Witch Hunt, A Paranormal/Urban Fantasy (The Maurin Kincaide Series)

Author:Rawlings, Rachel [Rawlings, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rachel Rawlings
Published: 2013-11-30T00:00:00+00:00

14

I sat handcuffed to a bench with a couple of women who had obviously been picked up for prostitution. It wasn’t their first time on this bench either, because instead of hanging their heads they winked and flirted with every officer that walked by. I, on the other hand, was mortified. How could I not be? I worked with most of these guys. Hell, I helped train the officer who cut the ziptie and handcuffed me to this damned wooden bench of shame.

Masarelli came to get me after an hour or so. My ass was so numb that I was actually relieved to see him. He unlocked the cuff that was around the arm of the bench and clicked it around my free wrist. With a jerk on the cuffs, he led me down a hallway, a flight of stairs and down another hallway that led to the holding cells. He opened the cell door.

“Make yourself at home, Kincaide. It’s where you belong after the stunt that you pulled tonight,” he said with satisfaction.

I wanted to tell him that he was an asshole and I let myself get caught, but I didn’t bother.

He shoved me inside and took the handcuffs off. He was about to slam the cell door closed when something caught his eye.

“Looks like they missed some of your valuables. Can’t let you have them in here,” he said, reaching for the silver chain around my neck.

Oh shit! He was going to take the amulet? I was barely keeping lachadiel out with the amulet on. If Masarelli took it now, then I wouldn’t be able to stop him from getting inside my head. I needed it.

I stepped back, but Masarelli was expecting that. His arm flew out and he grabbed hold of the chain. I grabbed the necklace and took another step backward, even though I knew that he wouldn’t let go. The chain gave in to our tug of war with a snap. We both held on.

“Masarelli, you don’t understand. Don’t take it. I need it,” I said, panicked.

“I don’t think that you’re in a position to tell me what to do, Maurin. Bet you thought I wouldn’t see your little charm. Well I did, so good luck getting out of here without it,” he said with a smile.

“It’s not what you think. It’s not to help me escape. I’d set the alarms off if I tried to use magic to break out of here. You know that.” I tried to reason with him.

I should have known better. He started to close the cell. My arm was now in a game of chicken with a heavy metal door. Neither of us flinched. The cell door slammed into my forearm. My fingers, no longer listening to my brain, released their grip on the chain. He put the amulet in his shirt pocket, giving it a little pat. He opened the door just enough for me to slide my arm out and then slammed it shut. I cradled my fractured arm to my chest while Masarelli walked away whistling some happy little tune.

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