Borrowed Magic: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Witch's Bite Series Book 1)

by Stephanie Foxe

I uncork it and pour a little out onto my tongue where he can see it. It’s cold at first, then warm. It slides down easy and even though I feel absolutely nothing I let my eyes slip shut and shiver.

  “Fuck, that’s good,” I whisper like I can’t help it. I open my eyes, wider than normal, and hold it out for him. My breaths are coming in faster just from the adrenaline, it makes it easy to act.

  He grabs it and tosses it back like it’s a shot. His eyes roll back in his head immediately and his knees buckle. I catch him awkwardly, he weighs almost twice as much as I do. It’s all I can do to tip him towards the trunk and roll his torso in.

  He’s lying face down with his legs hanging over the edge. I grab the right leg and pull, but his gut is hung up on the latch.

  “Should have gotten you to climb in the trunk before I knocked you out,” I mutter as I shove his other leg in. He rolls towards the back of the trunk. I hope he’ll be easier to get out. I’m ready to be done with this. My heart is racing as what I’m about to do hits me. I haven’t done this intentionally in a decade. Last time, just like every life-changing moment so far, it had made everything worse.

  I slam the lid of the trunk shut and hurry around to the driver’s side of the car. I’m not driving all the way back to my house. I have everything I need with me and I know just the place to do some risky magic.

  The drive back into town makes me feel like I’ve actually taken some drugs. My eyes flick between the road and the rearview mirror. Someone could have seen me in the parking lot. I could get pulled over, not that they’d have any reason to search the car, but I’m not sure I could play it cool.

  I tap my fingers against the steering wheel. Just a few more miles. I pass car after car and can hardly take a breath. The lights fade behind me and I finally turn down into a less busy area.

  The street in front of Gerard’s warehouse is deserted as usual. I park my car directly in front of the door and trot back to the trunk. Aaron is still out cold. I lean in and get a good grip under his shoulder, pulling him out with short tugs.

  His hair is sticking up my nose as I give one last yank and he comes completely out of the trunk, his legs hitting the ground with a thud. I barely stay standing as his weight threatens to pull me down. One careful backward step at a time, I drag him to the door.

  I fumble for the door handle with one hand and lose my grip on Aaron.

  “Dammit.”

  I drop him and get the door open, then grab his arms and drag him into the filth. I kick a few pallets out of the way, then lay him out in the cleared area. I grab the bag with ropes out of the trunk and tie him up as tight as I can. He won’t be going anywhere unless I cut the ropes off of him.

  I check my watch, it’ll be another few minutes before he starts to wake up, so I have time to kill. I check the warehouse again. Gerard is still gone, and other than the ever-present rats, we’re the only living beings in the place.

  Aaron’s leg twitches, his boots scuffing against the floor. I walk over and stand behind him. The first spasm shakes his body so hard his head bounces off the concrete, probably hard enough to leave a sore spot tomorrow. The second spasm is much lighter and his eyelids flick open. It takes another minute for awareness to filter in.

  He looks around with wide eyes, taking in the flashlight sitting on the stool and the surrounding darkness. His breath kicks up, and he struggles against the ropes binding him.

  “Where am I? Who’s there?” He shouts, his voice going high pitched at the end.

  I walk up behind him and he tries to shimmy over to his other side to face me, but he’s tied too tightly.

  “It doesn’t matter, you won’t remember any of this tomorrow.”

  He goes still. “Olivia?”

  I step around into the light and squat beside him.

  “What the fuck are you doing to me you weird bitch?” He screams at me, the veins in his forehead popping out.

  “You have something that I need. It’s just your bad luck that you happened to be born into the Hamilton family.”

  He bares his teeth at me like some kind of animal. “I’m not finding shit for you! You can’t make me!”

  “I know,” I say as I reach my hand out and press it against his bare arm.

  He flinches, expecting pain or something else I’m sure. When he doesn’t feel anything and I don’t make any other movements he stares at me, his eyes flicking between my face and my hand.

  “You’ll feel it soon. Let me know when it feels like you’re about to die.”

  He starts to struggle again, but all he can do is wiggle and curse. For a witch, he’s strangely vulnerable. I know what it’s like to live without offensive magic at my fingertips, but I make do with my brews. Aaron is too used to having a coven at his back, but the only protection they really offer is scaring your opponent. As soon as someone is willing to risk the consequences, you’re dead.

  “Stop it! What are you doing! Stop, stop, stop,” he pants. He’s starting to feel it for real then. My mother described it as being emptied and turned inside out all at the same time. The pain is secondary to the panicked knowledge that you’re losing something. She had thought I was somehow sucking out her soul.

  The power is running up my arm and pooling in my chest. It's like I’m slipping into a warm bath after being cold for a long time. A hunger stirs in me and I wonder why I don’t do this more often, but that’s an answer in and of itself. Addictions are tricky things.

  “Why are you taking it?” Aaron sobs. Big, wet tears are sliding down his cheeks and he is trembling from head to toe.

  “I need to find my friend,” I whisper. I don’t know why I have this urge to comfort him, especially since he won’t remember it, but I hate watching this. It makes me feel like a monster.

  “Don’t kill me,” he pleads. “I’ll find them. I’ll do it I swear.”

  “Shhh, I’m not going to kill you.”

  His face has gone pale, but the trembling is slowing. I’ll have to stop soon, but I want to take as much as I can. I need to be able to use the magic to its full potential, I can’t afford for it to be gimped like the healing magic.

  His mouth parts and he struggles for a breath, drool dripping out of his mouth and pooling on the concrete. I yank my hand away and fall back onto my butt. I know I haven’t taken too much, but I pushed it to the limit. He still isn’t moving and I’m afraid to touch him again too soon even though I know I can’t accidentally steal his magic.

  I leave him to recover, he’ll be like this for a while. The new magic is twitchy inside of me, trying to figure out how it fits in and testing its bounds. The healing magic was instinctual after I took it, so I flex my fingers and feel out what I need to do. Finding magic can’t be that much different.

  I grab the town map from my bag and lay it out on the floor in the light. My fingers trail over the worn paper. I let my eyes slip shut and let the magic take over. It knows who I’m looking for. Certainty rushes through me and out of my fingertips. It feels completely different from the healing magic, it’s so much brighter and hotter. I gasp as the knowledge of Patrick’s location hits me. The area my finger covers on the map is large, but I know exactly where he is.

  Rudie’s. He’s at the bar.

  It doesn’t make sense, but I know Patrick is there. My phone rings and I jump. I grab it out of my back pocket and Emilio’s number flashes on the screen.

  “Emilio, I found him,” I say in lieu of greeting.

  “Good, but we need you here now. Javier has been severely injured.”

  “What? How?” My heart drops into my stomach. I want to go find Patrick now, but if Javier dies, I don’t even want to think of what might happen to the clan. Or me.

  “He was attacked while out searching for Patrick, despite the fact that I told him not to leave. It was stupid. Rash. The mistake of a child, not a two-hundred-year-old clan leader.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can, but I have a mostly unconscious witch tied up at Gerard’s warehous
e. I need someone to remove all trace of me from him and dump him in the parking lot at the Full Moon.”

  “It will be taken care of, now come.”

  He hangs up and I shove my phone in my pocket and scramble for the memory erasing brew. I lift Aaron’s head off the floor and tip the potion into his mouth, holding his nose shut so he has to swallow. He goes completely limp and I shove him off my lap and grab my things, throwing them roughly into the bag before running back out to my car.

  My hands are shaking as I shove the keys into the ignition and screech down the street. I hope I have enough power to heal Javier. I’ve never had to heal a vampire before, they heal on their own. Whoever hurt him had to know what they were doing, and it must be bad. I’m not even sure if the healing magic will work if the wound was caused by holy water.

  I also need backup if I’m going to go get Patrick. Whoever took him overpowered a vampire, and possibly Javier too.

  I drive past Maybelle’s, and a siren turns on behind me, the lights flashing in my rearview mirror. I’m the only other car on the road.

  “Fuck.”

  I pull out my license and insurance card, texting Emilio as quickly as I can. Every other word is misspelled, but I don’t care. I don’t like the timing on this.

  The officer shines his flashlight into my car, his hand is already on his gun.

  “Olivia Carter?”

  “Yes.” He hasn’t even taken my license, how does he already know my name?

  “Ma’am, I need you to step out of the car.”

  I open the car door slowly, my heart pounding. I wasn’t speeding, I hadn’t done anything worth getting pulled over for. I step out and he grabs my arm and shoves me around and into the passenger door of the car, slapping the cuffs onto my wrists. I force myself to stay limp and move with him, not fighting a single movement he takes. My driver’s license and insurance have fluttered to the ground.

  “Olivia Carter, you’re under arrest for the murders of Britney Davidson and Jessica Johnson as well as the abduction of Laurel Ramirez.”

  What the fuck happened while I was sleeping.

  6

  The interrogation room is cold, but they, of course, took my jacket. I better get it back, it’s growing on me.

  I’m still handcuffed, and my legs are chained to the floor as well. I don’t know what they think I can do exactly, but they’re not taking any chances. Or maybe they’re trying to intimidate me. The chains just make them look stupid though.

  I’ve been staring at the mirror-that-isn’t-really-a-mirror across from me for about ten minutes. Hopefully, I can catch someone’s eye and freak them out, but I’m sure I just look angry. The adrenaline of the arrest wore off and frustration is taking over. I don’t have time for this.

  Martinez walks in. His suit is wrinkled and he has dark circles under his eyes. He tosses a file folder onto the table in front of me and then sits down, taking a sip of coffee from his little styrofoam cup.

  “How have you been, Carter? It’s been a couple of days since I’ve seen you.”

  “I’ve had better weeks Martinez, but thanks for asking.”

  “We found some interesting things in your car. Novak isn’t sure what most of the brews are. Are you inventing new drugs again?” Martinez's hand tightens around his cup for a moment and the look he’s giving me feels personal. Maybe he feels bad for thinking I’m hot since I’m also a terrible criminal.

  “Drugs are so 2013 detective. I brew all sorts of things lately, but they’re all legal.” Mostly legal. Memory potions are a serious gray area, but there is none of that particular brew left, and what they don’t know won’t hurt anyone.

  “Where have you been since I saw you at the diner?”

  “Hmm,” I say tilting my head and pursing my lips. “Sleeping with Javier mostly.”

  His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. So he is jealous, interesting.

  “For almost twenty-four hours? I guess what they say about vampire stamina is true.” His tone is sharp and accusatory. He didn’t call me a slut, but it feels like he did.

  “I suppose, but when I say sleeping I mean actually sleeping. I crashed pretty hard that evening and didn’t wake up until just after sunset tonight. Javier, the gentleman that he is, made sure I was taken care of.”

  “So that’s what you’re going with? Sleeping for twenty-four hours and the only people that can corroborate your alibi are vampires?”

  “That’s what happened, Martinez. You seem to be under the impression that I’m constantly lying to you when I’m not.”

  He flips open the folder between us. A picture of Jessica’s body sprawled out on the ground is on top. Her face is so, so pale and the vicious bite marks on her neck and thighs are circled in red pen as if I could miss them. He slides that picture to the left revealing a similar picture of Britney, except Britney has started decomposing. It’s not a great look for her.

  “You’ve already told me they’re dead,” I say looking up from the pictures. “Are these pictures just supposed to shock me?”

  “Did you know the vampires were going to kill them when you took the girls to them?”

  I laugh once, I can’t help it. “This is ridiculous.”

  “Laurel Ramirez, the mayor’s daughter, went missing just before sunset today. These girls are already dead, but it’s not too late to save Laurel. Where is she? Are the vampires already feeding on her?”

  I lean forward, getting as close as the chains will allow. “Martinez, get your head out of your ass and think about who could be doing this. It’s not me, and it’s not the vampires. And as much as I’d like to pin this on the coven, it’s not them either.”

  “What do you know?”

  The door to the interrogation rooms slams open and a woman with steel gray hair pulled back into a neat bun glides in. She’s almost six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a square face. Everything about her says she means business.

  “You’re done questioning my client,” she says to Martinez. “Get her out of those cuffs, she’s coming with me.”

  I have no idea who she is, but I lean back and shake my hands at Martinez who is glaring at the woman with a look of open hatred.

  The police chief steps in behind the woman, his face red and his jaw tight. “Do as she says Martinez.”

  Martinez pulls the key out of his pocket and unlocks my hands first. I let the handcuffs fall to the table and resist the urge to rub my wrists even though they ache. He kneels in order to reach the leg cuffs. I lean back and let my eyes trail over him, he looks good down there.

  “You won’t get away with this,” he says as he stands back up, our eyes meeting for a moment.

  I follow the woman that is apparently my lawyer out of the police station, relishing in the frustrated eyes that follow me. Novak is standing by the door almost shaking in anger. I flip him the finger as we walk out.

  “Please tell me Javier sent you,” I say as I jog to catch up with her. She has a long stride.

  “Emilio technically, but I do work for Javier,” she says as she opens the door to a sleek black car. “Get in, I’ll answer questions on the way.”

  I hurry to comply and slide in on the passenger side. She guns it out of the parking lot.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Lydia Holland. I’ve been Javier’s lawyer almost since I graduated from law school.”

  “Is Javier still alive?” I have to know.

  “Yes, for now. I’m not sure how though.” Lydia’s voice goes low on the last part and her hands tighten on the steering wheel.

  “So, what are you? A human?” I ask, the question is a little rude, but I don’t care right now.

  “Yes, Javier has found that useful over the years.”

  The drive drags, she’s driving exactly the speed limit, but it feels so much slower. I tap my fingers against my thigh and try not to sigh out loud. Now is not the time for Lydia to speed despite my impatience.

  I throw off my seatbelt as soon as w
e pull into the driveway and have the door open before the car comes to a stop. The front door swings open as I run up the steps and Emilio leads me through the front of the house to one of the sitting rooms.

  Javier is laid out on the rug in the center of the room like a sacrifice. I want to throw up looking at him. There is a stake sticking out of his chest and he has gaping slices all over his arms interspersed with burns.

  “Holy fuck,” I whisper.

  “Language,” Emilio hisses with a glare.

  I kneel down beside Javier and put my hands on his face, the only uninjured part of him. He’s staring at me silently and I have to shut my eyes. I can’t do this with him watching me like I’m his only hope.

  “Patrick is at Rudie’s. I don’t know why or how or exactly where, but he’s there,” I say before beginning the healing.

  Emilio immediately pulls out his phone and dials someone. I tune out what he’s saying and focus on pulling out every bit of healing magic I have. With the new magic swirling around inside of me I feel stronger than normal. I hope it helps.

  Javier feels different from a human. The magic burns through him faster and stronger. It’s almost like he’s flammable and the magic is a spark. I can feel the worst of the wounds slowly closing from the inside out and his skin warming under my hands.

  My healing magic is already waning though. I won’t be able to heal him completely, not even close. I cling to him, pushing through the fatigue that normally has me stopping. Just a little more. Just a little—

  He grabs my arms and shoves me away. I slump back onto the floor, panting. I had pushed a tiny bit farther than I intended. He grabs the stake still buried in his chest, rips it out with a grunt and tosses it across the room. The hole in his chest begins closing slowly.

  Another of his vampires, someone I don’t recognize, comes into the room with a curvy brunette following closely behind him. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s trembling with excitement. She hurries over to Javier’s side and kneels, bending her head to the side to give him easy access to her neck.

  Javier sinks his teeth into her neck and the girl moans. I try to look anywhere but at the feeding, however, my eyes keep getting drawn back. Javier is staring at me over her shoulder with a predatory look in his eyes.