All characters in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A Lying Witch
Book Two
Copyright © 2016 Odette C Bell
Cover art stock photos licensed from Depositphotos.
www.odettecbell.com
A Lying Witch
Book Two
It’s time for hearts to bleed. And the first heart on the butcher’s block? Chi’s.
You’d think she’d have time to rest after her last break-neck adventure. Wrong. Chi is dragged into the case of Fagen. Fagen is collecting hearts - and no, not the romantic kind.
When a string of grisly crimes spreads through the city, Chi is pulled in to help. But she’s the one who’ll need help when she becomes number one on Fagen’s wish list. He doesn’t send her flowers to win her heart. Nope, he sends a hit team.
Running for her life, she’s thrust further into Max’s accommodating embrace. But there’s a problem there, too. Max has a secret - one that spans centuries, and one he’ll do anything to hide.
Chapter 1
You’d think I’d have some time to relax after almost dying at the hands of the terrifying Farley.
You’d be wrong. Oh so wrong.
Max would not let me rest.
Okay, so he didn’t drag me down to the police station to solve any more murders, but he was pushing me to develop my abilities as a seer.
Me? I was pushing to find out exactly what I was.
It had been several weeks, and you could say I was adjusting, but I was still drowning in a river of questions.
I was walking from one side of my room to the other, a pen in my hand as I tapped it rhythmically against my lips.
There was one good thing about being a fake fortune teller – one ability I’d been able to transfer over to my new terrifying life as a real clairvoyant – my ability to research.
Which I’d been doing non-stop. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find anything on Max. Honestly, all I had was a name and a magical subspecies.
My curiosity had been piqued ever since that scribbled half-sentence I’d found in one of grandma’s journals.
Watch out for Max, he isn’t what….
Though my grandmother had books on magic, there was so much to learn. Oh so freaking much to learn.
I was swamped. And it wasn’t exactly as if Max was helping. Okay, he was downstairs cooking breakfast, but pancakes aside, I needed a way out.
Because, oh yes, I was still trying to escape. Just not in the same way. As soon as Max turned his back, I didn’t take the opportunity to leg it out the front door. Nope. I wasn’t trying to escape Max; there was no point. He could keep me safe. No, what I was trying to escape was the curse.
According to everything my grandmother had written, there was no way to break the curse. It would continue to exist as long as the female line of the McLanes existed.
Well, I wasn’t satisfied with that conclusion. The tiger in me wouldn’t let it stand. There was a way to break every rule out there, and this so-called permanent curse would be just the same.
I continued to pace the room, thinking of new ways to investigate Max and the curse.
I didn’t get the opportunity to continue. Max’s pleasant, resonant brogue rumbled up from the first floor. “Breakfast is ready.”
I grinned to myself. Hey, maybe Max had a secret, but he was also a hell of a cook. And he was a pretty good magical bodyguard, too.
“Coming,” I called out. I abandoned the pen on my bed, sprinted over to the door, thrust it open, and climbed down the stairs.
Max, unfortunately, was not wearing an apron. But, fortunately, he’d arrayed a fantastic looking breakfast out on the rustic-style table that sat in front of the patio doors.
The paper was folded up neatly in the middle of the table, an equally neat folded up napkin sitting on top of it.
I discarded the napkin to the side, grabbed up the paper, and started to read as I shoveled pancakes into my mouth.
Max snorted. It was that particular derisive move he was so damn fond of. A second later, he’d be crossing his arms. I looked up from the paper out of the corner of my eye, waiting. You bet you – a second later, he crossed his arms.
“The napkin is there to wipe your mouth.”
“I know what a napkin is. I’m also coordinated enough not to put the food on my mouth, but in it.”
“Coordinated, ha?” He snorted.
I just poked my tongue out, kept it out, delivered a payload of pancakes onto it, then chewed loudly.
This only elicited another snort.
Stretching, I got back to the paper. It was the local rag, and Max kept on insisting I learn more about this city considering I was meant to protect it with my magical clairvoyant powers.
Rather than actually read the news, I turned to the cartoon section. I quickly began laughing – I was easily amused.
“Really?” Max said as he sat down, somehow keeping his arms crossed as he did, almost as if they were strapped to his chest like a strait jacket. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d find that funny.”
I looked up. “What? You don’t like cartoons? I’ll admit, these aren’t the best, but they’ll do.”
He looked at me. In fact, he did that thing – that thing where his eyes looked like they were trying to bore through my skull.
Reluctantly, I put my fork down. “Okay, what?”
“Turn to the front page.”
“Do I have to?”
He shot me the kind of judgmental look a reality TV host would be proud of. “Aye, you do.”
I groaned but complied. I closed the paper and turned it over.
Then I
