed straight into his chest. He caught me, his arms holding my hips in an awkward grip. “Woah!” The air that escaped his lungs rushed over my face as he looked down. “Calm down.”

  My heartbeat played a little romantic tune in my chest. That heavy scent of manliness was causing all sorts of things to happen to my hormones. Boy, I needed to find myself a boyfriend to distract myself from him.

  “I can’t be bothered today,” Gerard muttered, grabbing my hand.

  Almost stumbling, I laughed when we landed outside the warlock shop. The crime scene was gone, the road fairly empty compared to the daytime rush. A few people walked the streets on their way to the pubs and clubs, but no one had spotted us appearing out of nowhere.

  “I’m so glad you did that,” I said. “At least I won’t get into trouble.”

  Justina and Kurt had taken our written statement of the events that had unfolded in the station. They had taken my dagger to try and get a DNA sample of the shapeshifter. The bugger must have been clean his whole life because nothing had come up in the database.

  “I’m assuming this is where someone from the warlock community will be.” Gerard banged on the front door of the shop.

  My stomach rolled at the idea of going in there. It had been the scene of my extremely bad indiscretion. Not only had I killed the leader of the warlocks, I had blown up his shop.

  “Devon,” a voice said behind me. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

  Licking my lips, I turned to Kalic. The vampire was an associate of mine. One that had been there that day.

  “How are you?” I asked him, ignoring Gerard when he coughed.

  If I told Kalic that I was now working for the Hunted Witch Agency, he might have something to say on the matter. And, I wasn’t interested in hearing anything he had to say about my life. He had tried to keep in touch since he had helped me get rid of the Dark Crawler. Yes, it had been pulled out of me successfully. But, I hadn’t been interested in being best buddies with a vampire.

  “How’s Antonia?” I asked after his wife.

  They were both from Bulgaria, their lives stretching across many centuries as they ran from those who would hunt them.

  Kalic blinked his blue eyes. The paleness of his skin wasn’t only a testament to his vampireism, but to his heritage, too. He wore jeans and a leather jacket, the norm for many supernatural males.

  “She’s well. You should come and pay her a visit sometime.”

  Their chocolate shop was just down the road, which was probably the reason I had run into Kalic in the first place. Antonia had always had a passion for chocolate. I did wonder at the way they enticed people into their shop. Was it a way for them to find their blood source?

  Shrugging, I dismissed my thoughts as Gerard shuffled beside me. I wasn’t interested in what the other creatures got up too, although…

  “Kalic, this is Gerard.” I introduced them quickly. “We’re actually interested in finding a shapeshifter. Do you have any contacts?”

  If my memory served me right, Kalic was pretty well connected with all of the underground groups. If I could persuade him to look out for our shapeshifter, it might be easier to find him.

  “I have a few, yes. Why should I help you, though?”

  Gerard held back a snort, earning himself a glare from me. If I let them talk, they would probably become best pals and bitch about me all day.

  “We’re…”

  The door to the warlock shop opened, making me jump. The others were on guard, their gaze narrowed on the warlock who stood there. Maxwell Maddocks. Great.

  “What do you want?” he barked.

  Kalic held up his hands when I glanced at him. “Text me the info. I’ll see what I can do.”

  He was gone before I could answer, but a small smile crossed my lips. His wife Antonia had been a friend to me in my time of need, he would help me for her.

  The great big warlock stared at Gerard, his eyes sparkling. “Who do we have here then?”

  Ah, okay… I had never questioned Maxwell’s sexuality, but Gerard could very well come in handy.

  “My name’s Gerard, I’m from the Hunted Witch Agency.” Flashing his card, Gerard stayed back as I stepped forward.

  “Let us in,” I said, trying to draw the warlock’s attention away from my partner. “We need to talk.”

  The tall tanned man stepped back to allow us to enter the shop. Isaac had obviously left it to him in his will. I had been sent a letter to tell me that my name had been down for the inheritance of the leadership. It also said that if I ever wanted to renounce the claim, I could hand it to Maxwell.

  The shop had been repaired, the same old trinkets and warlockery memorabilia on the shelves. My stomach literally churned as I spotted the counter where Isaac would always sit, a huge smile on his face.

  The flash of memory came into my mind. I had fought the Crawler hard. It had forced me to lift the gun, making me scream on the inside. The look on Isaac’s face still haunted me in my nightmares. He had looked disappointed. In me.

  “We’re here on business,” Gerard said as Maxwell settled where Isaac used to sit.

  His big frame and rotund stomach dwarfed the counter. He would never be the same as Isaac, yet, the other warlocks respected him.

  A noise at the back of the shop, where there was a little living area, made me glance at my partner. He had heard it too, the slight incline of his head telling me to be on guard. There were probably more warlocks in the building.

  “What business is that?” Maxwell turned serious, his gaze ra
king over me before he almost sneered in disgust. “The fact that you can even come back here after what you did. Crawler or no Crawler.”

  My hand clenched into a fist. Marching over, I smacked it against the counter, causing the items on it to clatter.

  “I’m here to warn you that you’re in danger. I’m no longer prepared to apologise for something I had no control over. Isaac Senior was my…”

  Letting the words trail off, I stared him in the eye. He cocked his head to the side, his generous chin almost touching his neck. “I believe you. It’s the only reason you’re still alive.”

  His deep voice made me shudder. So far, I hadn’t seen his good qualities. It was part of the reason I hadn’t just handed him the leadership instantly. I kind of felt a responsibility to Isaac and the coven. My father would have wanted me to lead. He was passionate about his kind, even though he had agreed to allow my mother to bring me up as a witch to keep me protected.

  “So,” Maxwell started, turning to face Gerard. “Please, tell me why I’m in danger.” His smile was warm as Gerard stepped forward.

  Tucking his hands in his pockets, Gerard assumed a non-threatening stance. Good move.

  “We’re investigating the kidnappings of many witches. They’ve been disappearing for years, but we’ve had quite a lucky lead recently. A witness claims that the witches involved in the slave ring want to destroy warlocks.”

  Maxwell tutted as he rolled his eyes. “They’ve got no chance. They can try, if they like.”

  His blasé attitude made me grit my teeth. If he wasn’t careful, I would be tempted to knock some sense into him. Would I ever actually like the too-big-for-his-boots man? Probably not.

  “Listen to us…” I snarled. “There is a real threat out there, and although we’re trying to get to the bottom of it, we cannot guarantee that you’ll be safe. You have to take precautions to protect yourself.”

  The man put his puffy fingers on the countertop, his weight making the flimsy stool creak as he leant forward. “How do I know you’re not the one who’s a threat?”

  Gerard stepped up, his hands now hanging by his side. “Why would we bother to warn you if we were the danger? Why do you warlocks have to be so arrogant?”

  His sharp words were bitten through his teeth. Wow, Gerard had a problem with warlocks by the sound of it. I hadn’t realised quite how much he disliked them.

  Maxwell stood up, the stool scraping on the stone floor. Wincing, I stayed where I was, not allowing him to intimidate me, even if he did tower above me.

  A sound by the door that led to the back alerted my senses. Someone was hiding on the other side, waiting for Maxwell to give his orders. What a surprise. Warlocks were predictable. They were the type of magical being who followed their leader. A leader who held a lot of influence over the others. It had never been the case in the past. Most warlocks were solitary people. They would practice magic on their own. But, as their numbers grew in size, they found that they had no choice but to band together in a coven, like much of the other underground creatures.

  “Well, Devon, you’re making it very clear where your loyalties lie, although I find it quite contradictory that you’re working with witches to hunt witches. If you can turn on your own people so easily, you can do the same to us.”

  “You are my people,” I snapped, raising my eyes when a sudden flash of light lit up the roof.

  Laughing, Maxwell lowered himself back onto the chair. “It’s okay,” he shouted. “You can come out.”

  The spell was a bright blue cloud of rain above our heads. If it was released, it would probably be acid. I watched the swirling of magic, tempted to pull my own out. Gerard grabbed my wrist when I went to raise it unconsciously.

  “Diplomacy,” he whispered.

  The door opened, revealing two men. Twins. Identical twins. They were tall, skinny, their pale skin almost transparent. I had heard of the warlock twins. Rumour had it that they were the most powerful warlocks in London. Their magic combined automatically, creating a superpower that many people couldn’t recreate.

  “I thought you were myth,” I said as they came in, their movements in sync.

  Even their footsteps were in time, their cool smiles coming to their face at the exact same moment. Creepy. As. Hell.

  “These are my secret weapon. They’re loyal to me, and always will be, so don’t even try to get to me.” Maxwell’s smile was just as eerie as the other two. Someone needed to intervene.

  Clearing my throat, I clenched my fists by my side in an effort to keep from lashing out at the weird trio. “I’m still leader of the coven, so you’ll listen to me. I’m telling you to safeguard every warlock in this city. If you don’t do it, you will be chucked out of London. Do you hear me?”

  The noise in Gerard’s throat almost made me laugh, but I managed to keep my cool. I’d had enough of being dictated to by the people who were meant to be listening to me. Okay, I hadn’t made a good impression. I’d ignored them instead of leading, but if I didn’t protect them now, when I knew they were in danger, I would be dishonouring my father’s memory.

  “Who do you think you are?!” Maxwell’s voice boomed.

  Flicking my wrists, I brought magic into my hands and slammed them on the counter. The vibration of my power thundered through the piece of furniture, cracking apart everything on it. Leaning over when Maxwell cowered back, I stared at him. “I am Devon Jinx, heir to the London coven. I’m the leader of the warlock coven. And, yes, I’m also a witch. You, however, have no right to pretend to be Isaac’s heir. You will listen to me, or you will leave…for good.”

  Sparks of blue magic flew from my eyes, dispersing in the distance between us. My skin tingled from unspent energy that buzzed through me. I kept eye contact as the man sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. The twins stood nearby, not looking that bothered that I was threatening their friend.

  “Okay,” Maxwell finally spoke. “I will send out a warning to the coven to tell them to be on guard. But, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head. The witches have nothing on us.”

  A hand wrapped around my wrist, pulling me away from the warlock. Gerard let go of me as soon as I glared at him. How dare he interrupt me?

  “You should be careful,” Gerard said to Maxwell. “It’s dangerous to have such a dismissive opinion of witches.”

  Cringing, I tried my hardest not to roll my eyes. The last thing we needed in that moment was defence of the witches. Gerard might be one himself, but he wasn’t exactly helping the situation by implying that they should be scared of us.

  “You seem like a man who’s not exactly on our side, considering you’re here to ‘help’ us.” Maxwell’s inverted comma gesture confirmed exactly what impression he might have of my partner.

  The usual rivalry between the covens was to be expected. Two types of magical beings, one city. There was a lot of different views and opinions on how we should all live under the radar.

  “We’re going to leave,” I interrupted before anyone said anything else. “I trust that you’ll stick to your word.”

  Maxwell inclined his head, waving the twins back when they stepped forward. Were they a threat? Or, were they just making sure that we were aware of their existence?

  Taking Gerard’s arm, I tugged him. He shook me off, following as I opened the front door. My back was straight as I waited for him to go through before me.

  “Devon,” Maxwell called softly.

  Pausing, I looked over my shoulder, waiting to hear what he had to say.

  “By telling us about this threat, you’ve just started something that cannot be stopped.”

  Frowning, I took a deep breath. “And, what’s that?”

  His gaze traced the length of me, his eyes flicking with lightning bolts. Ah, I had learnt the same trick from Isaac too. It was a sign that he was holding back his anger, his magic. He was riled, rightly so.

  My skin erupted in goose bumps when he stood, his arms by his side. The look on his fa
ce was calm, too calm.

  “Devon Jinx,” he said strongly, his voice carrying to me. “The witches have declared war on the warlocks. Which means we accept their invitation to combat. You, on the other hand… You will need to choose a side. You can’t have it both ways. What will you be? A witch, or a warlock?”

  Chapter Nine

  The lights of the hallway flickered as I entered the underground club. When the smell of sweaty humans hit my nose, I almost backtracked the way I had come. Butterflies jiggled in my stomach, making me feel nauseous.

  Two days ago, Maxwell had not only declared war on the witches, he had demanded that I had to choose which side I wanted to be on. How could I not be on both? Firstly, I was a half-breed, even if I had believed that I was a witch until I was ten. Secondly, I was an agent at the Hunted Witch Agency now. I had to be unbiased in my job.

  The thump of music filtered through the entrance. I missed clubs. In the days before I had killed Isaac, and before I was a target, I had often enjoyed nights out, getting wasted, and losing myself to the sway of my body.

  “You’ve got a real cheek showing your face here,” someone said as I was about to push through into the main dance area.

  Looking behind me, I froze when my gaze landed on Jeremy. He was my coven leader’s right hand man. Someone I had pissed off. Many times.

  The older man was stout with brown hair and dark eyes. His cheeks were red and blotchy, a sign of his middling years.

  “Ah, Jeremy. I’m here to see Theresa.”

  My witch coven leader. She had been in charge since I was a baby. The friendship between her and my mother had been the strongest I had ever seen. Yet, when my parents had disappeared, instead of stepping up to help me, she had shunned me. When news got out about my mixed heritage, one by one, every person who had been a family friend lost contact. Just like that.

  My palms moistened when I recalled the day that Theresa had begrudgingly declared me part of the coven still, in front of the other witches. They had hissed in my direction, frustrated that their leader had stayed true to her friend in one way. By being part of her coven, I was safe from outsiders who would want to kidnap me for their own gain.