Spells & Death by Rachel Medhurst

Author:Rachel Medhurst
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal romance, witches, warlocks, thriller, investigative fantasy, fantasy thriller, young adult urban fantasy series, Urban Fantasy, agent, Paranormal
Publisher: Rachel Medhurst
Published: 2019-04-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Grabbing Dave’s hand before he could walk through the pub door behind the others, I tried to stand tall enough to hiss in his ear. It didn’t work.

“What is it?” he asked, his gaze watching the wooden door swing shut.

“What did it say under the blood?” My words were hushed as I checked that no one watched us.

Several people were marching on the pavement, on their way home from their nine to five employment. Some were humans, some paranormals, but every one of them looked like they were going through the motions of living, rather than really feeling alive.

Taking out his phone, Dave quickly found the picture and showed me. My breath hitched as I read what had been hidden under the blood. When death comes knocking, there’s only so long you can avoid it.

“The serial killer has to be the man that was at the book festival. He’s the only one who knows about my death.”

Rubbing his jaw, Dave glanced up to the bright blue sky. “If that’s the case, the PFF might be innocent.”

Gritting my teeth, I slowly nodded my head. As much as I hated to admit it, there was no evidence linking the PFF to the threats. They might hate the Essex witches as much as the serial killer, but he was gunning for me, and me alone. Which meant it was far more personal.

“I don’t understand why someone would hate you enough to want to scare you like this, and how does he know you’re dead?”

A loud whistle drew our attention as Brianna swayed towards us. My Spanish vampire friend eyed up Dave as a grin came to his face.

“Hello, Bri,” I said as she threw her arms around me.

As her eyelashes fluttered up at Dave, I instantly regretted inviting my only friend. While they greeted each other, I indicated that we should go into the pub and join the others.

Once inside, my regret increased tenfold. Introducing Brianna to the team might have been a mistake. The pub was noisy because some football game was being shown on the television. Trust me to pick a night where the pubs were crammed with people watching the England match. My best friend was currently telling the others that I’d had a life-size cardboard cut-out of the Backstreet Boys when I was a teen. I was half tempted to cast a zip spell over her mouth to get her to shut up.

“Don’t dis The Backstreet Boys, they were heroes of our time.” Sipping on my pint of cider, I shook my head when Jake scoffed.

Waving his hand in front of him, he took his phone out of his pocket. “No, lady...” he said, holding up his free hand in defence when I leant forward, resting on the wooden table surface, and fingered the handle of my gun. No one called me lady. Ever.

“This is real music.” His phone burst into an old school rock song, the rifts loud and the melody perfect.

Closing my eyes, I nodded along, singing the first line as it started.

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