Midlife Witch Hunter (The Forty Proof Series Book 6) Read online

  Midlife Witch Hunter

  THE FORTY PROOF SERIES, BOOK 6

  SHANNON MAYER

  Contents

  Foreword

  Acknowledgments

  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

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Up Next!

  About the Author

  Foreword

  Author’s Note:

  Note: I’d call the first three chapters a prologue, but some of you readers don’t like to read prologues (weird, I know), and if you don’t read THIS prologue, you’ll really be ducked for the rest of the book and series. I mean . . . do you want to miss out on things? Important things? I just don’t understand why you’d skip a prologue. I mean, I can see skipping acknowledgments, author’s notes, shit like that. Who cares, right? Let’s be honest, if you’re still with me now, at this point in a long-ass author’s note, you are a step above. A real loyal reader who is just waiting for me to spill some unreal secret that you won’t find anywhere else.

  Like that I have TWO new series starting in 2022. One is paranormal women’s fiction, and the other is urban fantasy. Just in case you were wondering. I might even have covers for them at the back of this book somewhere.

  Anyhoo, on with the show, as the saying goes ;)

  Midlife Witch Hunter, Forty Proof Series Book Six

  All rights reserved

  HiJinks Ink Publishing

  www.shannonmayer.com

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a database and retrieval system or transmitted in any form or any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the owner of the copyright and the above publishers.

  Please do not participate in or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either 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.

  Original illustrations by Momir

  Mayer, Shannon

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgments

  I love this series. I love Bree, Feish (pronounced FISH), Crash, and Robert. I love all the characters and they have in some cases come straight out of my real life. So, thank you to the assholes in my life for helping me create realistic bad guys. As for the good people, the loyal and love-you-through-anything people, thank you for reminding me that there is always a light in the darkness.

  Most especially, thank you to the love of my life. My little boy, who is my reason for working as much as I do. He is my biggest light, and I can’t wait for him to be able to read my books.

  When he’s like . . . thirty.

  Chapter

  One

  CRASH

  I left Bree there, at the fort. Gathered up my army and left her, because I could not bear to see the hurt in her beautiful eyes. Hurt that I’d caused. Because I was bound to the Dark Council. I didn’t hold with what they were planning, but it didn’t matter—I had no choice but to stand with them, which meant I could not stand by her side.

  The goblin city inside of the realm of fae was as good a place as any for me to lick my wounds, yet it still wasn’t where I wanted to be.

  “Boss man, that was a frackus, wanninit? Demons! Damn, I’d have never thought your girl would bring demons to stop us!” Leland popped around a corner and strode into my room. Tall and slender for a goblin, he was not well liked, and the others often treated him as though he were a half-breed.

  “Leland, not right now, and she’s not my girl.” I uncorked a bottle of ogre beer with my teeth and spat the cork to one side. I downed three long pulls from the bottle, yet even that powerhouse booze didn’t do more than make me wobble.

  I wanted to sleep.

  To put it all from my mind for a little while and pretend that I wasn’t alone again.

  “Yeah, but it was fun, boss! We all had a good time! I like her, you know. She’s got some grit.” Leland strode across the room and took the bottle from me, sniffed it and curled up his nose. His bright blond hair stood straight up all over, as if he’d been playing with electricity.

  I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath. “Leland, get out.”

  “Nah, I thinkin’ that is a bad idea.” It sounded like he pushed the beer to the side, across the table in front of me. “You’ve got problems, and ogre beer won’t really be helping to solve them.”

  I opened my eyes, and he was sitting on the table where the beer had been. It was not a welcome replacement. “I’m well aware of that.”

  “I think you should go down to the smithy and bash some steel. Make a new weapon.” Leland grinned, flashing a mouthful of sharp teeth. “Maybe something for your girl? She seems to like sharp things.”

  “She’s not my girl,” I repeated, hearing the Irish in my voice deepen. Anger was not my friend lately. Another day, I would have put more effort into making him leave me alone or convincing him that Bree was not my girl. The problem was she had my heart in a way I’d never experienced before . . . and I had given my loyalty to those who would see her dead.

  My jaw clamped shut, the urge to hit something nearly overwhelming. I turned away from Leland. “Maybe I will bash some steel.” Pushing past him, I made my way through the goblin castle, down across the main street, and to the only smithy in the realm of fae. I’d built this smithy with my own two hands when I’d first realized that I was different from the other fae, different even than the goblins and darker fae. When I’d first realized that I didn’t fit in anywhere. It had become my refuge, my place of solitude and my place of growth.

  I’d brought men from the human world here—blacksmiths who taught me how to work metal. Farriers who taught me how to bend steel in the most efficient way possible. Metalsmiths who taught me how to work the finer metals into detailed art and dainty jewelry.

  The large iron doors to my home, my sanctuary, were cracked open, when I knew I’d left them closed.

  My hand slid down to the sword still attached to my hip. Sliding my fingers around the hilt, I pulled it free slowly, silently. In my mind, I could hear Bree muttering about all the ‘s’ sounds and the thought made my lips tip upward.

  Even now, I couldn’t let her go.

  Stepping sideways, I pressed my back to the door and held my breath. Someone was moving around inside, clinking the metal pieces together.

  Touching my shit.

  Jaw tight, I stepped through the door, opening it farther as I went and then quietly shutting it behind me. Whoever was in here wouldn’t be leaving without going through me.

  The forge was dark, lit by nothing more than the banked coals t
hat remained wherever I set up shop. That light was not bright enough to illuminate the entire room, and I waited near the door.

  “You’d best consider what your life is worth,” I growled.

  A low, masculine chuckle echoed through the space. “Ah, mais oui. So much courageux from you, Blacksmith.”

  “Louis?”

  What in the name of all that was fae was the necromancer doing in my forge? I rolled my eyes and lowered my sword. I snapped my fingers, and the banked flames burst to life, roaring up and revealing the scrawny French necromancer standing directly next to the forge.

  He didn’t flinch, didn’t step back.

  I frowned. That did not fit with the Louis I knew. “What are you doing here?” I tossed my sword on the work bench. I would need to clean it. Vampire blood was almost as bad as a demon’s blood. It could etch blades if given enough time to sit, and my blade had been coated in Joseph’s gore. Thinking about him conjured an image of him in my mind—I could see him holding onto Bree, threatening her, and my breath and heart both hitched.

  “I came to discuss your current situation with you.” Louis flared his nostrils wide and smiled as he tucked his hands behind his back. “I believe you owe your allegiance to the Dark Council, yes?”

  I fought off the flinch and gave a slow nod, even though I wondered why he was bringing this up. “I do.”

  “And they are controlled by . . . remind me again?” The way he was speaking told me he already knew. Louis was power tripping.

  “Clovis,” I said.

  “Correct, and I work directly for Clovis, which means you work for me.” Louis’s smile widened, and he touched a hand to his chest. But his glee slid away when I didn’t respond. “You. Work. For. Me.” He snapped the words with each step that he took closer to me.

  I raised an eyebrow and stared him in the face. “I don’t. Get out of my forge.”

  The Louis I knew would have left in a huff, stomping his feet and cussing me out in French.

  This new version of Louis got right in my face. “You will take this—” he shoved something heavy into my hand, “—and you will finally make the crucible. The Dark Council will no longer remain in the shadows. You will do your part to make sure of it.”

  My hand closed around the object, feeling the stone, and knowing exactly what it was—the fairy cross.

  “Where did you find it?” I breathed the question.

  “Clever putain, she hid it beneath the oak tree.”

  Whore. He’d called Bree a whore.

  I don’t really remember moving, only we were standing still one second, and the next I had Louis pinned against the wall by his throat. That moment could have changed my life.

  If I’d only understood all the currents that were swirling around me.

  If I’d killed him then, maybe . . .

  “Watch your mouth about her,” I growled.

  Louis laughed, though it was a rather choked sound. “Fool.”

  I dropped him to the ground, and he stumbled to the side, sliding down the wall. “Fool,” he repeated. “She is your weakness, and Clovis knows it. Make the crucible. Her life is on the line if you take a step in a direction he does not like.” He held up a hand, stopping me before I could argue. “And I do not mean he will kill her. I mean that he will hurt her, worse than she has even been hurt by you or that clown of an ex-husband. He will destroy her life and make her suffer in ways even you cannot dream of.”

  Louis pulled himself up and dusted himself off, then walked to the closed door. “You know the time limit?”

  I didn’t move, couldn’t for fear of what I might say or do. Words and actions that could hurt the one person I wanted desperately to protect . . . even from me.

  “You will need the old witch,” Louis said as he stepped out the door. “You will need her magic to make the crucible all we require it to be.”

  The door didn’t even click behind the miserable fuck before I threw my sword across the room, followed by the fairy cross. The sword thunked into the far wall and stayed there, embedded and quivering as I struggled to control the rage rolling through me. The fairy cross dropped to the ground unscathed.

  Time ticked by and slowly, ever so slowly, I managed to get my breathing under control. Losing myself to rage would not help anyone. I had to find a way to outsmart Clovis and the Dark Council.

  I could not let Bree suffer because of my past. Because of a mistake I’d made when I was barely old enough to be called a man. Back then, I’d truly believed in what the Dark Council was offering. Or so I’d thought. Now? I was stuck.

  I half expected Feish to pop out and offer to get me some tea. Of course, she was with Bree now, which was for the best. They would both be safer that way. I ran a hand over my face, wiping away the sweat, and took one step, then another, until I was at the forge.

  Driving a poker into the coals, I grabbed the hand crank that pushed air into the base and spun it. Flames curled up around the black chunks, brightening to a nearly white-hot light. Too hot for what I wanted.

  Backing up, I stared at the flames, wondering just what the fuck I was going to do.

  “Pickle, huh?”

  I whipped around, dropping into a half crouch. “Enough with the people in my damn forge!”

  “Well, some days I’m not considered a person, so I don’t count.”

  Blinking, I looked down to see a leprechaun tapping his foot. “Oster Boon.”

  “Ah, so you do remember me.” He grinned.

  “You helped swear me into the council. I would not forget you.” I took a few steps back. I was not afraid of him, but I was frustrated to find myself dealing with not one but two members of the Dark Council within a matter of minutes. Only a few months before, I’d believed myself free of them forever. “What brings you to my forge, Oster Boon?”

  “Just Ozzie is fine.” He waved a hand at me, then climbed deftly up onto my work bench. “I came to have a chat with you. ‘Ní neart go cur le chéile.’” The Irish saying rolled off his tongue, taking me back to my childhood.

  I stared at him. “Agreed, generally there is strength in unity.” I didn’t dislike Oster—Ozzie—but I didn’t know him well. He’d always been quiet at meetings of the Dark Council, keeping his own counsel, as it were.

  “I see you had a visit from Louis.” Ozzie screwed up his face. “I never much liked him, to be honest.”

  “You knew he was in the Dark Council?” The news that Louis was working directly for Clovis had thrown me, but the reality was we didn’t really know one another. Gatherings were attended in hooded cloaks so we couldn’t identify one another. But some of the members, like Ozzie and myself, were somewhat . . . identifiable.

  Ozzie looked up at me. “Well, something you might be interested in . . . I know almost everyone in the Dark Council.”

  I snorted and leaned on the other side of the table that sat in the center of the room, gripping a sharp edge until it bit into my hands. “Why would that interest me?”

  His eyes were unfathomable as he stared me down. “Well, wouldn’t it work in your favor if each member of the Dark Council was . . . removed?”

  Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

  Chapter

  Two

  CRASH

  The table groaned under my hands as I leaned forward and stared at the leprechaun. “Say it clearly, Oster Boon, so there is no mistaking exactly what you be saying.”

  “Ozzie, call me Ozzie.” He eased himself up onto the table and walked toward me. Just like that, we were eye to eye. His smile looked as devious as his words. “I am trusting you because I saw your reaction to Louis. Because I see how you fight to protect the girl.” He drew in a breath. “And because I am dying. My job was to infiltrate the Dark Council and make them believe I was one of them. To help them disappear.”

  Yes, my jaw dropped, and I struggled to comprehend what he was saying.

  He held up a small finger. “I am not what one would expect of a spy, I know.
But that is why I have been successful up until now. Clovis . . . is questioning me.”

  “And you want me to defect? How will that help you?”

  “You already have. They control you only because of the girl. The girl my brother and I have been trying to help.” He squinted an eye at me. “You know who I mean?”

  “Eammon?” I shook my head, unwilling to say Bree’s name out loud here in the land of the fae. Maybe it was foolish—she wasn’t exactly shy about introducing herself—but I didn’t want to bring more trouble to her than I already had, and every fae who did not know her name was potentially one less problem. I chose to believe it protected her a little. “Eammon has always said you’re an unworthy—”

  “Again, he makes a better spy than people would think. You’d never expect it from someone with sixteen-inch legs.” He snorted. “But I digress. I think you are in a position where it would benefit you and the girl if you were to take them out one at a time. If Clovis does not have his council around him, he is vulnerable. And if he is vulnerable, he can be stopped.”

  The possibility laid out in front of me was almost too good to be true, and that made me nervous. “Do you understand what it is that he is trying to accomplish?” I asked. Not because I didn’t know, but because I wanted to make sure Oster knew what we were up against.