Magically Bound_An Urban Fantasy Novel

by Rachel Medhurst

  As Kurt was about to kick the door open, I caught movement just to the side of the house. Tapping Gerard’s arm, I ran towards the left, my feet kicking up the tiny stones that made up the garden path. Gerard’s footsteps followed me as I rounded the corner, my gaze landing on the retreating back of a man who was trying to escape.

  A line of trees made up the fence to the next property, blocking his quick exit. He ducked behind the back of the house before I could conjure any magic.

  Overtaking me, Gerard pumped his muscular arms. The tattoos almost winked at me as he pulled ahead. He was going to get to the man before me, which was fine, we were a team.

  Tracing his path, we both swung round the corner of the house. The man we chased was running across the patio, beside the pool.

  Coming to a stop, Gerard raised his hands and shouted a spell to freeze him. It worked. Our enemy became completely still, a shout of frustration escaping his mouth. He was short, his shoulders broad. He wore smart suit trousers and a white shirt. His dark hair was slicked back against his head.

  Although I couldn’t see his face, the olive of his skin was testament to it being Luis Camos. Justina would be happy to see him. Just so she could wipe the floor with him.

  Checking around us, we both approached the frozen man. Reaching out, Gerard was about to take hold of him when he threw his arm back. He had broken free of the spell. His fist came into contact with Gerard’s jaw. Grunting, my partner lashed out, his own punch landing on the back of Luis’ head.

  “Stay out of it.” Gerard stood in front of me.

  The man glanced in my direction, his gaze softening as his eyebrows rose. “You’re pretty.”

  His dark eyes were creepy, almost trying to devour me. I shuddered, happy to allow Gerard to knock him out. I could see why some women might fall for his charm, but there was no way I would ever go near him. How had Justina been roped in?

  His distraction cost him. Gerard threw himself at the Italian, his body weight sending them both flying into the pool. Oh great, a fight in water. Just what every agent needed.

  “Erm.” I stayed by the side of the pool, waiting for them to surface.

  They didn’t. Underneath the water, they thrashed, obviously continuing their spat. That wasn’t a good thing. If either of them drowned, Justina would go mad.

  My skin prickled at the idea of Gerard dying. No, I wouldn’t let it happen.

  I was about to launch myself into the pool when they both came up. Gerard heaved air into his lungs, but Luis didn’t. His eyes were closed, his body floating.

  “What happened?” I shouted, flapping my arms.

  Heaving Luis to the side of the pool, Gerard pushed him onto the patio. I tugged the man’s shirt, helping my partner get him on solid ground. Pulling himself out, Gerard stared down at the witch he’d just killed.

  “I just earned myself a new tattoo. Number sixty four.” His tone was grim, not impressed.

  In fact, he never spoke with achievement when he talked about his tattoos. Why was he torturing himself so much?

  “Justina’s going to kill you.” I bent down to check Luis’ pulse.

  He was definitely dead. Gerard must have held him down until water entered his lungs. What a way to die. Shuddering, I stood at the same time as Kurt called us from an open pair of French windows.

  “You better get in here,” he called. “Is that Luis Camos?”

  Nodding, Gerard went over, his sopping clothes dripping on the floor. “Yeah, we got into a bit of a fight.”

  Leaving the dead witch on the ground, I went into the house behind my partner. The fight might have just killed our biggest lead to finding the main ringleaders of the slave trade. Did he mean to kill him? Or, was it an accident?

  The inside of the building was just as lovely as the outside. Tall ceilings with big bay windows greeted me as I stared at the elegance. I had never seen such a beautiful place. No wonder Mayfair was one of the most expensive places to live.

  “Justina’s searching upstairs. There’s one more floor at the very top, I need you to go up there.” Kurt pursed his lips at Gerard, his distaste evident in his stare.

  We had only been there for five minutes and our main suspect was rendered useless. I hoped they didn’t pin it on me, I was having enough trouble with my reputation already.

  “You’re dripping all over the shagpile, darling,” I said to Gerard as I went out into the hallway to find the stairs.

  Kurt took my elbow, indicating a wooden door, hidden under the main stairs. I followed him, smiling to myself when he opened it to reveal another set of steps. Ah, he thought I wasn’t worthy enough to go up the grand staircase, I had to use the workers’ stairs.

  Gerard shoved past me, a gun held up, ready to shoot the enemy. His harsh demeanour was perfect for the job. His professionalism was something I needed to take note of. Not one ounce of emotion showed on his face. He was calm, steady, and ready to do what he was there to do.

  The fourth floor was for the staff, which meant there would be two different access points. The stairs at the front of the house and more in the kitchen. Well, that’s what the movies showed, anyway.

  Kurt left us to it, going back to double check the ground floor and deal with Luis. He seemed pretty confident that no other threat was in the house, otherwise he would be on high alert. Which he wasn’t.

  “He must have been hiding something here,” I whispered.

  My footsteps were light, not making a sound. I wasn’t as stone cold as Gerard, but watching him made me want to be better. He made me want to be a stronger agent.

  He didn’t reply as we finally got to the top. A small door was closed, blocking our access. My breath was heavy as I leant over and rested my hands on my thighs. It was a lot of stairs to climb. And, yet, I quickly rose when Gerard opened the door silently, checking the hallway before he entered.

  The house was old. It would’ve been built in the early twentieth century. My history buff turned on as we wandered down the dull hallway, passing open doors. Quick checks confirmed no activity in many of the servants’ quarters.

  Putting his finger to his lips when a groan rent the air, Gerard gestured to the only closed door. Tiptoeing, I stuck right behind him as he approached. His chest rose as he inhaled, ready to see what was going on. Kicking his leg out, he thundered into the room, his gun extended in front of him.

  Catching the door as it rebounded off the wall, I followed, stopping dead when I saw what was inside.

  Gerard had lowered his gun, his eyes staring at the rows of beds. There were at least twenty beds in the long room, every single one of them contained a witch. They were mostly woman, but a couple of men were at the other end.

  Covering my mouth when the stench of unwashed bodies reached me, I tried not to retch. They were tied to the beds, their arms and legs in leather bounds. Every single one of them had one arm stretched out to the side, placed on top of a crystal ball. A cannula was in their arm, a slow drip of blood filtering into a bag that hung beside the bed.

  The crystal balls were alight with different colours. A spell to detect whether the magic from the witch was being collected. Going back out into the hallway, I bent over and finally retched. Afraid that I was going to puke, I took a deep breath to steady myself. How could those animals treat people that way?

  “Devon, are you okay?” Gerard called from inside the room.

  Straightening, I composed myself before going back in. Walking straight to the bedside of one of the girls, I untied her as she started to cry. Tears ran down her cheek as her now free hand clung to my arm.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Using his phone, Gerard told Kurt what we had found. He frowned when he hung up, glancing at me. Waving an arm, he indicated for me to stop what I was doing.

  “He said to leave them as they are. We need evidence for the courts.”

  My eyes bulged. Evidence? Court? The people who had carried out the kidnapping atrocity would be killed way befor
e they got a chance to defend themselves, surely?

  Moving out of the way, I waited as Gerard took photos on his phone. Once he had finished, he bit his lip, a frown marring his face. It was the first sign of discomfort he had shown.

  “Okay, everyone, you’re safe now. We’re from the Hunted Witch Agency. We’re here to help you. Please, stay still while we come round.”

  As soon as he’d finished speaking, I went back to untying the person in the next bed. Every single one of them cried as I released them, telling them to stay still for now.

  “Oh my god,” Justina exclaimed as she came in, Kurt close behind her.

  For the first time since I had met her, the leader of the agency wobbled. Her arm went out, caught by Kurt as she almost fainted. He held her tightly, his support the only thing that kept her standing.

  It was no wonder she was reacting so fiercely. If it wasn’t for her dad, she would have had the same experience as all the poor witches in the room.

  “We don’t have the capacity to care for all these people,” Kurt said. “The police are going to have to help us with their secret hospital.”

  My eyes filled with tears as I came to the next bed. The crystal ball beside her was glowing brightly, leaving her skin pale, sallow. The girl’s eyes were closed, her chest not moving. They had drained her until she’d died.

  “Belinda?” the girl in the next bed said quietly. “They’re here. I told you someone would rescue us.”

  The lump in my throat expanded when she tried to reach out for her friend. They had been through hell and back, and yet, her world was about to crumble even more.

  Going to her, I took her outstretched hand. She looked at me, the bags under her eyes black, her lips chapped. “What’s your name?” I asked, trying my hardest not to let my own emotion show.

  There were sounds behind me as the others started to help release the witches. Justina was on the phone to the police, explaining the situation. She almost shouted that she wouldn’t leave the witches where they were so they could collect forensic evidence. What was it with the sick bastards?

  “I’m Tilly.” The witch must have been a teen, only just out of adolescence.

  Squeezing her hand, I let go to take the binds off. They all needed food and water. And, a good wash.

  “She’s dead, isn’t she?” Her whispered words pierced my heart.

  Tears trickled down my face as Gerard announced two more bodies. We had managed to save seventeen of them, but it didn’t cushion the blow.

  “We’ve been searching for you,” I said. “Trying to find the people responsible.”

  Her gaze connected to mine, her limbs shaking as she pushed herself into a sit. Glancing at the crystal ball beside her, she bit her lip.

  “That’s the thing,” she said as her eyes filled with unshed tears. “You’ll never find them. They’re evil. They’re clever. And, they won’t stop until they destroy the warlocks.”

  Chapter 17

  “Have you seen this?” Gerard came over as I surveyed my flat. “It’s a spell that Justina found at the house in Mayfair.”

  Taking his phone, I stared at the picture that our boss had just sent him. No, that looked…

  Glancing up at the reframed page from my mother’s grimoire, I went numb. The picture on the phone showed an ancient page with the exact same proportions and writing style as the one that currently hung on my wall.

  Clearing his throat, Gerard read Justina’s text. “It’s a destruction spell. One that can wipe out a whole species. The witches would’ve used it to kill off some of the animal species that threatened to kill us off way back.”

  Gerard’s gaze followed mine when I looked at the frame again, his eyes widening as his brain made the connection between my spell and the one at the Mayfair mansion.

  “That’s from my mother’s book,” I said, going into the kitchen.

  Grabbing a plastic bag, I came back into the room. Snatching up the trinkets and witchy items, I shoved them in. I was sick of seeing everything all over the place, especially when the agents had cleaned the rest of the flat. Literally. They had scrubbed my kitchen sides, hoovered my carpets. It was embarrassing to think that I needed someone else to clean my home. So, I’d just get rid of everything so I wouldn’t need to be so untidy anymore.

  “What are you doing?” Gerard took hold of my arm as I reached out to pick up my mother’s tarot cards. “You can’t throw your life away.”

  “That’s the problem,” I said, dropping the bag on the floor and holding my hands to the side. “This isn’t my life. This was my mother’s life. I can’t keep living my life for others, I have to take responsibility for me. I have to… grow up.”

  Taking my arms, Gerard pulled me to face him. Looking down into my eyes, he watched me, his green iris’ delving. Swallowing, I tried to pull away, wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.

  “You always need to be the best. You like showing off your magic because you’re an incredible warlock.” He held me firm when I tugged my arms. “But…you’ve got no further to go on learning that magic. Have you mastered your witchery as well as you have your warlock side?”

  For centuries, warlocks were the bad guys. The ones that other magical creatures avoided. So, why had I found the energy of the magic so much easier to master?

  “I’m not pure enough to be a witch,” I whispered as I stared at him.

  His square jaw clenched, his eyes flicking away before they came back. His fingers loosened their hold, stroking down my arms. My breath sucked in as he suddenly lowered his head, his lips pressing lightly against mine. Asking for permission. Begging me to respond.

  The air in my lungs escaped as I pushed my lips against his. A drum played in my chest as his arms came around me, his mouth opening slightly to kiss me deeper. My eyes fluttered closed as energy hummed through us. His magic filtered into me, mixing with mine. It was as if he was stroking the whole inside of my body with his essence.

  “Gerard,” I whispered when he lifted his head to breathe. “What are we doing?”

  Dropping his forehead to mine, he chuckled, the deep noise vibrating through me. Our chests rose and fell as we gazed into each other’s eyes.

  “I don’t know. This isn’t exactly the right time. And, you know, we’re technically not allowed to do this because you’re not a full witch.”

  He was right. I was having a meltdown about my heritage and he had kissed me. His lips were as hot as I’d imagined. And, maybe I could just…. No, Devon, it was not a good idea to run my hands down his arse to check if it was as tight as it looked.

  “Okay, Hottie Mac-Kissy, what the hell do we do now?”

  A smile crossed our lips at the same time. If only I wasn’t having a mid-twenties crisis, I would certainly be up for spending the afternoon doing something totally inappropriate with my partner.

  Letting me go, Gerard went over to Kingsley’s cage. “I’m sorry you had to see that, fella.”

  “Hey!” I exclaimed, throwing a cushion at his head.

  Catching it, he threw it back, laughing when it missed me and went straight over my head, knocking the framed spell. The rattle of the picture brought me back to reality. We had a job to do. It had been three days since the witches had been taken to a secret hospital. All of them were recovering well, although it would be hard to tell if any of them would regain their full power. They had been drained pretty hard.

  “Why would the leaders of the witch slave trade have one of your mother’s spells?” Gerard had also switched back into agent mode.

  It was best that we forgot about our little tryst until we had found our culprits. And, until I had sorted out my screwed up head.

  Slumping on the sofa, I chewed my bottom lip. My mother hadn’t always fitted in with her coven, and yet, when the others had spoken of her, it was with a lot of respect. She was considered aristocratic in the witch world, which was why they hadn’t thrown me out straight away.

  “She’s always had powerful spell
s, she was a descendant from one of the original witch bloodlines. So, it makes sense that she had grimoires with spells that were a little out there. But, I have no idea how someone got hold of that particular spell.”

  Before Gerard could answer, my phone burst into noise. Swiping it from the coffee table, I answered straight away. “Maxwell, what a pleasant surprise,” I crowed.

  “You just texted me ten minutes ago to ask me to call you, darling.”

  Laughing, I hugged my knees to my chest as I contemplated what I was about to do. I had tossed and turned for the last three nights, wondering if I could come up with the best course of action. My life was split in half right now. By being neither a witch, nor a warlock, I was struggling with my own identity. Which was getting in the way of my work.

  “Ah, see? I have to apologise. I’m going through a mid-twenties crisis.”

  His light chuckle lifted my mood. For about three seconds. It was all about to go downhill from there.

  Gerard was fussing with Kingsley, his head turned slightly away, but he was still listening. I could tell by the way he glanced at me over his shoulder every few minutes.

  “I don’t mean to sound rude, but what do you want? I’ve just got a delivery and somehow persuaded the handsome delivery man to stay.”

  Biting my tongue on my hilarity, I shook my head when Gerard raised his eyebrows. Laughing at the warlock’s antics wouldn’t help my position.

  “Okay, turn off your thoughts of…that…for a moment please, I have something serious to say.”

  The energy that came down the phone changed, the small intake of breath barely audible. And yet, I hesitated.

  “I’ve made my choice.” Swirling my fingers, I created a small ball of fire. “You…you will be the new leader of the warlocks from now on. Your coven is in grave danger and you can protect it.”

  The silence was deafening. Gerard was staring at me, his mouth open. Kingsley was sitting on his shoulder, watching me. His little nose twitched, and for some reason, just that little gesture made tears pop into my eyes.