Magically Betrayed: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Hunted Witch Agency Book 3)

by Rachel Medhurst

  “You’re talking about using a witch spell to protect warlock magic?” Maxwell asked, his eyes wide.

  Kurt cleared his throat. “That’s not a bad idea. We’ll just use the Essex witch.”

  “Excuse me?” My mother choked. “Use me?”

  Shrugging, my boss kept his face impassive. “Yes.”

  My father put a hand on my mother’s shoulder when she went to step forward. “No one uses my wife. Ever. She’s a powerful Essex witch and has offered to help in any way she can. However, she deserves the respect of at least being asked.”

  Bowing his head, Kurt actually looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. Would you mind terribly if we asked you to help us protect the whole of the warlock race, including your husband, with your super-duper powers?”

  My mouth dropped open, my gaze flying to Gerard as he put a hand on my arm. Was he holding me back?

  “Well, as you asked so nicely,” my mother said, an amused smile coming to her lips. “I’d be happy to help. Minion.”

  Laughter exploded around us as Kurt grinned. I had never seen my mother make others laugh. She was quite a serious witch. Now I knew why. The pressure of being one of four witches in charge of the ley lines must rest heavy on her shoulders. A part of me wished I could help her with the burden, but I quickly shook the thought away. I’d learnt my lesson in responsibility when I’d been leader of the warlocks. And, I’d decided that I wasn’t grown up enough to handle it. I was better off just being a measly agent.

  “Right, Maxwell, are you happy with our proposal?” Justina cut through the mirth.

  Wiping his eye, he agreed, a jolly expression on his face. A weight had lifted away, instantly making him lighter.

  The sound of a bullet ricocheting off the pole above our heads made us duck in unison. Kurt circled to the right, Gerard went left. My mother held my arm tight, stopping me from moving. There was no way I was staying out of a fight if there was one.

  “Get under cover,” Justina told us as another bullet whizzed past my ear.

  Boy, that was close. Adrenaline pulsed through me as I shoved my mother behind me. We needed the Essex witch more than the half breed. Plus, it was my mother. I’d lost her once, I wouldn’t lose her again.

  “You need to get out of here,” I said, pushing her to go as I got my dagger out of my pocket.

  “I told you,” my mother said, gesturing to my hand. “You need to stop using the Essex dagger.”

  The memory of her telling me that when she first saw it came into my mind. I couldn’t remember what explanation she’d given for her warning, but I hadn’t heeded it.

  “We’ll talk about it later.”

  My mother squeaked as another bullet hit the ground near our feet. They were aiming for us. Looking over my shoulder, I searched the field. There wasn’t anyone in plain sight. Ah, so they were hiding. Were they afraid?

  My father grabbed my mother’s hand and dragged her behind the climbing frame. It wasn’t exactly perfect, but it would do. The bullets were still landing around me. Either the person wasn’t trying to kill me, or they were an awful shot. Either way, they hadn’t followed my parents, which meant I was the target.

  “I’m going,” I told Justina as she hid behind a bin.

  Running across the park, I held my dagger tight as I spotted someone behind a car that was parked on the road beside the grassy area.

  Gerard and Kurt were searching the park, not taking any notice of the vehicles just outside it. Stupid agents. I wasn’t even on duty, and yet, I was heading straight towards the subject.

  The bullets were smacking into the earth behind me. Behind me? Ah…

  Whispering an invisibility spell, I laughed to myself when the bullets slowed. They couldn’t see me. Perfect.

  Approaching the car, I hunched over to make myself smaller. The others were still searching for the shooter. The man behind the black hatchback was staring at the park. He hadn’t even been watching me. In fact, he was whispering a spell.

  My dagger was held before me as I stepped right next to him and dropped my invisibility spell. He backed up, his hands covering his face. My feet stuck to the ground, unable to move at all.

  “Release me, or I’ll unleash my own magic,” I said through clenched teeth.

  His arms lowered as I flung the dagger towards him without letting go, releasing a stream of yellow magic. It wrapped around his wrists, trapping him. Dropping his arms slightly, he muttered something. My feet softened, the spell now broken.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  The bullets were no longer being fired. Had he been controlling them? Maybe he’d planted a gun somewhere and hidden so he could perform his magic away from the weapon.

  “I’m an ambassador from Supernatural MI5. I’m protecting your mother.”

  What now? I’d heard Justina mention the Supernatural MI5 several times, but they dealt with murders and serial killers. Why would they send someone to protect my mother?

  “Here, look at my ID.” He got it out, flashing it in a flamboyant manner. “Don’t look at me like that. Why do all agency agents judge us?”

  Er. I wasn’t judging any one. Stupid MI5 agent with his high powered job.

  “You need to come with me.” Going to take his arm, I swore when he flashed away.

  Ah, crap, I’d let my guard down. Just because he was an agent, didn’t mean I should’ve been light with him. Wait. How did I know he was an actual agent? He could’ve stolen the ID.

  “Devon?” Gerard came around the car, his gun held out in front of him. “Who were you speaking to?”

  Tucking my dagger away, I stamped my foot. “An MI5 agent just claimed that he was protecting my mother. Did you catch the shooter?”

  Frowning, Gerard checked over the car and opened the door, pulling out documents from the glovebox. The vehicle did have a government smell to it.

  “Yes, it’s a warlock who knows the secret. He thought Maxwell was selling them out to the agency.”

  Rolling my eyes, I stepped back as Gerard came closer. His mouth was set in a grim line. Was there a reason he was looking unimpressed? With me?

  “You’re not supposed to be working.”

  Waving away his words, I bit my lip. I wasn’t technically working, I was running away from gunfire. That didn’t count.

  “Gerard,” Kurt called as he approached. “Take the gunman into custody, please.”

  Doing as he was told, Gerard ignored me as I followed him. My gaze accidentally traced his tight bum as he bent to pick something up from the floor. I missed the easiness between us. Well, it hadn’t ever really been easy, but…

  “You,” Kurt snapped, pointing at me. “I know you’re trained to automatically protect, but you’re supposed to be off duty. Especially after your blood stunt.”

  “It wasn’t a stunt!”

  When he came to stand in front of me, his hands on his hips, I pretended to zip my mouth shut. There was no point in getting defensive with Kurt. He wouldn’t accept it. Ever.

  “You’ve been given orders.”

  Straightening my spine, I stared him in the eye. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have got involved. I’m not very good at being protected by someone else. Acting the damsel isn’t my style at all. Have you seen what I’m wearing today?”

  Eyeing my tatty, ripped, dark purple jeans and black military jacket with short sleeves, Kurt screwed up his face. “What has that got to do with anything?”

  Justina joined us, her light eyes shrewd as I stood there, looking between them. All sorts of explanations came to my mind, but I decided to shut up and let them chastise me.

  “Gerard’s given me these documents from that agent. I’ll ring MI5 and find out what the hell they were playing at. You…” She pointed at me. “…Meet me in my office in an hour. It’s about time we found out the origin of the spell that’s going to wipe out the warlocks.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Mother, you know this grimoire better than
anyone,” I said, gesturing for her to join me at Justina’s desk.

  Her cheeks turned pink as Justina turned to stare at her. Kurt had taken Maxwell home, while Gerard questioned the shooter. I missed my man. Well, my partner man. We hadn’t been the same since I had been rescued from Helena. Maybe we never would be.

  “I never studied that grimoire, darling,” my mother said, coming over. “It’s not my grimoire. I stole it from Helena just before we were taken. It’s been under your protection ever since.”

  My gaze clashed with Justina’s. “That would explain why there were spells ripped out of it. She must have taken them before you got hold of it.”

  Opening the book, I scanned the first page. The paper was thin, soft to the touch. The writing was script, formed from a quill and ink. A warm feeling washed over me as I looked over the letters.

  “I always assumed that this was your grimoire.” I looked at my mum as she sat next to me. Justina lowered herself into a chair on the other side of me. “But, this is much older.”

  “Exactly. Did you never look at it?”

  Dropping my gaze to the page when she tried to search it, I read the Latin words. These were spells I had learnt as a child.

  “No, I couldn’t bear it.”

  Her arm came around me, her fingers stroking the hair back from my face. “I’m sorry, lovely. I promise we’ll never leave you again.”

  Something in her gaze made me trust her. I’d felt a little disconnected, unsure. My trust issues had stemmed from abandonment, which made sense, and yet, my parents were here.

  “We need to find the strongest protection spell in the book.” Justina interrupted our gazing session.

  Flipping the page, I studied the spells. Barrier spells, invisibility spells, and even a love spell. Wow, woman had always been obsessed with getting men to love them. Why all the fuss? Men were smelly, and irritating, and…

  Gerard walked in, his hair tussled and the stubble on his chin longer than usual.

  …And, completely irresistible. Ugh.

  “The shooter was one of Isaac’s friends. He knew the secret and guarded it with his life. When he saw that Devon was close by, he was afraid she was going to steal the leadership back from Maxwell.” And, his voice was so deep and husky.

  “There,” my mother said, slamming her hand on the book to stop me aimlessly turning the pages as I stared at Protector Mac-amazing. “That’s… Devon, is that…?”

  I was almost at the end of the book. The pages were just as stained of age as the others, and yet, there was something about the writing that was different.

  Leaning over my shoulder, Justina gasped as her finger traced the ink. “That’s your writing.”

  Slapping my tongue, I reached for a glass of water to wet my dry mouth. It certainly looked similar. It couldn’t be, though, it was slightly messier, if that was even possible. I’d never been a magician at writing or spelling. But…

  “That is your writing,” my mother said. “I’d recognise that anywhere. Darling…” She called my father who was reading the newspaper. “Will you go and get the letter I’ve held sacred, please?”

  Looking over his glasses, he nodded once before laying the paper on a side table. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help us, but he had learnt it was better to let the witches deal with witch business. It was a favourite saying of his when I was a kid.

  “How can this be my handwriting?” I stared, unable to comprehend what I was seeing.

  My Latin wasn’t very good. Since I’d embraced my warlock side, Isaac hadn’t kept up my witch training, which meant my witch skills in reading spells were no longer as good as they used to be.

  Justina’s sharp intake of breath made me glance at her. Shoving from her seat, she paced in front of the desk, coming to a stop in front of Gerard. “The spell is the one created to kill a type of race. The ingredients are pretty simple. The source of magic. Blood from someone born of the race. And, a hell of a lot of magic.”

  “It’s like we thought,” Gerard said, his gaze not leaving Justina.

  They had been speaking without me? Of course, that made sense, but it still hurt. My grandmother had caused me more pain than she realised.

  An image came into my mind suddenly. I was a girl, sitting at a big wooden table. The grimoire was in front of me.

  “Devon?” The sound of my mother’s voice brought me back suddenly.

  Shaking my head, I looked at her. “I had a flashback. I wasn’t there long enough to know what was happening, but I was a child.”

  Gerard stepped around Justina. Reading the spell in front of me, he concentrated for much longer than necessary.

  “We need to do a memory spell on Devon,” he muttered, turning to Justina again. “If she can remember how this spell came to be in the book, it might help us in the investigation.”

  Why were they treating me as if I wasn’t even in the room? Before, he would’ve asked me. Now he was treating me like they had treated Lilia when she was first rescued. Almost ordering her to do their bidding.

  “My daughter gets to decide what she’s going to do to help the investigation.” My mum got to her feet. “Ever since she’s been rescued from my mother, you’ve told her that she’s not allowed to work, and yet, you’re using her for all she can give. I won’t tolerate it.”

  Tears popped into my eyes unbidden. Letting my hair fall forward, I wiped the threat away from the corner of my eye.

  Justina came to sit next to me again. “Julia, you’re right. I’m sorry, Devon, I was supposed to be helping you with your trauma. And, instead, I’m taking advantage.”

  “No. I want to work. I know I shouldn’t get away with taking the blood. I know I’ve been reactive. But, I’m feeling better every day. This is giving me focus. I understand if you don’t want me in the field, but I can do this.”

  I wasn’t lying. I had to stop my grandmother before she got to the tree. Now that I was aware of what she wanted, I knew that she would stop at nothing to get it. She knew. She wasn’t stupid. If she finally found the location of the warlock’s source of magic, nothing would stop her from destroying them.

  “Okay, can everyone leave the room? I’d like to do this with Devon alone.”

  The others did as Justina asked, not bothering to look at me as they left. I got it. They probably thought I was such a nut case; they didn’t want to be there when I broke apart. Or, maybe they actually thought I could handle it, so I didn’t need their pity. Either way, I was glad to be alone with Justina.

  “Let’s get you comfortable,” she said, indicating my favourite chair in the room.

  Going over to it, I settled, curling my legs under me. Justina sat opposite, her blonde hair tucked behind her ear, her gaze soft. The hard agent act was gone.

  “I’ve had this spell done on me. The night my father was killed, I went into complete shock. My mother was a good witch, but she wasn’t great.”

  “Was?” I asked, only just realising that she hadn’t spoken much about her mother.

  Her gaze dropped for a second before looking at me again. “I rarely tell anyone this, but she committed suicide after my father was killed.”

  With my stomach churning, I slowly got up to my feet and went over. She frowned when I bent down and wrapped my arms around her. A hiccup escaped her as she hugged me back.

  “Why didn’t you tell me she committed suicide?” Tears ran down my cheeks as I left her to go back to my chair.

  Her small smile was hidden as she wiped her eyes. “Because it’s painful. My father’s death was caused by someone else. My mother chose to leave me behind.”

  Cuddling my knees to my chest, I watched her shoulders drop. “Sometimes people’s emotions are so very heavy and dark, they don’t feel like they have a choice. They don’t realise that emotions change every single day.”

  The twitch of her eyebrow made me fear that I’d said something wrong. When our gaze met, she nodded briefly as she cleared her throat.

  “Yo
u sound like you know the feeling.”

  Looking at the leather bands around my wrist, I tugged on one. “I think most people have those thoughts at some point in their life. I always remember Isaac telling me that no matter what I feel today, without fail, it will feel different tomorrow. So, when it feels like it’s the end, it’s good to reach out to someone, because they will show that there is always a new beginning.”

  Justina buried her head in her hands, her sobs echoing in the room. I didn’t get up again, instead allowing her grief to feel free to run. My own throat was tight, the tears trickling down the side of my nose.

  “Thank you,” she eventually said, lifting her head once she’d calmed. “That makes me look at it in a different way.”

  Her blotchy cheeks were pink, her eyes red. I smiled as I took a deep breath, ready to get to work.

  “I know I’m not in the best place, but the more I focus on catching Helena, the better I’m feeling. I’m ready to do the work needed to get better from my trauma. If you want me in therapy every day, so be it, I will be there.”

  Inclining her head, Justina closed her eyes briefly. “I want you working, too. However, since Lucia was attacked, I have to keep you out of the field. I’m happy to sign you up for therapy with someone else. Every day until you’re ready to work properly again. In the meantime, you can do background work with your parents.”

  “That sounds reasonable to me. Please, can I just ask? How did you cope with losing your parents? Especially your mum. I’ve been struggling to try and not feel resentment for mine. I understand why they thought they were doing the best for me, but I wonder if that was the case.”

  My inner child was hurting. The pain in my chest was laced with anger towards my whole family. I felt completely betrayed.

  “I resented my mother for a long time. I was old enough to look after myself by then, but I went off the rails. Ended up getting addicted to vampire blood-”

  “What?” Her confession caused me sit up.