Small Town Witch: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Red Witch Chronicles 5) by Sami Valentine

Author:Sami Valentine [Valentine, Sami]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocketmaus Publishing
Published: 2020-12-14T22:00:00+00:00

13

Driving up to the vine-covered cottage half shrouded in fog, Red rehearsed what she was going to say to Kristoff to keep it concise and businesslike. Then his garage opened. Fumbling her mental notes, she parked and got out of the borrowed car.

He left his Lamborghini and sauntered to her. A crimson shirt peeked from under the well-tailored dark blazer on his broad shoulders. Her traitorous mind didn’t need to conjure the memory of him shirtless, flat stomach and strong tattooed arms, to remind her. He looked a little too good like always. There was something ruthless about his handsomeness, from the dimpled left cheek to the smooth brow as if designed by Lucifer to tempt.

“You look exquisite tonight.” He cocked his head, admiring the view with a devilish smile. “What is the occasion for this little black dress?”

She shrugged away the pleasure at his compliment. “Party. Monsters landed on my dance card instead.”

“Not the right one.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the smirking cockiness. He wasn’t wrong. “Are you busy, or do you have time to tell me about Alaric’s apocalypse?”

“It was more like an uprising—Alaric’s last-ditch effort for relevancy. Now that’s a yarn that requires time which I don’t have. I’m off to collect tithes.”

“Tithes. Sounds more pious than a vampire tax should be.” Red wasn’t surprised that the cliché about death and taxes held beyond the grave.

“You’d be surprised how many former bishops are in the Blood Alliance. Traditional trappings on an organization barely older than my shoes.” He gestured to her outfit, appreciation in his stare. “You’re dressed for a night out in a far better town, but the Charm country club will have to do.”

“I never said I’d go.”

“I thought we were past old dance of ‘will she-won’t she’ when it came to working together.” Eyes twinkling, he brushed a wild lock of hair off her shoulder. “You know you want to come, see what the fuss is about. Every vampire in town will be there. You can sense if any are dabbling in blood magic.”

The rehearsed conversation escalated out of her control. Stace wouldn’t want her to go, but his logic was sound. A vampire using dark magic would have been marked by the ritual as much a human mage would. Vic would tell her to get the job done without letting her feelings get in the way. She’d told Stace she merely had a professional working relationship with Kristoff. If that were the full truth, she’d have already invited herself along.

She set her head on straight—this was just a job, not a date, even if she was dressed for it. “I want more than a look. I need fingerprints. One was found at the first ritual murder, and it doesn’t match any in police records. The last human suspects were a bust.”

“Our mole in the police can send a copy of the print to the DVA to run on our end. If an Alaric loyalist is alive and causing trouble, I need to know before I can leave Charm.

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