Hex and the Single Witch (Vehicle City Vampires)

Hex and the
Single Witch

Vehicle City
Vampires Book One

By Roxanne
Rhoads

Chapter 1

Vampires
strutted their stuff on a runway to Right Said Fred’s “Too Sexy.” They
showcased popular fashions from the past, styles of at least two hundred years
ago, along with plenty of sharp pointy fangs…some dripping blood.

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 Right Said
Fred’s “Too Sexy” end up as my ringtone?

I managed to hit
the green accept button as I further extricated myself from sleep’s firm grasp.
Apparently not far enough because instead of saying hello I mumbled something
along the lines of “I’m too sexy.”

An irritated
male voice responded hesitantly, “Rose?”

 “Mmmmm, hmmmm,”
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.

Shit, I sat up,
smacked myself in the face rubbing the remaining sleep out of my eyes. I
dropped the phone on my chest 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
quicker.”  Then he hung up.

“Goodbye to you,
too.” The clock read 12:34 A.M. Wow, I was never asleep this early. But when I
go days without sleep, guess it finally catches up. I sat on my sofa with a
book in my lap vaguely remembering my attempt to read, but didn’t remember
anything about the book. Doubted I got very far. Sleep probably claimed me
immediately.

Good news was I
didn’t have to get dressed. Slid on 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 in my
car and headed toward downtown. What 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 ruled homicides while the
sixth was determined a suicide, committed after the man killed his wife. Flint
crime rates had sky rocketed 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,
fog came 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 sexy 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, even suffered through 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,
sex, 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
laid on the ground in front of me, another young woman dead.

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 ripped off and discarded at
her side. Her skirt pushed up around her waist, legs bent; one off kilter and
to the side leaving her pretty much spread eagle. She lay wide open, her trendy
Brazilian wax job leaving nothing to the imagination.

Puncture marks
on her throat, combined with lack of blood, made it clear the cause of death
was exsanguination. No mystery how she died.

The mystery was
who killed her.

Who was this
powerful vampire, filled with old magick, killing women in Flint for the past
six months? And why? Why these particular women?

So far none of
our leads or my “knowing” abilities had led us to a connection between them.

I took a deep
breath and pushed all other thoughts out my head to focus on the scene…on the
dead woman in front of me.

They must have
been having sex against the wall. When he finished with her he simply dropped
her and walked away. What a bastard! He used pretty much the same MO as the
other murders over the past six months. He couldn’t leave any of the women with
dignity in death.

The woman
appeared young, no older than 25, tan, tight and pretty. This woman spent a lot
of time keeping fit and taking care of herself. French manicure, nice pedicure,
perfect highlights in her hair. Not a working girl. She looked much too healthy
and high class to be a street walker in Flint.

“So Annie, you
gonna do your thing so we can get her outta here before we are overrun with
gawkers? It’s almost last call,” the detective in charge, Mike Malone, asked.

The one who woke
me from my peaceful sofa slumber. He took lead detective role on all
preternatural crimes, was my partner, and typical hot cop beefcake. Big, sexy
as hell, with All American Guy Next Door appeal but he sometimes had the rough
personality of a stray dog in heat. All cocky swagger, absolutely no tact. His
idea of romance probably consisted of lighting a candle and saying, “Hey baby,
wanna get busy?”

No thanks. Not
even on my most desperate need for sex day…even if he transcended incredible
buffness and gorgeousness. But his crude ways, the fact he was a co-worker, and
pretty much my boss, made him totally off limits.

“Sure Detective
Malone, if you’re ready for me.”

“Annie, baby,
you know I’m always ready for you.”

See what I mean?
No tact.

“That’s enough,
Malone. Just ignore him, Detective Rose, and do your job. We’ve already bagged
all the evidence and taken photos. She’s all yours.”

“Thank you,
Captain.”

That would be
Captain Conally, Police Captain of the Preternatural Investigation Team, AKA
the P.I.T. Crew, here in Flint. The P.I.T. Crew was a special unit of the Flint
Police Department, completely separate from the main police force. Many
government officials didn’t even know what we did and the “crew” members were
recruited either for their special talents, known “Otherness,” or because they
showed skill in handling cases involving “Others.”

Captain Conally
didn’t do much field work anymore; he usually stayed at the station keeping
tabs on any crimes with possible supernatural origins, but he liked to stay up
to date on what his team members were doing in the field. So he occasionally
showed up at a crime scene. I think he came to most of the scenes I worked as
more of a ref than in an official capacity, like he wanted to make sure I was
safe.

He had been a
good friend of my father’s back when they were on the force together. Ever
since my dad passed, Captain Conally had been kinda a father figure to me, like
a big gruff teddy bear. Some of the local cops had problems working with a
witch and he acted as a buffer and a bodyguard. Thank the Goddess, too, because
I really didn’t want to deal with their crap. Some of the guys just gave me the
typical male/female banter and sex shit any woman might deal with in this line
of work. A few cops dealt with some real deep seated issues about witches, not
the guys on the P.I.T Crew—but some of the uniformed officers and regular
Detectives ended up on scene before the P.I.T Crew got called in to take over,
which didn’t always go over very well. Mundane humans didn’t realize something
else went on right under their noses, but they heard enough rumors to tag me as
a witch and that meant they didn’t like me.

Anyway, if I had
to choose between their lusty animosity or the witch hating crap, I much
preferred a little innocent sexual harassment over religious fanatics and
zealous witch haters.

“Well then, any
day now, Annie girl,” Malone said with a slight smirk.

Time for the
part I really hated, touching the dead. I knelt down on the ground and placed
my hand on the pretty dead woman’s arm.

Oh, Goddess. She
still felt warm. Not long ago this woman had been in the prime of her life,
living it up and having fun.

The emotions and
images came rushing at me, so powerful it almost knocked me over, so current,
so here and now. Strong tendrils of magick reached out and wrapped around me,
pulling me straight into the dead girl’s vision.

He led me—no
her, not me—the images blurred. I stopped fighting it and let myself be her.

He led me onto
the dance floor where he seduced me completely. No man ever smelled so good or
moved so erotically before, like being under a spell. I wanted him so bad. When
the song ended I didn’t protest when he led me out the back door and into the
alley.

It took only
seconds for him to have me against the wall, kissing me, caressing me. His
palms slid over me, touching everywhere, and damn could this guy kiss. I had
NEVER been kissed like that before. He ripped my top with a growl and it made
me tingle with desire. He pulled my breast out and cupped it in his large, warm
hand. The cool air teased my nipple to erection before he sucked it between
full, sensuous lips.

He suckled
roughly on my nipple while his hands became busy under my skirt, bunching it up
around my waist. A bit of pressure between my thighs and a slight pain against
my abdomen then I heard fabric tearing. My thong lay on the dirty ground next
to us, my feminine parts bared in the cool night.