Bait N' Witch (Brimstone Inc. #3) - Abigail Owen

Chapter One

Rowan pulled her borrowed truck up the gravel drive and parked in front of a rustic mountain cabin.

She frowned. This couldn’t be right, could it?

It took a second to realize she’d lifted her foot off the brake, the truck rolling forward like it, too, wanted to escape from here.

She put it in park and again checked the directions she’d been provided. It’d been a long time since she’d had to follow directions to travel anywhere. Too bad she couldn’t use her teleporting skills like usual. But witches who had to get jobs as nannies weren’t supposed to possess that kind of power. If she was going to pull this off, she had to pretend she had minimal magical abilities and not show her true capabilities.

The paper in her hand matched the address on the quaint mailbox. Damn. She was at the right place.

“Fantastic,” she muttered.

The two-story cabin—a lovely and obviously old log structure built into the gentle bottom slope of a mountain—was tucked away in the wilderness of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado, among copses of aspens and pines. Not another dwelling for miles, which meant she was well and truly screwed if this plan went sideways.

The back of Rowan’s neck prickled like there was a spider crawling along her skin. She went to brush it away, then stopped herself mid-swipe and jerked her hand back with an irritated huff. That prickly feeling had been her constant companion for the last year. The one that said she was being watched, even when she knew she wasn’t. Ever since she’d been taken by that werewolf. Only she wasn’t with him anymore, nor with the people who’d helped him. He was dead, and his people were, too.

No. This had to be more about the man inside the house…

“Suck it up and get moving,” she instructed herself.

How had circumstance brought her to this point? The fates must really have it in for her.

Tally up the sum total of what brought her to this moment: Parents killed in a mysterious accident. Her adopted mother, Tanya, a demon masquerading as a witch, being murdered by Kaios, a pathologically insane werewolf. Kaios who had then taken Rowan prisoner for her unique powers and used her against her will for his own ends.

At least that asshat was dead now.

Still…too many dings against her. The Covens Syndicate—the body of witches and warlocks who monitored, policed, protected, and ruled the established covens throughout the world—were sure to issue a death sentence once they finally found her. Hell, the other warlock Kaios had forced to do his bidding had been executed summarily without trial, and he’d only had the “controlled by a werewolf” thing against him.

The Syndicate tended to execute first, ask questions later.

When it came to Rowan’s parents’ deaths, Tanya had always wondered who was to blame…

Stick to the plan.

The immensely dangerous, undeniably brilliant plan, courtesy of Delilah at Brimstone, Inc. The woman had rescued her, hidden her, and now sent Rowan off to save her own life. Assuming this worked.

Delilah.

No last name. Not a witch. In fact, Rowan wasn’t sure what Delilah was, though something about her felt…familiar. Regardless, she was obviously powerful. The woman practically crackled from within when she walked into a room. Tons of connections with all things paranormal.

Even with that, when Rowan added it all up, she had basically hopped from one bad situation to another.

And now, here I am, about to pose as a nanny for the witch hunter the Syndicate set on me.

That was Delilah’s plan—hide Rowan in plain sight, right under the hunter’s nose, close enough to cause problems with the investigation, making it impossible for the Covens Syndicate to track her down.

Now that she was here, she was starting to have an eleventh round of second thoughts.

With a trepidation worthy of Daniel when he entered the lions’ den, she got out of her truck and approached the perfectly normal-looking front door. Of course, by entering this household, the lions’ den was exactly where she’d be. She literally faced the jaws of death, which could snap shut at any second.

Where’s my whip when I need it?

She raised a shaking hand to the door and glared at the offending appendage, annoyed at her inability to control the tremor. A shrill scream pierced the air, and Rowan froze mid-knock.

“What in the name of the mother?” Instinct had her reaching for the doorknob.

Locked.

A quick incantation sprang to her lips, but, before she could utter it, the door unlocked on its own and swung smoothly