Precise oaths, p.20
Precise Oaths, page 20
“She is! She’s with a client, but she’ll be available in fifteen minutes if you don’t mind waiting,” she said, seeming delighted with this idea.
Humans.
Still, this one was harmless. He engaged in some mild flirting with the clerk, whose name was Sonja. Before the fifteen minutes were up, she had invited him out for a drink.
“I’d love to,” he said, making sure his voice expressed the right level of disappointment, “but I’m only here for a few hours to visit friends. I heard some great things about your tarot reader and figured I’d stop in before leaving town.”
Before Sonja could answer, a middle-aged blonde human came out from a back room, sniffling and dabbing her eyes with a tissue. She turned around to hug a petite woman with short, black hair in a pixie-style haircut, and every one of his senses zeroed in.
This was her. She’d changed, yes. A little. The hair was shorter and no longer the blood-red color from her pictures. Her face had more lines, but it was prettier in person, arresting in a way that wouldn’t make her stand out in a crowd unless you gave her a closer look. She wore jeans, black Chuck Taylors, and a T-shirt with a grinning cartoon witch giving a thumbs-up.
He tamped down the urge to laugh. She might be the least witchiest witch he’d ever seen, but she was the one he was sent to find.
She smelled like warm lavender and sympathy.
He inhaled her scent as deeply as he could without drawing attention to himself, then cleared his throat on a soft sound that only his team, listening from outside as they covered the building, would recognize. Eyes on the prize.
Booker watched as Josephine Murphy patted the blonde woman on the back and gave her a gentle smile. “Don’t worry—everything will work out,” she said, her voice a soothing contralto. He was discovering all kinds of things about his quarry in these endless moments, and both he and his wolf were growing impatient to engage. “I promise.”
The blonde nodded, still sniffling, and shuffled past him on her way out of the store. When the door closed behind the blonde woman, Josephine Murphy looked up at him for the first time. Her clear blue eyes held a look of friendly curiosity that darkened within the second. He had to hand it to her—she didn’t let it show on her face, but it was the smell, every time. Her sympathy, her focus on helping her client, had turned to fear.
She knew what he was.
So, his quarry was as smart as she was pretty. Booker didn’t linger over those thoughts too much, or worry too much over her fear of him. It didn’t matter. The exits were covered, and the Council had given them each a small red-flannel mojo bag that was supposed to prevent anyone in a certain radius from transporting themselves. Some of the supernatural creatures he had dealt with could blip away on a mere thought, so there was every chance that a witch could do the same. It made them a bitch to catch, unless you were prepared.
His team was prepared. She wasn’t going anywhere.
Josephine Murphy smiled at the clerk but stayed rooted to her spot on the floor. Booker kept his eyes on her.
“Sonja, do I have another client?”
Sonja nodded, turning to him. “This is Jo. She’ll be reading for you in the back room.”
Jo. He liked that. It suited her. She smiled at Sonja. “Sweetie, why don’t you go on home? I’ll lock up after we’re done here.”
The witch wanted to get her coworker out of the shop, away from him. He could respect that, but he wasn’t here for the clerk.
Sonja lit up with surprised pleasure. “Thanks, Jo!” She gathered up her purse and sent him a regretful wave. “Nice to meet you. If you’re in town again, come back and see us.”
He gave her a brief, tight-lipped smile and a nod, unable to spare her much attention. Not when his quarry was finally right before him.
Once Sonja walked out of the store, Jo Murphy turned back to him with an expression of weary resignation that she tried to mask with a forced smile. Her fear-smell grew with every second, spoiling the scent of lavender, and her heart had begun to race in her chest—he could almost feel it beating. She gave no outward sign of the inner turmoil. She simply said, “Follow me,” and went into the back room.
The store wasn’t a large one, so in three strides, he reached the door to the reading room. The small, incense-flavored room held a card table covered with a cheerful blue cloth, two chairs, a large floor-length mirror, and nothing else.
She was gone. He couldn’t even smell her anymore.
He muttered a filthy curse and clicked a button on his radio, asking if Nick or Max had eyes on the witch.
They didn’t.
Okay, so maybe this was why the Council had taken so long to find her. He gritted his teeth, casting one last searing gaze around the reading room.
It seemed that Jo Murphy was trickier than they’d thought.
* * *
Don’t stop now. Keep reading with your copy of MIRROR WITCH
Don’t miss the next book in the Liliana and the Fae of Fayetteville series coming soon, and find more from Paige E. Ewing at www.paigeewing.com
Until then, discover MIRROR WITCH, by City Owl Author, Phoebe Walker!
After being kidnapped and tortured by a brutal werewolf pack, ordinary New Age witch Jo Murphy hasn’t known a day of peace. With the help of the goddess Hecate, she escapes—or so she thinks. Nightmares haunt her as paranoia remains her constant companion. And now, she’s developed a new power she doesn’t understand. With the pack gone, apparently by her hand, Jo should be safe, but she’s not taking any chances.
When Ezekiel Booker answers the Council’s call to hunt down Josephine Murphy, he thought it would be his last job before becoming the alpha of the St. Louis pack. However, Booker didn’t account for the effect she’d have on him—or how easily she’d escape him. As he tracks her once more, he discovers she’s created a magical sanctuary and occult shop out of an old building in his territory. And it’s entirely warded against werewolves.
Will Booker be able to earn her trust and uncover the mystery of her powers—and their connection? Or will Jo face the new threat of a necromancer alone?
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Acknowledgments
This book took a lot of years, a lot of rewrites, and a lot of feedback to come to fruition. I’ve had so much support and help all along, starting with LittleBounce and D Squirrel way back in the day, that I can’t possibly name everyone.
Thanks to my crit groups from Slug Tribe to Shlomi, Jim, Mike, Tom, Victor, Iolo, Gryphon, and Sheri of White Gold Wielders (WGW). I’m a far better writer for having let you all tear apart my words and point at the flaws.
And thanks to nanowrimo in general, and the Texas Elsewhere nano group in particular for keeping me always drafting new things.
Alden, Tex, Jen, Nomolosk, and Robo are the best for poking me to do some twenty minute writing sprints every evening, so I never feel like I’m writing alone. Positive peer pressure for the win.
Thanks to my agent, Michelle Hauck for believing in me and my work, and my City Owl editor Lisa Green for challenging me to take it to another level.
And thanks most of all to my long suffering husband Joe, who put up with me ignoring him for many, many hours while I typed away on a keyboard.
About the Author
PAIGE E. EWING writes about superheroes and sentient cities, were-spiders and gun-loving fairies, werewolves and fighter pilots. For her day job, she gives speeches and writes about big data analysis and data architectures, a subject which also doubles as a sleep aid for many.
For fun, she shoots arrows, and throws axes. She lives in the middle of nowhere, Texas, and will show you far too many pictures of her garden if you let her. She once invented a way to grow food on Mars that NASA liked, and has a cute trophy to show for it. Her dogs and horses are unimpressed.
www.paigeewing.com
About the Publisher
City Owl Press is a cutting edge indie publishing company, bringing the world of romance and speculative fiction to discerning readers.
Escape Your World. Get Lost in Ours!
www.cityowlpress.com
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Paige E. Ewing, Precise Oaths
