The Frozen Witch Book One

  Chapter 7

  I hated clubs – hated the press of sweaty bodies, the musty scent of stale alcohol, the noise, the everything. If I wanted to go out and party, I never chose to do it in a sea of other people’s body odor.

  But right now I didn’t have an option.

  For about the millionth time, I ran a thumb along one of my bangles, my nails snagging against the lock.

  I couldn’t quite… accept it yet. Some part of me kept telling me this was a dream. That soon I’d wake up. Hell, maybe I was currently strapped down in some psychiatric ward, just waiting for this hallucination to break….

  Or maybe this was real, and it was time to get used to my new life.

  That thought sent a cold shiver slamming hard down my back. It shoved me forward, giving me the momentum I needed to push through the crowd.

  With the pulsing music thrumming through the floor and the low, sultry lighting, it was seriously hard to make out any faces through the crowd.

  My heart started to hammer in my chest, my mouth as dry as sawdust.

  I shook my head, sweaty hair jostling over my shoulders. I couldn’t really do this, could I? Chase down a criminal and drag him back to Vali?

  The answer was I really didn’t want to – but I didn’t have a choice.

  Just then, as I ticked my head back and skimmed my gaze over the crowd, I saw something. A flash of blue.

  Even from here, I could tell it was a magical symbol. I shoved to the side, trying to get a better look.

  My stomach clenched as I pushed onto my tippy toes and narrowed my eyes. There, just behind the gyrating businessman dancing with a girl half his age, I saw that same flash of blue.

  It was him. John Lambert.

  My cheeks twitched as a pulse of excitement and terror plunged through my stomach.

  I shoved off, heels clicking over the sticky, alcohol-covered floor.

  The nightclub was set on several levels, the main dance floor hemmed in by two mezzanine levels that you could get to buy split staircases.

  I watched my target dart up one of the packed staircases, his footfall quick. People were leaning on the railings or sitting on the steps, drinking, kissing, and quite possibly doing drugs. But I wasn’t here to collect on their crimes today.

  I felt my bangles grow heavier as I raced up the staircase, hopefully looking like I was eager to meet some friends, and not trying to run down a criminal.

  I saw John Lambert dart out of sight, movements quick, snapped like a predator tracking prey. As he shifted out of view, I saw a glimpse of the side of his face. What I saw made me sick to my stomach.

  I’d never been particularly good at reading people, not like Larry, anyway. Larry had a sixth sense for danger. He could also take one look at your face and realize you were guilty of dropping an entire tray of expensive champagne. He would dock it from your pay before you had a chance to stutter out a lie.

  Me? Despite my lack of skills in the prediction department, I suddenly knew that John Lambert was on the hunt. He was on a case, wasn’t he? He was about to go find his 36th victim.

  That fact struck me like a blow to the chest. Pressing my hands into white knuckled fists, I fought to suck in a breath as I pushed up the stairs.

  Like I’d said several times before, I was not a courageous woman. I always ran in the other direction when there was trouble. I always found someone else to hide behind. Right now, there was no one to hide behind. And from the little I’d learned about John Lambert, his victim would have no chance.

  There would be a murder here tonight unless I found a way to stop it.

  That fact alone was enough to cut through my fear. It was enough to drag me all the way up the stairs as I caught sight of him and continued to follow from a distance.

  I knew some people with nerves of steel. Some of Larry’s friends, to be exact. They were the kind of guys who could look you in the face during a poker game and cheat you out of your life savings with nothing more than a ballsy bluff. They were the kinds of guys who could face a mugger and growl in his face, stealing the guy’s wallet and mask before the crim knew what hit him.

  Even though I convinced myself I was weak and pathetic, somehow I found the strength to keep an even expression as I pushed through the pulsating, dancing bodies. My heels quickening over the sticky floor, I watched John Lambert shift forward, steal someone’s drink from the table, down it, flick his head to the side, loosen his shoulders, then head toward the door at the side of the room.

  I hung back for several seconds, heart driving wildly in my chest, but breath remarkably steady. I waited for him to dart out of sight. Rather than let the door close, I shifted forward and shoved my heel in it at the last moment.

  Pausing, I followed him through the door. Beyond, it was gloomy, several light fittings broken and flickering, casting the long hallway into an eerie glow.

  I was so very aware of the gun in the back of my pants. As I followed, it seemed heavier than a boulder as it brushed against my back. I knew full well that when I confronted John, I would have seconds to pull my gun out. But I was gambling on something, wasn’t I? That he would be scared enough of the gun to give himself up. What if he was a good bluffer? What if he ran at me, and I shot him? Vali had told me that if I killed John, I would lose my contract. I would succumb to my sins.

  The pressure started to get too much for me, and just as I felt my brow drench with sweat once more, I reminded myself that John was here to kill a man. I was the only one who could stop him.

  I hung back, trying to keep the clip-clopping sounds of my heels to a minimum so I didn’t draw John’s attention.

  He looked drawn, seemed focused, intent on whatever foul task he was here to perform. From the exact line of his back and shoulders, to the darting movements of his head, I could tell he was in predator mode. That fact made me sick to my stomach.

  I continued to follow at a distance as he darted down several staircases, heading even lower into the building. From the outside, I’d assumed there were only several levels to this building, but I now counted at least two basement levels, if not three.

  As we shifted further down, something struck me. What if this place was magical? What if John wasn’t the only practitioner around here? I knew nothing about this world, so I had absolutely no idea what I would be up against.

  Slowly, carefully, I pushed myself down the stairs, one hand locked on the railing, the other hovering close behind my back, ready to grab my gun at the first opportunity.

  That’s… that’s when I heard a scream.

  With a low, punctuated breath, I jolted forward toward it. Not away. Apparently, I was more courageous than I thought. Or maybe I really didn’t want to fail Vali.

  I followed the scream.