Werewolves of Waresville: Supernatural Witch Cozy Mystery (Harper “Foxxy” Beck Series Book 7)

by Raven Snow

  Ouch. "I thought I lived here."

  His sigh was full of impatience. "You do live here. I meant what are you doing here when you have a killer to catch?"

  My startled look must have given away my thoughts of surprise, because he smiled unhappily. "You have that bloodhound look in your eye. Crazed."

  "It looks good on me, though, right?"

  That earned me a little smile. "Yeah, it does."

  "It's Felly," I blurted. "She's the killer. Her and Niddle were involved. I don't know what the connection is to Mason, but I think it's money related."

  "Why are you telling me this? It's Kosher's case."

  But he wasn't fooling me. Wyatt was leaning silently forward, just as excited as me. If I was a bloodhound, then so was he. For all Wyatt didn't like me putting myself in danger, he understood the reasons, the compulsion. He'd built his life around the thrill of the chase.

  "I'm on my way to take her down—I'll figure out how on the way. Probably a blow to the head and a whole hell of a lot of handcuffs." I shuffled a bit. "I was just about to go when I realized I was missing something."

  He raised an eyebrow. "A plan?"

  "No," I said, being cute. "My snookums. I want you to go with me. I want us to be a team." I paused. "I also don't want to get married in a church."

  He walked down the stairs with exaggerated patience, coming to a stop in front of me. "But you do want to get married? Without a doubt?"

  "I'm doubtless."

  "Finally." He wrapped his arms around me, and it felt so good I was cool with putting off our hunt.

  "Date," I said, suddenly, not really sure where the word had come from, only that it was important.

  Wyatt pulled back slightly, not completely letting go of me. "You want to go on more dates?"

  "No, er, yes, but that's not the point. I don't think." I frowned. "Even with you here, I feel like I've forgotten something."

  "And it has to do with us dating?"

  My eyes widened, and I grabbed Wyatt by the collar of his shirt. It was almost impossible to breathe while my memory kicked in, and it all came flooding back to me. In all fairness, I'd been a little focused on the case and Biscuit to remember the small details of Kline's personal life.

  "Agent Kline is on a date with Felly."

  "Hope he brought his piece."

  I whipped out my phone and the card that Kline had given me. To my shame, I'd been carrying it around for the past few days, wondering if it'd be easier to give the agent what he wanted. From the look Wyatt shot me, he was wondering why I had a strange guy's number on my person. Man, would I have a lot of explaining to do when this was all over.

  "Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up," I muttered into the speaker as the phone rang. It went to voice message, and I swore loud enough to offend the whole neighborhood and turn Wyatt's cheeks a little pink.

  "Are you sure he's on the date right now?" Wyatt asked.

  "No," I said lamely. "He could be at his lodgings relaxing for all I know. But I've never been that lucky before."

  "Not even when you met me?"

  My lips twitched, and I pressed them to his. "That was more like fate than luck."

  We separated after that, all business—except for the playful smack Wyatt gave my ass before he ran inside to get weapons. Telling him about Biscuit's predicament had seemed like crucial information, since it was the reason I was magically lacking at the moment.

  Figures, I finally overcome my fear of magic, and I still can't use it in a fight. I wasn't too broken up about it, though. I'd never feel completely comfortable with my power, no matter how much soul searching I did.

  When Wyatt came back out, he was loaded up like a true soldier. I took a moment to admire the view as he bent over to place a gun in his ankle holster. He turned to me, handing me a smaller version of the one he'd just put away.

  I shook my head, pulling out the gun I'd stolen earlier. "I've got my own."

  "Actually," he said, "You've got mine. You don't own a gun."

  "Everything you have is mine, and everything I have is mine."

  "Seems about right."

  We took Wyatt's car because it was actually his, and it was equipped with sirens. I enjoyed the feeling of being back at his side, taking on the world. Our relationship had started out like this, and I didn't know what had happened along the way, how we got separated. Whatever the reason, I was glad to be partners again.

  "What're you thinking about?" he said, risking a glance at me in the low light.

  "Just that I love you."

  "Oh, is that all?" He made a sharp turn, bringing us up close to the woods where both Niddle and Mason were chased. The rangers had found trace elements of their blood on the trees when they'd found their clothes. They may wear funny outfits, but those guys were handy in a werewolf case.

  The woods weren't nearly as scary with Wyatt by my side. We walked through, keeping our backs to each other, so we could keep our eyes on the most amount of space. There were ominous sounds and movements, but no one showed themselves as we tracked our way back through the crime scene. To my surprise, we came out in the clearing where Biscuit was being held, just the opposite side where I'd come in before. I was pretty bad with directions.

  Biscuit barked at us in alarm, and I noticed a body on the ground not far from his cage. It was Kline. I could see him breathing, but I didn't know how much longer that would be going on if we didn't get him out of here. He had a large, painful looking bump on his forehead. At least, he wasn't naked.

  I ran over to him, shaking him none too gently. Sure, I came to save his life, but he was still the bully trying to shut down my business and altogether ruin my life in the quest for information. I didn't have to be nice about his rescue or like it.

  "Harper? Wha—?" He groaned loudly, clutching his head. "Where's Felicity? We were talking a walk."

  "In the woods?" I asked dryly.

  "With a killer werewolf on the loose?" Wyatt finished for me, crouching down next to us and inspecting Kline's wound. His hands were sure and steady, reminding me that he'd probably seen his fair share of battle wounds.

  "See," I said, "I'm not the only one who's ever had a bad idea."

  Kline swatted Wyatt's hands away, though the effort jostled him and cost him more than a little pain. "I'm an armed federal agent," he said by way of explanation.

  I didn't see that gun, but as Wyatt and I had an armory between us, that didn't seem important. Rubbing his failure in Kline's face on the other hand, seemed of the utmost importance. Possibly more important than any task I had ever undertaken.

  "Felly's a werewolf, you dolt," I said gleefully. "In fact, she's the one who killed those men."

  "What?"

  I opened my mouth to tell Kline all about the evidence I'd stacked up against his girlfriend, but a growl from the edge of the woods interrupted me. Emerging from the shadows, a wolf snarled its way closer to us, only stopping when Wyatt straightened and pulled a gun.

  Felly's fur was brown and gray, almost like a calico cat but with different colors. It perfectly matched the combined hair on the hood of my car and on the first victim.

  "That makes sense," I said, though my mind was on Boone. Was it possible he was the innocent psychopath in all of this? Then why had he tried to scare me away from the case?

  Felly hit the ground, her bones and limbs doing the unmistakable limbo that meant she was changing back to human. Kline and Wyatt made gagging noises, like I had my first time. It was funny to see how far my stomach had traveled in these past few days.

  "Should I shoot her?" Wyatt asked, looking like he wanted to, if only to make her stop the nauseating show.

  "She might be trying to give herself up peacefully," I said, with more than just a smidgen of doubt.

  Kline growled—it was pretty good for human voice chords. "Hurt her, and I'll kill you, Bennett."

  He had struggled to his feet, though he was swaying badly, and was staring at my future hubby with open hostil
ity. Wyatt looked back at him, his face expressionless but more dangerous than I'd ever seen it. He looked about ready to strike, so I stepped between the two of them.

  "Play nice, children," I said, playing the part of the voice of reason for once in my life. "Wyatt, cut Kline some slack. He just found out his bonnie lass is a murderous she-wolf. Kline, stop protecting your murderous she-wolf."

  "I didn't want to hurt anyone," Felly said, fully human now and completely naked.

  Wyatt, after a look at me, smartly looked away. On the other hand, Kline looked a little heated under the collar, staring openly. I almost smacked him upside the head, but then I remembered my own command not to protect the murderous she-wolf.

  "Of course, you didn't," Kline said, stepping forward to join her.

  Both Wyatt and I grabbed the back of his suit, pulling him away from Felly's general direction. It was nice to do things as a couple.

  "James...." She swallowed audibly. "He was going to leave me."

  "After supporting you for years," I said blandly. "You couldn't have that."

  "I—I just lost it." She had the decency to look ashamed, at least. "When he ran...."

  I saw her eyes come alive in a way that reminded me of Boone, and I had to force myself not to take a step back. Kline wasn't able to follow my example, and he almost stumbled over his own feet. Felly's eager eyes tracked that movement with open hunger.

  "Why take the clothes off your victims?" Wyatt asked. He hadn't even hesitated to stand his ground.

  "James was already naked," she said, to Kline's dismay. "He had a thing for outdoor sports. But I found that it made the smell stronger—more enticing."

  "You lost control." It wasn't a question. I said, "And then you tried to recreate it, because it felt too good."

  Gross.

  Felly nodded. "Boone has been telling me about the thrill of the kill for years, but this...." She breathed in through her nose, taking in our scents and leaning forward. For the first time in my life, I was glad I was wearing a lot of clothes.

  "Why help Biscuit, then, if it was you all along?"

  Her gaze turned towards my wolf with fondness, a camaraderie of sorts. "Biscuit and I run together."

  Which is probably where he picked up the credit card, I thought.

  "I really didn't want to hurt anyone," she said.

  My mouth twisted unhappily, because I believed her. But it didn't change anything, and we both knew that. The standoff was coming, and the only thing I was unsure about—besides who could come out on top—was where Kline would stand.

  The agent moved closer to Wyatt, his face drawn. "Your intentions don't matter, Felicity. Only your actions."

  Twist.

  "I'm sorry it has to be this way," Felly said.

  I snorted, unable to help myself. "Said every serial killer ever. Try some originality."

  By some invisible signal, Wyatt put his gun up, and Felly began to move. He got off one shot before Felly was on him. I dived after her, trying to nudge her away from Wyatt, but she'd already taken his gun, moving faster than fast.

  A crunch sounded, and Wyatt cried out. His dominant arm was bent at an odd angle, and he fell to the ground, taking my heart with him. My eyes fell on Felly's falsely remorseful face, and I saw red.

  Launching myself at her, we went down in a fury of fists. I dredged up the last bit of magic I had left and threw it directly at her face. The light blinded me, but I heard Felly scream with satisfaction and smelled the scent of burning flesh.

  Her nails drug into my throat, and I yelled, still only seeing the imprint of the explosion of magic. Just as my vision started to clear, Kline yanked Felly off of me. He punched her square in the face, not pulling an ounce of his strength.

  "Damn, Kline," I said. "You sure know how to punch a lady."

  Behind us, Biscuit howled and drove his body against the cage, trying to get out. Kline went in for another blow, but Felly caught his fist. They looked at each other for a tension filled second, and then she went for his jaw. The blow was spectacular, and even from this distance, I could see Kline's eyes roll back in his head as he dropped to the ground.

  While Felly sniffed at Kline's fallen form, I crawled over to Wyatt. Inside me, I felt empty. The place where magic had always been was now barren. I'd thought it would feel good, but I just felt drained. I felt like someone else. Someone far less awesome.

  Wyatt lay sweating on the ground, his face contorted in pain. His arm was broken in at least two places, and his gun was twisted into a pile of useless metal at his feet.

  "Get out of here, Harper," he panted. "Run and get help."

  But what he meant was "run and save yourself." I shook my head, a watery smile tugging at my lips. Didn't he know I wasn't smart enough to leave him behind?

  Felly grabbed me by my hair, dragging me away from Wyatt, kicking and screaming. He immediately started coming after me, but Felly's foot collided with his arms, and he went down as hard as Kline had.

  "Just us girls now," I grit out, trying to free myself from her.

  She picked up one of Wyatt's guns that had fallen away from him, brandishing it in my face. "Not for long."

  "What? Not going to eat me?"

  She looked me up and down, the smile on her face giving me chills. "No offense, but you're not exactly my type.

  "Harsh." My mouth went off, trying to buy me some time to refuel. "Tell me, did you love him at all or just his family's money?"

  Her burned face snarled at me. "You know nothing about love."

  "I know you don't eat the ones you love—at least not in a cannibalistic way."

  The comment distracted her for a scant second, and I wrenched away from her. Reaching deep inside myself, I tried to find even the smallest sliver of magic. If only Whale, my familiar, had been there. He could have amplified my powers. But as usual, he was off doing his own thing, and I was toast.

  Felly was just a half second quicker than me with the gun, and I heard the thing go off. My body flinched of its own accord, though I didn't really feel anything yet. Looking down, I saw blood starting to pool on my jeans.

  The injured leg crumpled beneath me, and I went down, my concentration shot. It was all I could do to keep my eyes on Felly, let alone mount a magical attack. Biscuit howled for me, the sound angry and mournful at the same time.

  Felly crouched in front of me, her nails looking especially sharp in the moonlight. I waited for the death blow, but apparently, she wanted to talk some more. I couldn't decide what was worse, dying young or her breath.

  "I did love him," she said, "in my own way. But he was human, and I'm—"

  "A murderer."

  Her stare pierced me. "Funny. I thought you'd understand. We may look human some of the time, but we're not, are we? Not even close."

  She nodded at Wyatt, and I stiffened at her regard. That was my man. She'd hurt him, and therefore, didn't have the right to look at him or breathe ever again.

  "You love him as much as your nature will allow."

  "No," I said. "I just love him. We're getting married."

  Reeling back a bit, she said, "You would bind yourself forever to a human? He can't possibly begin to understand what you are underneath the facade."

  "Oh, I don't know. He's seen me in the mornings with bad breath and bed head. I'd say he's gotten a pretty good look at the beast that lies within."

  She searched my eyes, and whatever she found there she didn't like. Growling, her talons wrapped around my throat, cutting off my airway. My hands reached out wildly, hitting and scratching whatever I could reach. She just watched me struggle, no pain registering on her face.

  With black edges starting to take over my vision, I realized she was really going to do it. Unlike Boone, she didn't care to play with me first; she was just going to wipe me out quickly, giving me no chance to escape. I didn't know which approach I preferred, but I knew that in a couple more seconds, it wasn't going to matter.

  A blur slammed into Felly, al
most ripping my throat out in the process. She released me, and I keeled over, my breathing coming out in short, ragged pants. Air had never tasted so good, and I savored it for a moment before turning to see my savior.

  Boone, big and fearsome, was facing off against Felly. Neither of them were moving, but their body language was anything but friendly. If I'd had to put a word on it, I would have called it prepared. They were both getting ready to take the other's head off.

  What I couldn't figure out was why.

  "This is not our way," Boone said, glancing at me with unconcealed rage and hunger. I did a little finger wave at him, and thought, since when?

  He clarified. "We can't kill so many in one town—and one's an FBI agent. It would out us to the humans." He said humans like someone else might say "rats" or "flesh eating virus."

  "If you stand in my way, I will kill you," Felly said. Her face was a mask, nothing human leaking through.

  "Think, Felly," Boone pleaded, sounding strangely gentle. "You can't do this."

  He lunged at her, but she was ready. With a blow to the head that sent her sprawling into the grass, the fight was on. They were evenly matched in speed and strength, dancing their way across the field in a deadly pattern that human eyes couldn't quite follow.

  Not able to discern who was winning, I crawled over to Biscuit’s cage, putting my hands on the humming bars. There was almost nothing left inside of me, so I had to go deeper than I'd ever gone before, shocking myself at the depths my magic reached. Instead of throwing it, I opened my eyes and truly saw the magic before me.

  And it was beautiful.

  The strings that held the cage together were iridescent like the moon sparkling behind my eyelids whenever I blinked. They weren't tangled, either, but all spun together with a breathless kind of complexity. Bobbing and weaving, the strings made intricate patterns, like a lace doily made solely from magic. It was breathtaking.

  And I had to destroy it.

  I started with the smallest strand, releasing it from the bigger picture. It fell away and disappeared on the grass, rejoining the earth it had been separated from. Even that small of a piece left me feeling more empty and tired. With a growing hopelessness, I looked at the myriad of string before me, calculating my odds of success.