Wolf Witch (Victoria Brigham Book 1) Read online

  Wolf Witch (Victoria Brigham #1)

  D.N. Hoxa

  Contents

  Sign Up to D.N. HOXA’s mailing list!

  Also by D.N. Hoxa

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Also by D.N. Hoxa

  Copyright © 2018 by D.N. Hoxa

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of

  America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or

  artwork herein is prohibited. This is a work of fiction. Names,

  characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s

  imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons,

  living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely

  coincidental.

  Sign Up to D.N. HOXA’s mailing list!

  You will receive new release emails and giveaway alerts. No spamming ever, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

  ▶︎ SIGN UP HERE ◀︎

  Also by D.N. Hoxa

  SCARLET JONES SERIES (COMPLETED)

  Storm Witch

  Storm Power

  Storm Legacy

  Storm Secrets

  Storm Vengeance

  Storm Dragon

  WINTER WAYNE SERIES (COMPLETED)

  Bone Witch

  Bone Coven

  Bone Magic

  Bone Spell

  Bone Prison

  Bone Fairy

  STARLIGHT SERIES (COMPLETED)

  Assassin

  Villain

  Sinner

  Savior

  MORTA FOX SERIES (COMPLETED)

  Heartbeat

  Reclaimed

  Unchanged

  1

  My car groaned as I turned the ignition on, and if I could translate car noises, I’d probably determine that this one meant, I seriously hope never to be turned on again. I’d have to take it to the car doctor. Again. That kind of car depression wasn’t good for anyone. Aaand there went my next paycheck.

  The house I’d parked in front of was similar to all the houses I’d probably never own, and that was okay. It was three stories high with a nice peach-colored exterior that looked freshly painted and lots of tulips gracing the sides of the polished porch. The front yard alone was bigger than my entire apartment, and the white front door would make mine explode with envy.

  Clearing my throat, I turned to the passenger seat. “All right, young lady. You and I are going to have a little talk.” Rubbing my hands together, I took in a deep breath. “This is the third time you’ve run off. Third time. Don’t you think that’s pushing your luck, Luna? I mean, the city’s very dangerous. You’ve seen it for yourself.” A soft meow made me sigh. “This was the last time, do you understand me? No more running away from home. Not ever. You may wander around, but not too far, and only as long as you find your way back home by nightfall.”

  The cat’s yellow eyes shone as she looked at me. She was sitting comfortably in the passenger’s seat, swishing her tail slowly, possibly thinking that I’d lost my shit. It was crazy, right? You couldn’t expect a cat to listen to a word you said.

  Unless you were me, of course.

  “I mean it, Luna,” I warned her again. “No more running away.”

  She gave me one more meow to confirm that she understood.

  I smiled. “Good girl.”

  With her in my arm, I made my way out of the car. Her fur was so soft, I could sleep on her every night. She was a Ragdoll, mostly white, with some brown around her eyes, her butt, and her tail. I’d never been hired to find one like Luna before, but I did find and bring home plenty of other kinds of cats. And dogs. Even foxes.

  Even before I made it to the porch, Ms. Polimore, Luna’s owner, came out with tears in her eyes, a smile on her face, and her arms outstretched. She grabbed the cat from me furiously, as if she was a mother protecting her cub. She knew her cat, and not only because of the red collar with the silver engraved tag with Luna’s name on it. I stepped back and lowered my head. Ms. Polimore might have been a little on the coo-coo side when it came to her cats—she had nine—but she loved them dearly. I could tell by her voice when she first called me.

  “Thank you so, so much, Gia! I don’t know what we would have done!” she said as she kissed Luna, who continued to meow, the spoiled little brat. She loved her home, too, but she liked to cause panic ever so often. I think it’s because she wanted more attention than her siblings every now and then.

  “It’s my pleasure, Ms. Polimore. I’m just glad that she’s okay,” I said. And it was the truth. It wasn’t uncommon for me to find dead animals. It had happened before—three times.

  “Here you go, Gia. Again, thank you so much,” she said, and she pulled a piece of paper from her jeans pocket. It was my check. I smiled brightly. It’s why I’d called her on the way here. I didn’t like to have to wait for her to go inside and write the check when I could just have her prepare it for me beforehand.

  “Thank you, Ms. Polimore. Bye, Luna,” I said with a wave, and I turned around to leave.

  “I hope you won’t run away again, little girl. Mommy was so worried,” she was saying.

  “Oh, don’t worry. She’ll never leave this neighborhood again,” I said, completely satisfied with myself, when…

  “How do you mean?”

  I stopped in my tracks and slowly turned around. Ms. Polimore was still in front of the door with Luna in her arms, a frozen smile on her face. Shit.

  I wasn’t usually like this. I was much more careful with my tongue, but occasionally I slipped, too. Nobody’s perfect.

  I laughed a laugh so fake it hurt my own ears. “What I mean is, Ms. Polimore, that when I found her, she was very scared, and she eagerly came to me when I called her name.” I even offered her a bright smile at the end.

  Rolling her eyes, Ms. Polimore sighed. “Of course!” she said. “Of course she was afraid. My poor baby!”

  Phew. That was close.

  “Take care of yourself, Ms. Polimore.” I turned around to leave, and this time, I didn’t intend to say another word.

  The door to the house closed just as I stepped onto the street, feeling mighty good about myself. I was richer than I had been just a few minutes ago, night was already falling, and it was the perfect time for a drink.

  But before I’d gotten into the car, something stopped me.

  “What the actual fuck?”

  The voice came from across the street, but I heard it perfectly. When I turned, I saw a man standing atop the stairs of his considerably smaller porch with a glass of water in his hands. He was looking right at me, eyes wide and mouth open, shocked out of any more words. I sniffed the air deeply to determine his nature and had to wait a few seconds for his scent to reach me.

  I opened my mouth to say something but then decided against it. There was no way I could explain this, so why bother? Ms. Polimore was human, and this man was a werewolf. According to him, I was a werewolf, too.

  With a wave of my hand, I put my sunglasses on, though the sun was already gone, and got into my car.

  I didn’t take his shock personally—not at all. After all, I shouldn’t have been able to talk to humans. Or better yet, humans shouldn’t have been able to talk to me. We shared the same w
orld, yes, but we were also separated. Werewolves, vampires, witches, even fairies, lived together with humans, but only mingled in situations that didn’t require face-to-face contact. See, the way we were taught is that the human brain is wired differently from ours. They can’t figure us out, in a way, and don’t know what to make of us when put in contact. They’re stuck with their tongues tied and with no idea how to behave around us. Something in our nature messed them up good. Even if they did manage to make contact with us, they’d forget all about us in a matter of minutes. It’s just the way the world works, and I think it’s for the better. The human world was just fine without knowing about the things that go bump in the night.

  I say we because I consider myself a paranormal, too. To others, I’m a werewolf. I was raised by a werewolf family, and I smell like one, too. No reason to doubt, unless you’ve seen me shift, which nobody ever had. And nobody ever would if I had my way.

  I’d delivered Luna to a quiet neighborhood in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Lucky it wasn’t a long drive to the Big Bad Wolf, a tavern mostly frequented by werewolves. Because I smelled like one, everybody left me alone there. And the bartender was a friend. Sort of.

  I parked my car two streets down and made my way to it on foot, happy to spend my remaining cash on a few glasses of whiskey before heading home for the night. It had been a good day. I’d found Luna in record time, hiding in Harlem. In case you haven’t guessed by now, I find missing animals. Mostly pets, but I found a zebra for a zoo once, too. My name is Gia Hall and…

  No, wait. That’s not right.

  My name is Victoria Brigham. Even that’s not my real last name, but I changed it from my father’s to my mother’s maiden name when I ran away from home. Not the best idea, but what other choice did I have? I didn’t want a completely new name to identify me. My alias is Gia Hall, and I’m a pet private investigator for hire. I love my job and I am good at it. Very good at it because of my nose. Which was why, when I entered the Big Bad Wolf, I had to focus half my mind to breathe only through my mouth. My sense of smell was incredibly strong. I could tell who was in there, what they were wearing—just the fabric—and when they’d last showered within the first five seconds. And most of the time, that wasn’t a good thing. Not in a tavern like this. It was packed as usually. All werewolves were big by nature in their human bodies, and compared to them, I could be easily mistaken for a witch. But werewolves depended on their noses most of the time, too, though their sense was a lot weaker than mine. And my smell said that I was one of them.

  Too bad Mickey, my bartender sort-of-friend, wasn’t working tonight.

  I sat on the only empty stool at the bar. Hannah, the other bartender I didn’t particularly like, was all fake smiles when she saw me.

  “The usual?” she asked me, and I nodded, returning the favor.

  I realize it doesn’t look good when a bartender at a tavern knows your usual, but I liked to congratulate myself over jobs gone well every now and then. So sue me. I found a lot of missing animals. I found all of them in fact. It’s all there on my website. People called, I got their address, went around the house to sniff for the animal’s scent, and then pretty much followed it to wherever it led. The fresher the trail, the faster the job. And that was that. My nose never lied. It never fooled me.

  It never fooled my wolf.

  “Bad day?” said Hannah when she slid my drink over the counter. She was just trying to get herself a good tip. What the hell, I was in a good mood.

  “On the contrary,” I said and handed her a twenty.

  Grinning, she winked at me. “Let me know when you need me.”

  And that was that. I wondered where Ricky was. He was usually very good for a lengthy conversation that lasted a few hours because he had to go back and forth behind the bar to serve everyone looking to get drunk.

  I thought it was just going to be one of those nights. I’d get a bit drunk, find my way to my apartment, and sleep until morning without even the bother of dreams.

  Unfortunately, the night had other plans in store for me.

  When I only breathe through the mouth, it’s good. Really good, because I don’t want to gag all the damn time. It wasn’t just the bad smells, either. The sheer intensity of them made me want to throw my guts out every second.

  But breathing through my mouth had its downsides, too, and one of them was that I could be caught by surprise at any given time. When the man sitting on the stool next to mine abruptly stood up, I thought he was going for the loo, but then another, bigger man took his place instantly. As soon as I saw his face, I knew it had been a mistake coming here, and my night was not going to be peaceful.

  Turning my head the other way, I hoped he’d get the hint and leave me alone. He didn’t.

  “Hello, Victoria,” he said. He sounded angry, though there was a smile on his face.

  That was Finn Germain for ya. He was a werewolf, too, minus his left leg, and he owned and operated the most dangerous paranormal agency in the country. He wasn’t a very creative guy. Really. His agency was called Finn’s Agency for Unusual Orders.

  “What do you want?” I asked him, hoping I could get him off my back quick and continue my night pretending he hadn’t been there at all. No such luck.

  “That’s no way to greet a friend, kid,” he said, and Hannah slid a glass of whiskey on the rocks his way without bothering to speak to him. Maybe Finn was a regular at the Big Bad Wolf, too. I just hadn’t seen him around until now.

  “I’m not your friend.” I reminded him and continued to sip my drink. Please, for the love of God, drop off the face of the earth, I kept on praying.

  “Acquaintances, perhaps?” he suggested.

  I turned and stared at him with my worst death glare. “What do you want?”

  “I’ve got a job to offer you,” he said, no longer able to maintain his smile. Now, he sounded mad and he looked like it, too. Nothing new there.

  “No.” Really, how many times did I have to tell him this?

  “It pays a lot. It’ll get you out of that shithole you call home, and maybe a change of clothes?” He looked down at my dark jeans, sneakers, and plain green shirt.

  “I don’t need a change of clothes,” I spit. If he was hoping to be funny, all he was doing was pissing me off.

  And when I got pissed off, she was interested.

  And when she was interested, things ended badly. My wolf didn’t play games.

  “C’mon, Victoria. This has your name written all over it.” He put a yellow folder on the counter and his huge hand above it.

  “I can’t believe you’re going to make me say this again, but I—”

  “You don’t work with people. Yes, yes, I know,” he cut me off. “But this has to do with animals, too.”

  That stopped me for a good second. “It does?”

  “Oh, yes. Somebody’s using animals for rituals—and other shit.”

  Widening my eyes, I turned to look around. Was he crazy to talk about this in the middle of the tavern with all those people around?

  What people?

  Holy fuck, the tavern was almost empty, save for a few people at the very corners, who wouldn’t be able to hear a thing over the music and the alcohol in their veins. This just showed why I was never going to work for Finn. He could do things like that, control any situation, and I hated control.

  Mostly because I lacked it. Over my own fucking body.

  “They’re cutting them to pieces and then they’re using live ones to do stuff for them,” Finn continued.

  That made me laugh. “Using them? How?” Animals couldn’t be used.

  “Fuck if I know,” said Finn. “But, Victoria, it’s pack wolves, too.”

  Pack wolves. I knew what pack wolves were all too well.

  “What pack?” I asked against my better judgment.

  “Kaynes,” Finn said in a hushed whisper. My blood ran cold.

  The Kaynes were one of the two biggest werewolf packs in the country, a
longside the Brighams. My pack. And pack wolves were real wolves, born and raised among pack members, sacred to the pack community and to every werewolf in the world. We draw strength from them and respect them more than we respect each other. But pack wolves were not your usual wolves. They were bigger, smarter, stronger, faster. It took a lot to kill one, so whoever Finn was talking about, they were really something.

  “Who’s on it?” I asked, my voice dry, my whiskey forgotten.

  “Everyone,” Finn said. “The ECU, the packs, and they even have the witch covens in on it. Nobody can find a damn thing. We can’t trail them, and we’ve tried everything.”

  I jumped from the stool, impatient to get home already. “So, a lot of people,” I concluded. A lot of people made me edgy. My secret only stayed a secret because I minimized contact with my kind.

  “Not enough. A lot of people died in the Four Battles,” Finn said.

  I flinched. The Four Battles happened five months ago. They were the four nights during which Erick Adams, one of our leaders gone rogue, had unleashed his demon army onto the city of Manhattan, killing everyone—human and paranormal—until the entire city had been left almost completely empty. Yes, that asshole did kill a lot of people, but he was dead now. The demons remained still, but as far as I knew, they were being taken care of.

  “The ECU, the packs, the covens—I say those animals are in safe hands,” I said reluctantly.

  “Are you kidding? I just told you that nobody can track them!” Finn said, exasperated. “C’mon, kid. You’ve got the best nose I’ve ever come across, and you’re our best chance. You have to do this.”