Hunted: witch paranormal romance (Coven of the Raven Book 2)

by Shona Husk

  The Uncommon Raven Agency was expecting her to go back. Noah was expecting her to come back and get some advice…would that lead into a request for payment if she wanted more help? Nothing there had smacked of a scam, but there was something about the place. A taste, or a smell, or just something that made the hair on the back of her neck lift. Uncommon Raven Agency. Even thinking about the place conjured a sense of safety.

  Noah had acted as though he cared, and he hadn’t brushed her off the way the cops had. If nothing else, it was nice to be taken seriously. She stood up and stretched, then started walking. While the advice was free she might as well see what he had to say, even though she had no idea what to say to him. No doubt he’d expect more details from her.

  The two-block walk warmed her up. Finding the door in daylight was much harder and she almost walked past the plain, brown door.

  How did they make a living if they weren’t drawing attention to themselves? She shook her head and pushed on the door, half expecting it to be locked, but it swung open. No bells rang announcing a potential client, but the desk was occupied.

  The blond guy who’d been training with Noah last night was at the desk working on the computer; his hair was almost chin length but he was anything but feminine. If he’d had short hair he would’ve looked too hard, like a knife edge.

  He smiled. “You’re back. Have a seat and I’ll let Noah know you’re here.” He picked up the phone, the silver ring on his left ring finger catching in the light. Married. To one of the women she’d seen last night? The younger, pregnant one probably. The other older kids had clearly been Mason’s. “He’ll be right down.”

  “There’s an upstairs?” How many offices did they have?

  “There are flats above.”

  “Ah.” Did they all live above the office? Wouldn’t that get claustrophobic, always seeing your work mates? But instead of asking she perched on the edge of the chair opposite him.

  He looked at her for a moment, as if quietly assessing. Did he sense her fear and desperation? There was no pity in his eyes.

  “So what do you do?” He couldn’t be the secretary.

  “Bit of this and that. You?”

  “Teacher.” Or she had been before Cory had insisted that she quit. It had been embarrassing for him to be earning so much and yet having her work. She missed it. Missed the kids and the staffroom gossip.

  There was a chime from down the hallway, followed by footsteps. Then Noah was there.

  No sweaty gym clothes today. Today he was all style. Dark jeans and shirt topped with a black waistcoat. His short dark hair wasn’t plastered down with sweat; instead he looked like he’d stepped off a most-eligible-bachelor list. Her heart gave a reckless flutter.

  She was in trouble, not dead. Of course she was going to notice that he was pretty…no, not pretty, but handsome wasn’t the right word, either. Like the blond guy, there was a hidden razor edge. It was something in his eyes. A glint of steel in the blue, something cold, like ice against skin…and yet it was nothing she could put her finger on. She swallowed. For a moment, when she’d first seen him working out, she’d wanted to put her fingers on more than one place.

  Beneath all those clothes he had a good body. She liked good bodies. But that was all this was, attraction to a good looking guy with a good body. Plus it had been close to a year since she’d had any kind of contact with a man. Since Cory’s torn hamstring. She was alone, anxious and looking for help. Noah was what she wanted, all in one package.

  “Glad you came back. Come through.” Noah indicated down the hallway he’d just come from.

  She stood and smiled at the blond guy, then realized she hadn’t even asked his name. How rude was she? No doubt he knew her name. They probably all did. What had Noah said after she’d left? How many details had he spilled? She was very glad she’d kept the details to a minimum. It didn’t seem right to be airing the dirty laundry of her relationship to strangers. Even strangers who could help her.

  They sat down in the same office as they had last night. This time she noticed there was nothing on the walls. There was nothing personal at all. Was he hiding something, or was it so prospective clients didn’t learn anything about him that could jeopardize him later?

  He opened up a file that had a few sheets of paper in it. “Oskar and I, the guy you were talking to out the front, have done a little work based on what you told me last night. Would this be the lawyer you mentioned?” He handed over a print out of a news article.

  Her stomach flipped as she read the headline. Oh yeah, she knew the story, and now Noah knew where she was from. She nodded. The room became too hot, and she couldn’t breathe. She fumbled the buttons of her coat, trying to get it off before she suffocated. A trickle of sweat ran down her back and she began to panic.

  Noah half stood. “Are you okay?”

  She shrugged out of her coat and took big gulps of air.

  “Do you need a drink?” He frowned, watching her as if she was more than a little odd. He didn’t know the half of it, but then he’d probably never had someone hold a jumper over his face to try and supposedly calm him down.

  Cory had tried that when she’d talked to him about moving out three months ago. He’d tried to smother her, had smothered her. When she’d woken up in their bed—the one she’d been sleeping alone in for months—he’d told her that she’d fainted. She’d played along, but had known he was lying. That was when she’d set up her own account and started making plans. That was when she’d first seen the lawyer. Moving out was much harder. Her parents told her not to give up, that Cory needed her… No one saw through him. Sometimes it was almost as though she’d made up all the bad stuff and it was all her fault.

  Now when she couldn’t get out of clothing, she freaked out. Cory had done that to her.

  “It’s warm in here. Can I get some water?” She smiled and tried to act as though nothing had happened.

  Noah got up and filled a plastic cup. She wanted to gulp it down but took a measured sip instead. Her heart was still pounding as if she’d been running and her skin was sticky. Panic attacks were the workout she could have without leaving her chair.

  In less than twenty-four hours Noah had worked out who she was and who her husband was. There was still an odd vibe to the place. Maybe this was a really slick con. She took another sip of water and waited for Noah to speak.

  He leaned back in the chair. “Is that your divorce lawyer?”

  Rachel nodded. There was no point in lying about it.

  “It was when you presented your husband the papers that things went bad?”

  Again she nodded. “Cory, my husband,” there was no point in keeping his name out of it now, “refused to sign them. That’s when he said he’d kill me if I left him.” She watched Noah’s face for a clue about what he was thinking, but he was unreadable. “I know plenty of men probably say that, but there was something in his eyes.”

  A look she’d never forget. It was as if it wasn’t him, but something else, something colder and…she wanted to say evil but evil implied thought and planning, it was just pure rage and jealousy.

  “No, most men don’t threaten to kill their partner. What made you afraid that day, specifically, aside from his eyes?”

  “I don’t know. Things had been bad for a while, but that seemed to press a nerve and he lashed out.” He’d yelled at her for even thinking of leaving, vowed she would never have a life without him, that she was his. He’d set fire to the papers and left. She’d cleaned up and waited even though her gut had been telling her to run. She’d thought she’d be able to make him understand it was over when he’d cooled down, but she’d never gotten the chance.

  “He hurt you?”

  Not that day. “He stormed out.”

  “And the next day the lawyer was found dead.”

  “Yeah.”

  His fingers tapped the table counting out the seconds. “You think he did it.”

  The cops hadn’t believed that for a
moment. Impossible for a man to do that, plus Cory had an alibi. “Didn’t we talk about this yesterday?”

  “People sometimes remember more details.”

  He thought she was lying about something. “Yes, I think he had something to do with it.” She knew he did because he’d told her that every man she ever tried to be with would end up the same. No one would have her except him.

  “Were you sleeping with the lawyer?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Pardon?” Noah hadn’t even tried to work that into a conversation, just dropped it in there.

  “Did you file for divorce because you were having an affair?”

  “No. I never cheated on Cory.”

  “Did he cheat on you?”

  She hesitated. She wanted to say no, but she wasn’t entirely sure. “I don’t think so.”

  “Your husband, is he a big man? You mentioned he has a gym, so he must be fit.”

  “He plays football.” A half-smile curved the corner of Noah’s lips as if she’d just confirmed something he already knew. “I thought you were going to give me some survival tips today, not ask me more questions.”

  “The more I know the more I can help. Right now I think you’re hiding something from me. I don’t know what it is and I don’t know why. You’re obviously afraid of your husband, although it hasn’t always been that way. You had a panic attack trying to get your coat off. You are sitting on the edge of your seat ready to run, so you don’t trust me. If I give you advice, will you listen?”

  “Isn’t that for me to decide?”

  “Here’s what I think. Something happened, and your husband’s personality has been changing. He plays sport professionally so it’s most likely drugs. I’m guessing his body has changed, too, maybe he’s bulked up, while his moods have become darker.” Noah leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. His shirt sleeves were rolled up enough that she could see the start of the vicious scar that crept up his damaged elbow. “He’s turned that on you, tried to keep you close, but at the same time he doesn’t want you to know what’s going on so he’s kind of freaking out. But it’s gone too far. You threaten to leave and he thinks you’ll start telling someone something and bang, his career is over. No you, no career, what’s left?”

  She closed her eyes. She would not start feeling sorry for Cory again. He’d wrecked what they’d had with his obsession to get back on the field after being injured. “He wants to kill me.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a moment. And I’m not suggesting you go back. I’d like to know what happened to make the change, but I also know you aren’t going to tell me because you don’t trust me.”

  “Why should I?” She gritted out the words and tried to get control of her body before fear took hold again. This was a waste of time; Noah wasn’t going to tell her anything for free. She was on her own with nothing but a prayer. But where else was she going to go and who else would help her? At least Noah was showing interest and not blaming her. Plus it would be unlikely that Cory would come in here and start tearing off limbs. She tried to breathe calmly.

  “I’m listening and I believe you.” His voice was perfectly level and yet it carried a weight and a ring of truth. She had nothing to fear from Noah.

  Rachel opened her eyes and looked at him. There was no mockery on his face; he was taking her seriously and he’d even spent time looking into her case even though she wasn’t paying him. For the first time since this hell had started she felt like she actually had someone on her side. She swallowed and let out a slow breath, remaining calm on the outside while inside offering up a prayer to anyone who was listening. Thank you. “So what do I do?”

  For that there was no single answer or simple solution. Listening to Rachel, Noah had been ruling out hexes and black magic. It was hard to run from them, plus they were different. Exploding hearts, freak accidents, melting brains. The freaky shit that gave people nightmares. Algiz inked on his arm protected him against random attacks.

  No, if Cory didn’t have a demon, Noah would eat his black belt. There was only one way a person could manage that kind of gruesome death and that was with a manifested demon helping—even if they didn’t realize where they were getting that extra juice from. Having a demon gave the manifester power. Usually rage, jealousy and hate.

  A junkie with a demon was an entirely different beastie and usually harmless except to the junkie. When personal demons manifested, they sucked up all the good stuff so only darkness remained. Again, not harmful to the general population but still extremely hard to get rid of—that was the one thing all demons had in common.

  The ones he specialized in were the ones out to kill and destroy, expressing the pent-up emotions of the person who’d brought them into existence. The devil made me do it was more than a casual turn of phrase.

  Most of the time he never knew how the person had ended up with a demon. By the time he was called, he got there in time to see the death and destruction but too late to question the manifester and, sometimes, the victim. But not this time. Not that he had proof Cory had a demon, yet. The first thing he had to do was keep Rachel alive.

  “I’m hoping that you aren’t using your cards and that you have a supply of cash.”

  She nodded. “I also made a separate account that he had no knowledge of.”

  Great. At least she wasn’t running around blindly. “When you take out cash you move on?”

  “Yes, I came to New York because it’s big. I was hoping to hide in the crowd.”

  That was arguable. Demons didn’t care about crowds, just distance. She had distance, which for the moment was on her side, but Noah could almost hear the ticking clock and see the countdown.

  “Don’t stay in the same place every night, keep moving. You ditched your old cell?”

  “Yes.”

  “Want to give me your prepaid number?”

  “No.”

  He handed her a card. “Just in case you need to ring me. Have you filed a restraining order with the police?”

  She shook her head. Her eyes were wide.

  “You need to speak to the cops, let them know what’s going on so it’s on record in case something happens.” He was expecting something to happen, and even though no one would believe that there was magic involved, they would believe that a man could go on a jealous rampage and blame drugs. Sometimes it would be nice to be wrong. A pretty girl with a shitty want-to-be ex. Why couldn’t it just be a regular old domestic?

  It had been a while since he’d had a regular, old, non-magical case. Something simple. Hell, he’d even take a find-my-lost-cat case.

  He forced a smile. “Maybe he’ll wake up and realize that you’re gone and then you can get on with your life.”

  “You don’t know Cory. He’s like a pit bull. Once he’s locked on, you’ll have to kill him to get him to let go. He won’t stop. I have to keep moving. He’s already looking for me.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I rang my parents and he’s left Liberty.” She stood up. “Thank you for your time. I realize you usually get paid for this kind of stuff.” She hesitated and he knew she was going to ask about money. “If I was paying would you tell me more?”

  “I don’t have any more to tell you at the moment. To help you more I would have to dig more into your life, and to protect you we would have to spend a whole lot of time together.” Being a witch didn’t short cut everything, nor did it make life easier… Actually, he was pretty damn sure it made life a whole lot harder. Unlike normal people, his Goddess did talk to him and intervene in his life. It was because of her meddling Rachel was sitting here. It was also why he knew he’d follow this a little further, even if Rachel didn’t want his help. What if he was able to remove the demon from Cory? That would help everyone.

  “I guess I was just hoping you’d have a magic bullet.”

  Noah’s smile froze. “Do you believe in magic?”

  She looked at him for a moment as if he’d sprouted horns. “I’d belie
ve in unicorns if I thought it would help.”

  Unicorns wouldn’t help, but a witch might.

  Chapter 4

  Really, Noah hadn’t told her anything she didn’t already know. But he’d listened and had admitted that to do more he’d have to investigate further. The idea of a stranger digging through her life still made her uncomfortable. However, his recommendation that she speak to the police made sense. It wasn’t as if the cops in New York knew Cory. So she did go and make a report that she thought her husband, violent husband, had followed her. They were very nice—and she didn’t mention that he was a football star—but they said that there wasn’t a lot they could do and reminded her to be aware of her surroundings and be careful, blah blah. Like it was her responsibility to stop Cory from killing her.

  Noah had taken her more seriously and had been more concerned.

  And it was because of him she was moving hostels, and it wasn’t entirely by chance that she was moving to one closer to where he worked. His business card was tucked safely in her purse. White with a black raven on it and a phone number. Nothing else. She was willing to bet it wasn’t his personal number and that, if she rang, whoever was sitting at the front desk would pick up. But she didn’t care. She had a number in case she got into trouble. She was so tempted to ring and ask how much it would cost to hire Noah to protect her. She’d never imagined that she’d need a bodyguard. She bit back the smile that wanted to form. She had nothing to smile about.

  Her bag was heavy and the subway was crowded. She caught herself looking for Cory in the crowd, checking over her shoulder. For a moment she thought she saw Noah, his tall, lean frame leaning against a pillar, but when she blinked she realized it wasn’t him, just another man waiting to get home, or to wherever he was going.

  She wanted somewhere to go instead of running. She couldn’t do this forever, there had to be a better option. People jostled around her. New York never seemed to be quiet and the streets were never empty. Being hemmed in made her anxious. She couldn’t run in a crowd. On the other hand, it would be harder for anyone to spot her. She kept her gaze down and looked as though she knew where she was going—like a local, not a gawking tourist.