A Witch Called Red: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Red Witch Chronicles 1)

by Sami Valentine

  "You won’t get ahold of him." Red coughed and tried to not think about the curls of smoke that had risen from the silver noose around Quinn's neck. "He was captured. I don't even know if he’s still alive."

  "The fuck? By who?" Callaway tipped her head up and rubbed her eyes. She cursed again.

  Red’s words came out in a panicked spurt. "I know which vampire is responsible for all these murders. The problem is, he's already taking over the city." She couldn’t stop her rambling rush as her voice pitched higher. "Michel manipulated the supreme master... if she’s still the supreme master... I don't know. It's all happening so fast. Quinn is locked up. Lucas is probably next." She put her head in her hands. "I tried to call him, but they took my phone. And my partner... He was bitten, and now I don't know what’s going on."

  "Slow down. I'm not following." Callaway held up her hand. "What do you mean master of the city?"

  Red took a deep hiccupping breath before launching into a fast, panicked ramble. "Every city has a vampire who controls it all. The big head honcho. LA is run by a souled vampire named Cora Moon, and her right hand is a guy named Michel who has a serious grudge against Lucas for some reason. I don't know how deep it goes, but he must have clout because he was able to get a fake ambulance and managed to make a lot of new minions. Cora was the one who tried to make this a more ‘care, share, and grow’ kind of city. Only she’s losing control. You might have even seen her—beautiful, black, teaches a yoga class in Inglewood?"

  "Oh shit. She’s the hippie who runs a drop-in space, right?"

  "Yup, and now we have a mutiny on our hands."

  "Is that how you got the marks on your neck?"

  "No, that was another vampire. The one that all those murders were pinned on."

  Callaway nodded. "I knew shit was going down. I’m getting orders that don't make sense."

  "Michel runs media relations for the vamps. I wouldn't be surprised if he has connections in the LAPD. Cora bragged that she has men on the inside. Who knows how many have turned coat?"

  Callaway sighed. Her dark eyes narrowed, and she shook her head. "Fuck it. They might take my badge for this but..." She pulled Red's clutch purse out of her jacket. "I got the rundown from the nurse. Your friend’s in a coma. They think he has spinal damage, but they aren’t sure how much.”

  “He’s paralyzed.” Red said the bald truth just to stop Callaway from dancing around it. She looked down and stared at the blood still on her hands.

  Vic’s blood. Vic who loved IPAs, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and baby Jesus. He played the roughneck, but he got up every day to save lives and still tried to get to church on Sundays. He pushed away the comfort of being a Bard in their ivory tower to get his hands dirty with the hunters. He never forgot the mission. He had given her a home when she had nothing, not even a name. Now, he was in a coma with a busted spine. And that was if he recovered, and Michel didn’t kill him first…

  Red leaned her forehead against the wall, hunching forward as the sobs shook her body. Her breath caught in her throat. Mascara dripped into her eyes. She slapped her hand against the wall. “Vic.”

  “Hey.” Callaway turned her around and handed her a tissue. Her voice trembled as she stared at Red. “I know what you’re going through. It’s some fucked up shit, but I have orders to detain you."

  “Fucking fabulous. I’m glad I called you. This is why people like firemen more!” She grabbed the tissue and blotted her eyes. Anger took the edge off her grief.

  “But I’m not.” Callaway held out Red’s purse. “Take this.”

  Red blinked at Callaway. All her mind could do was reverberate with the understanding that Vic was in a coma. She barely recognized her own purse. "What’re you doing?"

  "I’m letting you go. Find Quinn, and get him out. If they have men in my department, I’m going to need a dead man of my own. He’s the only one I can trust."

  "What can I do?" Red dug out Kristoff’s fancy silk handkerchief. She blew her nose and then tossed her hands up. Raw and ragged, her voice cut like a knife even to her own ears.

  "I don't know. Aren't you like a goblin or a fairy or something mystical like that?"

  "If I was, do you think my partner would be lying in a hospital bed right now?” Red said through gritted teeth. She couldn’t even light a candle with her magic. “What part of my story says that I can do shit?"

  "Listen to me. You're freaking out now, but this is the real shit going down. I have to hold it down here and try to catch the fallout. I need someone ready to take them on and get our guy out."

  "It's hopeless." Red glanced away, failure dragging her neck down, her eyes hot from frustrated tears.

  "Quitting on me? What part of this night says quitting is an option?” Callaway put her hand on her hip. “They already have you. They have your partner. Are you going to just wait for this Michel guy to kill you? For him to eat up this city?” Callaway studied her, then softened her voice. “Listen, I’m not risking my badge because this is going to be easy. I’m doing this because it needs to be done. I already know we have vampires tugging the strings, and I’m ready for it.” She walked closer to Red and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Not because there’s hope but because we have a city full of people who have no idea, and they are gonna be bled dry. We’ve had murders, we’ve had drainings, but it’s been kicked up for the last few months. If that’s because this guy is making his move, then we need to stop him. I can't do it alone."

  Red hated the hot tears that rolled down her cheeks. "But my partner... I’ve only been hunting them a year. I can't do it alone. Vic could be dying up there."

  Callaway squeezed her shoulder. "Hey, I’ve had a partner die on me. Antonio Diaz was the one who taught me what this freaky shit was. I found him drained in his own apartment, and the only witness was a crackhead who only could say that a fucking pirate did it. I had nothing and no one, but I kept going. Quinn did me some favors, and now I’m doing him one. If Quinn is your friend… If your partner was awake, what would he do? What would he say?"

  Red stared at Callaway. "He'd tell me to suck it up, buttercup and tell me to keep fighting because there were people on the line."

  "Well, buttercup, what are you going to do?"

  Red took her purse and opened it. A stake lay next to her phone and the gray bite mold. She pulled out the stake and put it in her waistline. "Keep fighting."

  “That’s it, girl. One foot in front of the other. It’s the only way.”

  Taking the bite mold of out the purse, she handed it to Callaway. “Take this. It’s Delilah’s real bite mold. Michel must have switched up her file. For a guy with one working eye, he’s seen to everything.”

  “One eye?” Callaway furrowed her brow.

  “Yeah, he has an eyepatch…” Red trailed off and looked up. “Your partner.”

  “Michel is the bastard’s name?” A hard gleam flashed in Callaway’s eyes. “Get your phone out.”

  Red nodded, wanting to take a step back from the growing anger radiating from Callaway, but she only took out her phone.

  Callaway rattled off her phone number for Red to type into her phone. "Tell me when you have Quinn out. I'll try to protect your friend."

  Red shook her head. "They can send someone to get him." She scrolled through her phone and hit the last number in her book. "I know what you want to do, but you need to get out of here. If Michel is going to take over the city, he’ll need more minions. We need people at the morgues in case he has minions rising tonight."

  Callaway looked away. The determination turned her pretty young features old and grim.

  Red held the warning lingering on her tongue. She couldn’t say she wouldn’t have the same look if Vic died. She waited for the phone to ring.

  "Sheila Jones, Reaper and Smith."

  "Sheila, I don't know if this is in your wheelhouse, but I have my partner at the Hollywood Hospital. He’s listed under Vic Constantine. He needs to be moved somewhere secure, private, and guarded."

>   "I can have medics in position to move him in ten minutes. The code is pineapple."

  "That’ll do." Red hung up. "There should be people from Reaper and Smith coming to get him."

  Callaway raised her eyebrows. "Reaper and Smith? Maybe you don't have powers, but you must have deep pockets."

  "It's a recent thing." Red shrugged self-consciously.

  "Get out of here before I change my mind. Your friend is in 2208." Detective Callaway frowned at her and pulled a ponytail holder from her pocket and tossed it at Red. "Do something with your hair and look less shady."

  Red followed her out of the room, putting her hair up, and turned down the hallway behind the dark-skinned detective. While Callaway distracted the nurses at the desk, Red slunk past them through the double doors Vic had been wheeled through earlier.

  Red trotted down the hallway and took an elevator up. There was no way she could leave without seeing Vic. She didn't know if she would ever see him again. She needed to know if the medics would come. Again, she couldn't believe that the freaky bank could do this, but Sheila had bragged that they put the special in special accounts. Vic said they specialized in paranormal accounts, but she could only hope they were neutral when it came to vampire conflicts.

  Red got out of the elevator. The hallway buzzed with activity. Another stretcher with a woman bleeding from the neck passed by, nurses and doctors shouting orders with the same pensive look on all their faces.

  Red slipped into room 2208 and found it dark. Only the glow of the heart monitor illuminated Vic’s face. She put her hand on his and squeezed. "I don't know if I’ll see you again, but you'll get out of here. If I can, I'll try to save your Batman, Vic."

  She hung her head. Tears in her eyes, she sniffed, feeling the weight of her uselessness. She tried to summon up that well of energy inside of her. That warmth of energy and magic that sparked within her like a neon sign on the fritz. But she felt nothing but fear. The shaman in Nevada had said that she had power. Red felt powerlessness.

  There was a knock on the door, and Detective Callaway popped her head in. "Those medics are here. Reaper and Smith. You're rolling in deep, girl, let's hope you can get yourself out."

  "I’m trying my best."

  "Your best is getting the fuck out of here." The Detective’s words were harsh, but her tone held the compassion of one who had known loss.

  Red nodded and left the room. She passed by two medics in matching blue windbreakers. "Reaper and Smith?"

  One nodded. "Pineapple."

  "2208. Get him..." Red looked over the nurses’ station to see two pale men in police uniforms. They were too handsome to be regular cops and too serious to be strippers. She’d seen them before outside Moon Enterprises. Neither were breathing, but the East Asian-looking one had a tinge of worry in his brown eyes when he looked over at his blonde partner.

  Red felt her earlier panic drain away as the mission took over her focus. She finally had something to do. "Don't trust any cops."

  "Never do," the dark-skinned medic said. "Coming with? We’re at the back entrance."

  "I'll meet you." Red stopped walking and leaned against the wall, trying to find a way to get past the vampires in police clothing.

  They seemed ready to block off the hallway.

  "Go. I’ll clear the way for you." Once the medics passed her, she stepped forward to meet the eye of the undead blond cop.

  He checked her over, thin lips disappearing into a line. The merciless eyes of a demon stared back at her. He nodded to his partner.

  Red ducked into a stairwell and started trotting down the steps, her purse bouncing against her side. She felt the eyes on her back. She heard the steps behind her, and started to run down the stairs, pulling the stake out of her waistband.

  "Stop! Police." The voice echoed in the stairwell. His tone was lazy with a gleeful note in it. He sounded hopeful that she would run. There was no soul behind that voice.

  Red felt the motion behind her and turned with her stake raised.

  "A hunter. It's been a while since I’ve tangled with one of you." The blond vampire smiled as he tipped his police hat up. He wasn't afraid of her or her stake. "Let's dance then before Chang spoils my fun."

  Red saw his green eyes on the stake. "How long have you been working against Cora?"

  "What?" The shock took the arrogance off his face.

  She smiled before head-butting him. Her head rang, but her hand rocketed to his chest, impaling him on the stake. She pushed him over the rail.

  The vampire dropped over the edge with a shout.

  Red ran back up the stairs to a door into a quiet hallway and ducked into an open elevator. Fuck, she was off her game. She had missed the heart and probably only hit a lung. She rubbed her aching forehead between floors. That was going to bruise.

  Rushing from the opening doors, she slowed to a normal pace before asking a passing orderly where the exit was. She slunk out of the hospital and around the back.

  The unmarked ambulance waited, back door open with Vic laying inside, still and silent.

  The medics looked up before the dark-skinned one hopped out. His partner closed the door. "Come on!"

  Red saw the vampires sprinting toward her. Time slowed for a moment as she realized this was the end.

  But it didn’t need to be the end for both of them.

  Vic had saved her life more than once. Gave her one. It was time for her to return the favor.

  She hit the back of the ambulance. "Go now!" She slapped the back door again, and it sped away.

  The vampires in uniform raised their guns.

  Chang said, "You're coming with us."

  Red raised her hands. "Aren't you going to read me my rights, officer?"

  "You have the right to die when Cora says you do." The blond said as he came toward her with the gun raised.

  Chang sprinted to pull her hands behind her back. His hands were gentle even as he handcuffed her. “We’ll get this sorted out. Just cooperate and you’ll be fine.”

  Gulping, Red licked her lips. None of this was fine. This was the end.

  Callaway should have found another hunter to rely on.

  Her shoulders sagged. She let herself be led to the waiting unmarked white sedan parked illegally on the red-painted curb next to the hospital back entrance. She tilted her head to show off Kristoff’s bite. Human laws didn’t apply, but she could hope that vampire laws still did. “So, when do I get my phone call? I got to check in with Kristoff Novak. Claimed human and all that.”

  “Shut up.” The blonde vampire said as he pushed her head down to force her into the back seat. “You have no rights for me to read.”

  Chang sent a inscrutable side eyed glance at his partner as he broke the chain of her purse delicately and removed it from her shoulder, then closed the door. He climbed into the passenger’s side.

  Red watched the two vampires, noticing that that neither had a reflection in the darkened rearview mirror.

  “Let’s get her back to headquarters in Inglewood quick,” Chang said as he pulled out his phone to send a quick text. “Cora will want to make sure the Bards know their hunter is secure.”

  “The little bitch staked me. I say we—”

  “Walk it off, man. We have a job to do.” Chang fiddled with the radio until he landed on a techno song.

  “Put on something good. Let’s get some AC/DC.”

  “Get with the now, Fuchs. Listen to something from this century.”

  “This century sucks.”

  Red could feel Fuchs’s gaze on her, even if she couldn’t see his stare in the rearview mirror. The two vampires worked together with the familiarity of old colleagues, but the silence curdled like old milk. She tested the handcuffs uselessly as she stared out the window, wondering if the streets of Los Angeles would be the last thing she saw. She knew Vic was out there somewhere, and Lucas too. Would they ever know what happened to her?

  Looking straight ahead, she focused on studying the vamp
ires in the front.

  Unseen, two masters pulled the strings in the car. Whose power would win out?

  Callaway had said quitting wasn’t an option. From where Red was sitting, defeat certainly was. Ever since Vic had found her unconscious on the banks of Coyote Creek, she knew she had been running on borrowed time.

  Time was up.