The Witching Hour: 11 Enchanting Novels Featuring Witches, Wizards, Vampires, Shifters, Ghosts, Fae, and More!, page 179
“It’s rude to talk behind people’s backs,” I said.
“You are a mess; you should not be in public,” the woman said back.
Now that really was rude. I bit my tongue, took my cash, and walked away.
My landlord tried to charge me a late fee on the rent. I told him he was welcome to try, but my lawyer would hear about it. Of course, I couldn’t afford a lawyer, but he didn’t know that. It was enough to make him back down and let me continue living in my tiny apartment for another month.
I stopped in the Vietnamese restaurant a few doors down from my building to pick up takeaway. I had a little spare money, and I deserved to eat something hot and delicious for a change. Then, I was finally home and free to unwind for the evening.
Home was a tiny fourth-floor apartment with scratched and battered wooden floors, a kitchenette that I rarely had enough food in to use, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The wardrobe in the bedroom didn’t have any doors on it - the previous tenant had taken those with them. They’d also taken all of the lightbulbs, leaving me to buy my own when I moved in. Oh, and there was no sofa. My landlord had advertised it as fully furnished, but to his mind that meant it had a bed and a fridge. The bed creaked as I sat down on it to pull off my boots. I bet the neighbours were glad I didn’t have a love life.
My one luxury was Netflix on my cheap laptop. I grabbed a shower and changed into my pale blue pyjama bottoms with little frogs on them and a simple strap top before I got my Vietnamese. I found it still wonderfully warm as I sank down into my beanbag with my laptop in front of me. My favourite murder-mystery series had a new episode hot off the presses, perfect.
Life wasn’t great, but I could enjoy the little things. For an hour, I wasn’t a blood witch desperately hiding what she was while barely scraping by, I was a great detective solving intricate mysteries and saving lives.
Once the show was over, I was rudely returned to the real world by the workmen half a block away beginning their night’s work. I understood why they worked such unsocial hours, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed hearing a jackhammer for half of the night.
I threw away the carton from the Vietnamese food and glanced at the jar with a sticker reading ‘new boots fund’ on it. My boots were getting very thin in the sole, and I didn’t know how much longer they’d last, but the jar was pitifully empty. That was the problem with having to hide what I was. If I could put ‘blood witch’ on my resume, I’d be able to bring in far more work. Well, for twelve or so hours before the Council found out that I was a blood witch and executed me. It’d be a nice twelve hours, though. As it was, I had to pretend I was a low-level hunter with no magic. That meant the Council and Order had no interest in hiring me; why would they, when they could hire talented lycans and such? And the gods, well, they knew what I was, and they had priestesses and Guardians to work through. Only the smaller gods with tiny meaningless jobs hired me.
With my mood thoroughly ruined and images of the Council finding out what I am filling my mind, I took my laptop to bed and put a nice, familiar, happy movie on to fall asleep to. That is, if I could drown out the sound of the jackhammer long enough to relax.
3
I gave up on sleep about an hour before sunrise. A quick check of my phone and emails told me I didn’t have another job waiting for me yet. That was the worst part of this freelance mercenary thing, the waiting around for someone to hire me. I didn’t have some association or guild I worked through, it was all done on word of mouth. I’d moved to Prague because I’d heard it was a supernal hotspot and, well, it’s cheaper to live there.
Sitting around the flat was only going to make me miserable, and I needed to keep myself fit and active to be able to do my job. I’d thought about getting a nice normal retail job or something, but I couldn’t bear it. I needed to be out there, doing what little I could to make the world a better place. My parents had been hunters, working to keep the supernal community hidden and in line. I’d grown up helping them. It had never occurred to me to seriously pursue another career, if you could call what I did a career. It was more of a vocation, or that’s what I kept telling myself when I was down to one pack of ramen and no more money in sight.
I pulled on my boots because the only other footwear I owned was a cute pair of ballet flats, and they’re really not good for running in. A run around Kinsky Gardens would do me a lot of good, and who knew? Maybe there would be a rogue nymph that someone would pay me to dispose of.
The night tram was empty. There was an odd peace to riding the trams at night, a solitude as I watched the city go by. It was the quiet hour in the city, too late for people to be stumbling around enjoying a social life and too early to be heading into work. I’d never understood why there were so many commuters at 6am; nothing opened before 9am, and the city wasn’t that big.
The driver threw the tram around the corners, and I had to cling onto the railings a few times. The ride up the hill could be a rollercoaster, if you had the right driver. It was quite the thrill ride if you had that going back down the steep hills. I stepped out into the grey light of pre-dawn and smiled at the expanse of trees that made up most of Kinsky Gardens. I stretched quickly before I set off down the closest path and settled into a comfortable pace as I allowed the sound of the city waking up wash over me. The birds were chirping, and even up in the park I could hear the trams dinging below. If I allowed myself to listen, I could hear the gentle trilling sound of the nymphs’ blood. They were hidden deep in the trees far off the paths, but they were watching me. I could feel their eyes on my back as I made my way along the twisting path.
A tree to my right shivered with the weight of something larger than a housecat jumping from one bough to the next. I allowed myself a small smile. If the puka thought I was an easy meal, they were going to have a very rude awakening. Yes, I’m a small woman, but I started helping my parents keep the local supernal community in line when I was six. I was handling feral lycans by myself by age thirteen. The puka dropped down in the shadows of the trees a couple of feet away. I ignored him. He was in his human form, complete with black cat tail and ears.
If he was seen by a non-supernal in that state, then enforcers would be sent for him. He likely knew that and didn’t give a fuck; puka were a type of fae, and all fae tended to be arrogant assholes. There were very strict laws against allowing the non-supernal community to see any trace of magic, and while he could argue that the tail and ears were just a costume, he’d likely still get a firm slap on the wrist.
The puka remained where he was and left me in peace, which was the best decision he could have made. I continued running down the increasingly steep path and looked between the trees to try and get my bearings. I’d been running around Kinsky Gardens for eighteen months, and I still routinely got lost there. There was something about it that meant I couldn’t mentally map out the paths. I didn’t worry about it. It wasn’t like I had to be anywhere anyway.
After an hour or more, I emerged out of the trees at a long, gently sloping cream stairway that headed into New Town. The soft buzz of endorphins left me smiling as I slowed to a walk and enjoyed strolling down the steps back into the city. I couldn’t help but have a good feeling about the day.
It was right after I said, “Today’s going to be a good day,” out loud that the part-bred fae jumped down from the high stone wall in front of me.
He gripped his cheap knife like his life depended on it, his eyes tinged with red.
“Hand over your money.”
I looked him up and down before I held my arms out.
“Do I look like I’m carrying money?” I asked.
He bared his sharp teeth at me and slashed at the air in front of my stomach. I unsheathed my rather more expensive and far sharper dagger and went into a fighting stance. Confusion flitted through his eyes before he lunged at me. His movements were verging on sluggish for someone with fae blood in their veins. The song of his blood had been muddied by some potent drugs that were slowly killing him, which explained the sluggishness.
A man in a beautiful navy-blue suit came out of nowhere and punched the part-bred in the face before he put himself between me and the part-bred. I tried to move around him, but he stepped to block me and punched the part-bred again, causing him to slump to the ground. The part-bred began to bubble and smoke as his body returned to the fae land, or whatever it was that caused supernals to turn into black goo when they died. Fae weren’t easy to kill, and he’d done it in just two punches. I had no idea what he was, but I didn’t want to get into a fight against him.
The man turned to face me, his expression matching that of a cat that just got the cream. He put his hands in the pockets of his pants and puffed his chest out a little bit as he looked down at me expectantly.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.
His expectant expression turned to one of confusion.
“I saved you,” he said slowly with a cultured accent I couldn’t quite place.
“I can look after myself.”
He looked me up and down slowly. He must have been almost literally twice as big as me. His broad shoulders were well defined, and his suit made no attempt to hide his strong toned body. Ice-blue eyes shone from a face that made models look plain, and it was topped off with thick pitch-black hair that was just the right length to run your fingers through or grab onto. In short, he made Adonis look a pimply schoolboy.
“I believe the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you,’” he said with a smirk.
I ignored him and was going to walk away when the song of his blood hit me. It was rich and sumptuous, a symphony so divine that I needed to taste it. Not that I was a vampire, but there was something about him and his blood that meant I needed it. I snapped myself out of the spell to find my hand over his heart. His eyes were dancing with amusement.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
“I’m going home,” I said before I turned on my heel.
“You live in the park?” he asked sweetly.
Fuck. I’d started heading in the wrong direction. Turning back towards him, I marched past him back towards the city. Well, that could have gone better.
4
The sun broke through the clouds overhead and bathed the square in front of the Starbucks in soft sunlight. It was still spring. The sun didn’t have too much heat to it yet. I checked my phone, hoping to find a text or something there. Nothing. Well, that wasn’t true, the date sat in the upper corner, accusing me of forgetting. I squeezed my eyes closed as the memories hit me. Nine years ago, I had woken up in Inverness. I was sixteen years and three months old. Something about the house had felt wrong, a stillness, an eerie quiet. A tear threatened to spill down my cheek as I recalled the feeling when I’d walked around the house calling my parents’ names. They hadn’t said they were going anywhere.
They never did come back. I spent two years hunting down every lead I could dig up, but they were gone without a trace. Their bedroom had been entirely untouched. Nothing was taken. It was as though they had simply vanished. The familiar dinging of the tram pulled me from the memory, and I made my way around the grumpy old lady and into a seat. The man that had saved me stood on the pavement watching me as the tram pulled away. He had a predatory smile on his lips. A shiver ran down my spine. What if that had been a set-up? What if the Council had discovered what I was, and he had been sent to bring me in?
I tore my eyes away from him and pushed down the panic. I was being foolish and melodramatic. The Council wasn’t the type to be subtle. If they’d found out my secret, they’d have sent a pack of enforcers to drag me from my bed. I’d been careful. No one knew what I was, and they would never find out.
Taking a deep breath, I grounded myself in my surroundings. The feeling of the hard plastic seat beneath me with the sides that raised a little too high so I couldn’t throw my leg over the side like I preferred to do. The top half of the windows had been pushed open to let in the scent of the cherry blossoms; for such a large city, it rarely smelled bad. My life was safe, and if it came down to it, I’d jump on a tram similar to the one I was riding and slip away into the night.
After a shower and an episode of the detective show I loved, I headed back into the city. I couldn’t bear to be cooped up for too long. The man who had stepped in with the part-bred fae kept flitting into my mind, his cocky smirk making me smile despite myself. His blood had been full of power, and it was completely unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I ordered a coffee to go from a small coffee shop tucked in an old building on one of the narrow streets around the castle. I didn’t want to be alone; being amongst the crowds of tourists was somehow soothing. I followed along behind a tour and half-listened to the history I’d heard hundreds of times before as my mind wandered.
No one had taught me about my blood magic. I had no real idea what I could and couldn’t do. My mom had known what I was. I still remember the pain that came with the look in her eyes when she realised. I was only twelve, and I’d asked her why people had songs within them. She was a beautiful woman with a soft gold colour to her hazel eyes. I’d thought that maybe she had some nymph blood somewhere and that I was coming into that. Her face had gone so pale and her hand shook as she took mine.
“Tell me, little Wren, how do you feel about blood?” she had asked so gently.
I had frowned. Blood had fascinated me for a year or more, but I’d assumed it was a natural part of the killing supernals that I had done for most of my life.
When I told her, she squeezed her eyes closed and swallowed hard.
“Does the blood call to you?” she’d said in barely a whisper.
That was the first time that I’d realised it did.
A single tear rolled down her cheek. “You’re a blood witch, my child.”
I froze. Blood witches were forbidden. They were dangerous monsters to be executed on sight.
“Never let anyone know what you are, do you hear me?”
I’d nodded numbly and never spoken of it again. In the dark moment, my heart still squeezed tight as I wondered if that was why my parents had vanished.
The tour had moved on without me while I’d been lost in my thoughts. I pushed off the short wall overlooking the city and meandered down the narrow cobblestone road with short buildings on either side. It was one of the oldest streets in the city with its splashes of peach and yellow rather than the more traditional pale creams and whites. The tourists didn’t tend to find that particular street, so I was free to wander and enjoy the gentle sunlight as I tried to keep my head away from the old memories.
A man walked up the hill towards me. He kept his head down and his hands in the pockets of his well-worn jeans. His longer blond hair was messy, and not in the sexy bedhead way. Something about him bothered me, and the way he was glancing in the shop windows to keep an eye on his surroundings certainly wasn’t the behaviour of a normal tourist. He turned the corner and walked a short way down one of the narrow alleys with shallow steps leading to the next street. I picked up my pace and looked down the alleyway to see if my suspicions of his being up to something illegal were confirmed. He met a shady-looking guy wearing a black hoodie and a pair of thin expensive sunglasses. The shady guy handed the original guy a small vial of garnet-coloured blood. There was a slim chance that it was a potion or some such instead of blood, but my instincts said it wasn’t a simple potion. The glass must have come from an alchemist, as it blocked the song. I couldn’t feel what type of blood it was, but I was something of an expert, and I knew what I’d just seen.
As a mercenary, no one had taken the time to teach me about the magic side of things. I’d managed to glean things here and there, so I knew that alchemists and witches used various types of blood in their workings. I also knew that the Council had laws in place to make sure certain dangerous bloods weren’t used, and the beings that the more popular ones came from were protected so they didn’t become extinct. Given that the man had handed over a large sum of money for a single vial, it had to be something very illegal.
The question was, did I care enough to follow him and find out more? I chewed on my bottom lip as I watched them both head around a corner and out of sight. I wouldn’t be paid to take him down if it was illegal, but it wasn’t as though I had anything better to do… still, I didn’t want to waste energy running them down. I pulled out my phone and called Kane, one of the few friends I had. There was no harm in doing a little digging, right?
5
I’d met Kane in Scotland when I was thirteen. His family was a small, very old coven of witches that kept themselves out of the usual witch politics. His parents had been friends with my parents, and they’d helped us with our hunting quite often. Kane had been there for me after my parents vanished. He’d become something between a brother and my best friend. There had been a brief time when I was in my late teens that I wanted to be something more than friends, but I’d never acted on it for fear of losing him. The feeling had passed, but we remained really close.
I leaned back against the wall of the pale-yellow building behind me and waited for Kane to pick up the phone. He was likely working out and couldn’t hear his phone over the loud dance music. He finally picked up on the fifth ring. The heavy beat of music could be heard in the background.
“Wren, how’s it going? I’m going to be in Prague next week, you’re ok with me crashing with you, right?”
The image of my scruffy little flat popped into my head. I didn’t have a sofa for him to crash on.
“Er, sure… I don’t have a couch, we’d have to share the bed.”
“Awesome, so to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
“I just saw someone buy a vial of blood, there was a lot of cash involved.”
