by Clara Cody
“I understand there may be some hostility, Agent, and that’s where you come in. We can’t send a witch down there on her own, so you’re going to help keep things civil.”
“Huh? Me? What am I supposed to do? Solve generations of bad blood with my charming wit?” He met the witch’s eye. “What do you think of this?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m ready to do my job.”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, Robo-witch is up for it.”
Supervisor Kent cut in. “I understand you’re friends with a certain Lance Brody?”
He blinked. “Brody?” He hadn’t heard that name in years. Not since the academy. “What about him?”
“He’s the local sheriff down there. He’ll be able to help you two out.”
“Ah, so since I’m friends with the local law, you think I’ll be able to smooth things over, huh?”
She folded her hands on the desk. “And you’re our best agent, Landon. You know that.” She leaned back. “Of course, if you don’t want to go, I can always have you finish up the rest of the paperwork that’s cluttering your desk, and maybe get a bit of filing done until another assignment comes along.”
He grinned, rubbing his jaw. She had him there, and they both knew it. He looked between his boss and Hazelwood. “What the hell? Why not?” It was better than being stuck in the office, sitting at his desk, and he’d had worse company than a beautiful woman before. Even if she was a witch. And she was just so prim and proper. Yes, sir. No, ma’am. It would be fun to get under her skin a bit. Maybe get under something else, too.
“Good.” She pulled out two files and slid them across the desk to both him and Hazelwood. “Here is everything you’ll need. Your flight leaves in three hours. Good luck, Agents.”
He grabbed his file and stood, letting Hazelwood out the door first. He was a gentleman, after all.
“So, where do I pick you up, baby?”
She turned around on him, the calm demeanor she’d held in the office gone. “Let get one thing straight, okay? I’m not your baby, your darlin’, or cupcake, or anything else. I am Special Agent Hazelwood to you. Level Two. If I’m not mistaken, you’re Level One, are you not? That means I’m your superior. Act like it.” She turned on her heel, her ponytail whipping around and almost smacking him in the face.
He chuckled. “So, I’ll just meet you at the airport, then.” Fuck, something tells me she isn’t as compliant as I thought.
Dane walked up to the airport doors, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. It had taken him about five minutes to get his stuff together for the trip. The rest of the time he’d spent watching re-runs of Cheers.
The doors pulled open before him, just as he heard a weak groan from behind. He turned to see Agent Hazelwood standing over the open trunk of a taxi, struggling with something in the back. The cabbie just sat in the front, looking annoyed that she wasn’t moving faster.
“Here,” Dane said, sidling up to her.
“I can get it,” she said with a sigh. She gave the large piece of luggage another tug. It didn’t budge.
His hand brushed over hers as he reached for the handle. Her skin was warm and soft. Supple. She pulled her hand away, looking flustered. “Fine. Good luck.”
He gave it a heave, snapping the handle. “Shit,” he swore, looking down at the broken piece of plastic. “Sorry.”
“Way to go.”
“Don’t worry about it, we can get it out. Jesus, are you always this uptight?”
“I’m not uptight,” she said, hands on her hips. “I’m…”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Adequately concerned.”
“Right.” He turned back to the luggage in the trunk. It was stuck. “Okay, let’s try this.” He bent over and reached in behind the luggage, and started working it out, wiggling it bit by bit. “You get the other side,” he said, glancing over his shoulder just in time to catch Hazelwood checking out his ass. He grinned as she looked away, her eyes darting in half a dozen different directions, trying to hide where her gaze had been.
“You can look,” he said, waving his hips at her. “I don’t mind.”
She scoffed and reached for the other side of the bag.
Finally, the suitcase wiggled out, and he dragged it from the trunk. “What does this thing weigh?” he asked, setting it on the ground. She had another smaller piece of luggage at her side. He looked down at the duffel bag he carried. “You realize we’re not moving there permanently, right? You didn’t have to pack your entire wardrobe.”
She feigned a smile. “Let me guess, you packed a pair of boxers and a box of condoms and left it at that.”
“And a toothbrush.”
“I’m impressed. And here I thought you had no concept of personal hygiene.” She turned on her heel with a huff, rolling her bags toward the glass doors. She wore a tight black skirt that showed off the glorious shape of her ass as she walked away. Good God, this case will be the death of me, one way or the other.
Chapter 3
“Hello?” Sarah tried to keep the irritation from her voice, but it had been a long and annoying flight. Coming here, to the police station, first had sparked yet another argument between her and Agent Landon, and now there was no one around. She stood at the counter, drumming her fingers on the faux wood finish. “Hello!”
“I told you we should check into the hotel first.” Dane stood next to her, leaning on the counter, looking as cocky as always.
“I want to get started as soon as possible. The sooner we find out what’s going on, the sooner we get back to headquarters. Checking in can wait.”
“Ha!”
She turned and glared. “Ha, what?”
He touched his hand to his heart. “Your concern for the victims is overwhelming, Hazelwood.”
“I am—”
A short, rotund woman with a frizzy bun appeared, carrying a piece of cake. “Sorry, ‘bout that,” she said. “It’s someone’s birthday, you know how it is.”
“I doubt she does,” Dane answered. “She probably makes everyone miss their birthdays to not interrupt workflow.”
The woman, Officer Smith, gave an uncomfortable chuckle, looking between both of them.
“Ignore him,” Sarah said. “He thinks he’s funny.”
Another uncomfortable chuckle. “What can I do for you folks?”
“We’re looking for Chief Brody,” Dane asked, leaning against the counter and flashing his smile “He around?”
Officer Smith blushed, her pale cheeks turning hot red. She set her cake down and reached for the phone. “Just a second. He should be in his office.”
She called and spoke for a moment on the phone before hanging up. “You can go on back.” She pointed through a set of doors. “It’s straight through and at the back.”
“Thanks, ma’am.”
“Yes, thank you so much,” Sarah added, not to be outdone. They walked through the set of swinging doors and into an office with a dozen or so desks. Most people seemed to be gathered in the break room, laughing and stuffing cake in their mouths.
“Not too many shifters on the force,” he commented. He sniffed at the air. “Maybe only a few.”
“Does that matter?” she asked.
He shrugged. “We’ll see.”
Before they were even halfway across the room, a man came out of the room they were headed to, a grin on his face. “Dane!” he laughed, catching Dane’s hand in the air for a manly, but affectionate bro-shake. The man was handsome and muscular, with wavy, dirty-blond hair and a bit of scruff around his face. He didn’t even turn his eyes to Sarah.
“How you been, Lance?” Dane asked, clearly glad to see his old friend.
“Good. Fucking great since getting out of the academy. I swear the Agency was on a mission to kill me. The police academy was a piece of cake after the Agency, let me tell ya.”
Sarah was surprised he was saying all this within earshot of the people in the break room eating cake. If they weren’t shifters
, they’d have no idea about the Agency or the academy or anything. And it was important to keep it that way. “Maybe we should go into your office before we start talking about such things.”
He seemed to notice her for the first time and did not seem happy about it. “Who’s this?” He was clearly asking Dane, but looking straight at Sarah.
Dane cleared his throat. “This is Agent Hazelwood. She’s working the case with me.”
Lance scoffed. “Lucky you.” He was goading her, she knew it. But like Olson said, she had to try and be diplomatic.
She cleared her throat. “Your office, then?”
“Right.” He gave Dane a look that said he was humoring her. She didn’t see whether or not Dane returned the sentiment or not. Probably, the smug bastard.
They went to the office, which was small and smelled stuffy like they didn’t open the window enough. The place was wall-to-wall, tacky wood paneling. Pictures of wildlife scenes decorated the walls, along with the occasional stuffed duck or mounted trout. Woodland chic.
She took a moment to observe the man. She’d been wrong about her earlier assumption of him being fit. No. He had, at one time, been fit. She could imagine that he’d once looked like Dane. Strong, and hard, with ropey muscles ready to react at the drop of a hat. Not anymore. It was obvious that life out here in the boonies was a little too easy for the shifter. He was going soft, with the makings of a beer belly stretching the buttons on his shirt.
He sat down behind his desk, folding his hands over his stomach. “I assume you’ve read the file.”
Dane and Sarah simultaneously answered; her in the affirmative, and him in the negative.
“What?” she asked, turning on Dane. “You didn’t even read the file?”
He grinned. “What? I was busy.” He sent a wink over to Lance. “A flight attendant.”
“Nice.”
She ground her teeth. She’d had the displeasure of listening to him flirting with that woman throughout the flight. It drove her nuts enough that she stuffed earphones into her ears just to drown it out. But then a part of her, a small but obnoxious part, was curious. What were they saying? Was he just flirting because he was bored, or was it genuine? She’d turned and evaluated the woman. She wasn’t even that pretty. Was she really his type? She’d taken out the earphones after that.
Stop it, Sarah! Why do you even care? “Ugh, can we please try and focus here?”
“All right, all right. It started a month ago with Andrew Turner. He was the first victim. One morning he wakes up, and he can’t shift anymore.”
Dane shook his head. “Poor guy.”
“I know. Anyway, next victim was Melissa Burke. It was different with her, though. She…uh…she couldn’t change back.”
“Now, she’s permanently—”
“A wolf.” He nodded. “She’s living in the forest for the time being, but her family’s worried.”
“Strange that it changes how it affected people like that,” Sarah said to herself. “If it were a curse, it would be the same.”
Lance scoffed. “Yeah, well you would know more about that than me. Can’t say I paid much attention in Magics class.”
“Same,” Dane answered, though with less pride. “What about if it’s the ability to change that’s affected. Once the whatever-it-is kicks in, they’re stuck in the form they’re in.”
Sarah blinked. “Oh. That’s actually…good thinking.”
It was the first time his eyes narrowed at her. “Yeah, that happens from time to time, don’t let it worry you. Do I get a cookie, now Miss Hazelwood?”
Ugh, he just had to ruin it. Besides, it wasn’t like she was a jerk for being surprised. He didn’t exactly broadcast that he was capable of complex thought processes. It was hardly her fault if she thought he was more brawn than brain.
“Yeah, well curse or not,” Lance started, dismissively, “it’s a witch that’s behind this. That’s sure enough.”
Sarah turned her eyes back to Lance. “And what makes you so sure?”
“Just look at it. It’s sneaky and underhanded, and they do it from the shadows. If it were a shifter, or hell even a vampire or fae, we’d know it. But witches, no, they like to do their dirty work from behind closed doors. Mark my words, witch,” he said, stabbing his finger onto the desk. “This is the work of one of your kind.”
She glared, wondering if there was a diplomatic way of scratching his eyes out or cursing him with life-long hiccups.
“Relax, Lance,” Dane cut in before she had a chance to respond. “She’s here to help.”
He sniffed. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
She appreciated Dane’s help, but she just wanted to move on. The less tempted she was to tell this jerk off, the better. “So, are there any witches living in town?”
Lance scoffed. “Yeah, right. Why would they want to?”
She rolled her eyes. “Can’t argue there.”
“That all?”
“Not quite. Do you have any idea who would want to hurt shifters around here?”
“Yeah, I got an idea. Witches.”
She held back a sigh. “But why?”
“No why about it. ‘Cause they’re witches, that’s why. What else do you need?”
She shook her head. This was going nowhere. He was just a small-minded idiot that didn’t know his ass from his elbow when it came to anything that wasn’t shifter-related. She had to play nice, though. As much as she wanted to punch him in his smarmy face, he had a footing in this community. It wouldn’t do any good to go and piss him off just for pride’s sake. She looked at her partner. “You got anything else you’d like to ask?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”
They stood to leave. “You should come around the bar tonight, Dane. I’ll show you around, introduce you. Give us a chance to catch up.”
“Yeah, sounds great. We’re gonna go and get set up at the hotel first, though.”
“We really should talk to the victims first,” Sarah interjected. “They aren’t going to give our rooms away, but the victims might very well forget vital—”
“Yeah, yeah, sure.” He was already walking away.
Chief Brody walked them out, talking only to Dane, pretending like Sarah wasn’t even there. Whatever, like I care. It wasn’t the first time she’d have to deal with the boys club that was working with the Agency, and it wouldn’t be the last. Only this boys club was twice as restrictive. You had to be a shifter with a dick, and she was thankfully lacking in both areas.
A couple of men in uniform stood outside the police station, smoking. They gave Dane a look, they recognized something in him. They must have been shifters, too, smelling the scent of shifter on him. She was glad witches didn’t have that issue. It would make her self-conscience if she thought that another witch could smell her from ten feet away. Suddenly, she began to worry what these shifters could smell her. Could they tell she was a witch? What did she smell like?
Dane stopped, cocking his head to the side. “Did you just…smell your armpit?”
“What? No!”
“Uh, okay.”
Lance walked over to the men and said something. They laughed, looking her way. She felt her cheeks grow red, a pit grow in her stomach. She was mad. Mad enough to spit nails.
“Come on,” Dane said. “We should get out of here.”
She took a deep breath. He’s right. Just let it go, Sarah. She turned following him down the steps.
“I got one for ya: Why don’t witches wear underwear?” Lance paused a moment. “To grip the broomstick better.”
She stopped, feeling the heat rise in her chest.
“Don’t,” Dane warned.
No, she thought. I can’t let that stand. It was one thing in the privacy of his office, but now he was standing in front of his men, demeaning her. That wouldn’t do. In public, she needed respect. If these two men saw how easy it was to humiliate her, she’d never get anywhere in this town. She turned on her heel
and marched back up the steps.
One of the men nudged the other as she approached and muttered something juvenile.
“I am a Level 2 Special Agent, Officer Brody. I reached that position in record time. Do you know what that means?”
He sniffed. “I have a feeling I’m about to find out.”
“That kind of climb makes people take notice. I have the ear of the Director of Witches. She is who put me on this case.” A small lie, but it was for a good cause.
“Does she wear panties?” one of the other idiots joked. Lance wasn’t laughing anymore, though.
“In the ten minutes I’ve been here, I’ve seen five code violations. Hell, looking at you three geniuses, I can see two more. Now, these little violations could be a big problem for you. Massive, in fact, if I so choose to report them. But if you want to save yourself the headache, I suggest you show the respect that comes with my position.” She lifted her nose in the air, exhaling. Damn, that felt good.
“Sure thing, ma’am,” one answered, sarcastically.
Her relief was short lived. They didn’t suddenly look at her with respect just because she put her foot down. Now, they looked at her with raw contempt, like she was the mean teacher that took their ball away when they played too rough. She’d gained nothing.
“Happy?” Dane asked as she walked past him.
“Shut up. We have work to do.”
Chapter 4
Dane pulled the car into the small hotel parking lot. Sarah was pissed, and fuming so hard that she didn’t even notice where they were going. It wasn’t until he put the car into park that she seemed to snap to.
“Wait, what? I thought we were going to the first victim’s house.”
“Change of plans,” he answered, unbuckling himself before climbing out of the car.
“Ugh,” she scoffed but followed him after him. “Checking in can wait! I want to talk to the families as soon as possible.” She grabbed him by the arm, turning him towards her. Her eyes were blazing, her nostrils flared.
“Yeah, you’re in a real state to be talking to anyone.”
