Hex and the Single Witch
- Genre: Paranormal
- Author: Roxanne Rhoads
- Chapters: 53
- Status: Ongoing
- Age Rating: 18+
- 👁 557
- ⭐ 7.5
- 💬 5
Annotation
Anwyn Rose is descended from a long line of powerful witches yet she can barely cast spells young witchlings have mastered. She has one functioning witch gift, the power of knowing, which she puts to good use as a Detective on Flint's Preternatural Investigation Team. It's a new era in Vehicle City, supernaturals are running the town. The P.I.T. has its hands full of paranormal crimes. The top priority is a serial killer, who appears to be a vampire, draining young women in the city. Anwyn is on the case with her s*xy partner Detective Mike Malone. Complicating things is her relationship with Galen, a vampire who looks more guilty than innocent, although Anwyn trusts her instincts even if her power is on the fritz. Mysterious spells, compromising situations, and a possible demon on the loose make it hard to focus on the case, but Anwyn has to make things right before the human police execute the wrong vampire. Hex and the Single Witch contains magick, a little bit of mystery, a lot of supernatural mayhem, and a s*xy love triangle that will leave you wanting more.
Chapter 1
Vampires strutted their stuff on a runway showcasing popular fashions from the past two centuries while Right Said Fred’s “Too S*xy” blared in the background. Several svelte vamps showed off sharp and pointy fangs. Bright red drops of blood glistened on pearl-white skin.
What the hell was going on? I had to be dreaming. This was just too weird, even for my life.
With that thought, the dream quickly drifted away, yet I still heard the music.
Where was it coming from?
My body figured it out before my brain did. I could feel myself reaching.
I cracked one eye open and realized it was my cell phone, but how the hell did “Too S*xy” end up as my ringtone?
I managed to hit the accept button as I further extricated myself from sleep’s firm grasp. Not far enough because instead of saying hello I mumbled something along the lines of “I’m too s*xy.”
An irritated male voice responded hesitantly, “Rose?”
“Mmmmm, hmmm,” I murmured, which could have been interpreted as either a yes or no.
“Where are you?” asked the deep and rumbly male voice.
“On the catwalk,” I blurted. Sleep still clouded my brain as song lyrics danced behind my eyes and found their way out of my mouth.
“Detective Anwyn Rose, can you please step back into reality?” Uh-oh, now he sounded really upset.
Sh*t, I sat up, smacked myself in the face rubbing the remaining sleep out of my eyes. I dropped the phone on my chest and then picked it up. “Sorry, I’m here.”
“Were you asleep?” he asked.
Duh!
“Uh, yeah, seems that way,” I muttered sarcastically.
“Well, wake up sleeping beauty, I need you downtown.”
I sighed. If he needed me it meant a paranormal crime had taken place. I’d been needed a lot lately. “Okay, where?”
“Hit the bricks and you’ll see the lights and crime scene tape.”
“All right, Malone, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Make it quick.” Then he hung up.
“Goodbye to you, too.” The clock read 12:34 A.M. Wow, I was never asleep this early. After days without sleep, I guess it finally catches up. I sat up on my sofa and found a book on my lap. I vaguely remembered my attempt to read but didn’t remember anything about the book. Doubt I got very far. Sleep probably claimed me immediately.
At least I didn’t have to get dressed. I slid on my shoes, grabbed a sweater, and glanced in the mirror on my way out. Guess I looked all right for having just awakened. My hair wasn’t too much of a mess and my makeup was still on.
I climbed into my car and headed toward downtown Flint. It was a creepy, dark, and foggy night.
Hmm…murder on a foggy fall night, it was becoming a common occurrence in Flint.
The murder, not the fog.
Just last weekend six people were killed in Flint; five deaths were ruled homicides while the sixth was determined a suicide, committed after the man killed his wife. Flint crime rates had skyrocketed in the past several years. The number of murders in our small city seemed extreme. Most were mundane human murders, but tonight’s homicide was not or they wouldn’t have called me. Preternatural crime rates in the area had shot up to an all-time high, especially now with a fanged serial killer was on the prowl.
An involuntary shudder rippled through my body as I tried to focus on something other than death. So, I puzzled over the fog.
Unlike murder, the fog was rare in Flint. The unseasonable heat and intense humidity of the day gave way to mugginess and a thick nighttime haze. Driving through the creepy clumps of swirling substance wracked my nerves. Most people never knew what lurked out there, hiding under the cover of normalcy.
I did.
I shivered. Sometimes the creep factor got to me. Like now, when I drove all alone in the middle of the night.
I sighed in relief at seeing the first of the brightly lit, wrought iron Vehicle City arches signifying the main part of downtown Flint. The lighted arches fought with the fog, pushing it away from downtown and dispelling it to the outer areas of the city.
I loved the arches; installed in 2003 as one of the first steps in revitalizing the area. They duplicated the original Vehicle City arches erected in 1899. They dressed up the city and added a welcome glow to the dark nights.
I yawned nervously, making my way deeper into downtown Flint. Police cars and multiple bright flashing sets of lights blocked off the northern part of Saginaw Street along the main strip. I pulled up behind an ambulance and stepped out onto the brick-paved street.
Good thing I didn’t wear heels. This brick street had a knack for destroying them. Unlike female police detectives on television shows, I never showed up at a crime scene wearing spike heels or s*xy stilettos.
Thankfully, no fog penetrated the inner area of the city. The October night was surprisingly warm and balmy, a rarity in Michigan. I’ve ridden on too many haunted hayrides over the years where I froze my butt off, and even suffered through the snow on Halloween more than once.
We have a Michigan saying: “Don’t like the weather? Wait fifteen minutes and it’ll change.” Didn’t really need the light sweater I tossed on, but probably would within the next couple of hours.
I followed the clues pointing me in the direction of the crime scene. I flashed my shiny FPD detective shield and P.I.T. Crew badge to the uniformed officer standing guard by the yellow tape. He glanced at my badge, glanced at me, then waved me through without a word.
After I ducked under the yellow crime scene tape, voices and sounds led me into a small, smelly alley behind one of the brick buildings lining this part of Saginaw Street. The odors of old urine and new garbage battled with the odors of blood, s*x, and dark magick. I smelled the sulfurous stench of an evil spell before I ever reached the crime scene. It wafted toward me, strong and fresh.
I rounded the corner and spotted bare flesh on the grimy concrete of the alley.
My worst fear lay on the ground in front of me, another young woman dead.
Chapter 2
Everyone stood out of the way…waiting, as if ready for me to cough up answers. No one told me anything. I needed to see things first hand, feel them so my power could tell me the truth. I don’t like to think about things too much ahead of time or it might cloud my interpretation of the visions.
No one said anything as I walked around the woman. They knew the drill. I needed to get a feel for things without anyone else’s impressions interfering. Old magick surrounded her. Dark magick. I didn’t need to touch her to feel the malice still lingering around her dead body. This indicated more than an average killing by a vampire. Normal vampires didn’t possess magick like this.
Poor woman, she didn’t deserve to be used up and left like trash in an alley. Exposed for all the world to see. One breast hung out of her torn top, bra scrunched up underneath pushing her large breast out. Her thong was ripped off and discarded at her side. Her skirt pushed up around her waist, legs ben