Magically Bound_An Urban Fantasy Novel

by Rachel Medhurst

  Oh no, they weren’t going to overtake my whole life. Fitness, combat training or anything else they had up their sleeves was not high on my list, no matter what they said. “I have my own gym and swimming pool and well, you know,” I called as I made two cups of tea.

  Picking them up, I took a deep breath. I had no choice but to face Handsome Mac-morning in my barely-there clothes.

  “I’m being serious,” I kind of called in warning. “Okay, so I might only go once a week, but I promise to up my workouts. I promise to kick more arse, and I promise to eat healthy or something. What are we working on today?” Marching into the room, I shoved one of the mugs at him before striding straight into the bathroom.

  He had averted his gaze when I came out of the kitchen. What a gentleman. Although, looking down at my knickers, I could see exactly why he might not want to get an eyeful of those.

  “As if I’d trust you to train. I need to teach you combat fighting. You’re using magic as a way to get through life, but you need more.”

  A smile came to my lips at his less than amused tone. I’d show him combat fighting. Tugging my clean leather-look leggings off my dryer, I shoved them on before pairing them with a white strap top.

  Looking in the mirror, I screwed up my face. Mascara was under my eyes where I had been too lazy to take it off the night before. What can I say? It had been a tough couple of days. My hair was also in disarray, the top sticking up where I had obviously slept on it. Brushing myself up as best I could, I came charging out of the bathroom, my leg extending out in front of me in small hard kicks, straight towards Gerard.

  Putting his hand out, he caught my ankle as I got closer, pushing it gently and sending me crashing onto the sofa. “Hey!”

  A small chuckle rumbled deep in his chest as I looked up at him from under my hair. The half-smile on his face made me laugh. He didn’t even know how to relax. At all. Maybe I could rectify that in the future.

  “I’ve heard a whisper or two that there was a fight at a local bar last night.”

  Scrambling up, I went back to the bathroom to retrieve my tea. I needed to regain my composure, and lying flat out on the sofa was not going to do that.

  “It was nothing,” I said as I came back into the living area.

  Gerard was studying one of the pictures on the wall. It was a framed piece of ancient paper. An original spell that my mother had received from her grandmother.

  “This is quite incredible,” Gerard whispered, his deep voice full of awe.

  There were rarely times in my life when I was content to watch someone admire something of mine and enjoy it. His green eyes flicked over the Latin words, his tongue coming out to wet his lips. My own tongue copied the movement.

  Reaching up, he traced the small symbol in the corner, his sleeve lifting up his arm. My gaze was drawn to the new tattoo there. Sixty Three. The numbers were in a font I didn’t recognise. They were tucked against Sixty Two, at a different angle. The shading was grey, showing a red raised area of skin.

  “You got a new tattoo,” I said, holding my hand by my side in case it decided that it wanted to trace the new ink on his forearm. It was very tempted.

  Stepping back, Gerard shrugged the sleeve of his jacket down to cover the new artwork. He cleared his throat before he took a swig of tea and handed me the cup. “Let’s go.”

  Almost storming from the room, he paused when he saw Kingsley. Reaching over, he stuck his fingers in to stroke him.

  No one had ever touched my pet rat. They were either too scared, or Kingsley had threatened to bite them. But, no, the traitor, Kingsley, was rubbing his nose against Jumpy Mac-fitty’s long manly fingers. If only I could be that rat.

  “He wants a biscuit,” I told my new partner begrudgingly. “They’re under the cage.”

  A part of me expected him to shy away from feeding my rat, but no, he had to be all perfect and get a biscuit out for my furry friend. Great, he was a lover of animals, too. Could I like the man any more than I already did?

  Opening my mouth to protest when he went to stroke Kingsley yet again, and no it wasn’t because I was jealous, I paused when both our phones beeped.

  Grabbing mine up from the table, I smiled as I read the message. We had a mission. And… Justina wanted me to behave and observe only. Aw, that sucked.

  “We’ve got to go, Buddy,” Gerard said to Kingsley.

  I had never heard him speak with such affection before. And, it was to my pet rat. Ugh.

  “You’ve got a soft spot for animals, I’ll remember that.”

  Picking up my jacket, I ran my hand through my hair in a last attempt to get it looking normal. It didn’t work.

  “Why isn’t he your familiar?” his gruff voice asked as he went out the apartment.

  Closing the door without saying goodbye to my traitor of a pet, I quickly opened it again and gave him a little stroke. I couldn’t hold a grudge against my little man. “Sorry,” I whispered, feeling guilty that I was cross with him for giving someone else attention.

  He squeaked before going over to his bed and settling down to sleep. Smiling to myself, I backed out of the room and locked the door.

  “He’s not my familiar because having two types of magic is confusing for me, let alone a rat.” Shoving past him where he waited at the top of the stairs, I skipped down them and out the front door.

  “That’s considerate of you,” he said, catching up to me. “About last night. Please, try and keep it under control. I know you’ve got this thing with the warlocks…”

  “I haven’t got a thing with the warlocks. I’m just their leader.”

  His footsteps slowed. Glancing up at him, I frowned when he stared into my eyes. “Why? Why would you choose to be a warlock over a witch?”

  Turning away from him, I marched down the street. The crowds were thin in this part of London after rush hour, but there were still tourists wandering around. No one looked at me, I blended into the surroundings nicely, just how I liked.

  Gerard’s footsteps followed me, but he didn’t push me for an answer. I had always been half and half, never having to choose. In the fight the night before, something had been up with my witch magic. It was as if using the warlock magic made me weaker on my witch side. Surely that wasn’t possible?

  “I’m not choosing!” I suddenly blurted, facing Gerard and stopping on the pavement.

  He came to a stand next to me, his gaze looking ahead. “You’re the leader of the warlocks, surely your loyalties have to lie with them?”

  I was part of a witch coven, although I had pissed them off enough to be ignored by the majority of them. My mother had brought me up a witch, so that’s what they knew me as. Since my warlock side had kicked in, I’d been a hot mess of confusion. Where did my loyalties lie?

  Gerard’s phone started to ring, which shook us both out of our thoughts. Answering it in clipped tones, he said that we would head straight there. Where was there?

  When he hung up, he touched my arm so quickly I barely felt it. “We need to go to London Bridge Station. Apparently, the police have picked up a very confused witch.”

  Doing something on his phone, he started to walk towards the tube station. My heart thumped in my chest at the possibility of seeing some real action. Of helping a witch.

  “Where’s Justina and Kurt?” I asked, jogging to keep up with his long strides.

  He looked down at me, almost shocked that I was still there. “They’re in a meeting with the government. That was one of the other agents. He knows we’re working this case.”

  Excitement bubbled in my stomach, causing butterflies to dance and crash around in there. Maybe I could be of some use, even though I had been told not to get involved. Surely, a friendly person like me could help?

  The tube station was quiet, which allowed us to walk through the barriers using an invisibility spell. Humans and their CCTV meant that we had to be a little extra careful, although every coven in London had signed a treaty with the government to
promise to never hide ourselves in the city. Especially on public transport. But, today we had to make an acceptation so we could get to our destination as quickly as possible.

  “Why can’t we just flash there?” I asked Gerard as we stepped straight onto the train.

  Sitting in a vacant seat, I looked up at him. He held onto the railing above, the raise of his arm releasing a very masculine scent. Oh boy, if I wasn’t careful, my nose would find its way into the crease of his armpit. And, that probably wouldn’t go down too well.

  “Because Justina likes us to use magic as little as possible. We can flash to places in cases of emergencies only.”

  Well, it seemed that our boss had a real thing about using our humanly skills instead of magic all the time. Why was that?

  The ride went smoothly as I stared through the window. My mind emptied, even though there was a lot I should be thinking about.

  “Devon?” Gerard drew my attention when I got up to get off at the next stop.

  Looking up, I reached for the pole to hold onto, but completely missed it when the train slowed suddenly. My whole body propelled sideways. Gerard’s arm came out, catching me around the waist and righting me before I fell. Holding my hands out, I grabbed his jacket to get steady again.

  We were pressed together, close. Very close. His arm around my waist, my hands holding him. We both inhaled sharply, the intimacy unfamiliar.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, letting him go when the train came to a stop.

  Instead of replying, he stormed out of the door, expecting me to follow. Which I did, but I didn’t break my back to keep up with him. We were at London Bridge; I could always flash to his side if I lost him.

  Watching his frame as he suddenly paced his footsteps, I ran my gaze over the hair on the back of his head. It was short, cropped in at the back and sides, but longer on top. The mousey colour was common in England, but I had rarely been attracted to anyone with it. Dark hair, like mine, had always been my hubba hubba kind of man.

  His question about the witch and warlock thing was swirling in my head. Could I be both?

  A commotion up the stairs made Gerard start to run. Picking up the pace, I jogged up the steps and followed him through the bustling crowd. This station would never be quiet.

  “Gerard,” I called, catching up to him as he joined a small group gathered by the ticket office.

  “No!” a female voice screamed. “Leave me alone!”

  Bending low, I slunk between the people who were watching whatever was going on in the middle of the circle. Shoving my way out, I came face to face with a woman who was handcuffed, rolling around on the floor. Two policemen were trying to get hold of her, but every time they managed to get close, she dodged them. Using magic. Great.

  “Okay, everyone,” Gerard shouted, waving some kind of wallet. “There’s nothing to see here.”

  The people moved, their automatic reaction to get away from the man who looked official. His presence was enough to make anyone listen to him.

  Crouching near the witch, I indicated for the policemen to move. Something in the way I looked must have convinced them that I was with Gerard. Good man.

  As they raised their hands and went to control the crowd, I stayed where I was, not trying to get the witch to stop flashing across the floor. Eventually she realised that she was no longer under threat and went still.

  Her white hair was matted, the strands icky with a brown red colour. She wore a torn dirty grey dress, her feet bare. The bottom of them were layered with mud and blood. She had been running somewhere, probably not in London.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered as I heard Gerard talking to the police. “I’m here to help you.”

  Her head jerked up, her dark gaze boring into mine. Her mouth was open, spittle hanging from one side. Tears formed, dripping over her eyelids as she inhaled sharply. The rise and fall of her back told me to stay away, to let her relax from her anxiety. I knew what it felt like to be cornered when you were vulnerable. Not nice.

  “What’s your name?” I tried, not hopeful for a reply.

  “You’re…not a witch...are you?” Her voice was light, almost high pitched.

  Biting the inside of my mouth, I stopped myself from replying with my normal response. Which was to get lost. However, I was an agent now. Time to be professional.

  “I am a witch,” I said, ignoring Gerard as he came to stand behind me. “I work for the Hunted Witch Agency and we’re investigating various kidnappings of the witch community.”

  Gerard went to bend down beside me, but the witch’s eyes grew wider, her hands preparing to flash herself away.

  Glaring at him, I pushed him back, his solid body not really moving until I raised my eyebrows at him. Understanding that I wanted him to let me handle it, he did as I had indicated, getting to his feet.

  “I’m… I was…kidnapped.” Her swallow was audible, her eyes tracing those around us.

  Keeping my voice low and steady, I kept talking to her. “How did you become free?”

  If I tried to move her straight away, she would freak out. It was better to make her feel completely comfortable with me.

  Licking her lips, the girl quickly wiped the spit from around her mouth. Her face screwed up in disgust when her hand brushed the tips of her hair. “I escaped. But, I can’t remember much.”

  “Okay, well, will you let me take you to our headquarters? You can have a bath and food, if you’re hungry.”

  Her eyes lit up, her fear dissipating at the idea of getting a good meal. A girl after my own heart. Food was soothing for the soul. In fact, my stomach rumbled loudly, alerting me to its annoyance that I hadn’t eaten breakfast. “Maybe I can join you?”

  The corner of her lip lifted ever so gently into her cheek. She was roughly the same age as me, but trauma was written all over her body. As she moved to sit, the grubby sleeves of her dress rose up, revealing black and blue bruises. What were the witches doing to these people?

  My stomach flipped as she limped into a stand. She managed to right herself before she fell, but she wobbled precariously.

  “Let’s go into that office there so I can whisk you back to the Hunted Witch Agency. Are you okay with that?”

  Looking over my shoulder, I raised my eyebrows at Gerard. He had his arms crossed over his chest, his face absent of expression. Nodding once, he moved around to go before us.

  Looking back at the victim, I offered my hand. She took it gingerly, leaning on me as I placed an arm around her waist.

  “What do you fancy for breakfast?” I asked as we walked awkwardly into the guard’s office.

  They cleared out as soon as Gerard ordered them to. The door closed behind us, leaving us alone. The tension in the girl’s muscles were tight, not relaxing even with my support.

  “Just toast and tea,” her small voice replied. “Please, get me out of here.”

  Without hesitation, I closed my eyes and whispered the transportation spell. Nothing happened. Gerard’s forehead furrowed, his bafflement as strong as mine. I could feel my witch magic sizzling in me, but it wasn’t working. That was twice now.

  I was about to try again when a loud smash made us drop to the ground. Great, the glass in the office had shattered to pieces.

  “They’re here,” the girl said, her voice reaching an even higher pitch. “They’re going to kill me.”

  Taking her hand, I made her stay low as I pulled her towards another door. Whoever was trying to attack was in the main station, our only exit.

  “Go through here,” I said, my heartrate decreasing slightly when I opened the door to reveal the back exit to a small private corridor. “Go into that room there.”

  Pointing at another office, I forced her through the door. Luckily, there was no one inside. I had to help Gerard with the attackers. Any passengers that were caught in the crossfire would be collateral damage, meaning we had to try and make sure no one could see exactly what was happening. Illusion spells had been my best friend re
cently.

  “I’ll hide,” she said, patting my arm. “Please, kill them!”

  Nodding without saying anything else, I prayed to Mother Nature that she would stay exactly where I had left her. If she disappeared, an important witness would be lost. And so would my job.

  Diving back into the office, I stayed low as I heard shouting out the front. Gerard was no longer there, obviously going to confront those who had tried to shoot us down.

  No physical magic had been used. Picking up a piece of glass as I came to the door, I detected witch magic. Was it the people who had taken the girl in the first place?

  “Devon,” Gerard shouted. “I could use a little help.”

  Checking if the way was clear, I came into the main terminal. Humans were gone, the police hopefully evacuating them as soon as the threat had become clear. Bags and shoes were abandoned where panic had set in. That wasn’t such a bad thing.

  “What’s happening?” I asked Gerard as I came closer to him.

  He was standing, his arms high in the air, his face contorted. Other than him, the place was empty. What was he fighting against?

  “There…” He huffed, pointing at a shadow in the corner by the ticket booth. “She’s…”

  Whispering an uncloaking spell, I gasped when I saw the flaming fire. It filled the whole room, its flames buffering up against the wall of protection that Gerard was holding. Shit.

  “Inviseque.” Casting a cloaking spell on myself, I smiled when it worked. For some reason, I was able to pull some spells off.

  Putting a hand on Gerard’s arm to let him know that I was still there, I whispered to him. “I’m going to go and get them.”

  He tried to grunt a refusal, but it was too late. I was already slipping through his wall, my insides almost ripping out of my body as the pressure pulled me back. My breath was sucked out of me from the pain. I didn’t give up.

  Finally thrusting through, I gasped as hard as I could, filling my lungs with air. At the same time, my sights were on the shadow in the corner. The person was standing there, not really moving. The spell that covered them didn’t make them completely invisible, which meant they wanted us to know that they were there. How intriguing.