Read A Witch's Fury Online

Authors: Kim Schubert

Tags: #vampires, #witches, #fae, #succubus, #shape shifters, #cursing, #romance sex, #heroine action, #mage and magic, #guardian of the children

A Witch's Fury (10 page)

BOOK: A Witch's Fury
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I watched with fucking tears in my eyes,
jealous.

Growling, I opened the door, not able to wait
any longer.

“Yeah, me too. I’ll call you soon,” Jerry
finished up quickly before looking my way.

I should have asked about Mark, but I didn’t,
as I slammed myself into the bathroom to shower.

Anger, rage, and self-loathing hit my shields
with force. I showered and dressed quickly before emerging from the
bathroom.

Jerry was dressed professionally compared to
my jeans and black shirt. His dress pants and white button down
were immaculately pressed after being stowed for so long.

“Magic iron?” I asked gruffly, breaking the
silence between us.

He smiled, and for at least a few moments the
young, carefree Jerry I had first met was back. “I’ll never
tell.”

I felt the corner of my lip twitch in a smile
in spite of myself.

“So, you want to talk about anything?” he
asked as we headed to the free breakfast before leaving.

“Don’t eat if you won’t be able to handle
what is coming next. I’m not cleaning puke off my shoes.” I leaned
back against the elevator wall.

He looked at me sideways, exiting into the
lobby.

“I’m going to throw my bag into the car,” I
added. He nodded at me before heading to breakfast.

I wasn’t attached to the things in the bag,
but I didn’t want to go shopping again.

Finally presented with the chance to get some
much needed fuel, I loaded my plate full of carbs and a few items
of fruit.

I sat down next to Jerry, whose own plate was
far more respectable with bacon and a bagel.

“Why don’t you eat meat, Olie?” he asked out
of idle curiosity.

I could brush it off, but I decided a topic
change was exactly what my brain needed, less some key details
about Selena.

“When I was five I was given a pet puppy. I
named her Beth. She slept with me, ran with me, ate what I ate, and
I loved her. She was a bright spot in my otherwise pathetic
existence.”

I drained my orange juice before my next
statement. “The people who raised me stopped feeding me until I
killed and ate her. I held off for days but survival is a hard
instinct to override.” At least it was then. If I had known what my
future held, I might have just succumbed to starvation.

Jerry swallowed his bacon with a disgusted
look before pushing his plate away. “What kind of dog was she?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What happened to the people who raised you?”
His disgust was replaced by anger.

“I killed them, all of them.” I had been
sharing too much of my past with too many. Blake was a mistake I
wouldn’t make again, on so many levels.

Jerry nodded and I stood, throwing my trash
away. “If you are going to throw up, do it here.”

He shook his head, losing the carefree youth,
as the hardened mage took his place. “I’m good.”

“How’s Mark?” I asked as we exited into the
early morning light.

Dammit to hell I felt bad for walking in.

His smile made me glad I had asked. “Good,
really good.”

I nodded. “You’d make an excellent parent,” I
offered.

He blew out a breath as we climbed into the
SUV. “I don’t want to put an innocent life in danger because of who
I am and what I’ve done.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I think you are
overreaching on your enemies.”

He smiled, but it was strained. “Maybe.”


We arrived at the cemetery twenty minutes
later, and it was a zoo.

“Holy fucking hell,” Jerry whispered,
covering his nose as we exited the SUV. The stench of death, decay,
and rotting bodies assaulted our noses.

I raised an eyebrow at him, trying to judge
if he was going to puke. Shaking his head, he pulled it
together.

“I’m good,” he croaked out.

Turning back to the scene in front of me, I
walked toward the yellow crime scene tape and a plainclothes
officer in a tweed suit.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Detective
Miller.”

He turned dark eyes, sizing me up before
returning his gaze to my sea green ones. I had already given him
the once over upon approaching.

“Who’s asking?”

“Your fairy godmother.”

He grunted, “Olivia, Executioner from the
Council.” Nodding, he held the yellow tape up so Jerry and I could
cross under.

“I’m Miller.” He turned, looking over the
cemetery. His bewilderment was evident.

“Can you take me through it from the
beginning?” I asked.

He nodded, about to begin when a large
officer bellowed at us.

“Whoa Miller, who the hell do you think you
are bringing them in here? This isn’t a damn attraction.” One of
the uniformed guards stopped the gray-haired Miller with a forceful
hand to the chest.

“Back off Daniels,” Miller growled in
response, pushing the hand off and stepping into the giant’s
personal space. “These are the Supernatural Council’s
representatives.”

I moved forward, extending my hand. “Olivia,
Head Executioner.” I loved the way his eyes widened. “This is
Jerry, Head Transporter.”

Jerry quickly shook off his stare of
disbelief at me for assigning him a position as he shook Daniels’s
hand. I wanted to call him Head Mage, but they hadn’t exactly come
out to the public at large. Granted, from the little news I saw,
humans were demanding to know what other species were out
there.

We just weren’t obliging.

Daniels ran a hand over his shaggy hair. “I
apologize. It’s been a long night keeping reporters and civilians
out of here.”

“I can imagine,” I said with a nod. I wish I
had known they were here last night. Talk about wasting time
sleeping.

“The dead just don’t disappear,” Daniels
stated, clearly having a hard time with the situation.

“No,” I agreed, “they don’t.” Even vampires
left dust behind.

“I’m going to take them through the time
line. Since you were first to arrive, do you want to accompany me?”
Miller asked.

Daniels nodded, falling in step with us.

“The caretaker was out here at four in the
morning tending to the lawn, removing trash and such when he found
this.” Miller waved his hand toward the 52 empty graves. I could
imagine his brain was having a hard time processing what he saw:
these graves had been dug
out of
, not into. As Daniels said,
the dead don’t disappear.

“After he recovered from the shock, he heard
chanting and followed it,” Daniels took over seamlessly. “He saw
four women holding hands and chanting in dark robes, with a woman
in white in the middle.”

Jerry’s quick inhale had both men turning to
him. “Does that mean something?” Daniels asked observantly.

Jerry turned to me and I shook my head.
“Let’s get all the facts first,” I advised.

He nodded mutely.

“Let’s see the site of said chanting,” I
asked. Alright, I attempted to ask. It came out as more of a
command.

Both men started to walk as Jerry and I fell
behind a step.

“Olie,” Jerry hissed, infusing his fear and
worry in my name.

“I know,” I answered, annoyed.

Next to a towering stone crypt with the name
Morrison etched into it was a makeshift altar of blue cloth. Upon
it rested incense and a bowl holding something truly rank smelling.
Around the circle were the bodies of three dead witches.

“There’s so much blood,” Jerry whispered,
picking his leg up only to feel his shoe pulling free from the gore
with a sticky sound. That had him gulping down his breakfast.

Crouching down to the bowl I asked, “Do you
have gloves?”

Miller and Daniels both provided me a pair. I
handed one back to Jerry, watching as his dark skin turned slightly
ashen.

“You good?” I asked.

He nodded, giving me a tight-lipped
smile.

I snapped the gloves on and poked around in
the bowl, wishing for a shifters sense of smell as I inhaled
deeply.

Standing up, I handed the bowl to Jerry, not
getting much off it. He repeated what I had done. Moving to the
victims, I rolled the first one to her back. Dark brown locks were
plastered together with her sticky blood. Her face was frozen in
surprise, her throat neatly sliced open. Moving to the others I
found much the same, except that in the case of the last, her face
was frozen in anger. I could almost hear the scream on her pale
lips.

With a groan I stood back up, looking over
the graveyard.

“All the bodies are gone.” It was a
statement, not a question.

“All,” Daniels said, paling slightly.

“How did they move all the bodies?” Miller
asked, with a mix of awe and fear.

Jerry answered after setting the bowl back
down with a grim expression. “Nobody moved the bodies. They walked
off.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I turned to
the pale-faced officers, “We need to speak with the caretaker.” I
removed my gloves, hoping I hadn’t smeared dried blood on my
face.

“Dead bodies do not get up and walk.” Daniels
heavily emphasized each word.

I cast a look at Jerry, who shook his head,
also removing his gloves. Daniels was in way over his head.

“The caretaker, please,” I repeated, about
done being nice. His inability to process reality was not my
problem.

Miller responded, moving away from Daniels,
who just stood there too dumbfounded to move.

Cracking my neck, I scanned the overly bright
day. I should have worn a coat; the sun wasn’t doing much to dispel
the cold here. Miller led us back deeper into the property and
under another yellow police tape line, taking a small, worn path
that we walked down single file. The path opened up into a
flourishing clearing with a full garden in the front yard of the
dwelling.

Our knock on the door was greeted with a
disgruntled, “Enter.”

Miller opened the door and stepped back. “I
need to check on Daniels.”

I nodded, pushing into the quaint home, not
expecting the sight that greeted my eyes.

Intelligent emerald eyes sized me up. He sat
puffing on a pipe in front of a low fire, recognition flaring in
his gaze.

“Executioner,” he greeted me, tipping his
head in respect.

“Have we met before?”

The orange haired leprechaun shook his head,
pulling his blanket firmly around his shoulder. “Nay—though you did
end my third cousin once removed. I’m Fergus, Fergus McLawson.”

His look of contempt had me crossing my arms.
“I’m sure he deserved it.”

The leprechaun spat in the fire. “Aye, that
he did.”

Turning his wrinkled face back to us, he
asked, “What do ye want?”

Jerry stepped forward. “We are trying to
figure out what happened.”

“Bah,” Fergus spat, “ain’t it obvious?”

“It would be, except witches and necromancers
don’t work together,” I answered.

Satisfaction lit Fergus’s eyes. “You know
what the woman in white is?”

“I do,” I answered.

He nodded. “Perhaps rumors of your
incompetence have been exaggerated.”

I huffed.

“Ye will be interested to know she was bound
with enchanted silver cuffs.”

“Fucking hell,” I hissed, rubbing my
eyes.

“How powerful were the witches—any mages?”
Jerry questioned, maintaining his composure.

“Nay, hardly a blip on my radar. I thought
the wee ones were playing out there again, until the white woman
tapped her power. Bloody hell, I almost lost my supper.”

Jerry sighed and looked at me, silently
asking if I had any more questions. I didn’t.

“Don’t run off, Fergus,” I warned him as we
left.

“You sound like the bloody bobby!” he called
after us.

“Where do you think they learned their best
moves from?” I yelled back, not bothering to turn.

A scuffling sound had me turning to see his
hunched figure at the door, his eyes serious. “Be careful
Executioner, the witches are up to something revolting.”

I sighed, “Any idea what it is?”

He nodded. “Trust me, ye do not want to
know.”

I smiled, showing my teeth. “Do not presume
to speak my mind for me, Fergus.”

Shifting, he lowered his eyes, “The rumor is
the witches are trying to open a portal to the Fae.”

He was right, I didn’t want to know. I
couldn’t hide the look of pure terror or the blood leaving my
face.

Fergus nodded. “Glad to see ye have a healthy
respect for that power.”

With that, he slammed the door on us.

It took a few moments before I could focus on
Jerry in front of me. Grasping my shoulder, he shook me
slightly.

“Olivia, the witches can’t contact the
Fae.”

I gulped. “I fucking hope not, or we are all
doomed.”


Jerry walked around the graves, taking time
to stare down into the holes with a mixture of intensity and
horror. Some unknown witch had a small fucking army of zombies, not
to mention a necromancer, at her disposal.

Fuck.

My ass started playing, “Move Bitch (Get Out
the Way).”

“Dammit, Tommy,” I hissed, pulling out my
phone. Then I chimed, “Speak of the devil! Tommy, what are you
doing?” I couldn’t help the smile in my voice.

“OLIE!” he shouted. “Disneyland is amazing. I
miss you!”

“I miss you too, bud.”

“You’ve gotta come out here, Olie, the rides
are awesome. The parades are out of this world! Not to mention all
the different worlds, we haven’t even been to half of them
yet.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Okay, I gotta go. Love you, Olie!”

The phone clicked off before I could
respond.

“Kids?” Miller asked, coming to stand next to
me.

“Yeah,” I answered, not elaborating. I
refocused on the case as Jerry came to stand before me with a
distant look in his dark eyes.

“Anything?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing we didn’t already
know.”

BOOK: A Witch's Fury
7.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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