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

by Sami Valentine

  She walked past a tattered velvet couch. Isaac had gone to a lot of trouble to move his stuff. He’d certainly made himself at home. Low shelves were tucked underneath a roughhewed table in the center. Shadowy ingredients like grimoires and what looked unsettlingly like bottled blood pulsed with a dull energy. A bust to Janus stared at her from the top, no doubt from the magic shop.

  She picked up an aged notebook, studying the projects in progress. It was definitely a blood magic grimoire. Handwritten in multiple European languages for privacy, sketches of the murders made their own impression. The text was filled with references to Alaric. She translated a section in Spanish, then looked up at Vic, horrified. “He wrote a whole list of likely places to do the ritual. Too many are crossed off. We didn’t find all the victims.”

  “I’ll grab the books. See if there is anything else magical.”

  Scanning the room with her third eye, she walked to the casket. The velvet depths only had protection sigils traced into the ether inside.

  Portraits leaned against the cave wall. Isaac, painted in a white powdered wig and framed in gold, was on top. She gritted her teeth at the sight of the eagle-nosed aristocrat and pulled the picture back to see the one under it—Alaric. The blurry photos and woodcuts on the Bard Net hadn’t done justice to his malevolence.

  Rendered in rough impressionist strokes of dark blues and browns, the white highlights of his priest collar and fangs jumped out at her. Fear seemed to have been ground into the rich pigments. The painter had captured dark hungry eyes that bored into her even in still life. Had he survived after finishing the portrait? Goosebumps on her arms, Red peered at the last picture, half expecting Delilah Byrnes. But it was Penelope de Grammont, wide-set doe eyes and smiling ruby lips sketched in black and white. The artistry had a photorealistic flair.

  “It’s a small world when you live forever,” she muttered, shifting the frames back into position.

  “What?” Vic asked, setting loose notes into a folder.

  “I think I get why Isaac went for Kristoff first. He’s settling all the scores.”

  “You saw him at the reunion before he saw you working with the Novaks. You hadn’t been on his radar then.” He arched his eyebrow, stroking his chin. “Why did he talk to you?”

  “He was lonely. Everyone he loved is dead.” She frowned at the painting of the blood mage. “He’ll see them all soon.”

  “That he will.” Vic nodded, brow furrowed. He studied her as if wishing he were an empath. “Now, help me with this shit.”

  ---

  Hot, sweaty, and covered with bug bites, Red slapped a mosquito on her arm, walking with Vic on a country road.

  They had pored through the contents of the room for clues, grabbed every grimoire and destroyed every spell ingredient that they could find in the cave. Stace and Jackson met them at the van. The werewolf scented and sniffed from the cave, darting back through the camp and the surrounding canyon, but all the marks were days old. Isaac hadn't returned there after being swept up by the waves.

  “We can try the sea caves next,” Stace suggested.

  Vic retorted, “He’s probably hiding under the dock.”

  Jackson crossed his arms. “He’s going to come back here, I know it.”

  “We need to regroup before the storm hits,” Red said. “Let’s invite the Novaks to the diner and strategize. There are two spots on the list that Isaac hasn't tried—the summer camp and the high school. There's too few us to divide between these two sites.”

  Vic nodded, opening the van door. “Call while we pick up Zach and Lashawn. I don’t like how dark the sky is getting.”

  Red pulled out her phone, frowning at the sudden drizzle that hit the screen. Clouds rolled from the sea over the hills, drifting over the sun. Soon it would be daywalking weather for brave vampires. Or the desperate ones.

  21

  Under growing storm clouds, the Millennium Falcon snaked through the hills to the village below. Red stewed in the front seat. Where the hell was Isaac?

  She hopped out of the van at the diner, holding the bag of grimoires and journals. The gang split up with the werewolves trooping into the cemetery in hopes of sniffing the villain’s trail. After Zach turned over the closed sign and sent the staff home since the place was a ghost town anyway, they laid the stolen papers and books across three put together tables to scan for more clues.

  Sneezing from the dusty tome, Vic grimaced. “Well, we’ve established that he didn’t leave his daybook and agenda. Let’s arm up.”

  Red nodded eagerly, leaning forward in her chair. “Isaac knows he has to finish the ritual by tomorrow night or lose his chance. He’s not licking his wounds. He’s plotting out there.”

  “He’s been plotting for years. We can’t rush this. The guy is psycho.” Stace flashed them a particularly bloody sketch. “I used a translation app to skim through his travelogue of underworld hot spots, learning blood magic. I couldn’t follow it all, but I’m certain illusions aren’t his only trick.”

  “We’ll get him,” Zach said quietly.

  The diner door chimed as Kristoff walked inside wearing jeans and a hooded jacket instead of a suit. Prepared for the fight already. Aviator shades protected his eyes, but his face was sunburn pink even with the thick cloud cover. Head held high, he placed the glasses in a pocket as he strode to the table. “You found more than my men did, I see.”

  “Hey, you’re right on time.” Red smiled, standing to twist the blinds closed before returning to the table. The seconds were like hours as her friends processed his arrival.

  Zach nodded. “Novak.”

  “Hi.” Stace gestured to an open seat. “What languages do you read? Because this stuff isn’t in the Queen’s English.”

  “Make yourself useful already,” Vic growled, pushing an open grimoire toward Kristoff. “Translate this freakin’ German.”

  Muscles sagging in relief, Red released a nervous breath. That was pretty polite for him.

  The vampire picked up the book, scanning the text. A smile bloomed on his face. “He’s complaining about how Lucas and I stole his glory in the sack of Paris during the Bloodline War. And we ruined London for him too. What a pity.” He flipped through the next pages. Skimming quickly, he stopped, brow puckering, blue eyes darting over the text again. “I know how he survived Alaric’s uprising. He disappeared into the wildfire smoke, fleeing as a shadow when the last battle turned. Trying to make it up to daddy now, I see.”

  Storm clouds fulfilling their promise, rain pelted the diner’s tin awning as Red laid out what they’d found in Isaac's cave. She continued, tapping at a handwritten page. “Look at this passage. There are so many different observations that it’s muddled, but he's getting closer to discovering the original ritual with each murder. He’s been researching this long before he came here.”

  Tensing, Kristoff snapped his head toward the door and looked skyward in frustration. “No, she didn’t.”

  Delilah Byrnes glided inside the dinner from the downpour. In a beige trench coat, large black sunglass perched on her face, and golden hair protected in a plastic scarf, she looked like an old Hollywood starlet hiding from the paparazzi. Except for the bruise darkening her eye socket despite foundation. She kissed Kristoff on the cheek before facing the humans at the table.

  Stace and Zach stood, echoing the same question. “Delilah?”

  Vic snapped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  In an instant, Red knew what happened. She crossed her arms. “You went to see your blood brother, didn't you?”

  “I didn’t know that I would find…” Stiffening, Delilah wrapped an arm around her waist and took off the glasses. Popped blood vessels stained the white of her left eye. She straightened, somehow meeting all their gazes at once in that peculiar way of hers. “I plucked him out of the ocean to talk sense into him.”

  “Well, did you?” Red asked, the question drowned out by the others’ reactions.

  Kristoff touched
the other vampire’s arm. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  Vic chuckled sarcastically. “Delilah helping the bad guy. Again.”

  “We were looking for him on the beach for hours!” Stace groaned and tugged at one of her curls in frustration.

  Seemingly unconcerned by the fuss, the vampiress untied her scarf and shook off raindrops off it.

  “Could you whistle for me?” Red tapped Zach on the shoulder, waiting until his piercing signal brought the group to silence. “Well, Delilah, you have something to say? What's your brother up to? I assume he's still alive and kicking, judging by your face.”

  “I asked him to flee and never return. He wouldn't.”

  “Why go to him?”

  “Isaac and I have never been fond of each other,” Delilah said, nose wrinkling and eyes screwed up in disdain for Red. “But I’ve lost enough family because of you.”

  Quinn had sacrificed himself to save her, but that was who he was. It didn’t make Red feel any better. Wincing, she asked gently, “So, why are you here?”

  Vic piped up. “You know we’re staking him as soon as we can, right?”

  “I'm here to plead for him, dumbass.” Delilah planted a hand on her hip. “He's going to make his last stand at the summer camp tonight, but he doesn’t need to be killed. He's sick, not thinking logically, but he can be contained.”

  “No!” Red said to the half-fae and then turned to Kristoff. “That’s not negotiable.”

  Delilah smiled tightly, batting her eyelashes. “I thought you were all about the job? He could name other blood mages to vanquish. Don’t you think Quinn would want you to give a shit?”

  Red scowled, arms folded over her chest, stung by her own words lobbed back at her.

  “We can't promise anything,” Stace said.

  “I don’t need your promises. I need you off my back,” Delilah said. “I can reason with him once I find him.”

  Vic snorted. “Like last time?”

  Ignoring her mentor’s apt observation, Red asked, “Why do you think he's going to target the summer camp tonight?”

  “Because he told me,” Delilah sassed, rolling her eyes. “The stars are going out of alignment. He kept talking about the moment when Alaric died. He wants to make it right. Never did find out what ‘it’ actually was because he fought to leave before dawn.”

  “If you stand with us and talk him down, it may be possible to bring him in alive for Blood Alliance justice.” Stace crossed her arms. “If you tip him off or—"

  “He—” Red opened her mouth to protest when a wave of contentment landed on her like a smothering pillow. She glared at the apologetic-looking Zach.

  Stace continued, “Fight beside him, and your authorities will label you a traitor. The Blood Realm opens, we’re the first defense. If it comes to it, I’ll call everyone from the FBI to the DVA to beat back whatever comes out.”

  Kristoff rested his palm on Delilah’s shoulder. “Warning us might've saved your own life.”

  “Don't screw it up,” Vic snarked.

  “Tell us everything you know,” Kristoff said. “Everything he said.”

  Delilah sighed, fluttering her hand dismissively. “You remember Isaac, the man is still a blowhard…”

  Red walked away from the conversation and tugged on Zach’s sleeve to draw him aside. How dare he! “My emotions are my own.”

  Shamefaced, he nodded. “Sorry, you felt ready to blow.”

  She jabbed a finger toward him, muttering, “Ask first.”

  Forcing herself to chill the regular way, she moved to stand by Kristoff. Pissing off their only tie to Isaac wasn’t going to do them any favors. Obviously, Stace was bullshitting to keep the vamp in check. If she didn’t kill the blood mage, Prince Marek would order it done. It wasn’t as if she could stage whisper and wink to reassure. It still stung Red. Shaking her head, she told herself to get in the game.

  Delilah chronicled arranging a private flight to Oregon and driving along the coast, tracking the connection to her blood brother. She complained about the dress she had ruined, swimming out to find Isaac unconscious and caught under a rock before taking him to shelter in a sea cave. The fight had weakened him, yet he still had plenty of vitriol. For hours, they’d argued over their sire and petty slights from centuries ago.

  Vic scoffed at the end of the tale. “He could have fed you bad intel. We still need hunters guarding the high school. This summer camp could be a feint.”

  “I have enough men for both sites,” Kristoff said.

  Red picked lint off his sleeve idly. “We should do this as blended teams.”

  “Agreed,” Zach said. “But you should hang in the back. Long range spells, just in case Isaac realizes he needs to sacrifice a witch.”

  Vic nodded, discomfort on his face. “He’s right.”

  “Okay,” Red gritted out. She let the conversation move to blueprints on a laptop to strategize where to set snipers and escaped into the industrial kitchen behind the bar for a breather. Her head was beginning to ache from holding in her frustration. She rubbed her face, sighing.

  “I know what you’re doing.”

  Red jumped at the voice. She inhaled deeply, bracing herself to lie about how she wanted to take Isaac alive. The truth could get messy, and right now wasn’t the time to tell Delilah how her sire really died. “I was trying to get a moment’s peace.”

  “And I was trying to do my job in LA, but you wanted me to care. How’s that working out for us?” The vampire smoothly replied, tapping French manicured nails on her hips. “You’re giving me a chance to talk my brother down. It’s the least you can do for me. No magic tricks. I have few kindred left, and that prat is one of them.”

  “Getting soft in your old age?”

  “Piss me off and you’ll see.” Delilah’s lip curled, revealing a sharp fang. “After what I saw in there, you’re already on my shit list. I warned Lucas about you. I do so love being right. Usually.”

  “Cut the cryptic cattiness.” Red folded her arms, hiding her balled up fists. This wasn’t where she’d expected the conversation to go.

  “Always so coy.” Delilah pursed her lips, gaze icy. “Finding out about you and Kristoff will break his heart. Again.”

  Red froze. There was truth to it, but he always knew how to reach her. She had tried to keep contact after they broke up and, outside the hunter equivalent of a work trip to Vegas, Lucas didn’t. “Don’t put this on me,” she said bitterly, lip curling. “He was the one who ended it. How I move on is my own concern.”

  Kristoff pushed open the kitchen door. “Ladies, we’re planning mayhem and need your talents.”

  Delilah glided out with a toss of her blond hair, brushing against his chest unnecessarily as she passed.

  Still bristling, Red followed the vampires back into the dining area.

  Stace brainstormed with the others. “What if I issued him a challenge, one on one with—”

  Zach looked down at his buzzing phone and jumped up from the table suddenly. “It’s a text message from the security company. Someone's broken into the house.”

  “Oh God, Aunt Gina's journals are there. Probably open in the dining room still.” Stace disappeared in a flash of pink sparkles, sprinting out of the diner.

  “You should remain.” Kristoff grabbed Delilah’s hand. She gave him a withering glance to show she was merely tolerating him.

  Red and the rest of the humans trooped into the Millennium Falcon. Vic shattered the speed limit as Zach ransacked the weapons cases for arrows. She wound her magic tight around her mother’s ring, readying herself. Birds exploded out of the trees as the van turned onto Sycamore Row, tires screeching.

  Five vampires surrounded Stace in her front yard. The rain came at them sideways as they battled on the muddy grass. Katana flashing, she fought as the dead rushed her. It wasn’t an orderly queue; it was a pile on. The Hero twisted and ducked the blows, hacking limbs to keep from being pulled down.

  The van acc
elerated over the curb and clipped the demons on the edge of the fight. Red hopped out before Vic even put it in park. Chilly rain soaked her hair. Drawing on the element of air, she visualized the molecules solidifying into a large hook. She yanked a female away from Stace.

  The vampires split up to face the newcomers.

  Zach climbed onto the hood and fired an arrow into the back of a towering male. Aim true, the vampire decayed rapidly, toppling over like felled tree.

  Stace slashed another across the back, then sliced the head off in a smooth single movement.

  Vic waded into the fray with a stake and blessed cross, his faith amplifying the symbol’s power.

  Red air-slapped one vamp into Vic’s waiting stake, then struggled against a slender arm wrapped around her throat.

  A feminine voice purred. “The big man will be happy. You’re fresher than the magic shop hag. Less likely to have a heart attack before the ritual is performed.” It was Colleen with the mouthy childe from the tithing. Choking her captive, she waved another hand in Red’s face—three fingers were missing. “You’re Novak’s witch. I owe him a debt, you see.”

  Spots marring her vision, lungs straining for breath, Red smashed the back of her head against the vampire’s nose. Pain erupted. Ignoring it, she raised a palm to send a burst of air over her shoulder and broke the choke hold. She spun around. “Did you come here for me?”

  “You’re a bonus.” Colleen dove for her ankles, knocking them both to the lawn. Lips pressed into a thin line of concentration, the vamp pressed her forearm hard on Red’s throat and peeled off the ring.

  Breath cut off, Red bucked her hips. Rain stung her eyes. She punched her attacker, arms weakening. Mentally, she reached out for a large garden stone ringing the mulched-over flower beds.

  The magic felt crude without her mother’s ring as a channel. Wobbling, the rock flew forward, hitting Colleen in the side of the head and knocking her over.

  Rolling to her belly, Red gasped for breath and searched the grass for her ring.

  Stace zoomed in, katana raised, decapitating the vamp in a smooth stroke. “Your hair is changing colors.”