by Stormie Kent
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Author’s Note
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Loose Id Titles by Stormie Kent
Stormie Kent
SHIFTER MAGNETISM
Stormie Kent
www.loose-id.com
Shifter Magnetism
Copyright © June 2015 by Stormie Kent
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eISBN 9781623003289
Editor: Larke Butler
Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs
Published in the United States of America
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This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Author’s Note
Welcome to the fictional town of Coldwell in Coldwell County, Maryland. Supernatural beings live here alongside their human counterparts, hiding, often in plain sight. There is only one real rule all the magical residents have in common: “Stick to your own kind.” This story follows what happens to one wolf shifter and one witch who don’t.
Chapter One
“Police are baffled by the bizarre deaths of three women here in Coldwell. If the perpetrator, known as the Brain Surgeon, continues his weekly pattern, he will strike again tonight.”
The television suddenly shut off, and Leila looked up at her mother.
“Human entertainment is highly sensational, Leila. Their lives are so boring they attempt to make every trivial thing dramatic.”
Leila didn’t think three women dying was trivial, but there was no point telling her mother that.
Zuria Barclay couldn’t be bothered with other people’s opinions. Her daughter’s opinion didn’t matter either, unless she was agreeing with Zuria. Though the women killed had all been witches, Leila knew the murders would only be relevant to her mother if the women were from the local Council.
Leila watched her glance in an intricately gilded mirror to smooth her perfectly styled chignon. Even in her home she looked every inch the Chief Operating Officer of Barclay Marketing and Advertising, Incorporated—their family’s company and the oldest African-American-owned business in Coldwell, Maryland.
Zuria straightened the collar of her flawlessly tailored linen suit, the peach color setting off the undertones in her brown skin, before sitting beside her daughter on the sofa. “I’m so glad you could come by this morning. Your father and I have been talking. We think it is time for you to give up this little fascination you have with humans and settle down with a nice wizard.”
Leila almost hung her head and groaned. She knew when she’d accepted the brunch invitation at her parents’ home while her father played golf that it was a ruse to disparage her new friends and to matchmake. It would be a frosty day in hell before she let her mother know she might be right about how close-minded some humans were. As for the matchmaking, why would she want her mother to pick her husband? She didn’t even want the woman to pick out her clothes.
“Mother, we’ve gone over this before. I don’t want any help. Grandma always said I would find true love where I least expect it.”
The doorbell rang, and Leila had a hunch her mother’s matchmaking had already started.
“Maybe true love is behind the front door.”
Leila was pretty sure it wasn’t. She didn’t stand when Val, her parents’ housekeeper, announced their visitor. Tall and more thin than sleek, the man her mother currently chatted up had his medium-length light brown hair tied back with a simple black band. He wore a nondescript brown suit and a beige trench coat. His skin seemed unnaturally pale to her, as if he spent most of his time hunched over a desk.
“Leila, darling, this is Octavius Evans. He is a new applicant to the men’s Council.”
Leila did the pretty, shaking the man’s hand. She even resisted wiping her palm on her dress when she realized his was rather moist.
His smile was amiable as he gazed down at her. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Leila.”
“Likewise, Octavius.” Something sharp shifted behind his mild green eyes and was gone.
On alert, she studied his face, looking for something other than the polite expression he showed them.
“Shall we adjourn to the dining room?” Her mother’s smile was wider than it should have been.
Leila preceded them both into the room. Three place settings were arranged around one end of the long table, creating a cozy feel. Her mother’s third-best china, with the tasteful cherry-blossom pattern, was matched with coordinating linen. The culinary offerings included a tiered serving tray layered with artfully decorated pastries alongside platters of ham, smoked salmon, fruit-glazed pancakes, waffles, and mini quiches.
She wasn’t surprised when Octavius seated both her and her mother. If he had caught her mother’s eye as a possible suitor, he was likely magically powerful, and his etiquette would be above reproach.
“Octavius is a financial analyst for the Savult Corporation.”
She thought that might be an insurance company. “Do you enjoy your work?”
He shrugged. “There is no challenge working for humans.”
Ah, he was one of those. Who was she kidding? Most supernaturals felt superior to humans. “So what do you do for a challenge?”
“I hunt and collect legendary repositories.”
She paused with a delicious bit of waffle halfway to her mouth. “Oh?”
“Yes, I’ve traveled all over the country hunting them.”
What kind of man wanted artifacts that stole the power of magical creatures? She placed her fork on her plate. “Most of them have been hunted and destroyed.”
His smile held the edge of something thorny. “Maybe not. If anyone could easily find them, there wouldn’t be much of a hunt.”
“What do you do with the repositories?”
His smile lost some of its bite, and he was
once again simply a very polite wizard who had a strange hobby. “I study and display them. If I find anything truly dangerous, I turn it over to the Council. Most of the items are only myths. There is far more danger in the actions of supernatural beings than their contraptions.”
He laughed, and Leila relaxed. If he turned over the dangerous artifacts to his Council, he understood the risks of individuals owning powerful objects.
“Isn’t that right, Leila?”
Leila stared blankly at her mother. “I apologize, Mother. I didn’t hear you.”
Zuria frowned. “Octavius asked about our relationship with the local shifter pack, and I told him we stay out of each other’s way.”
Octavius cleared his throat. “I am relieved to hear it. They are hardly more than animals, and I hear some packs seek to eliminate any magical competition in the area.”
Leila had been taught shifters were merely animals, but for some reason she didn’t want to agree with him. He seemed normal for a wizard. It must be her mother’s desire for a match causing her to feel so contrary. Still, something within her decided she didn’t want anything to do with him.
“The magical inhabitants of Coldwell know their places. Mother, I hate to leave so early, but I have work to do for the Showcase. I must go. It was nice to meet you, Octavius.”
She didn’t meet her mother’s eyes as she stood and placed her napkin on the table. She needed to escape with her sanity before her mother began cataloging Leila’s selling points. She definitely didn’t want to be caught in an awkward moment with Octavius if he decided to ask her out.
Vowing never to set foot in her parents’ house again, she left. It wouldn’t work. Her mother would simply bring one of her husband candidates to an office function or, worse, corner her in her home.
She could pick her dates without her mother’s help. She wanted passion and common interests. Was that so wrong? She certainly wouldn’t have found those things with Octavius. Why in the world would her mother think he was her type? Didn’t her mother know her at all?
Tonight she was going to dance her cares away at a fun costume party, while he would probably catalog the rare artifacts he’d told her about over brunch.
First she needed to help her new human friends decorate the club. Was it wrong to call them her human friends and not simply her friends? She’d try to do better. She didn’t want to wake up one morning and be her mother, close-minded and judgmental.
And as for her love life, the next man she felt a spark of desire for, she was going for it.
Before she could worry about decorations, she had an errand to run. She pulled up to Crystal Dreams, Coldwell’s new age crystal and healing shop. The window display was colorful. Cut and uncut crystals and stones sat on wildly beautiful fabrics of stars and geometric patterns. A hand-painted sign advertised an introduction to chakras class the next weekend.
Leila pushed open the door to the tinkling of chimes and glanced around. The air had been liberally laced with sage smoke and spritzed lavender water.
“I’ll be with you in a moment, Leila.”
Leila stood silently to the side and watched Ametta explain a chakra wand to a statuesque woman in a severe black pantsuit. You never knew who would drop by Crystal Dreams. The blonde woman’s attention never wavered from Ametta’s soft-spoken explanation. Ametta was her usual colorful self in a rainbow paisley dress with a high-low hem. The dress hugged her curvy frame.
As soon as Ametta completed her sale and walked her client to the door on bare feet, she turned to Leila. “You’re energies are horribly unbalanced today.”
Leila laughed and waved the redhead’s concern away. “I came from my mother’s house. She tried to set me up with another wizard.”
Ametta nodded. “Yes, that would do it. I suppose she didn’t warn you before this gentleman caller was thrust upon you?”
“You know Zuria.”
Ametta tsk-tsked. “What brings you to the shop?”
“I came by to ask if you would do a crystal healing class during the Showcase.” The Showcase was a biannual talent show for the young in the Council, intended to allow them to display their best skill. It ended up being part festival and part talent show, with established mages teaching minicamps. The young could gain an idea of where and with whom they might like to apprentice.
Ametta smiled. “I would love to. What I do isn’t as popular as some.”
Leila grimaced a bit. Her minicamps were consistently full. “They always seem to be disappointed when they can’t immediately repurpose energy.”
Leila could sense energy and use it as she wished. She didn’t need spells and chants to work magic. She could take the energy in her body, or even animate and inanimate objects, and then use it to manipulate her environment. Her innate brand of magic was dangerous, and she had trained herself to ignore the desire to pull at the energy around her.
“Power is seductive, Leila. Soon enough they will learn to trust their own magic.”
Leila hoped. Mages dissatisfied with their magic sought to steal it from others. That was the danger of repurposing energy. If she used her power without discretion, she would slowly be eaten by the need for more and slide desperately into the trap of fatal magic.
A shiver coursed over her spine. “I’ll send you more information about the Showcase. Be careful out here. There is a sicko killing witches.”
“I heard. None so far have been from this Council.”
Leila clenched her fists. “How is he getting past all the protective spells?”
For supernatural beings with such power, it was a shame they weren’t able to stop the murderer. She bet if this creep had been attacking one of the more aggressive races, they would have hunted him down and eliminated him by now. She felt so helpless.
Ametta shrugged. “The only people who seem to be searching for this guy are the human police.”
They wouldn’t be effective against a being with the killer’s power. “Yeah.”
That about summed it up.
* * * *
“Lobo, I need to see you.”
Nic watched as the captain walked into his office, rubbing his forehead and reading a police report.
Nic stood and followed the captain. He knew what had the man worried. The Brain Surgeon would strike again, killing another young woman by frying all the synapses in her brain.
No one could figure out how he was accomplishing the task. Nic had his suspicions. He also knew more about the situation than he could tell Captain Rochester. All the women had been witches.
Nic sat in front of the captain’s desk and waited for the older African-American man to speak. The captain had gone gray years ago, but he was still fit for a human. Nic actually admired him. He was fair and always tried to uphold the law.
Captain Rochester tossed the file on his desk. “Do you have anything to report on this Brain Surgeon character? Brain Surgeon. The press should be ashamed of themselves. This sicko is killing women, and they’ve given him a nickname.”
Nic could tell him what he’d scented at each crime scene, but the other man would think he was crazy. “We know he’s going to attack tonight. We know he picks plus-size women in their late twenties and early thirties. We know they were all attacked while leaving a party or nightclub wearing skimpy outfits. We will have plainclothes officers at every club and cabaret in town. I’m going to attend a costume party and keep an eye on things.”
The captain narrowed his eyes. “What’s so special about this costume party?”
“I just have a hunch.”
Captain Rochester grunted. He’d learned to trust Nic’s hunches. “Find me something, Nic. The Feds are on their way here to step all over our toes and get in the way.”
The last thing Nic needed was a gaggle of Feds tangling around his paws while he was trying to hunt down a paranormal killer. “I’m on it.”
He recognized the captain’s dismissal and left. He shut down his computer and glanced at his partner Hank�
�s desk. The other shifter’s mate had gone into labor two hours ago. Nic was on his own.
Nic drove through town to where the Coldwell Pack lands bordered the city limits. The rear of the grounds opened into fifty-four thousand acres of the largest state forest in western Maryland. A shifter pack had always stood on this spot. The community was shrouded in trees and brush that opened into a clearing surrounded by homes. There was a definite rustic feel to each house.
Nic pulled up alongside his home. It looked just like the others around him. Even the alpha residence was the same, only larger. Nic scanned the area; except for the children running and playing, no one was out. He hurried into his house, headed for the kitchen, and poured himself a glass of iced tea. Walking back into his living room, he took a seat on the couch. He had a few hours before the costume party. He didn’t know why he knew the perp would be there. When he’d seen the lineup of parties for the night one of the patrolmen had put together, the address had leaped out at him.
He wanted to catch this guy so bad. Supernaturals needed to police their own. No human prison was going to hold this killer if he was frying women’s brains. Sounded like a wizard to Nic, but there were other creatures and beings with power out there.
He heard someone coming up his walkway before he identified the scent as belonging to the alpha. Standing, Nic tensed as the other man simply let himself into his home. Cabrón. Bastard.
Nic forced himself to relax, to keep himself from staring Manuel down and starting a fight for dominance in his living room. Nic had spent his entire life playing beta to Manuel’s alpha. His wolf had never thanked him for it.
He turned slowly to Manuel. It was never a good idea to have the shifter at your back. The smirk on the other man’s face was pure Manuel. It matched the hint of mean in his eyes.
“So, boy, what are the humans ordering you to do now?”
Manuel was only ten years Nic’s senior and calling him boy was a stretch. “I’m doing as you told me, Alpha. I’m just keeping an eye on the humans and making sure I’m in place to help shifters out.”