Her gaze was haunted, the paleness of her cheeks returning. Wow, that wasn’t something I had ever expected of her. I thought I knew her. I was queen at figuring people out. Or, so I thought. Maybe I wasn’t as amazing as I’d allowed myself to believe. Maybe I was just a girl trying to figure out life.
“Yes. Not long after I lost them, I got in with the wrong crowd. I’d been skirting on the edge of those types of groups for a while, which was part of the reason I met Luis in the first place. But, it sent me over the edge.” Justina wrung her hands together in her lap, her strong boots tapping on the wooden floor.
Putting my hands in my hair to stare at her, I kept my mouth shut. What could I say? She hadn’t judged me harshly for my indiscretion.
“I was able to break free of my addiction once I befriended an agent. He showed me the ropes, helped me see that finding the bad guys was rewarding.”
“Kurt?” My grin stretched my lips.
Shrugging, Justina tucked her feet under her on the chair. “Yes. He might be a bit pig headed, but he’s my best friend. He brought me out of the darkness. Devon,” she said as she leant forward slightly. “Trauma can either destroy you, or it can make you the best version of yourself. You get to choose which way to turn.”
The profoundness of her words made me suck air into my lungs. “I want to be an amazing agent. Not for me, not for my family, but for those that need our help. For people like us who don’t have the agency to rescue them.”
The words sounded superficial to my ears, but as a warmth started to grow in my numb heart, I knew they were true. I just had to work on becoming that person.
Justina’s hand came to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. “Then let’s get going with this spell.”
The pounding of my heart gave me a new lease of energy. My shrunken posture straightened as I stretched my spine. Justina had inspired me. If she could move through the shit she’d experienced in her life, then I, Devon Jinx, still half witch, half warlock, could become just as good an agent as my boss. Or, maybe even better. Maybe.
“Let’s do this.”
Closing my eyes, I listened to Justina speak. She was whispering a spell. My head started to pound, the pain piercing my ears. It suddenly dropped as dizziness took over. Ah, I hated hallucinations. They had become a part of my life that I needed to leave behind.
“I want you to go back to the memory of the grimoire. Can you tell me what you see?”
The book appeared in front of me, the paper soft to the touch. I glanced up to look at the figure in front of me, smiling when grandma stroked my cheek.
“Now, my darling, do you remember what I taught you to do?” Her cheeks were flawless, the skin stretched tightly, exactly like I’d seen her in the hospital. She hadn’t aged at all.
“Yes, Grandma,” my little self replied. “I need to touch this dagger and concentrate on the ancestors.”
Reaching out, I did as I had said. The dagger was cool under my little fingers. Helena came around the table and put a quill that had been dipped in ink into my free hand. “Good girl. Now whisper the spell I gave you and write what you see.”
My little mouth opened, Latin emerging. I had no idea what the words meant, but as soon as the first sentence had finished, I leant forward, trying to reach the top of the grimoire page. Grandmother helped me by lifting my butt off the chair.
“Can you see it, my angel?” she whispered, anticipation strong in her voice.
Nodding, I started to copy the words I could see in my mind’s eye. The language was unfamiliar, Latin again. And, yet, my small body shuddered several times as I wrote. The dagger grew warm under my hand.
“It hurts,” I said, going to take my hand away.
“No,” my grandmother snapped. “Keep it there until you’re done. I can feel the ley line connecting you to our ancestors. You must finish the spell.”
A gasp shot through me suddenly, drawing me back to the present. My whole body shook as I stared at Justina. She was on her feet, going to the grimoire. Her hands shook as she brought it over to me.
“You wrote the spell, Devon. It was you who created the spell that could wipe out the warlock race.”
Chapter Ten
The bucket knocked over as I stumbled in the dark. My heart leapt into my throat as Gerard caught me around the waist.
“Be careful,” he hissed, the air from his mouth blasting over my forehead.
“I’m sorry, but you did insist we didn’t use a torch. Which is crazy! I told you, they’re using this place as a drug den now.”
We were back at the abandoned hospital. Yes, really, we were completely and utterly insane. But, that wasn’t new knowledge. Sneaking out after dark, Gerard had agreed to help me. It had been a week since I had found out that I was the one who had channelled the fatal spell through my ancestors. Being locked up had driven me a little cuckoo.
“Why are we here?” Gerard whispered as we navigated the corridors. “The agency already swept the whole hospital of evidence.”
His hand was in mine as we relied on our night vision, which wasn’t great, to guide us around the hospital.
“I need to go back to that cell. I know it sounds mad, but there’s a distinct memory that I can’t grasp. Something that I think will help.”
Okay, so I was reaching but being out of the agency building was refreshing. When John had marched me down the corridor, a picture had fallen off the wall. I knew the picture. And, yet, I didn’t know why.
“Devon, have I told you how much I-?” He stopped speaking suddenly.
“Love me?” I tried, ever hopeful.
His hand squeezed my fingers. “Listen,” he whispered.
The sound of very faint shuffling made me freeze, fear literally spiralling through me and rooting me to the spot. Just as I was about to freak out, the lights flickered on.
“Shit,” I squealed, jumping out of my skin when Gerard’s face appeared right near me.
Shoving away from him, I almost tripped over something else on the floor. Adrenaline pounded through me as the lights blinkered. Looking down, I almost smiled when I saw the painting at my feet.
“What are the odds of that?” I asked Gerard.
He was still in place, listening. Ah, yeah, the fact that someone had obviously just turned the lights on was extremely fucking terrifying. Grabbing the painting, I backtracked over to my partner again, gripping his arm when I reached his side.
“Ouch,” he said, trying to prise me off. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be the all-powerful Devon Jinx.”
“I am,” I whispered as I studied the painting of the mansion. “I just enjoy touching your skin.”
Something stirred in me as I traced the fountain in the lawns. I recognised the place. Had I been there before?
“There you are,” a female voice drawled.
Spinning in unison, we faced the woman who stood down the corridor. Her long brown hair was braided down her back, her clothes were dark which matched the black tattoos on her arms. It was Gerard’s female counterpart. Sort of.
“We don’t want any trouble,” Gerard said.
He assumed that she was part of the drug gang, but my instincts told me otherwise. The way she eyed me, her gaze full of hatred.
“You might not want it,” a male voice said. “But, you’re going to get it.”
Great. One witch. One warlock. What were they doing hanging out together? It wasn’t exactly the place for an intermixed party. Unless they were hooking up, of course.
“Devon Jinx was the one who created an evil spell.”
Er, or not.
“It’s time we left,” I muttered as we backed up a bit.
A high pitched laugh made my skin bloom in goose bumps. They had a dark crawler with them? What the hell were they playing at?
“This is our friend, Eddie,” the woman said as she took a step towards us. “He’s agreed to possess you. And, he’s not as weak as the one who possessed you before.”
&n
bsp; The stench hit me as an old man came around the corner. He was limping, his leg almost hanging off from rot. It was a good job my stomach had got stronger over the last few months, otherwise I would’ve been heaving by now.
“Stay away,” Gerard shouted, holding up his arm.
He was about to cast a spell, but several other supernatural creatures came up behind the little mob. Oh shit, there was no way we would be able to defeat all of them. Even if I was fully powerful, like I had been before, I would’ve struggled taking on the growing number of people that now stood in front of us.
Whispering a transportation spell, I swore when it didn’t work.
“Justina’s placed a tab on us,” Gerard said as he squeezed my hand. He had stopped me from performing the spell. “We can’t flash anywhere without her knowing.”
About to curse my boss, I stopped when those in front of us took a step forwards.
“Best course of action?” I asked Gerard.
He had whisked us around before he answered. “Run!”
My leather boots gripped the lino flooring as we bolted down the corridor, towards a ward at the end. Would it lead to anywhere? Or, would we be cornered?
“They’re witches and warlocks. They know I wrote that spell in the grimoire. How did word get out?” I was puffing as we lunged around a corner, straight into the ward.
“This way,” Gerard indicated another corridor. The place was like a maze.
My heart pounded in my ears as I followed. There was no way I would be possessed by a dark crawler again. I would prefer to die first. Especially after what had happened the last time I was taken over.
“They’re frustrated,” Gerard said, hardly out of breath as we rushed towards a fire exit.
Chills ran down my spine as soon as I saw the door. Something about it made me think it wasn’t going to be that easy. Extending my energy, I shot back with such force, my body slammed into the wall.
“The door is spelled shut.” My grimace was followed by swearing when the sound of the crawler’s high pitched laugh reached us. “And, they have no right to be frustrated at me.”
Yanking me from the floor, Gerard pushed me through another door. We didn’t have time to cast a spell to break through the barrier. And, my warlock magic was too risky, especially since I’d not practiced much witch magic lately.
Gasping for breath, I almost laughed when I spotted another door. Gerard was already there, going through it before I could catch him.
“We’re going to kill you, Devon Jinx,” someone shouted from the corridor behind us.
Several whoops of confirmation followed.
My palms were wet as I dove through the door and into another corridor.
“We need to hide,” Gerard said. “You’re low on witch magic.”
“How do you know?”
The question was stupid considering he was a powerful witch. He could obviously feel that my magic was barely there.
“I need to see Becky,” I muttered as we checked for another exit.
There were none as we turned left at the end of the corridor. This hospital went on forever. How many rooms were there in this hellhole?
“Down there!” someone shouted from behind.
Shit, they had seen which way I had gone. And, there was nowhere to go from here except into…
“Is that the fucking morgue?”
The words left my mouth as Gerard shoved me inside. The adrenaline that pumped through my body wasn’t enough to stop the sudden terrifying fear that laced every inch of me, making me shudder.
“It’s the fucking morgue,” Gerard muttered.
Keeping by his side, I clung to his arm as he led me over to the wall of drawers. Usually, my partner was pretty level headed, but if he was about to suggest-
“Get in.” Tugging the door, he grinned when the drawer slid open.
Backtracking, I hugged my small arms around myself. They weren’t big enough to give me any comfort. “No. You’re crazy. They’ll lock me in there and starve me to death.”
“I’m going to cover your energy with a spell, so they can’t find you.”
Shaking my head, I held my finger up. “No. You’re still crazy. I’d rather be taken over by a crawler than be stuck in there.”
Okay, so I didn’t need to tell him that I’d just had the thought that I’d prefer to die before being possessed. But, we hadn’t been in a fucking morgue when the thought had run through my mind.
“Devon, it’s you they want. You have to trust that I’ll protect you.”
His tattooed arms and gorgeous head wasn’t going to persuade me to get into the place where dead bodies had been. Ever. He could split up with me as his agent partner, it still wouldn’t work.
“As much as I want to be vulnerable with you, Gerard, this isn’t the time and place. We have some arse to kick.”
Dagger ready, I turned to face the door. They were outside, I could feel them. Probably listening to our domestic, planning their next move.
“Devon, I’ll make you get in,” Gerard hissed as he came to stand next to me.
Flicking the door locked with a minor spell, I went over to the far side of the room. There were several areas we could tuck ourselves away.
The agent who was supposed to be supporting me was there beside me, jabbering on about getting into a dead person box.
“Listen.” Grabbing his arm, I reached up and squeezed the back of his neck. “Would you go in there without me?”
Frowning, he shook his head slowly. “But, I’m not the one they want.”
Staring into his eyes, I smiled. “No, but we’re partners. From one agent to another, we never leave each other behind. We fight side by side.”
“Why is it you always say the nicest things when we’re about to get killed?” The twinkle in his eye made me smile.
Letting him go, I poked him in his muscular side. “Because I’m only sentimental when I think I’m about to lose you.”
His jovial expression dropped, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Oh boy, if only the witches and warlocks would leave us alone. We’d be doing much more than hiding in the dead person boxes. My face screwed up at the thought, quickly changing my mind. There was gross, I thought to myself, and then there was just plain wrong.
“They’re breaking the door lock. My barrier spell won’t hold for long,” Gerard hissed, his fingers lightly brushing my hand.
We rushed to an examining table and crouched behind it. The cool metal was cold on my back as I leant on it, taking three deep breaths to try and steady my heartbeat.
Palming his gun, Gerard stayed low beside me, ready to defend us when they came through the door.
“We’re going to get you!” the crawler screamed from outside. “I can’t wait to feel your insides.”
Ew. Why did crawlers have to be so evil? If only we could wipe them out for… good. My brain raced as I tried to concentrate. That wasn’t a bad idea.
Crash! The door burst open, coming off its hinges by the sounds of it. The combined magic of both witches and warlocks was strong enough to get through my spell.
Thrusting up from his position, he fired the gun over the table before ducking. Someone swore as they were hit, the sound of their body slamming on the ground making me cringe. Staring at the dagger in my hand, I concentrated on mother earth. Placing the tip on the lino floor, I pulled magic straight from the earth and into the dagger, without it having to go through me. I hadn’t tried it since we’d defeated Vernon Jupiter, but it worked.
The sound of advance was loud in my ears as I turned and sprung into a crouch. Gerard’s gun was blasting into the crowd, taking a few people down. Pushing up, I instantly clocked several of them filtering into the room. They were trying to take cover, their hands raised. Protection spells were being whispered at the same time as warlocks were falling.
“Devon, don’t,” Gerard snapped when I flung my arm, sending a stream of bright yellow warlock magic into a witch, disarming her spell.
“Shoot her!” I demanded.
Shooty Mac-hot-guy did as he was told for once. When he didn’t question me, we got things done. We could work as a combo until there were none left.
Trying not to drop the dagger when the handle burnt my skin, I extended it again, throwing the ball of flames that erupted from the tip. It crashed into a small male witch, sending him flying backwards.
“Devon,” Gerard warned just before his gun started to click with the sound of empty.
Oh, crap. There was no way in hell I could fend them all off on my own. Gerard’s magic was good, but bullets were the only real thing that stopped them.
“Why haven’t you invented a never ending supply of bullets?”
My question was said through gritted teeth as I tugged on more magic to throw. A blue stream of magic wrapped around a warlock who was getting scarily close and brought him to the ground. The crawler was no longer in the room. Not surprising considering how easy it would be to kill his host. Although… if he was sensible and waited, he could come in, be killed and jump straight into me.
“The crawler,” I said as I tried to calm my shaking body. “He’s going to take advantage, I know it.”
Just as I finished my sentence, the old rotting man came into the room behind two warlocks and a witch. They were protecting him.
“Can’t you do your trapping spell?” Gerard asked as he threw his hand into the air, sending one of the witches back with his magic.
We were both weakening. I was pulling way too much warlock magic through me since I’d expended all the power the dagger had absorbed. My witch magic wouldn’t be strong enough to do the spell.
“Gerard, this might well be the end. If the crawler gets inside me, I want you to kill me. I mean it.”
His grunt of nothing made me smile. He wouldn’t ever kill me, but he might lock me up until my body rotted away. And, then, when he saw how gross I had become, he might put an end to my misery.
“They’re out of bullets,” one of the warlocks cried. “Let’s get them.”
Rushing forward, they came at the table. Peddling backwards, I dragged Gerard with me. Our spines slammed against the tiled wall as a couple of them climbed over the table, the crawler not far behind.
Magically Betrayed: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Hunted Witch Agency Book 3) Page 8