Savior's Hex: A fae and fur urban fantasy (Spellcaster Series Book 2)

  Savior’s Hex

  A Fae and Fur Urban Fantasy

  Gwen Rivers

  Copyright © 2020 by Elements Unleashed

  Cover design by Kelvin Tang

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Praise for Gwen Rivers

  "...an intense story."

  Michelle, Goodreads reviewer

  "I love these characters..."

  Andrea, Bookbub reviewer

  "..will have you riveted to your seat and not wanting to put it down.”

  — J, AMAZON REVIEWER

  Savior’s Hex

  Autumn in New York has never been so beautiful...or so deadly.

  When a notorious fae-hating celebrity dies under mysterious circumstances, the police suspect the forever young. Spellcaster Emma Slade and Alpha werewolf Liam Cooper launch their own investigation into the crime. Bad PR could poison public opinion faster than gas station sushi. But how can they catch a murderer not bound by flesh?

  Supernatural problems have magical solutions....

  With hate groups sprouting up like hair on a werewolf's backside, Emma and Liam must provoke the gods into revealing a closely guarded secret. With every mortal body susceptible to the power of possession, how long before friend becomes foe? And will Emma's life magic be enough to save the one she loves most?

  Return to the streets of the sixth borough and revel in the magic!

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  It’s not my words that count. It’s yours!

  Also by Gwen Rivers

  About the Author

  1

  “Come on, Emma.” Liam leaned on the counter, all werewolf sexy GQ. His golden-brown hair tussled but not in a bedhead sort of way. More like he had been running his hands through it in frustration. The two-day stubble along his chin was perfect, as was his body of all lean muscle and tensile strength. He wore a black long-sleeved t-shirt that clung to him like a second skin and faded blue jeans. His black leather jacket and motorcycle helmet resided on the barstool next to him.

  His mismatched eyes—one blue and one green—assessed me from the hair falling out of my haphazard bun, the coffee stain above my left boob to the cuffs of my fraying jeans. It was clear from the way he looked at me that he didn’t see the hodgepodge of flaws. Only the obstinate half-fae female standing in his way.

  That roguish smile made a cameo and my knees went a little weak. I half expected him to say, Hey, little girl, what if I huff and puff and blow all your clothes off….

  I was so lost in the stupid fantasy that I missed what he actually said. “Come again?”

  He gave me a one-shoulder shrug. “What will one date hurt?”

  I didn’t have to answer, I took the large, black ceramic mug from off the counter and brought it over to the copper tubs that housed the coffee that I knew Liam liked the best. The Arabic brew was much like Liam—tall, strong, and dangerous if you overindulged.

  Fantasy was one thing. I had to live in the reality where the charming and persistent alpha could annihilate my future.

  “It can hurt our professional relationship.” I inhaled the alluring scent of coffee, that permeated the air in the magical place I’d come to love. Hard to believe when taking in the polished chrome tables, plush oversized booth seats and the soft glow of the Edison bulbs ensconced in funky industrial lamps that a few months ago Java Have Mercy was an abandoned Italian Restaurant.

  Liam had transformed it into the premier place in Manhattan to meet a real, live werewolf.

  Like the one who kept hounding me for a date.

  I set the mug down in front of him. “You’re my boss.”

  “So?” he picked up the coffee and inhaled deeply. He didn’t close his eyes though. All that intense focus was still trained on me.

  I snagged a bar towel and turned to wipe down the tables. “And my landlord.”

  Liam sipped his coffee then repeated, “So?”

  For a smart guy, he sure could be dense. “So, what if things go sideways? Where will that leave me? Jobless and homeless. Again. Been there, done that, not interested in going back to living that way.” I turned one of the ladder-back chairs up on a table.

  Liam set his coffee down and got up to help. “I wouldn’t put you out. You’re my mate.”

  It took effort not to roll my eyes as I reached for the broom. “And that and five bucks will pay for coffee and a scone.” Well, maybe a day-old scone. This was Manhattan.

  “You’re not taking me seriously,” Liam pressed.

  It was an effort not to throw my hands up in the air. “How can I? I don’t even know what the whole mate thing means.”

  “Then let me explain it to you. Over dinner.”

  I made an impatient sound. “Liam—”

  Over on the counter, his phone started playing Moondance. Saved by Van Morrison. Gotta love a timely Irishman.

  Unfortunately, Liam didn’t leap on the distraction.

  It rang again.

  I tilted my head toward the song. “Aren’t you going to get that?”

  He ignored the sound and moved closer. He didn’t touch me. Liam knew more about my past than almost anyone. He knew casual touching often wigged me out.

  “You want to know what being my mate means? It means when we are in the middle of a conversation, I won’t allow any distractions to divert my attention from you. You come first, Emma. Always.”

  My lips parted but for once I didn’t have a quip at the ready.

  His multihued eyes were intense. “All I’m asking for is dinner. No promises, no commitments beyond the evening. You only spend time with me here.”

  “That’s because I’ve been banished from the PR.” The fae had literally voted my ass off the island that housed the supernatural sixth borough.

  “It wasn’t anything to do with you.” Liam insisted.

  “I know that.” I focused a good deal of attention on sweeping a stray sugar packet out from the corner of the room. Though I am technically half-fae, I’m also half-human, a unique combination known as a spellcaster. The full-blooded fae didn’t like spellcasters because halflings possessed the ability to wield the life magic that came from the elements.

  Liam scowled as though the reminder upset him. “I’m working on them. Their blind prejudice about spellcasters is only going to get them into trouble. Being a spellcaster doesn’t make you a bad person. They need to accept that.”

  Part of Liam’s job as Alpha was to guard the pocket realm, the sixth borough of New York that had been created by a giant for the forever young. The PR was supposed to be a transitional space for all fae to learn how to live as humans did. At present, it was an island unto itself.

  Literally. It was an exact replica of Manhattan, sans the pesky mortals.

  Liam’s phone had quit ringing. He moved closer until I had to crane my neck to look up at him.
If I enjoyed the way the coffee shop smelled it was nothing compared to the smell of clean male flesh with just a hint of deep dark woods that was Liam’s unique scent.

  His mismatched eyes searched my features in a way that made me feel as though I stood in front of him naked.

  I shouldn’t have kissed him. Then I wouldn’t be staring at his lips, remembering the feel of them pressed against my own.

  “Emma—,” he reached for me and my heart thudded.

  What the hell was I going to do if he pulled me to him? Kissed me?

  Moondance started again, interrupting whatever it was he’d been about to say.

  “It must be important.” I licked suddenly dry lips.

  “Just promise me you’ll think about it,” the Alpha’s voice was husky.

  “I’ll think about it.” The fae couldn’t lie and neither could I. Not that I had any choice in the matter.

  I turned toward the storage room to give him privacy for his phone call. The coffee shop’s inventory waited for my attention. A solid pain-in-the-ass task to keep me out of his line of sight so that I could remember how to breathe.

  What had once been a professional kitchen had been converted into an employee lounge and massive storage area. A smaller, more updated kitchen complete with wall ovens, a gas range, a country-style porcelain sink and butcher block countertops took up the former bar area. Liam had done it all, knowing how much I enjoyed cooking.

  Think about it, he’d said. I’d been doing little else since I started working for Liam. How could I not obsess? He was beautiful, powerful and kind. Not the domineering alphahole I had first thought. Liam knew my secrets. All of them. And he wanted me anyway. He was relentless in his pursuit of me. It would take a stronger will than my own to shut him down completely.

  “You’re smarter than this, Emma,” I muttered as I ticked off the low inventory of French Roast. “Start acting like it.”

  I’d just finished counting the biodegradable to-go coffee cups and made a note to order more from the supplier when Liam pushed into the back room.

  I made an exasperated noise but he held his phone up. “Tell me what you think of this.”

  “This better not be a dick pic.” I took the phone from him, read the headline and frowned.

  “Celebrity dies of autoerotic asphyxiation?” I scowled up at him. “It’s clickbait, nothing more.”

  “Keep reading,” Liam pressed.

  “Celebrity Tony Grant was found dead in his apartment earlier today. The three-time Academy Award nominee was apparently strangled to death by a cord of his own making. He was nude and police sources say there was no sign of a struggle.” I looked up to Liam. “Seems cut and dry to me.”

  “Keep reading,” Liam repeated.

  “Although police are calling it an open and shut case, Grant’s agent, Huey Downs, has a different opinion. ‘Mark my words the fae have something to do with this,’ Downs said when he heard the news.”

  I frowned. “What made him think—?”

  Liam took the phone back. “Because Grant’s latest role was that of a fae. Ever since the sixth borough appeared, Hollywood has been crapping out fae-themed motion pictures left and right. Most of them were complete dreck but I get the feeling that this one might have included something more.”

  “How does one commit a murder and make it look like autoerotic asphyxiation? And why bother? Wouldn’t it be easier to stage a suicide?”

  Liam held my gaze. “I don’t know, but I think we should find out.”

  When I mentioned a date this wasn’t what I had in mind, Liam thought half an hour later as he and Emma stood outside Grant’s apartment building along with what seemed half of New York.

  “Fae haters,” Liam’s lip curled up as he spied the tattoo of one notorious group. Silver wings slashed through with a bloody x. “This is what I was afraid of.”

  Beside him, Emma shivered. He doubted it had anything to do with the chill autumn night. “How are we going to get past them?”

  As a spellcaster, Emma could mostly pass for human. Only her fae ears, which she kept covered with her long brown hair, and the purple and gold glyphs on her arms currently hidden by her leather coat, marked her as anything other than a full human.

  His face was the problem. As in, he was an outted supernatural. Freaking billboard ad. Liam gritted his teeth, pulled out his phone and called his PA. North answered on the first ring.

  “It is something, da?” the Russian voice said.

  “Da,” Liam agreed. “Emma and I are outside the building and we need a covert way to get in.”

  “Give me five minutes.” North hung up.

  “What put him onto this?” Emma studied the crowd, her gray gaze assessing.

  “North routinely scans the headlines for mentions of fae and the PR.” Liam didn’t tell her what a precarious perch the supernatural community stood on. How the fae refusing to leave their borough or allow humans inside fueled the growing fear that plagued their human neighbors.

  The mortals were right to be afraid. The majority of the fae viewed humanity as prey. They stole from them, tricked them, used and abused them whenever they could. Spellcasters were routinely killed at birth because the fae feared their innate magic. Liam had gotten more than one migraine puzzling out a way to remedy the situation.

  North sent back a text with an attachment.

  Liam studied the sidewalk and then the blueprints. According to North’s research, the basement of the victim’s building and the one next door were connected.

  “This way.” Liam gripped Emma’s hand in his. He tried not to notice how good it felt just to touch her. How right. His mate. The beast inside him stretched in satisfaction.

  They entered through the front door of the brownstone, which the doorman held open for him. Liam frowned. He seemed to remember the man, though he couldn’t recall where—

  “Liam?” A soft, feminine voice stopped him cold.

  Not again. Liam froze as a familiar blonde woman approached him. He’d paused so suddenly Emma slammed into his back and would have gone sprawling if he didn’t have a grip on her.

  “I thought it was you.” The woman’s brown eyes scanned him from head to toe. “You look so different without the beard.”

  “Yeah, I shaved it.” He ran a hand over his jaw. Shit. No wonder the doorman had looked familiar. He’d been to the female’s apartment on more than one occasion.

  “It’s been so long,” The blonde—damned if he could remember her name, Francine, maybe—took in the grip he had on Emma and frowned.

  “How long has it been, Liam?” Emma’s tone was too sweet, her expression mock innocent.

  Double shit. “I….”

  “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” his mate pushed.

  No, because he couldn’t recall the other female’s name! Was she in finance? Or maybe she worked the stock market. Something to do with money. She’d meant little to him at the time other than a willing partner and even less now that he had found his mate. He couldn’t read Emma at all. Was she jealous? She didn’t look jealous, just amused as she watched him squirm. Her gray eyes were full of mischief, not possessiveness and that pissed him right off.

  Which was wrong on every level. But he wanted her to lay claim to him. His wolf needed her the same way he needed air to breathe.

  And though the thought of committing to one woman had unsettled him at first, since he’d met Emma, Liam knew that was what he wanted. Forever with her.

  She’d been on the edge of agreeing to a date earlier. He’d been patient, stalking her until she was cornered, waiting until she felt comfortable and secure. He applied steady pressure, never letting her doubt that he wanted her, that he was waiting for her to want him back.

  Damn you, North. He cursed his PA for not finding another way into that building. He would rather be belly crawling through the sewer than in this position in front of Emma. Again.

  His mate, damn her, stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Emma Slad
e, I work for Liam.”

  “Jeanette.” The blonde appeared relieved at the introduction.

  Jeanette? Where had he gotten Francine from?

  “Liam if you aren’t busy later,” Jeanette began, her voice husky with invitation. Full panic set in.

  “I am. Busy. Later.” He forced a smile he didn’t feel and felt like a loser when she frowned. “Monumentally busy. No time. Better if you forget I exist. Take care.”

  Time to get the hell out of there.

  Liam tugged Emma to the elevator and pressed the down button.

  “Not one word,” he said as the doors closed. He could still feel Jeannette’s gaze burning a hole in his back.

  “Not a peep.” It appeared Emma was fighting her laughter, pressing her lips together into a tight line. He wished she wouldn’t, even if it was at his expense.

  Liam let out a breath. “Go ahead and laugh before you explode.” He could deny her nothing.

  She doubled over, wheezing with laugher. He stared at the numbers, feeling the heat of humiliation slowly fade to be replaced by an easy warmth. His mate was happy.

  He’d take happy over jealous any day.

  The doors dinged open and Emma wiped mirthful tears from her eyes. “That makes two in one year. And you couldn’t remember her name either? What are the odds? No, really?”

  “Laugh it up, smartass.” He pulled her into the subbasement and then checked his phone again.

  “Where exactly are we?” Emma glanced from side to side. “And more importantly, what are we doing down here?”