by Judy Teel
SHIFTY MAGIC
by
Judy Teel
This book is dedicated to my sister-in-law, Joyce. Thank you for always being there for me through this long, long process called becoming a novelist. You're the best sister a girl could ever have.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to the most fabulous critique group ever and especially to Joyce, Rebecca and Jeanette for also acting as beta readers (always a big job). A very special thanks to my YA beta reader, Zoe, who gave me that all-important young teen perspective. And last, but certainly not least, to my editor, Christie Stratos, who took the beta version and polished it until it sparkled. I feel very blessed to have you all in my life and on my team.
Published by Golden Angel Press LLC
Copyright © May 2013 by Judy P. Mills
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual business establishments, inventions, items, locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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Cover by For the Love of Reading Cover Design
Shifty Magic Series:
Shifty Magic
Undercover Magic
CHAPTER ONE
Charlotte, NC ~ 2033
I told myself that I wasn't worried.
The smell of death saturated the hot night air of the alley around me—rancid food, putrid animals, dead dreams. In my stomach, concern wrestled with annoyance. I hoped for Wizard's sake that she wasn't part of that trend.
"Here, bad cat," I whispered, my hand hovering close to the modified Browning BuckMark strapped to my thigh. Nothing pissed me off like losing something I loved on a steamy June night when I should've been kicking back in front of my air conditioner. Family. Sheesh.
A drop of sweat slid down between my breasts as I stepped over something slimy and crept toward the end of the alley. The loading area of the abandoned Walmart behind my apartment building was a favorite haunt of Wizard's. Plenty of mice. Plenty of other things too, but she never thought about that. Why should she? In her mind, she was invincible.
About twenty yards ahead of me, a hungry, screeching cackle sliced through the murky glow of the sporadic streetlights. I froze, my senses going on high alert. Nine years ago, cat owners only worried about other cats or maybe a stray dog getting their pets. The paranormal terrorist attacks had changed that. Turns out there's a lot more out there than humans ever thought.
As I approached the loading area, I flattened my back against the brick wall and inched toward the corner. The habit came as naturally to me as sleeping with my gun, and I'd never regretted doing either. Even though I was new to the private investigation and bounty hunter business, I had plenty of reasons to live cautiously. Life is like that when you have a knack for making enemies.
Another burst of grating jabber echoed off the back of the old Walmart and into the alley. Wizard shot past me, her fluffy tail straight out as she tore down the alley and back the way I'd come. I jumped, my heart pounding in my ears.
Grinding my teeth, I pushed down the temptation to yell at her and sucked in several gulps of air to calm my nerves. My streetwise cat's terror was a bad sign for somebody. I hoped it wasn't me.
Crouching down, I slid my gun out of its holster. With my thumb, I pressed the hidden button on the left above the grip. The pistol gave a soft snick as the vial and hollow glucose-based dissolving needles rotated into the arming chamber.
I inched forward, far enough to see past the end of the alley and into the loading area. Only one stubborn streetlight on the other side of the broken security fence cast its inadequate glow across the cracked asphalt. Shadows pushed around the edges of the open space, deepening where they cluttered up against rusty dumpsters and smashed crates.
My heart thudded against my ribs at the sight of the woman standing just inside the slash of light, huddling in on herself, shaking. She was average height and on the plump side, around twenty like me, with light brown hair. Unlike me, her boobs looked ready to spill out of the low-cut halter top she wore, and her tight micro skirt was so close to showing her goods that if she twitched, I'd be scarred for life.
Three male vamps cruised around her like sharks. Their fangs were displayed like sharp, curved knives, their features sunken parodies of a human face, more like fleshy skulls as their insatiable hunger gained control. I wondered how much money they'd offered to lure her out of her zone and into such a dangerously secluded area. Maybe all they'd needed was to promise her the erotic trip that their venom gave. Either way, she'd made a fatal error.
People were incredibly stupid about vampires. They had no idea what they were dealing with.
From the cover of the alley, I went down on one knee, my Browning gripped in both hands. I aimed at the biggest abomination, a once-human thing of about two hundred and fifty pounds, tall, broad and muscular. A prickle of intense focus skated over my skin, and I slowly squeezed the trigger.
The pistol gave a crack and kicked back; the vamp dropped like a stone. His companions froze, utterly still as only paranormals can do, and I hit the second one, a tall, dark-skinned punk with a lean street-fighter's build. That left the smallest one—light skin covered with tattoos, buzz cut black hair, and coming right at me.
I shot out of the alley as he sprang for me, ducking just as he launched. He missed my throat, latching onto my bare shoulder instead. He sank his fangs into my left deltoid and hot pain speared out into the muscle. Pulling back as we went down, I pressed the barrel of my gun into his stomach and fired.
He gurgled and went limp, a dead weight sprawled halfway across me and attached to my arm by a pair of fangs. Disgusted, I gripped his jaw and squeezed to pry open his mouth. I could already feel the first touches of warm, orgasmic ecstasy pushing at my whole being as the neurotoxin in his saliva entered my bloodstream.
In minutes it would incapacitate me, drowning my brain in bliss. Since my own special formula of poison would only keep the vamps down for about twelve minutes, I had to work fast or face the consequence of three furious monsters when I came to. If I even did.
Wiggling his limp head around, I yanked his fangs out of my shoulder, not caring too much if a few small pieces of me went with him. The extra bleeding was an advantage, since it would carry his spit out with it.
Free of his teeth, I shoved the vamp off me and rolled to a crouch. The girl had sunk to the ground right where she'd stood, wrapping her arms around herself as she sobbed quietly. Reaching around my back, I unclipped a Paranormal Restraining Collar from my belt.
Ignoring the blood running down my arm, I rolled to my feet and sprinted across the asphalt of the loading area to the first vamp I'd shot. I put the sole of my work boot against his thick, beefy shoulder and shoved
him onto his back. Leaning down, I snapped open the PRC and secured it around his neck. The collar activated on contact, sending out an electromagnetic pulse that interfered with the extra vampire DNA in his cells.
The indicator light turned white then switched to dark red and held steady. His face immediately smoothed out into his non-feeding normal, showing clean, square-cut features that could be called handsome if you had a taste for lumberjacks. When he regained consciousness, the weakening effect of the collar would keep him feeling like crap as long as it maintained contact.
A wave of dizziness washed through me as if I'd just slugged down my fourth martini, and I was tempted to lock my remaining collar around the tattooed throat of the moron who'd taken a chunk out of me. Common sense won out. All vamps were strong and quick, but some more than others. I turned and slapped my other PRC on the lean, tough-looking fighter who'd dropped to the ground next to the girl.
"I was so close," she moaned quietly as she rocked back and forth. "I wanted to see what it was like."
"It sucks," I said, my words slurring a bit around the edges. Not a good sign. I fumbled with the button on the Browning and finally managed the two consecutive jabs that opened the arming chamber above the barrel. Forcing myself to concentrate, I shook out the vial of vamp poison.
Flicking the hinged metal cap open with my thumbnail, I shook out a few drops of the oregano oil formula into the two puncture wounds. A smell like homemade spaghetti sauce mixed with dirt floated up from my shoulder as the bloody holes bubbled and hissed and burned like hell. A moment later, my head started clearing. What knocked out or killed a vamp was an antidote for humans.
"What are you doing out of the zones?" I asked, checking the liquid level of the vial before reloading it. There was just enough left for one discharge. If the biter by the alley came to, I'd need it. The risk of the cops detecting my slightly illegal concoction in his blood stream was a better option than getting my head ripped off. Vampires didn't like the idea of humans running around with something that could kill them, but I found it comforting.
"Everyone says getting bit is the best feeling in the world," she said, her tone forlorn. "And they offered me a thousand dollars."
I glanced at the unconscious vamp who wasn't collared. "They would've drained you."
She unwrapped her arms from around herself and brushed back the mop of curls that had fallen over her face. "Might have been worth it," she said with a bitter laugh.
"You been walking the streets long?" I asked. She had to be new to have done something this dangerous.
She shrugged. "Since my ex kicked me out."
"What's your name?"
"Blood Kitten," she said, tossing me a defiant look.
A disbelieving snort came out before I could stop myself. "May I call you Blood, or do you prefer Ms. Kitten?"
Her blue eyes narrowed on me. "All you paranormals are the same, especially you Weres and practitioners. You think humans can't take care of themselves. I'm plenty tough."
She obviously had no idea what it took to survive as a human these days. I did. "Three vamps. One girl. Stupid choice."
Her bravado faded. She crossed her arms over her ample chest and rubbed her bare arms with her hands. "The money would have helped."
"Not if you're dead." A flicker of movement took my attention away from her, and my finger tensed on the trigger of my gun. "Great," I muttered as the blur of the fast moving vamp I hadn't collared disappeared down the alley. Now who was making stupid mistakes?
My shoulder picked that moment to demand attention by giving the impression that a hot poker had been shoved into it. I pulled a med patch out of the front pocket of my jeans. Tearing open the thick foil wrapper with my teeth, I took out the quarter-inch thick, thumb-sized square and pressed the button for medium. The patch expanded, thinning out to about three inches square—Band aid, coagulant, antiseptic and numbing agent all in one miracle. I slapped it over the wound on my arm.
The prostitute's eyes widened with fear as she stared at the alley. "Aren't you going after it?"
Behind us, a wheezing hiss came from the big vamp I'd downed first. The leg of the one next to us twitched and a moment later, his eyes snapped open, unfocused and disoriented, but a normal human brown instead of the blood-engorged red of a hungry vamp.
"Of course," I said, gripping the woman's arm and moving us back out of range. "In the high-powered rocket cruiser you see parked beside me."
She pulled out of my hand, and her lower lip stuck out in an annoying pout that customers probably found alluring. "You don't have to be so mean."
"Fun is where you find it." A siren echoed in the distance, coming toward us fast. "Hope your license is up to date."
A black and white careened through the broken gate of the loading area and came to a stop, splashing a steady pulse of bright red light across us and the bodies of the twitching, groaning vamps. The driver got out first, a good-looking, clean cut guy who looked enough like the actor, Bruce Lee, to be his twin.
"Addison Kittner, I should have known," Jim said, his expression turning friendly and appreciative the way a man's did when he'd gone out with a woman once and hoped to again.
"Officer Norton," I said, emphasizing the formality. I liked Jim, but not in the way he hoped I would, and I didn't want him thinking otherwise.
His grin widened, then he noticed my arm and concern replaced the flirting. "You're wounded."
"Not seriously. The third grazed me and took off. Officer Foster," I added, ignoring Jim to acknowledge his partner as he got out of the cruiser. Kyle Foster was taller than Jim, closer to six feet, with the kind of pleasant, boy-next-door face that mothers approved of when they saw it coming through their door. Unfortunately, his good looks were paired up with a tedious personality.
"What happened?" he asked as he studied the vamps lying on the ground. With a moan, the skinny one rolled over and threw up a half liter of blood—not a pretty sight. Apparently temporarily human stomachs couldn't tolerate the delicacies of the vampire diet.
"I heard an altercation and came to investigate," I said.
"And subdued two vamps?" Kyle's expression reflected his doubt.
"They were getting ready to feed. I took advantage while they were distracted."
"Uh huh." He focused on the girl for a moment and then switched back to me. "You got your scanner on you?"
Suspicion tightened across my shoulders. "Why?"
"Our iC's nearly out of juice," Jim said pleasantly as he moved past Kyle to stand just a little too close to me. "We were on our way back to the precinct when the PRC call came in. There's only enough charge left to get a download from your scanner."
I unclipped the device from the left side of my belt and handed it to him. "Be my guest."
Unlike theirs, at five years old my paranormal scanner was considered ancient technology. It consisted of a chunk of black metal an inch bigger than a deck of cards all around and a half-inch thick with a couple screens on the face of it. Not as sexy as the stuff they built into the iCommunicators now, but it was tough and ran twice as long on its energy chip. When you're out all night without access to a recharger, good-looking doesn't mean crap to you.
Jim fiddled with the unit for a moment, finally locating the "on" button at the bottom. "Sorry," he said as he aimed the energy sig bar on the top at me and swept the device down the front of my body. "Gotta follow policy."
The scanner beeped and the narrow Species Type strip on the front showed yellow. Below it, a bigger screen displayed a list of pertinent information like licensing, birthdate and so on. "Human," Jim reported to Kyle, per police procedure.
I enjoyed watching the girl's expression of shock.
"Addison Kittner, nineteen. Recently," he added, giving me a wink. "Five-eight, one hundred thirty-five pounds, black hair, dark blue eyes. Licensed private investigator and bounty hunter since 2032."
Jim saved my scan and went through the same steps with the Kitten chick. The ba
r flickered between purple and yellow, and he gave the device a couple of smacks against his palm. "How old is this thing?"
"Old enough to handle a dunking in the Ballantyne fountain and keep working," I said smugly. The night we'd met chasing the same arsonist, his fancy pants iC hadn't fared too well.
After a second, the species reading settled confidently on yellow, and Jim's amused gaze flashed briefly at me. "Human," he said to Kyle. "Kathy Wagner, twenty-four."
At that age, she should know better than to put herself in danger and not to pout about it if she did, I thought.
"Five-three, one hundred and forty, brown hair, blue eyes," Jim continued. "Licensed for solicitation in Charlotte, 2031, Zone 9. Expires in two weeks." He gave Kathy a pointed look.
Jim stepped over to the lumberjack. He squatted down next to the vamp, who after fifteen minutes in the collar was curled up in a fetal position drooling. With the suppression of the PRC, the scanner wouldn't give an accurate reading, so Jim pushed the device against the vampire's neck and pressed another button that shot a sterilized needle into the skin to get a sample of blood.
He gave a low whistle as information scrolled up the scanner's screen. Glancing at me, worry flashed across his features. He stepped over to the other vamp who had his teeth clamped together refusing to give in to the nausea and pain the collar caused. Jim repeated the procedure and the concern tightening around his eyes deepened.
"Well?" Kyle asked, pulling a thin, sleek iC out of his pocket to receive the info.
"We'll have to call this one in so they can be ready for us." Jim inched back from the two vamps and unclipped the holster lock on his gun. "Addison's caught herself a couple of High Church renegades."
Kathy Wagner burst into tears.
