The Girl With The Good Magic: The Shifter Wars Book One An Urban Fantasy Adventure

by MJ Caan

  The knock at the door distracted me from the espresso machine I was wiping down. “Sorry, we’re closed,” I said into the air.

  It was dark outside and I could only make out the form of the person standing on the other side of the locked door. Another knock, this time more determined. Hope was closer to the door, and she peered out the window.

  “It’s a cop,” she said. “He’s holding his badge up to the door.”

  “Geez. Aunt Viv has taken getting us a ride to the extreme.”

  Hope answered the door, and just as it cracked open it hit me: the smell of earth and rotted flesh, accompanied by a wave of dark magic that made my stomach reel.

  “Hope no!” I shouted, but it was already too late.

  Before she could react, the thing standing outside had burst in. The force of the door swinging open threw Hope across the room and over two of the tables. She crashed to the floor, unconscious. The sight of my best friend being hurt like that filled me with a white hot rage. I reached deep inside myself and grabbed that rage, calling it forward. It manifested itself in a ball of blue flame that I hurled at the creature as it charged at me.

  Even as the creature was struck in the chest by my power, my thoughts raced as I tried to identify just what was attacking us. It looked like a human, a large, solidly built male. But I knew that when it came to the supernatural, looks could be deceiving. Whatever it was, it was only wearing the skin of a man. Underneath, it reeked of death and darkness.

  I dove behind the counter, looking desperately for anything that I could use as a weapon. The fireball I threw probably surprised me more than it hurt my attacker. I’d never been able to manifest my magic like that before. I could levitate objects and charge other items with magic, but I’d never been able to create something like that out of thin air.

  I was too afraid to risk a peek over the counter to see where the creature was or what it might be doing. But then I remembered Hope lying out there, helpless.

  “Shit!” I hated feeling helpless as I sat there with my back against the counter, and I saw a silver cake knife lying on the floor. Knowing my aunts, it was probably real silver—a plus for what I was about to do. Silver has certain innate properties that make it both ideal for absorbing the right kinds of magic and for being anathema to supernatural constructs. I had no idea what that blue fireball I threw was, but other than the initial contact it didn’t seem to have done much to the creature.

  I crawled to the far end of the counter and chanced a quick peek. Whatever that thing was, it was lumbering to the opposite end of the counter, where the cash register sat. I winced as it grabbed one end of the counter and ripped up half the bar, throwing wood, glass, and granite counters toward the ceiling as it shuffled around, looking for me.

  “Okay, so you’re strong, but you don’t seem very smart.”

  I crouched, circling around the front side of the counter, trying to sneak up behind it, cake knife at the ready. How did this thing even get into the café? My aunts’ wards were top notch. For once I was happy with their constant over protectiveness. Anything giving off the kind of dark magic this bad boy was reeking of should have set them off, given me some kind of warning. That told me that maybe this thing wasn’t a supernatural creature, but something that probably had a contained burst of magic inside it as a power source. It smelled dead, so that meant someone probably animated a corpse and sent it after me. That’s big time mojo.

  But I couldn’t focus on that right now. That thing was definitely strong enough to kill me and Hope, and that wasn’t happening on my watch.

  I concentrated and focused my will on the knife I was carrying. As I approached the creature, the cake knife began to take on a blue tint, glowing with the magic I was forcing into it. Just as I reached the creature, I heard a small moan. Hope was starting to wake up and move around. The zombie, or whatever the hell it was, immediately spun in her direction and realized I was standing right in front of it. Faster than I would have expected a dead thing to move, it swept me up in its arms and immediately started to squeeze.

  I screamed in pain and raised the knife over my head. Had to do this before it crushed my spine, and judging from the pressure it was expending, that would happen in a matter of seconds.

  With a yell, I plunged the knife down and into the creature’s exposed neck. The silver, augmented by what little magic I have, was enough to pierce the flesh. But more importantly, it created an opening in the skin, a vent to release the magic that was powering this monster, just like cutting the gas line of a car.

  The zombie dropped me and staggered backward as black steam hissed from its torn flesh. The magic that animated it was evaporating, and with it, the monster’s corporeal form. It fell to its knees, then face-forward onto the ground. The scent of rotted flesh breaking down for a second time was beyond nauseating. I instinctively buried my face in my elbow to ward off the fetid stench, but still retched as the smell hit me.

  I could see Hope coming to, dragging herself up to a sitting position. In the distance I could hear the sound of sirens getting closer. As much as I hated to do it, I needed to get rid of the body. I stepped closer and could see that it wasn’t moving, the eyes hallow and face contorted. Whatever it was I needed to make certain it didn’t rise again.

  I looked at the decomposing mess before me and muttered a quick incendiary incantation that melted it down to a pile of bubbling sludge , and then caused even that molten goo to evaporate. By the time Hope was looking around and clearing her head, I had moved to her side to comfort her.

  “What the…?” she mumbled.

  “Hey, take it easy. Help’s on the way.”

  “What the hell was that?” she said, rubbing the back of her head.

  “Some coked-out druggie. Barged in, messed up the place, looking to take what little cash I had on hand, then ran back out. He’s gone now.” Not a lie. Not exactly, at least.

  “Jesus, Allie. Are you okay? Did he…?”

  “No, no. I’m fine. I think all my screaming scared him off.”

  I returned one of the knocked-over chairs to its upright position and slowly helped Hope onto it. A knock at the door got my attention, and I turned just in time to see a police officer stepping through the ruined opening.

  “Ma’am, we had a report of a disturbance here,” the officer said, looking around. I saw one hand hovering near his holster, which made me more nervous than being attacked by a zombie for some reason. Plus, his reliance on his gun told me he was not a supernatural. Still, I keyed up some magic and had it at the ready just in case.

  “It’s okay now. Some guy just burst in here, knocked all my shit over trying to break into the cash register, then ran back out,” I said, trying to diffuse the situation.

  The policeman turned his head to the side, and said something indecipherable into a communication piece attached to the shoulder strap of his bulletproof vest.

  He then stepped over to Hope and examined her head.

  “Don’t move, ma’am. An ambulance is on the way to take a look at you,” he said.

  “I don’t need that,” Hope replied. “It’s just a bump. I feel stupid just sitting here like this. But can you make sure my friend is okay?”

  I looked at the police officer and read his badge. Hunter.

  “I’m fine, Officer Hunter,” I said. “Thank you for getting here so quickly. I think it was the sound of your sirens approaching that scared him off.”

  “Did you get a good look at him?” Officer Hunter said.

  “No…it all happened so fast. He was big, dressed in some type of large jacket and a cap I think…” Careful here, I told myself. Don’t back yourself into a corner.

  “Oh my God!” said Hope. “I just remembered. He had a badge that he flashed at me when I looked out the door!”

  “What?” said Officer Hunter. “Are you sure?”

  “Well, it all happened so fast,” I interjected.

  “Yes, but that’s why I started to open the do
or to begin with,” said Hope. “Remember, we thought it was someone your aunt had sent to pick us up. I started to open the door…and then…then it gets fuzzy. But I know for a fact he had a badge.”

  Officer Hunter was busy scribbling in a pocket notebook he had pulled out of his vest.

  Before he could ask more questions, the ambulance pulled up to the street in front of the café.

  “Oh, good,” I said, looking at Hope. “You really should have them check you over, as hard as you hit your head.”

  “Yeah,” she replied, rubbing the back of her skull. “As long as they don’t try to cut my hair or anything. I’m not having my summer do messed with.”

  Officer Hunter smiled as the paramedics walked in with bags and stepped back to give them access to Hope. I watched as he strolled around the café, looking at things, examining the broken counter, and making more notes in his little book. Definitely not good.

  “We’re just going to take her in for a couple hours of observation,” said one of the paramedics to Officer Hunter. “She seems fine, but you never know.”

  The fact that this particular medic was about 6’2” and solid muscle was probably the reason that Hope wasn’t putting up a fight. In fact, she was gazing at the first responder dreamily and rubbing her head even more.

  For once, I was happy to see her man-lust rear its ugly head. Maybe it would keep her from focusing too much on the details of everything that had just happened.

  “I’ll call your parents,” I said. “I’ll have them meet you at the hospital.”

  The medics exited my busted-up coffee shop and loaded her into the back of the ambulance. I wanted to follow my friend and make sure she really was okay, but I had a more pressing conversation to have with my aunts.

  “So,” said the officer, “I think I have enough for now, but I may have some follow-up questions.”

  Of course you will, I thought.

  “And I really don’t think you should be walking home alone, if that was what you were planning,” he added.

  “How’d you know?”

  “Your friend said your aunt was sending someone to pick you up. No need. I’ll drop you off.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but the look he gave me silenced all objections.

  “Fine. Just let me lock up and grab my purse.” I was already dreading what I would tell my aunts. This was going to be a long night.

  4

  If there was one thing my aunts were known for, it was scaring the beejeezus out of the townsfolk—but that would only be if you asked the townsfolk. But if you asked anyone else, they’d tell you that they were known for their southern hospitality when it came to making strangers feel welcome in their home. Because strangers were the only ones who would come and sit in their home.

  The house was a sprawling custom-built contemporary in the style of the old Victorians that used to dot the landscapes of North Carolina before the age of the McMansion. It had two floors of gracious living, plus a full basement that ran the entire length of the home. The main floor and the basement opened onto sprawling decks that overlooked a picturesque backyard of mature trees and a babbling creek.

  The home was part of an enclave of houses along a winding series of roads at the top of a ridge. They were known as “back deck homes” because they all commanded such beautiful views of the woods, and neighbors would often converse with one another in the evenings while enjoying glasses of wine, waiting for the grills heat up.

  The fact that they enjoyed such peace and solitude while only a short forty-five-minute drive to a major city never ceased to amaze me. Trinity Cove itself was almost considered a suburb of the city was one of the perks that made living here tolerable. We were the only access point to Singing Falls and all the traffic flowed through us, but the ridge where my aunts and I lived ran above the roads leading to the falls; I usually could bypass the congestion in the main streets. Until I had to go in to work, that is.

  So having said all that, of course my aunts would invite Officer Hunter in for some tea, and they weren't about to take no for an answer.

  “Oh, I’m sure the officer has more…rounds to do or something,” I stated. I really didn’t want him hanging out with my aunts and possibly raising any mental alarms, or vice versa, about what happened.

  “Actually, I'm officially off the clock,” he replied. “But I don't want to be a bother this late at night.”

  “Nonsense,” replied Aunt Vivian. “I insist you come in for some tea. My sister just put on a fresh pot and it's the least we can do.”

  “Well…” He hesitated. “I have always wanted to see inside one of these houses.”

  “Well, that settles it then,” said Aunt Viv, ushering him inside the door. “Come on in and I'll show you around.”

  Like most officers, he wore one of those ridiculous broad-rimmed hats. I'd always wondered what the purpose of those was, other than to funnel rain into your car when they stopped you during a storm and leaned down to ask for your license and registration through your barely cracked window. Whatever its purpose, he was kind enough to remove it as he stepped through the entryway. His head immediately craned back as he took in the twenty-five-foot ceiling in the expansive great room. To his left, stairs ran up to the second floor, spilling into the exposed loft area. The great room opened directly into the massive kitchen, complete with sixteen feet of granite island in the middle. Beyond that was a set of French Doors that led out to the deck overlooking the woods.

  “Wow,” he said. “The inside is far more impressive than the outside would lead you to believe.”

  “Well, don’t just stand their gawking,” Aunt Vivian said. “Come on into the kitchen and get you a cup. It’s a beautiful night. We can drink it on the deck.”

  She gave me a look that said don’t even think about ditching, and smiled as we all walked into the kitchen where Aunt Lena was just removing a kettle from the large, six-burner gas stove. She had already lined up a selection of teas on the island.

  “Pick whichever you like, dear,” she said, waving a hand over the assortment. She had placed four cups on the island, as well as sugar, honey, and lemon.

  “Oh, I have no idea what’s good,” replied Officer Hunter. “Why don’t you surprise me?”

  Aunt Lena’s eye browns arched in surprise, and she couldn’t help but chuckle slightly to herself. “Oh, now that I can do.”

  My eyebrows knitted together as I looked at my aunt and moved to pick out some tea. Aunt Lena was the more somber of my two aunts. Her face was almost always contorted in a frown or some other mask of disapproval, yet here she was playing hostess to someone she had most likely never laid eyes on. I looked questioningly at Aunt Vivian and she just smiled at me, her gray eyes dancing in the soft overhead lighting.

  I shook my head and picked out some Earl Grey for myself. Whatever my aunts were up to, it was between them. But I hoped they realized that the more time they wasted with this guy meant the more time that was passing before I could tell them what happened at the coffee shop. Which meant any possibility of capturing the person responsible for the black magic that was capable of raising a dead man from his grave was slowly slipping away. Aunt Vivian took the officer by the arm and escorted him out onto the deck, remarking all the while how beautiful the night was.

  As soon as they were out of earshot, I whispered urgently to Aunt Lena.

  “Aunt Lena! I don’t know what is going on here, but I really, really need to talk to you and Aunt Vivian! Something really weird and scary just happened to me tonight!”

  “Shhh!” she practically hissed, her perma-scowl returning at once. “We can chat later! Right now, we have a guest to attend to.” She suddenly smiled mischievously. “A rather handsome guest, wouldn’t you say? Plus, I didn’t see a ring on his finger.”

  I actually felt myself blush at her comment. Dear Goddess, please tell me this isn’t why they are doing this? Are my two aunts actually trying to set me up with a town officer? All I wanted was to
set my cup back on the counter and bolt for the safety of my room. Aunt Lena must have sensed what I was thinking because she fixed me with a look that said, “I’ll turn you to stone if you take one step out of this kitchen.”

  I sighed. Fine. The sooner this charade was over, the faster I could get down to real business with my aunts. I turned on my heel, gave Aunt Lena one last look over my shoulder, then walked out to the deck.

  There was a large gas grill against the rails opposite the doors. Beside that, there was a large six-person dining table covered by an even larger umbrella, decorated with an array of hanging lights. Walking past that, I came to an intimate seating area bathed by warm, flickering outdoor candles. Aunt Vivian and Officer Hunter were sitting there, talking quietly.

  “So,” I heard Aunt Vivian say as I sat down in a chair opposite them, “you were just about to tell me your name. Unless you want us to remain so formal with you.”

  “Oh, no, ma’am,” he replied. “My name is Cody. Cody Hunter.”

  Of course it was. I’m thankful that the flickering light hid my eye roll.

  “Well what a beautiful name. So strong and manly,” my aunt added. “Don’t you think so, Allie?”

  Jesus.

  “I guess,” I replied. “If you’re a regular on a CW show.”

  I smirked, confident that my aunt wouldn’t catch the reference, but equally confident that Officer CW would. Before either of them could say anything, Aunt Lena came up beside us carrying a tray holding a few more mugs. She handed one to Aunt Vivian and another to Cody Hunter before settling down on a small loveseat next to us.

  “Lena,” said Aunt Vivian, “this polite young officer’s name is Cody. Cody Hunter.”

  “Really?” said Aunt Lena. “Are you related to the Hunters over on Simmons Lane, or the Hunters of Trinity Drive?”

  “Trinity Drive,” Officer Hunter replied. “My family has been in this area for several generations.”