Bad Witch: A Snarky Paranormal Detective Story (A Cat McKenzie Novel Book 2) Read online

  Beside Sharyn was the body of a raven, its belly split open in a gross parody of what had happened to the witch. Bloody feathers were strewn around Sharyn’s corpse, each feather’s hollow shaft pointing inward toward the body.

  With a hard swallow and mental ass-kicking to keep my shit together, I commanded, “Kick the knife toward me.”

  The woman smiled and did as I asked, and I shifted my eyes to the floor for a split second to check the trajectory of the blade—

  The opal around my neck flared white-hot before blistering heat filled the room, making my head jerk up.

  “Shit.”

  A fireball the size of a watermelon was coming at my chest. My body moved on instinct, and I found myself slamming onto the floor on my belly. The flaming ball went over my head, smaller flames sputtering onto the hardwood, into my hair, and onto my shoulders. With a curse, I patted out my smoldering clothes and hair before lumbering up onto my feet. My knee let out a holler as I got back on the vertical, and I could already hear Sawyer’s voice in my head, chewing me out for rushing into the room without freaking backup.

  A bolt of pain arced through my knee, the joint howling as I tried to put weight on it. Stumbling back against the small round dining table between the kitchen and me, I wiped the sweat from my brow, grit my teeth, and drew myself up. Fixing my gaze on the red-headed woman, I watched her stalk closer to me, mouthing words without sound. Extending out a hand, she reached for my chest…

  No, not my chest.

  My necklace.

  I tried to lift my arm to ward her off, but my muscles locked, like a vice was suddenly banded around my chest, and my mouth was forcibly clamped shut. A strangled moan escaped my throat as she reached for the stone around my neck. Panic flared, the useless emotion doing nothing to help the current situation. The only thing that it made me do was zero in on one thought and one thought only—I couldn’t lose it.

  That necklace was the last thing my father had given me.

  Struggling against the invisible hands that held me, a single tear leaked from the corner of one eye. But as her fingertips brushed the colorful stone, she was thrown across the room. The lock on my body disappeared as soon as she hit the couch, tipping the piece of furniture backward.

  I looked down at the black opal around my neck.

  Then at the couch that was flashing me what was under its skirt.

  Well, that certainly hadn’t happened before.

  With a scream, the woman came to her feet, this time a ball of blue flames manifesting between her cupped palms.

  Well, shit. Nothing good came from blue flames.

  Tipping the small table over, I scrambled behind it just as she hurled the fireball at me, a cruel smile on her lips. My wooden shield blasted apart a second later, nothing but a shower of splinters and jagged pieces of timber forming a starburst on the hardwood. I looked up—

  The opal pulsed once, propelling the blue fireball the woman had sent at me backward. She cursed and absorbed the blow like she was catching a football, the flames growing smaller and smaller until it was nothing but a wisp of smoke in the crook of her arm.

  Screaming, she sent another fireball at me. Once again, my opal pulsed, and the fireball simply bounced off me and slammed into a wall. Again and again, volley after volley, she sent more fireballs at me, each one bouncing off and peppering the apartment with carnage.

  The building rocked on its foundations from the onslaught, large chunks of the ceiling falling to the floor. The exposed brick walls were spidering with cracks at least an inch wide, exposing the steel bones of the apartment block. The floor vibrated beneath my feet, the plates and flatware in Sharyn’s dish drainer rattling right along with it. The whole fucking building was going to go down, and I had no intention of being in there when it did.

  I stared at the woman, torn between the need for justice and the pull of survival. I was leaning toward justice, though. I may not have liked Sharyn Wyatt, but she didn’t deserve to die, and her murderer did not deserve to go free. Gritting my teeth, I opened my mouth to tell her to give it the fuck up when she slammed into me, tackling me to the ground.

  Clearly, she’d given up on the idea of using magic.

  Normally, that’d be fine by me.

  But I essentially had one arm tied behind my back with my shoulder still bruised and hurting from the relocation of the joint. She rolled me over onto my back, then wrapped one hand around the chain of my necklace—being careful not to touch the stone—and began to yank on it. With my hands planted on her chest, I managed to shove her away once, but she simply lunged for my neck again, but just as she was about to wrap her hands around my throat, she began gasping for breath and fell away.

  I stood, staring at her writhing around on the floor with clear oxygen deprivation issues. Movement near the front door caught my attention, and I turned to see a tall blond man standing between the jambs, the power oozing off him almost suffocating. He walked into the room, long hair tied loosely behind his head, exposing the sharpness of his cheekbones and the savagery of his pale green eyes. He reminded me of an arctic fox, his features angular and malicious.

  I studied him warily—wearily—wondering what flavor of supe he was. He wasn’t built like a shifter—those bastards were always stacked. Vampire maybe? No, his chest was heaving with his breath. He certainly dressed like a vampire, his designer suit probably costing more than three months’ wage for me. Perhaps he was one of the fae? It seemed like the most plausible explanation.

  His gaze shifted over to the woman, and he bared his sharp teeth.

  “You bitch,” he snarled, reaching for the other woman.

  “She’s my suspect, asshole,” I gasped angrily, making him pause. “If anyone gets to rough her up, it’s me.”

  His eyes darted to me, skimming my body with a sneer on his lips. “You couldn’t hardly harm a fly, human.”

  “Maybe,” I conceded. “But if you take her, you’re interfering with a police investigation, and I’ll have your ass in handcuffs faster than you can insult me again.” Sawyer had once told me that the fae were sticklers for rules. Assuming this guy was one of the fae, playing the rule card now was a gamble I hoped paid off.

  He studied me, his angry gaze sliding to the woman on the floor. She was still clutching her throat, her lips blue, her eyes bulging slightly as she gasped like a dying fish.

  Using my strongest voice, I said, “Stop doing whatever it is you’re doing to her and let the justice system do its job.”

  For a long minute, he stared at me.

  For a long minute, I wondered whether I’d done the right thing by coming in between him and his target.

  The thing was, I was a cop. It was my duty to make sure justice was served. With a small snarl, he flicked his hand toward the woman who sucked in a breath, gulping down the air like the supply would run out abruptly again.

  “Who are you?” I demanded in a low voice, keeping an eye on the woman on the floor.

  “Kailon Perry.”

  My eyes widened. I blinked.

  And again…

  …. one more for good luck.

  “The fae assassin single-handedly responsible for revealing supernaturals to humans less than a year ago?”

  He nodded and crossed his arms over his slender chest. “In the flesh.”

  Well, fuck.

  Three

  “Cat?” Sawyer called from outside the ruined apartment.

  “In here,” I yelled back, my eyes still on Kailon. “What are you doing here?” I asked the fae softly.

  Kailon’s cool green eyes shifted down to the woman. “I’m here for her.”

  The color had returned to the woman’s cheeks, her lips pink now instead of blue. She was still prostrate on the floor on account of me sitting on her chest to restrain her.

  “Who is she anyway?”

  Kailon’s glamor fell away for a moment, revealing slitted acid green eyes, iridescent scaled skin, and a forked tongue.

&nb
sp; Not an arctic fox—a snake, I realized.

  “She’s a witch, and she killed my niece last night.”

  “Why?”

  “If I knew that—”

  “McKenzie?” Sawyer yelled again. “Where are you?”

  He was standing in the doorway to the apartment, his gaze scanning the ruined space. Couldn’t he see us?

  I looked to Kailon, his human packaging back in place once more. He flicked his hand, the air shimmering with a near physical wave. I knew the moment Sawyer could see us because his expression morphed from worry to anger. He barged into the room, shoving aside the broken and splintered furniture until he was standing nose to nose with Kailon.

  “What’s he doing here?” Sawyer demanded.

  “Oh, this is too good.” Kailon chuckled, taking a step back and flicking some debris from the lapel of his jacket.

  Sawyer cocked his arm and slammed his fist into the fae’s smug, smirking face. Kailon’s head snapped violently to the side, a muffled oomph escaping his lips. Staggering backward, Kailon straightened slowly, wiping the back of his hand against his nose, smearing blood across his white cheek while Sawyer remained stock-still, his eyes violent black, his whole body rigid.

  “Is that all you got?” Kailon baited with bared blood-stained teeth.

  An animalistic sound bubbled from Sawyer’s mouth just as a ripple of magic tingled against my skin. Sawyer slammed his fist into Kailon’s face again, sending blood spraying. Not giving the fae a chance to recover, Sawyer drove Kailon’s body right where I was sitting on the suspect.

  I leaped up to avoid being crushed in the blur of fists and blood, watching on helplessly. Behind me, the sound of crunching glass drew my attention, and I turned in time to see the witch diving through the broken living room window.

  With a curse, I limped to it, my hands gripping the casement as I peered out onto the fire escape. The woman was racing down the stairs, her steps and movements almost like she was flying. I pulled my head back in and turned back to the brawling males.

  “Well done, you… you… assholes! ” I yelled. “She got away.”

  Whether it was my words or my generally shrill tone, the pair of them stopped trading punches long enough to stare at me. Blood was trickling from Sawyer’s mouth, and along with a bloody nose, Kailon’s eyebrow had been split open.

  “Jesus!” I stalked into the galley kitchen—the only room that hadn’t been hit by any stray fireballs.

  Kailon staggered to his feet, brushing the dust and debris from his suit and straightening the jacket. Sawyer did the same, throwing a glare at Kailon and stepping toward me.

  “What the hell happened here?” he demanded.

  Now it was time for me to tread carefully.

  Lying by omission was the name of the game, but I was a pro at playing.

  “I was upstairs when the building began to rock from side to side, like it was an earthquake, except that we don’t get earthquakes here. I ran downstairs, and I found the woman and Sharyn fighting with magic. She killed Sharyn, and that’s when I tried to arrest her. She hurled some fireballs at me, then this guy showed up.” I hiked my thumb in Kailon’s direction. “He claims the woman who killed Sharyn also killed his niece, and he was about to tell me all about that when you came storming in like Mike Tyson ready to throw down.”

  Sawyer’s eyes grew cold, the gray light that usually sparked in there flickering, guttering out. He swept his hand out angrily. “Do you even know who he is?”

  I turned to glance at Kailon, who looked like a composed businessman there to discuss a potential partnership. “He’s the fae responsible for shoving the supernatural world down everyone’s throats. He’s an assassin, and now I can add that his magical power is air manipulation.”

  “So you know he’s dangerous.”

  I snorted and folded my arm under my brace. “Every goddamn supe is dangerous,” I retorted. “I’ve just learned which ones are more dangerous than others.”

  Sawyer’s eyes darkened, and he turned to Kailon. “Moira is dead?”

  The fae nodded his head just once, challenge brimming in his eyes. “Yes.”

  “And what do you want us to do about it?”

  “I want you to arrest the woman who did it.”

  “Why arrest her?” I asked. “You seemed pretty intent on killing her before I stopped you.”

  He studied me, his mouth curled up a little in the corner. “I was just trying to keep her quiet.”

  I snorted. “Is that what you call it?”

  “Yes. The fae cannot lie,” he replied.

  “But they can twist the truth,” Sawyer said in a clipped tone. His hands were cranked tightly into fists like he was ready to throw down again. “Why are you here?”

  Kailon pressed his lips into a thin line before he leaned on the edge of the counter. “I’ve been hamstrung by the fae powers that be.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Crossing one ankle over the other, he looked at me like he found me amusing. “It means that since my little stunt that revealed our existence, the most powerful fae have been keeping tabs on me. If I break any more laws, if I cause any more undue attention to be drawn to the supernatural community, I’ll be killed. Publicly. As a warning to any other fae. Do you know much about public executions performed by the fae, Cat McKenzie?”

  My necklace tingled in warning. Kailon saying my name set me on edge for some reason. I shook my head. Dealing with supes was sooo-fucking-draining. “I’m not sure I have any fucks left to give here, but why don’t you spill your secrets like a tween girl at a slumber party?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I need this witch captured, and the only way I can do that is with your help. I can’t break their decree not to hunt her.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because the fae are bound by rules and laws, and because both heads of fae power don’t want your government looking at us any more closely than they already have. You’re the human police. I propose we make a deal. You arrest her, and after she’s been contained and neutralized, the fae will take it from there.”

  “Wait.” I looked at Sawyer, who was dabbing his split lip with a piece of kitchen towel, then looked back to the fae. “You want us to catch her legally, then hand her over to you and the fae to punish in whatever way you see fit?”

  “Yes,” he replied evenly.

  Everything in me bucked against his request. The woman was a human. Sure, she’d pissed off the wrong people, but she was still a human.

  Kailon said, “Think about it, and I’ll be in touch, Cat McKenzie.”

  “I can’t wait,” I replied. Fuck. Why couldn’t I catch a break?

  Kailon walked from the room with all the confidence of a man who got everything he wanted in his long unnatural life.

  Sawyer’s hand on the small of my back made me jump, and I peered at him over my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “How did you find out?” I asked, knocking bits of broken plate off the counter with the sweep of my arm. Easing myself onto the surface, I studied Sawyer’s face. “And what’s your beef with Kailon?”

  He grimaced. “We have a history.”

  “Been putting your dick somewhere it doesn’t belong?”

  He shook his head, all innocent AF. “Not at all.”

  “What the f—”

  I turned my head toward the door where Smith, an officer of Buxton PD, was standing.

  He took in the carnage around the room. “Fucking hell, I thought out here looked bad.” He shifted his gaze to me. “What happened in here?”

  “Magic?” I answered absently, sliding off the counter. My knee buckled as I landed, and it was only Sawyer’s hand on my elbow that stopped me from falling.

  “Magic?” Smith repeated, sounding unconvinced.

  I nodded. “Two witches. One fae. One bad-ass human.” I cupped my hand like I was about to tell him a secret. “That was me, FYI.”

  He actually rolled his eyes at me.

 
Ooo, antagonism.

  “You have a real high opinion of yourself, don’t you, McKenzie?” Smith took another step into the room. I knew the moment he saw Sharyn’s body because he came to a complete stop and rubbed a hand over his short hair. “Fuck.”

  “Mysterious witch, in the living room, with a dagger,” I said.

  Smith glared at me. “Have a little respect for the dead.”

  Turning to Sawyer, I muttered, “Some people have no appreciation for the classics.”

  My partner’s expression was pissed off, but humor danced in his gray eyes. It was nice to see I hadn’t lost my comedic value yet.

  Smith came toward us, shooting a filthy look my way like I was the one who’d committed murder. “McKenzie, Wolfe will have your ass for this.”

  “For what? Living in the same building as a witch?”

  The air thickened with tension, but it wasn’t from me. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Sawyer’s eyes darken.

  Smith bared his teeth. “Your fucking time is coming, McKenzie. You should stay with the freaks since nobody wants you back in the department anyway.”

  And with that declaration, he turned, stalked out of the kitchen, and continued into the hall.

  “Well, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed.”

  Sawyer touched the small of my back, sending a shiver through me. “Smith is an asshole. Don’t listen to him.”

  “I wasn’t listening to him, Sawyer. I was playing with him. His fear of supes will eat him alive.” I would know. It had almost happened to me not that long ago. “Hey, do me a favor and take a shot of the symbols on Sharyn’s body before it’s removed from the scene.”

  Sawyer did what I asked without question. Fucking miracle of miracles. He returned to me, angling the screen of his phone at me. I got the whole gruesome effect and gave him a tight nod.