Small Town Witch: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Red Witch Chronicles 5)

by Sami Valentine

  Mouth dry, Red licked her lips and nodded. The bitter logic stung like a fire ant in her ear. Isaac enjoyed playing the town like a chess board, using his enemies as tools. Her anger didn’t dissipate, only festered, cornered like a caged dog.

  Zach stood with a grunt to go to the door, pausing at the knob. “He can’t connect Emma Peters to you.”

  Shoulders sagging, she rested her head in her hands and breathed deeply through her nose, trying to quell her inner battle. To be logical. Her only use was as backup and research. Rushing in with guns blazing was a stupid—if very satisfying—notion. She tried to sink into meditation to be clearheaded enough to scry for Isaac. It wasn’t the kind of witchcraft where brute force helped. Her emotions could add a punch to her power but scattered her focus. Tonight was proof of that.

  “So, are we starting with booze or are we binging first?” Callaway asked as she walked into the kitchen.

  “Both. I need to get a locator spell going.” Red reached for the wooden case and unfolded a map of the town to spread over the table.

  The sheriff poured wine for them both. “Vic told me everything. I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks,” Red said, ducking her head to avoid the pity on the other woman’s face.

  “Brownie mix. That’s what we need.” Aisha mumbled to herself before going to the pantry. She gave Red space as she bustled around the kitchen, whipping together fudge brownies.

  Red set up the locator spell as the dessert cooked. She centered herself as best she could, munching on granola bars as post-magic hunger hit her. Her mystical energy was off center, the sensation an awkward blend like uncomfortably twisted bra straps while ants walked on her skin. She scryed for Isaac with a pendulum over the map. Arranging and rearranging the crystals, she failed over and over. Her mental image of him was precise, but the pendulum wouldn’t obey her. The oven timer dinged as she slumped back in her chair, shaking from her effort. She was tapped like an empty keg.

  Callaway pushed a brownie at her. “Life sucks but at least there’s chocolate.”

  “And wine.” Red sipped at it before digging into her sweet treat morosely. Drink refilled, the two emptied the tray of brownies (with her eating the most) as they chatted about the case, reviewing the evidence.

  Callaway shared what she’d learned about the skeleton Lashawn had found at the summer camp. “At least ten years old. Probably from Alaric’s apocalypse. That’s a weird word.” She sipped, smiling at her glass. The cop was off the clock and drank like it.

  “Did you find anything about my mom at the station?”

  “A mention or two in an old file on Bonner and Sanchez.” Callaway clicked her tongue as she shook her head. “To have all that history and remember none of it. I don’t know if I envy you or not. Is coming home what you’d thought?”

  “Better in some ways, worse in others. It’s still sinking in that I have answers and a lot of them are good. When you don’t know yourself, it’s easy to assume the worst in yourself and everyone else,” Red said the insight casually, but it was hard won. Existential crises hit differently when you had amnesia. A normal person could unpack the root of their fears. She’d only had dark question marks for so long. “Emma was loved. That’s more than most get.”

  “It’s not easy when you do know yourself either. We’re a lot alike. Overthinkers, beating ourselves up more than the bad guys… Have you considered that we’re at least half decent?”

  Red shook her finger and intoned seriously. “We’re full decent, Aisha.”

  “I’ll drink to that.”

  They downed another glass around the kitchen table. The wine and food worked a kind of magic, perking Red up. She furrowed her brow. There was something she’d always wanted to ask yet never could bring herself to. “You got the vampire that killed your partner. Do you regret working with Cora to bring him down?”

  “Not that part. The rest… maybe. It’s not like she twisted my arm. I always go into the belly of the beast, thinking I can change it from the inside.” Callaway sighed, leaning her elbow on the table. “I know what you’re asking. Antonio Diaz was like a father to me, but it’s not the same.”

  “Was it worth it? Did you feel bet—I mean, something?” Red rolled her wrist as if the gesture would beckon the right words. “I’m not asking this right.”

  “I get it. Yes, I felt stuff. Not like I thought I would, but that one-eyed bastard isn’t on the streets anymore to hurt anyone else. That’s enough.”

  “Amen.” She raised her drink for a cheers.

  One bottle turned into another before they found themselves sitting cross-legged by Cocoa Puff’s cage. The sheriff made sure their glasses stayed full. Tossing a pellet at the hamster’s wiggly paws, Aisha Callaway hiccupped. “I’m not a wine drinker, you know.”

  “You’ll sleep here. Might as well have fun babysitting me.” Red took the role of leader as the soberest since the booze had only mellowed her out and the carbs had eased the shakiness from her limbs. The allure and the trouble with magic was that you sunk into that connection with the universe, the earth, the divine, whatever you called it, and stretched like your aura was askew. A mage needed to center themselves back to their bodies. The binge-fest helped take the edge off.

  “This is a part of protecting and serving. Not the drinking though.” Aisha laughed. It turned into a sad chuckle. She sipped the last of her wine. “I’m surprised Bonner trusted me. Maybe I’m warming on her. Lots of hunters stopped working with me when I joined Cora Moon.”

  “Girl, that’s history.” Red flapped her hand. “This is a fresh start.”

  The sheriff smiled, setting down her glass. “This is nice, you know. You’re having a shit time, but it’s been a bit like a girl’s night for me. Haven’t had too many of those. Ever.”

  “Complete with autopsy photos.”

  “The best kind of girls night.” Callaway hiccupped again, head wobbling. “Oh, I need to lie down somewhere that’s not a hamster cage.”

  “You’re not driving for sure. Lemme get you PJs.” She helped her friend stand. Nothing like a drunk person to make one feel clearheaded. She went upstairs to her bedroom and grabbed an old nightshirt. The other woman changed while she fetched water to set on the coffee table.

  Settling on the couch, Callaway nuzzled a pillow as Red tucked her in with blanket, a roaring tiger on the plush polyester. She sleepily reflected, “I don’t have many female friends. Never had.”

  “You’re awesome. What are you talking about?”

  “I think they find me intimating.” She yawned. “I just wanna make friends in this town.”

  “I’m your buddy.” Red started to reassure her when the snores started. Smiling at the sheriff, she turned off the lights in the living room before going to the kitchen to brew herself some chamomile tea.

  She didn’t keel over, trying the locator spell again, but it sapped her. Readying for bed in the guest room, she was a failure whose only use was staying out of the way, so her magic didn’t kill her friends.

  A phone buzzed on the bedstand with a text from Kristoff.

  Can we talk?

  Red read the message over and over, debating to herself, before she replied. She told Vic she’d only asked for Kristoff’s blood when it was an emergency. This had to count as one.

  --

  Kristoff strolled through the back gate, closing it before walking into the yard. In a dark gray suit, he blended into the shadows. Concern tinged the reserve on his handsome face as he approached the gazebo. When she’d first met him, he had seemed like an arrogant power player. The longer she knew him, the more she saw underneath the facade. How long had he worn it?

  Leaning against a pillar, she stepped to the ground and met him halfway. “You were honest with me today. I appreciate it.”

  He entwined their fingers. “You didn’t like it.”

  She shook her head, squeezing his hand. “Not everything, but with how my day went, that’s forever ago.”

  “Wh
at are you talking about?” He sniffed then chuckled. “Have you been drinking? Is this an unexpected booty call?”

  She barked out a high-pitched laugh. Covering her mouth, she wagged a finger at him. “No! It’s because I had a girls night. Like a sad one, though.”

  “Did you talk about me with the girlfriends?” He grinned. She wanted to muss up his neatly parted dark blond hair, a fresh precise fade on the sides.

  “We’re serious professional women who discussed murder over brownies.” The giggle broke her stern expression. Maybe she wasn’t exactly sober.

  “You’re adorable when you’re sloshed. Especially in these pajamas. Are these little cartoon sushi rolls?” Kristoff stroked her cheek. “What happened today?”

  Red leaned against his chest, giggles disappearing. “I used up my magic on the beach and then some. I assume Stace already sent word about Isaac, so you can guess why I was left behind.”

  “Isaac Gruber is alive?” Leaning back to look into her eyes, he tightened his jaw, expression growing dark. “No one told me. I could have sent a team out.” He pulled his phone out of his coat and started texting furiously.

  “They’re already out looking for him.” Red didn’t like the drop in communication between teams. Both sides needed to be working together on this. Isaac had set up distractions precisely to gum up any resistance, to turn them against each other. The guy has had years to scheme, and they were playing catch up. She’d never wanted these two worlds to mix, but she had to be the bridge. The job required it, whatever her feelings. She tried, with mixed results, to avoid rambles and tangents as she clued him in.

  “The little fae and her boyfriend won’t be enough for Isaac. I fought with that prick in the Last Bloodline War. He’s sly. Old school. He wouldn’t trust a plane, must have come in on the boat weeks ago. Long enough to rile up these villagers.”

  “Gavin was a deflection then?”

  “I walked into that one. Locals aren’t happy to see an innocent vampire ripped of his fangs. Or the other maimings.” Kristoff shook his head, worry crinkled between his brows. “I need to go.”

  “Isaac conjured the riftquake that killed my mom.”

  He embraced her, petting her hair. “And I’ll kill him for you. Stay here.”

  “Everyone keeps saying that!” Red turned from him. “I want to do it myself. I want to destroy him for everything he’s none. It’s why I didn’t put my mother’s ring back on. I can’t trust myself.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Is this what being a vampire is like?”

  “More like being human.”

  “Might as well be. I don’t even have the energy to scry.”

  “I can’t promise you’ll be flinging fire, but I can help.”

  Nibbling her lip, Red thought for a moment. It wasn’t about accepting the offer. She deliberated going into the house, but it wasn’t her home to invite a vampire into.

  “You don’t need a glass.” Blue eyes twinkling and a smirk unfurling on his face, he cut his neck with his thumbnail. He cupped her cheek, brushing his bloody fingertip against her lip. The slight touch sizzled, drawing every iota of her focus, making the entire world dissolve.

  Without thinking, she licked at the blood, nibbling on his thumb. She quelled a whimper. Her magic jolted to attention at the drop. Drinking directly from him? This was a predator-prey role reversal that she’d never allowed. She’d told herself it was because, ew blood. But it was the intimacy—her lips on his skin as liquid power hit her system like steroids and ecstasy pills. His Dark Gift and everything else he offered was beyond tempting. If she were Eve, he’d be the apple and the snake combined.

  Drawing this boundary long ago, now she blazed past it.

  Breath hitching, she let him bring her to his neck. She licked hesitantly at first. The blood sank into her tastebuds, igniting a chemical reaction like adrenaline to the heart. Knotting her fists in his shirt, she tugged him closer to suck at the wound. Just like his kiss, it felt like they had done this before.

  He patted her head, voice coming out husky and low. “That’s it.”

  Licking at the stray droplets as he healed under her mouth, she pulled back in a daze. “I want more.”

  Irises flickering amber, Kristoff kissed her hungrily, fingers digging in her hip, palm stroking up her back, awakening every nerve.

  She melted against him, raking her hands into his hair. He always looked so good and put together. She ruffled that reserve, relishing the tremble to his touch as if he was trying to hold back the extent of his passion. He kept his demon on a leash for her. The thought made her moan quietly as he nibbled on her neck. She’d never wanted someone so violently before.

  “Fuckin’ hell, Red, are you shitting me right now?” Vic called out behind her.

  She wiped her mouth before she turned in Kristoff’s arms. Tipsy, blood high, and deeply aroused, she didn’t have the processing power for awkward shame and embarrassment.

  Zach was slack-jawed next to the hunter, his blinks practically audible.

  Red stepped away from Kristoff, but he kept their fingers entwined. “Yeah, I was kissing him, so I get what might be going through your head. It’s not a regular thing.”

  “Has been this week,” Kristoff said cheerfully.

  Vic jabbed a finger at the vampire. “Fuck off or be quiet. She’s wasted, upset about her dead mom, and here you are. I don’t like any of this.”

  Red rubbed her face, untangling herself from Kristoff. “I asked him to come over. Someone had to tell him about Isaac. He has resources. This other stuff… you know, just happened.”

  Zach said quietly, “You care for him. A lot.”

  Ice would have been warmer than the chill that settled in her stomach. Caught in the middle of three stares, she nodded. The truth was already out in the open anyway. She hated the disgust on Vic’s face and wished he’d say something. Even if he did his bit about eye bleach like when he caught her kissing Lucas.

  Mullet whipping around his shaking head, Vic stomped into the house.

  “I’ll go after him,” Zach said and followed.

  “In vino veritas.” Kristoff brushed his fingers over her arm. “I suppose I should be thanking the empath.”

  “Not the time.” She shied away from his distracting touch. “I need to deal with this. If your team finds Isaac…”

  “I’ll keep him on ice for you.” He grinned and strolled out the back gate.

  Pinching her cheeks and willing herself to sobriety, Red continued into the kitchen, yearning to be in something more dignified than a pajama set decorated with smiling sashimi. Zach and Vic sat at the table like two disappointed fathers.

  Vic confronted her before she made it two steps inside. “You didn’t tell me you’re sucking face with Novak!”

  Red didn’t cringe from his anger. She might have been his intern, but she had too much wine and blood in her to be cowed. Technically, she had done everything they wanted and been the good little witch at home. “The way you’re acting, why would I?”

  “How I’m acting?” He tapped his chest, gasping in indignant shock. “I have everyone asking about it, and here I am, like a damn simp, defending you. All the while, you’re playing hide the fang with him. We even talked about this.”

  “We only kissed. It was a fluke! I don’t know.”

  “How long? Is this part of that bargain for me? Letting him…” Adam’s apple bobbing, eyes screwed up in guilt, Vic asked. “Did you not tell me?”

  “I love ya buddy, but I’m not turning tricks for you.” Red blushed, not wanting to say more around the empath who observed them from the table. “He’s not coercing me either. We’ve worked together enough that… What do you want me to say? Zach wasn’t lying.”

  The empath nodded solemnly.

  Vic groaned in frustration. “Didn’t you learn anything from Lucas Crawford jerking you around?”

  “Don’t bring him into it!” Flopping into a chair, she stared at a snow globe of Mount Fuji on the windows
ill above the sink and counted to ten. She tried talking instead of yelling at him. “I don’t know what we’re doing.”

  Pants and white sweater put hastily back on, Callaway came into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. “—we’re doing what?”

  “Hopefully not Kristoff Novak,” Vic quipped darkly.

  Red snapped, “That’s none of your business.”

  “Ooo.” Callaway grabbed a bag of potato chips on the counter and started munching on them. “He’s the rich handsome one, right? I need to be caught up.”

  Vic glared at the sheriff. “You’ve been a terrible chaperone.”

  “You told me to drink and distract.” She crunched a chip. “I fulfilled my mission.”

  “Could you take her home, Vic?” Zach asked. “We all need to take a step back.”

  Red crossed her arms. “I sure could use one.”

  Shaking his head, Vic marched out the door, slamming it with an impatient wave at Callaway as she said goodbye. He took most of the tension out of the room with him, leaving it utterly silent except for the van engine firing to life in the driveway.

  Rubbing sweating palms on her pajama pants, Red smiled. “Thanks, he was a little angry there.”

  “No, he’s scared for you.” Zach half lifted his arm, wincing at the movement. “Thinks of you like a little sister, and we all saw what happened to his last one.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “We know. No one can tell you how to live your life, Red. Just do us a favor and make sure we know what you want in your will.”

  “Oh my god, that’s dramatic. Kristoff doesn’t want to kill me.”

  “Never said he did,” Zach said evenly. “I’m not going to stand in the way of your happiness, but I need to know what to do… after. He’ll make you like him—not today and not for years—but he won’t let you die whether its cancer or from a fight. He loves you too much for that. Tell us what you want before then—soul or a stake. I’ll make sure your wishes are respected.”