Witch Hunt Read online

  Witch Hunt

  City Shifters: the Pack

  Layla Nash

  Copyright © 2018 by Layla Nash

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by Resplendent Media.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Epilogue

  Connect with Layla

  Also by Layla Nash

  Chapter 1

  Deirdre

  I didn’t recognize the number when the call came through, and since I was still at work, I didn’t answer right away. It was late, late enough I should have already left the greenhouse, but a few arrangements had to be put together for an early delivery the next morning. Part of me tensed immediately in resentment that my quiet refuge in the greenhouse had been disturbed, but it was my own fault that I’d forgotten to leave my cell phone in the office with the rest of my things.

  When the same number called for the third time, I put aside my shears and gloves, took a deep centering breath, and answered, “What?”

  “Miss Deirdre Baker?” The voice was vaguely familiar, but it was the shiver of power in it that made me start paying attention. Whoever he was, he wasn’t human.

  “Yes,” I said, though I tempered my tone a little. No reason to piss off someone powerful until I had a good reason for it. “Who is this? How did you get this number?”

  No one called me on my cell phone anymore, not since Mother passed away. Sometimes the coven did, but I rarely answered those calls, either. Even when my aunt bothered to check in on me, usually it was only because she needed something, like some additional power for a spell or to wheedle on about getting ahold of my mother’s books and grimoire.

  “My name is Smith,” he went on. “You helped me out of a tough spot a few months ago. Nikolai gave me your contact number when I said I wished to thank you in person.”

  Nick, the bastard. I’d already told him not to give anyone else my number and that he should forget he ever knew me. But the tricky wolf no doubt had reasons for doing so, since he had reasons for everything. I refused to let the anger leak through in my voice, falling once more into the cold disdainful personality I’d cultivated to protect me from the rest of the world. “Nikolai oversteps. You’re welcome. There is no need for additional contact between us. Please lose this phone number.”

  “Wait a moment,” he said before I could disconnect the call or throw my phone into the bucket of water full of cut stems. “You will want to hear me out, young lady.”

  Young lady. No one had dared call me that in years. The icy chill in my voice only deepened and I unconsciously straightened up like I was about to cast a spell and needed to draw power in. “I. Beg. Your. Pardon?”

  And the bastard sounded like he was on the verge of laughing at me. “Yes. Meet me at the Cemetery downtown in the city in an hour. I would like to discuss the terms of my repayment of the debt I owe you. Nikolai indicated you would be interested in hearing what it is I owe.”

  That caught my interest, just like he knew it would. I’d saved the ErlKing’s life by bringing him back from where a djinn had stuck him, in the Betwixt, and I’d rather hoped that I’d never meet the man face-to-face. But it was hard to call in a favor without contacting the one who owed it, so maybe I could get the whole thing wrapped up tonight. My jaw clenched as I ground my teeth, but I managed to force an answer out. “Fine.”

  “How will I recognize you?” he asked, and I knew in a heartbeat that he was teasing me. For what purpose, I couldn’t say, because the ErlKing was not known as a pleasant or particularly funny guy.

  “You’ll know.” That was all the answer he deserved. I disconnected the call and turned the phone off, just in case he tried calling back, and dragged on my gloves.

  I started to viciously trim one of the dwarf rosebushes, furious enough that my head ached and sparks filled my vision.

  I didn’t feel any better almost an hour later as I parked my car under a street light a few blocks from the cemetery, frowning as I looked around at the empty downtown streets. It wasn’t a particularly good neighborhood, not that that mattered to a witch. I touched the charms that filled the pockets of my raincoat; they were good for a fight, since the magic was latent within the charm and required no additional energy beyond activation. And some could be designed to activate in water or ice or mud, so a witch could plant them and leave them be until the environment triggered the magic.

  I didn’t play dirty tricks like that, though. If I hexed someone, I wanted to know it worked and I meant to take responsibility for it as well. What we did in the world came back to us threefold, for good or ill, and I took that seriously. Hexing someone should never be an easy decision. It had to be necessary, and the witch responsible had to be serious about bearing the cost. When we started to make decisions like that too easily was when covens became truly dangerous.

  My steps echoed in the empty night as I strode toward the cemetery, and I wished I’d had time to change out of my work clothes. Meeting the ErlKing required something closer to formal attire than the muddy jeans and flannel shirt I wore, though I’d taken off the bandanna that covered my hair and did my best to get the dirt out from under my fingernails.

  He lingered in the shadows near the tall oak tree in the center of the cemetery, hands in his pockets and silent, and turned to face me as he heard my approach. I clenched my hands behind me and steeled myself for a tense conversation, relying on the bitchy witch persona to
keep him at bay. We weren’t friends, we weren’t cordial, we weren’t anything. We’d never even be acquaintances. I didn’t have time for that and I didn’t intend on inviting that kind of complication into my life again. I could be a talented and powerful witch without a coven or anyone else. It wasn’t worth it.

  “You must be Deirdre,” he said, a smile stacking wrinkles across his face.

  He looked like anyone’s wizened grandfather, sweet and charming and dressed formally in a suit with vest and tie. He even wore cufflinks and a tie-tack. His shoes were shined, as if he’d just gotten them out of the box or stepped down from a shoeshine stand.

  “I don’t know if I must be,” I said. I didn’t care if he liked me. I repeated it to myself over and over as I let a familiar disdain settle around me. I folded my hands into the sleeves of my raincoat near my middle, which felt absurd since it was a baby-blue raincoat and not the dark cloak I should have been wearing. “But I am Deirdre.”

  And I waited. He was the one who called the meeting, so he was the one who could speak first.

  The ErlKing smiled more as he watched me, and it did not escape my notice that his pupils went just slightly vertical and his teeth grew a touch too pointy as he studied me. “It seems I owe you a great debt, witch. Nikolai was adamant that without your skill, they could not have freed me from the Betwixt. He also said he promised you a favor from me, if you were able to free me.”

  I inclined my head, acknowledging his interpretation of events as well as the price owed. Smith patted at the front of his suit coat, fumbling about as if he’d lost his spectacles, and I took a step back out of habit, just in case I needed to react or run. His bushy gray eyebrows arched, and everything about him seemed a little too wild. I’d wondered whether he remained sane after so long trapped and imprisoned by the djinn, and my heartbeat kicked up a few notches as I was faced with the prospect of a crazy and dangerous ancient fae. Who I would face alone, at night under the waxing moon, in a cemetery. I wanted to sigh at my own stupidity. He’d rattled me too much. I should have refused the meeting and put it off for another day so I could think things through.

  But Smith only moved slowly to pull a small twig from inside his coat. “I have no intent to discharge the debt in the old ways, young lady, so you are safe. For now.”

  He couldn’t resist adding on the “for now,” no doubt, since he was supposed to be one of the boogeymen from the childhood of every witchling. I didn’t blink. “We shall see.”

  He held up the yew twig, more of a cutting with its ends wrapped. “A gift for you, in thanks.”

  I didn’t take it. “What is it?”

  “This will lead you to the Betwixt, should you desire it. Plant it where you like and let it grow, if you’ve a green thumb. Eventually it will provide a touchstone for yourself and those you trust with it.” He still held it out, waiting, as if it weren’t odd at all to be meeting in a dark cemetery and exchanging twigs. I wondered what a police officer might think if he happened across our little discussion.

  I held out my left hand and waved in the air around the twig, not touching it, to test for traps or charms or anything magical. The only twinge in the air was when my hand got too close to his wrist. Smith stood there patient and unmoving, as if a dull student was attempting an exercise for the hundredth time, and waited.

  Finally, because I was a gardener and wanted to see how the yew would grow, I took it and nodded my thanks without speaking it aloud. Sometimes a “thank you” could establish a debt, and I didn’t want to ever be in his debt.

  Smith’s smile broadened and a twinkle lit his eyes, as if I’d gone from a dull student to a clever one with just that decision. “You are smarter than I’d hoped.”

  I arched my eyebrows and clenched my jaw. “I’m so very pleased to have impressed you.”

  His teeth glinted in the moonlight, still too pointy for a human. “There is the matter of the favor I now owe you, young lady. Nikolai was not smart enough to put any boundaries on it, so I find myself at a disadvantage. I would not want you to wish ill on anyone, or choose a destructive effort, but I will abide by whatever decision you make.”

  “What we do comes back thrice,” I said, the words automatic and immediate. “I have no interest in destruction or ill will. I will notify you if I’ve need of that favor.”

  Which wouldn’t be for a long, long time.

  “See that you do,” he said quietly, thoughtfully, then gestured at the path back to the street, no doubt to where his car was parked. “In the meantime, young Deirdre, I would like to offer you a job.”

  I laughed, unable to bite it back, though I managed to regain control after only a second. It was harder to maintain my ice-queen facade around him, although I couldn’t tell why just yet. He shouldn’t have been disarming, not when he was the ErlKing, but there was something about his demeanor... I shook it off and concentrated on my car. In half an hour I could be home and in my pajamas, with my cat Cricket asleep on my chest, and with nothing to do the next day at all. “I’m not interested in working for you.”

  “Not for me,” he said. He didn’t look offended that I’d laughed in his face, and the twinkle in his eyes didn’t fade. But he did gaze at the street, where an SUV had rolled to a stop near his car. “The community here has unique needs for healers. I’ve been told you have a fair touch when it comes to solving problems that modern medicine has not been able to crack.”

  “I don’t know where you heard that, but it isn’t true.” I tucked the yew cutting into my pocket and wished I dared to head cross-country to the other path out of the cemetery. I wanted to end the conversation and avoid whatever encounter was about to occur with the occupant of the SUV, since the giant man seemed focused on Smith. “I’m not interested.”

  “You could do a great deal of good in a community that would be very grateful,” he said. It wasn’t as if he tried to convince me; no, it felt more like he was communicating the facts. “And the patrons of the facility where you would work are very generous, very wealthy. Everything you could want would be available to you.”

  “As I said,” I started, facing him, though I didn’t get any further before the burly guy from the SUV strode up.

  “Smith, we’ve got a problem.” I stared at him and reconsidered using one of my hexes just for the hell of it. Surely I could handle whatever karmic fallout occurred from putting that asshole in his place. He didn’t even look at me; it was like Smith had been entirely on his own, or I was a child who didn’t merit a second look.

  I ignored him and continued with my conversation with Smith, whose focus shifted between the two of us with just a hint of amusement. “As I said, my interest in continuing a professional relationship with any of your... friends,” and I sniffed, sliding my eyes sideways to take into account the rude man who could have been nothing but a shifter, “is nonexistent. They’re not worth my time, regardless of how generous their benefactors might be.”

  “You might be surprised,” Smith said, mild as a summer morning.

  “Hardly,” I said, just as the asshole’s dark eyes darkened even more and he loomed over me.

  “Look, sweetheart,” he said, dismissive and arrogant. “I’m sure whatever you’ve been chatting about is very interesting and will make a great entry in your diary later, but I’ve got actual business to discuss with Smith. Why don’t you run along so the grown-ups can talk?”

  Every pretense to being civilized and congenial, even with as bitchy as I’d been to Smith, fell away as a whooshing noise filled my ears. It was the opposite of a panic attack, I’d learned—incredibly focused, incredibly calm, and incredibly dangerous. Magic tingled through me until it would have been so, so easy to reach out and flick his chest to stop his heart.

  Smith cleared his throat and reached for the man’s arm, attempting to draw him away. “Evershaw, I can assure you that—”

  “Don’t bother,” I said. My words sounded strange even to me, completely stripped of inflection and emotion.
I could have flown home on the force of my rage. “The animals are hardly worth noticing.”

  The stranger bristled. Before he could speak, Smith inclined his head and upper body in my direction, pressing his palms together near his heart. “I am forever in your debt.”

  “Yes, you are,” I said, cold and distant. I had no interest in mingling with whatever community Smith claimed, particularly if any of them were like the asshole who scowled at me like I was some kind of circus performer. “See that you—and your community—do not forget.”

  Then I turned on my heel and walked away, and used just enough of a don’t-see-me charm that I faded from view just a few feet away. Smith would see through it, but from the irritated grunt from the shifter, I’d at least managed to surprise him.

  I scowled the whole way home.

  Chapter 2

  Evershaw