Water Witch

by R. J. Blain

  I circled the tree, searching for evidence the bark had been damaged. Faint gouges marked the other side of the trunk, though I couldn’t tell what had caused them. While the body had been cleaned, the vic’s killer—or killers—had left fibers behind, stuck to the tree’s bark.

  I lifted my hand and whistled. Hopefully someone from forensics would notice and come at my call; sure enough, one of the men ran up, dressed in full scrubs to keep from contaminating the scene.

  “What do you have?” he asked, and my wolf and I homed in on his subtle scent of smoke and fire.

  Witch.

  “Fibers,” I replied, pointing at the tree. “Someone’s going to have to get up there for a better look. If they left some there, they probably left more.”

  “Good eye.”

  I got out of the man’s way so he could do his job and collect evidence while I returned to my spot beneath the vic. Until we got him down, all I could do was speculate about his death. Whoever had put him up there had done it before rigor mortis had set in. It would have taken time to clean the body.

  Wherever the vic had died, it had been somewhere reasonably close.

  Had the gunshots killed him, or had he died in some other way? Evidence of strangulation was present, but I had no way of knowing if he had been strangled before or after he’d been shot—or while he was being shot. The possibilities were endless.

  The first thing I needed to do was hunt down my partner so we could get to work. I didn’t even have a name.

  I hated going into things with zero preparation.

  “Are you Agent Thomas?” the woman asked from behind me. I turned, careful to keep my motions slow and deliberate.

  The last thing I needed was to scare some Normal because my wolf was surprised she knew my name.

  A living doll stood before me, her height barely five feet, her jet-black hair just long enough to be contained in a ponytail. Amber eyes, as bright and golden as a wolf’s, looked me over while her expression remained colder than ice. Her skin, so pale I could believe she was made of porcelain, gave her an unearthly quality.

  At first glance, she was the image of beauty, but in her calculating stare, I recognized a woman who would drive a knife in my eye, twist the blade, and then drag my body up a tree and leave me hanging. She’d probably do it without staining her white blouse or wrinkling her black slacks. Unless I was off my mark, she knew how to use the gun holstered at her hip, too.

  I breathed in deep, and her scent betrayed her wariness and fear.

  I trusted my nose more than my eyes. Something had spooked the woman; my wolf’s protective instincts surged, and not just because he thought she looked young. The emotionless mask she wore was a good one. As I watched her, I realized I didn’t see even a hint of makeup on her face.

  “I am,” I said, careful to keep my wolf’s growl out of my voice. “What can I do for you?”

  Although it was early summer, my wolf had ideas about what he wanted, but I reined him in. Dealing with my wolf during the winter rut was bad enough. I didn’t need him getting the wrong ideas at a crime scene.

  I didn’t want her getting the wrong ideas about me, either, so I stuffed my hands into my pockets and waited to hear what she wanted.

  “Karma Johnson.” Instead of holding out her hand to shake with me, she looked me over. “They didn’t give you enough time to change, did they?”

  “Luggage went in one car, I went in the other, and they dropped me off here and told me to get to work.” I shrugged, taking a half step backwards so I could stare up at the vic. “Someone went to a lot of trouble putting him up there.”

  “And gave him a bath, too. How nice of them,” she muttered, soft enough I got the feeling she didn’t want me to hear. “I’ve been told you’re supposed to be my new partner.”

  “You have the advantage, Agent Johnson. They picked me up from the airport and dropped me off here, telling me there was a body they wanted me to look at.”

  All my past partners had been men, and most of them had been Fenerec, too. We’d been assigned the toughest cases, the ones the Inquisition didn’t want the FBI’s Normal agents to learn about.

  In my world, an assignment with a Normal was a step up, and my wolf was delighted.

  I knew better. There was always a catch, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it was. A woman as beautiful as the one in front of me didn’t come around every day. Agents were probably brawling for the right to be her partner.

  The FBI only wanted the best, and the Bureau was fairly traditional when it came to hiring women. Karma Johnson had to be one of the best of the best, or she wouldn’t have been hired.

  “I’m going to give it to you straight, Agent Thomas. I have a job to do. You have a job to do. Let’s leave it at that. If you can’t watch my back while we’re on duty, spare us both the bullshit.”

  The anxiety in the woman’s scent strengthened. She met my gaze with no sign of distress in her expression. If I believed my eyes and her words, I’d be waiting for her to unsheathe her claws and dig them into me.

  Courage wasn’t a lack of fear; it was facing the fear head on, and the little lady in front of me had plenty of courage.

  “You won’t have any problems with me, Agent Johnson.”

  If she wanted someone watching her back, I could do that. My wolf probably wouldn’t let me do anything other than keep a wary watch over the Normal who had captured his attention.

  I almost pitied the woman. My wolf’s interest unnerved most Normals, even the most hardened of criminals. It was part of what made Fenerec so effective in law enforcement.

  “As soon as I’m eligible, I’m applying for CARD. This is just a stepping-stone.”

  It took all my willpower to remain relaxed, and my wolf growled in my head. The violent crimes division we belonged to was dangerous enough, but the members of Child Abduction Rapid Deployment truly had to be the best of the best.

  She desired a dangerous, difficult job, and I wanted to know why. If I believed the evidence in her scent, someone had done something to her to make her fear me—or other FBI agents. I wasn’t sure which.

  I wanted to kill whoever had made the woman so wary.

  Wolves valued true strength, and it lived and breathed in delicate porcelain skin, standing right in front of me. I couldn’t help myself; I smiled and answered her challenge with a brief flash of my teeth.

  She narrowed her eyes, and I would’ve bet she was ready to kill me if her scent hadn’t betrayed her.

  “Understood,” I told her before turning my full attention to our vic. “Someone wanted to make this tricky for us. That’s an old American chestnut, and if we so much as scratch the bark getting our vic down, someone’ll have our heads. Something about the tree and blight—or not having blight.”

  “Do the forensics guys know they can’t hurt the tree?”

  “I think the rookie who delivered the message was with the forensics team.”

  “Well, shit. How are we supposed to get him down?”

  I shrugged. “We don’t. We wait for them to soften him up and take him to the lab. In the meantime, let’s get gloves, some magnifying glasses, and develop a close relationship with the tree we can’t damage that’s holding out vic hostage.”

  “Is this all we got?”

  I pointed in the direction of the nearby woods lining the highway. “Tire trails from the highway; forensics is going over them.”

  “Gloves and magnifying glasses it is, then,” Agent Karma Johnson declared, marching off to get the supplies we’d need to scour the American chestnut without damaging it.

  My wolf discovered a whole new appreciation for watching our partner’s back, and it took everything I had to ignore him. Until I learned why she looked like she wanted to kill me and smelled like I terrified her, I’d give her exactly what she wanted: a partner who would watch her back.

  No one said I couldn’t drive away any interested males, and that was enough to satisfy my wolf�
�for the moment.

  With no name, no evidence pointing in the direction of the killer, and no witnesses of use, the case was dead in the water. It joined a file full of unsolved mysteries, requiring us to fill out an excessive amount of paperwork so the FBI’s internal support staff could handle the rest.

  We spent the rest of the week in the office going over two-month old cases, which concerned and intrigued me. The time spent with Karma Johnson had taught me two important things: she only looked like she hated everybody, and everybody loved her but took care not to show it.

  As a result, I was immediately hated by everyone and became the lone wolf of the office. There were six other Fenerec hiding in plain sight, but they refused to acknowledge me. My wolf fidgeted under their silent stonewalling.

  I didn’t recognize any of them, which put them in a pack outside of my parents’ territory. Under normal circumstances, one of them would have cornered me and demanded identification plus the name of my pack and Alphas, but they avoided me and limited their interaction to glares.

  I answered them with a baring of my teeth when no one else was watching.

  I wasn’t sure what had raised their hackles, but if they wanted my partner, they’d have to go through me first. My wolf appreciated her courage and tenacity; she worked hard, long hours, she left no stone unturned, and she hunted with all the ferocity of a Fenerec while being nothing more than a Normal with an odd scent.

  The earthen aroma to her puzzled me. It wasn’t quite the signature of an earth witch; my nose told me she was Normal enough, and my wolf agreed with my assessment.

  I wanted to ask someone, but until I learned who I could trust in the local Inquisition, I’d keep my mouth shut and an eye on her. If she were a latent earth witch, she’d definitely need me watching her back.

  She’d probably drown in a mud puddle if there was no one around to fish her out.

  It wasn’t her curious scent that drove me into learning more about her, but rather the faint limp on her right side, which was accompanied by the scent of old blood. She hid it well, but I was watching her.

  I couldn’t guard her if I didn’t know what I had to guard her against. Swallowing my pride, I waited for my partner to relax enough I could leave without drawing her ire and headed for my parents’ place.

  Since she wasn’t willing to talk to me about anything other than the cases, I’d have to find out what was wrong on my own. If anyone could toss me a bone, it would be my parents.

  Instead of spending my Friday night doing something fun like a sane man, I headed to an interrogation—mine. From my new place in Baltimore, it was an hour’s drive to where the urban sprawl surrounding Washington D.C. ended and the forests began. When I arrived at my parents’ house, I punched in my access code to open the gate and drove to the front door.

  My father was waiting for me on the step, and he was growling. Since I was still a member of the Vegas pack, the hostility didn’t surprise me or my wolf. If he wanted a fight, I’d oblige him, and I bared my teeth in acceptance of his challenge.

  “Don’t you even dare,” my mother declared, stepping out of the house and pistol whipping my father upside his head. My father yelped, reaching up to rub where my mother had struck him with her gun. “We were expecting you days ago, you little shit.”

  I held my hands up in surrender. “I was on a very short leash, Mother. I apologize.”

  “A leash,” she echoed, narrowing her brown eyes, which brightened to wolf gold. “Explain.”

  If I were completely honest with myself, I would admit I’d stayed in the office longer than necessary and made myself accessible to my partner in case she decided she wanted to talk. She hadn’t, which left me looking for new ways to learn about her. While my wolf wanted Karma Johnson to give my leash a sharp yank, she didn’t hold it yet, and lying to my mother was a good way to get my ass kicked, so I stuck to the truth. “I wanted to find out if you might have any information on my assignment.”

  Leaving my father rubbing the side of his face, my mother crossed the distance between us, looked me over, and nodded. “I wondered if you’d be coming to ask me some questions.”

  “A little warning would have been nice.”

  “Not my pack, not my problem, you little shit,” she hissed, firming her grip on her unloaded handgun, one she reserved specifically for pistol whipping me or my father. I doubted the thing even worked anymore considering the number of times it had come into contact with our hard heads. “You ran away!”

  I shouldn’t have grinned, but I couldn’t help it. Arranging my transfer to Vegas, securing a spot in the Vegas pack, and doing it right under my parents’ noses was the perfect way to prove to them I wasn’t a helpless puppy.

  In a few months, they might forgive me enough to use my name instead of calling me a little shit, but I’d savor every moment.

  “You said I could subjugate him,” my father complained from the porch.

  “I lied,” my mother admitted cheerfully.

  Of all the Fenerec I knew, my mother was the slyest, able to lie without it souring her scent and betraying her. I had picked up the trick thanks to her, although I slipped from time to time.

  She never did.

  “Could we not do this right now? I have some things to do this weekend.”

  “Like what?”

  “Learning about my partner, for starters. Thought I’d steal some information from your records, go on a drive, and talk to some people.”

  My voice and my scent betrayed my concern, and my mother nodded her acknowledgment.

  By calling Karma Johnson my partner, I was telling my mother I meant to do right by the FBI agent who happened to look more like a porcelain doll than a human woman.

  “Come give your mom a hug, you naughty puppy,” my mother said, reaching for me. I leaned in and hugged her, burying my nose against her neck to breathe in her scent.

  Despite my request for a reprieve, my mother latched her teeth onto the side of my neck and bit down hard enough I yipped. Once she had a good hold on me, she took me away from Vegas’s pack. I was aware of my Alpha’s shock and surprise before my mother stole me back into her pack. The transition hurt like hell and left my head spinning. She kept me from crumpling to the pavement, and for a long time, all I could hear was the howling of wolves in my head. Once I recovered enough to stand on my own, my mother linked her arm in mine and dragged me into the house, leaving my father to follow.

  When I’d joined Vegas’s pack, the subjugation had resulted in an hour of queasiness and a headache. While I’d made it into the house, my journey ended on the couch, where I remained until sometime the next morning.

  “If you wake the puppy, I’ll kill you, cretins,” my mother warned, but my nose told me she wasn’t serious; amusement was her strongest scent, although there was a confusing assortment of other wolves nearby.

  I rolled over, groped for one of the throw cushions, and shoved it over my head. The pack would’ve felt my mother subjugate me, and in true Fenerec fashion, they had staged an invasion at the earliest she would allow, which was breakfast.

  “Better get started with the killing, babe,” my father said. I cracked open an eye to discover him perched on the arm of the couch beside my head. “They definitely woke him up.”

  “Stop encouraging her, Dad,” I grumbled, firming my hold on the cushion and smacking my father with it. “You two did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “You deserved it. Maybe if you hadn’t run away to Vegas, we wouldn’t have had to steal you back from that scrawny cop’s pack.” My father showed his teeth and growled at me.

  “Your phone has been ringing for the past two hours, by the way,” my mother called from the kitchen.

  I stifled a groan and got up, tossing the crocheted blanket to the foot of the couch. From the day I’d been born, I’d been surrounded by Fenerec, and most of the pack was crammed into the living room and kitchen. Before I’d transferred to Las Vegas, many of the pack had been co-
workers, although none of them had been working with me as a partner.

  My parents had demanded I partner with Fenerec from other packs to expand my boundaries in case the day came I decided to become an Alpha—or take over the pack from them.

  I found my phone on a charger in the kitchen and checked my messages. While I was still new to the Baltimore FBI office, I recognized the number. I was opening my contact list when my phone rang in my hand.

  “Thomas,” I answered through a yawn.

  “Where are you?” a male voice demanded in a growl, and I blinked.

  My pack fell silent around me.

  “Who is this?”

  “Carlos.”

  I hadn’t met everyone in the office yet, but if I remembered correctly, Carlos was one of the Fenerec determined to give me the cold shoulder. Why was he calling me? My least favorite suspicion was the fact he—and the other Fenerec—were ready to challenge me to establish my rank in the office hierarchy.

  Two could play that game.

  “Agent Carlos,” I greeted, swallowing another yawn. “What can I do for you?”

  “You didn’t return home last night.”

  I frowned. “You’re watching my place?” Until I could find a house, I had rented an apartment not far from the office.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re the green recruit? The violent crimes division isn’t easy or safe.”

  I sighed, wondering what the office had been told about me. Nothing, probably. “Am I being called in?”

  “No. I wanted to find out if we could have a chat with you.”

  If Carlos wanted to call me a green recruit despite my fifteen years within the violent crimes division, then I wouldn’t play fair either. If he wanted to bring other Fenerec with him for the challenge, I’d toss them to my pack and watch the fireworks. “Can you come to me?”

  “Yes.”

  I smiled and gave him my parents’ address. “I’ll be waiting.”

  After I hung up, every Fenerec in the house focused on me. Thirty or more of the pack had shown up, much to my dismay. I held my hands up in surrender. “Office politics.”