Magically bound an urban.., p.1

Magically Bound: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Hunted Witch Agency Book 1), page 1

 

Magically Bound: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Hunted Witch Agency Book 1)
 


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Magically Bound: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Hunted Witch Agency Book 1)


  Magically Bound

  Hunted Witch Agency - Book One

  Rachel Medhurst

  Contents

  Foreword

  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

  Note from the Author

  About the Author

  Foreword

  Magically Bound

  By Rachel Medhurst

  Copyright © 2017 by Rachel Medhurst

  Please note that the author is English so spelling is in British English.

  Sign up to my mailing list for free books and updates: Rachel Medhurst Website

  Chapter 1

  If he dared to take one more step, my magic would put him out of his misery. He must be miserable if he was following me. Creep.

  “Come out, then,” I shouted, spinning in the dark street.

  The shadows hid my stalker, but I knew he was there. I could feel the presence of the low life scum. And, if he didn’t show himself, I would show him my fist.

  “Don’t even think about killing me.” Ah, there he was.

  The London street shrunk as a group of warlocks came out from the shadows, their arms raised, ready for a fight. Good, let them be ready, I was also ready. And, extremely pissed off. Didn’t they know that I had a job interview to get to?

  The leader was a tall man, although any person over the age of thirteen was taller than me, so that wasn’t a hard accomplishment to achieve. His dark skin was smooth, his leather jacket creaking as he moved. Closer, but not quite close enough.

  My heartbeat resounded in my head, reminding me that I was alive. Reminding me that I had a reason to live.

  “What do you want?” I demanded, my hands held loosely by my side.

  I hadn’t made up my mind about which magic I would use. Being a half-breed was good for one thing, the other person never knew how I would attack. Which was exactly why both witches and warlocks feared me.

  The warlock held up a hand to stop the approach of the other four. They were all men, like most warlocks. Although there had been some gender cross-over, it wasn’t until I was born to a witch mother and a warlock father that female warlocks even existed.

  The stark streetlamp overhead highlighted the others well. I stood back, using the darkness to camouflage myself as much as possible. The backstreet was a shortcut between two main roads in London city. My journey had been taking me to the River Thames, which was where the building for the Hunted Witch Agency stood.

  Tilting his head to the side, the warlock laughed, the small insignificant sound filtering through his white teeth. He mocked me. Nope, not on my watch.

  Crouching, I extended my right arm, conjuring a ball of flames. My wrist flicked, sending it towards my enemies. They scattered, their yelps of surprise making the corner of my lip lift into my cheek. They weren’t expecting me to attack all five of them.

  Moving, I circled as they held up their hands. Were they seriously scared? Or, playing me for a fool?

  “If you leave now, I’ll leave your balls intact,” I said, smirking when a couple of them rolled their eyes.

  They’d obviously heard of my reputation. So what if I’d accidentally de-balled a couple of witches a few years ago? We had been having fun when my magic had taken over. All had been forgiven. Yet, every person in the underworld associated my name, Devon Jinx, as the half-breed that ripped out men’s bollocks. Like the Americans say, my bad.

  “Don’t fight us, Devon, he needs to see you.” The leader of the small warlock pack held his hands up in surrender.

  As if I would believe him. Every single warlock in the coven of London wanted me dead. I didn’t really blame them, I had killed their leader. Again, my bad.

  The person they spoke about was the one warlock who contested my claim to the warlock leadership. Wait, did I fail to mention that I was heir to the warlock crown? Well, not really a crown, but you know…

  “I’m busy right now,” I said when one of them went to move forward.

  My skin tingled as I prepared to defend myself. No matter how many times a supernatural creature chased me through the city of London, I would never get used to it. I was a target. Everyone wanted a piece of me.

  “You killed our leader, the least you can do is explain yourself!” The main man finally snapped, his teeth pulled back as a hiss escaped his lips.

  Taking a step sideways, I swallowed as I weighed up my options. It had been a few weeks since I’d accidentally shot Isaac Senior, the elderly leader of the warlocks, in the head. I’d been possessed by a Dark Crawler. You know, the stinky evil spirits who possessed humans so they could live on earth. They rotted the host from the inside out, until they eventually jumped into another person. Yeah, well, one of them got into me.

  “I didn’t mean to do it. I would’ve never done it if…”

  I couldn’t tell them too much. After the event, the Crawler had been pulled from me by magic. I had managed to stay hidden from the warlocks since it had happened. The pain that washed over me at the memory of what I had done weakened me.

  One of them whispered as I bared my vulnerability, their hand coming up and a stream of bright blue magic shooting out of their palm. Diving to the side, I cursed as I rolled on the hard concrete ground, wincing when broken glass cut into my hand.

  “Get her!” the main man shouted.

  Pushing up from the cold floor, I started to run. It was best not to antagonise them any further, especially as I had somewhere to be.

  My small feet pounded the pavement as I thundered down the dimly lit road and straight out into the main street. A couple of cars passed as I spun right. It was quiet, the darkness driving the humans to their safe homes.

  The underworld had started to grow in confidence recently, their annoyance at being hidden for so long starting to crack.

  “Devon!” The shout made me look over my shoulder.

  My breath huffed in and out as I kept going, my gaze watching the warlocks as they followed me. One of them held a ball of swirling light green magic.

  “Shit,” I whispered as I went to look forward.

  My whole body vibrated as I smacked straight into someone, their body so rock solid, it stopped me in my tracks.

  “I’m…” I started to stutter an apology as I glanced back. The warlocks slowed, their gaze landing on the person behind me.

  Looking up at him, I heaved a sigh of relief. He wasn’t exactly massively tall, but he was broad, his muscles well defined. His mousey brown hair was slightly spiked up, the tips looking soft enough for me to run my fingers through it. His arms were bare, revealing black and grey tattoo’s winding up the skin and disappearing under the short sleeves of his black T-shirt. His grass green eyes looked into mine just as I finished my appraisal of him.

  “Are you okay? Do you need some help with them?” His voice was gravelly, sexy.

  Shaking myself, I disconnected my gaze and looked back to the warlocks. They had come to a halt a little way down the street.

  I wanted to stay and chat with the appealing witch. Oh, yeah, he was a witch. I could feel his magic; it was a talent of mine. Being half of each kind made it easy for me to detect what type of magic
lived in a person. However, I couldn’t hang around. I was already going to be late.

  “Could you distract them while I get out of here? I have a job interview and they’re being extremely inconvenient right now.” Fluttering my eyelashes, I smiled coyly.

  His eyebrows raised as he let go of my arms. I hadn’t even realised he held me until the cold rush of air enveloped me.

  “I’m not prepared to enter your fight if you deserve their wrath.”

  Shaking my head quickly, I bit my lip. “No, I don’t. I haven’t done anything. I’m a prize to them, a threat. They want to take me out.”

  Okay, so I may have been playing my hand just a little too far. My pulse quickened as the lie was processed by the man and his gaze hardened…on me. Apparently he could see through me easily.

  He was honourable. Offering to help when he thought I was in danger, only to realise that I may have bought it on myself. Crap.

  “Okay, forget it, I’m sorry I bothered you,” I snapped, before I took a deep breath and collected myself. “Wait…”

  He went to turn away. He could obviously tell that I was a liar. But, he didn’t know why. I had to protect myself, or everyone in the city would use me to their advantage. He paused, his lovely eyes narrowing on me again.

  “I…I really am sorry. I do have an interview and…I really want the job.” My cheeks heated when his gaze softened. “But, this has nothing to do with a handsome stranger, so I’m just going to go.” I spoke to myself.

  The warlocks stepped forward when I went to walk towards them. The one with the ball of magic raised his eyebrows. I closed my eyes briefly as I whispered a witch spell, causing the ball to extinguish on its own.

  The man glared at me, a swearword releasing from his mouth. “Can we get the bitch now?”

  Before the others could reply, I crouched low, my arm extended in front of me. A stream of blood red magic laced with yellow streams flung out towards them, still attached to my hand. Moving my arm sideways, I sliced the long line of magic through each one of them. They screamed as they flew backwards.

  The last one managed to dodge out of the way, his yelp making me smile. He got to his feet as soon as my magic dropped and I spun to get away.

  “Really?” I huffed when the handsome witch held up his hand.

  Without waiting to be attacked by the warlock, I ducked past the hot tattooed witch, and ran…as fast as I could. My skin was slick with sweat, the leather of my jacket sliding against my arms. It was hot, very hot.

  My arms pumped by my side as I tried to keep my breath going. It was fast running out. Why didn’t I train more often? It would help with my escape.

  A blast of light flashed past me, slamming into the wall of the shop I passed. Squeaking, I cursed myself at my weakness. Bloody warlocks, they were the bane of my life right now. If I could just lose the one that followed me, I would win.

  A grunt escaped my chest as something hit my legs. Gritting my teeth, I tried to land elegantly as my knees gave way, and I crashed to the concrete. “Bitch!”

  Scrambling up, I looked down at my legs to see nothing there. I didn’t bother to turn round, but somehow I knew that the gorgeous witch had caused me to fall. Was he helping the warlock? Why would he do that?

  “You can slow down now,” his deep voice called after me.

  The lights of the street blurred as I carried on. I wouldn’t trust someone who had just tried to down me…and succeeded.

  Looking back, I frowned, my heart skipping in my chest. The last warlock was face down on the ground. So, the witch had hit both of us. What was his game?

  He jogged behind me, too far to catch up. For whatever reason, he had become involved in my escapade. Which meant someone else knew my secret.

  Ignoring him when he called out again, I sprinted as fast as my aching legs could carry me. The building where my job interview was meant to take place wasn’t far. In fact, if I ducked down this…

  “I’ll find you!” the witch shouted, his voice further away now.

  Find me? Why did he want to find me? What did he want? The adrenaline that had kept me going started to ebb, my muscles wanting to cease up. He was letting me go. His effort to catch me hadn’t been serious, otherwise he would’ve been a lot closer.

  The darkness of another side street covered me as I entered. Moving into the shadows, I leant against the brick wall, the cold of the night seeping through my leather jacket and into my bones.

  Huffing, I struggled to get control of my breathing. How many times had I been told that I should stop practicing magic to make sure my body was fit? Plenty.

  A sob erupted from nowhere as I remembered who had tried to train me. Isaac Senior, the leader of the warlocks. My father’s best friend. The man I had killed.

  When my father had explained that he was a warlock, and my mother was a witch, my life had altered drastically. They had decided to raise me as a witch, but I was technically half and half. A person not belonging to any one coven. Yet, the witches had gritted their teeth and allowed me to join them, albeit reluctantly.

  “I’m sorry, Isaac,” I whispered, wiping away the tear that escaped my eye.

  He had taken me in when my parents had died. The revelation that my father’s family were the second heirs to the warlock leadership baffled me even further. If Isaac’s line ever died out, we would take over. What had my parents got me into? I was too crazy to even think about leading a coven of warlocks, much less London’s main group.

  Wiping my hands over my face, I took a deep breath and left my hideout. Pushing the thoughts away, I looked at my phone to check the time. Great, my first impression wouldn’t exactly be good if being an hour late wasn’t acceptable.

  Settling into a slow jog, I rushed out of the street and onto the walkway that led me along the River Thames. The lights from the London Eye twinkled in the water below it. Ah, if only I could relax by the river, enjoying the night sky and the soft lights, it would be so much easier.

  The building I was looking for came into view. It was a tiny two-storey place wedged between corporate office blocks. It must have cost a fortune to rent out or own. Maybe if the owner was a man, and single…nah, I wasn’t ever going to be tied down.

  A single light shone in the tiny window of the front door. The shutters blocked the view into the other windows. Were they still there?

  Was I doing the right thing? My mind knew that I had to make money, I had to get a job. But, my heart…it wanted to do nothing all day. Not even play with magic.

  If I didn’t change my life, someone would kill me. It was as simple as that. I was powerful, and they didn’t like it. The supernatural underworld had heard about me killing the warlock leader and knew that if I had survived being possessed by a Dark Crawler, I could very well be one of the most powerful people in London. Well, I didn’t like to toot my own horn, but they might very well be right.

  So, why did I hover at front of the door, hesitant to offer my services to the agency?

  Because, a small whisper of my own voice resounded in my head, you’re afraid that if anyone gets close to you in any kind of way, they’ll die because of you. Like everyone else in your life.

  Chapter 2

  Pressing the button beside the wooden door, I waited until there was a buzz and let myself in.

  “Hello,” someone spoke over a speaker as I entered the hallway. “I take it you’re Devon.”

  The place was dark with a yellowy light in the ceiling. I looked around me, noting the white walls with pictures of painted landscapes precisely placed a few metres apart.

  “Yes, I’m so-”

  “Come through the end door,” the person interrupted me.

  Well, how rude. They couldn’t even be bothered to come and greet me. And, then they had the cheek to cut me off. Rude.

  Running my hands through my dark hair to make sure it was still in place after my fight, I walked down the hallway to the only wooden door at the end. It was brown, the wood stained and old.
In fact, the oak beams overhead showed me that the building was probably original. How quaint for an agency.

  Pushing the door, I almost tripped when it swung open. A small step led me into an old fashioned library. Really? I was going for a job interview for a supernatural agency in an old English house?

  “Welcome. You’re late.”

  The woman sitting behind the big oak desk rose from her chair. She was of average height with a straight blonde bob cut just below her chin. Her lithe frame was clad in jeans and a top that accentuated her boobs. Yes, she had massive boobs.

  Glancing down at my own less than impressive chest, I sighed. “I’m sorry I’m late, I ran into a bit of trouble. Some smart arse warlocks thought they’d…”

  I stopped myself abruptly, remembering where I was. Justina, that was her name. The woman who now came out from behind the desk to stand in front of me. Or, to look down at me, whatever.

  “I don’t care why you’re late, I just care that you’re late.”

  Well, okay then. If she was going to be this rude all the time, I would…

  “Take a seat, Devon.” She interrupted my thought as she pointed to a leather chair.

  Going back around her desk, she glanced at the wall to the left. Following her gaze as I lowered myself into the chair, I stared. CCTV screens covered the whole length of the wall up to the door. Wow, impressive agency gadgetry shizzle. I wouldn’t mind having a little look to see where my enemies were.

  “It says on your application that you’ve never done this kind of work before.”

  Bringing my attention back to the powerhouse of a woman, I cleared my throat before I spoke. “No, I’ve been…training.”

 
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