Free Witch Hunt, A Paranormal/Urban Fantasy (The Maurin Kincaide Series) by Rachel Rawlings

clothing allowance if this kept up. I found a grocery store bag balled up on the floor. If there were no holes in the bag, then it just might do the trick.
    I walked back outside and started stri pping down. I threw my hoodie and shirt in the bag. Rags or not, I’d be happy to have those when I got out of the ocean. I kicked off my docs and slid out of my jeans and put them in the bag. I stood there shivering in my socks and flannel bra and panties. I needed a second to psych myself up to take the socks off. I had bent over to take them off when I heard something. I clenched my teeth together to slow the chattering so that I could hear better. There it was again. My heart was pumping so fast; my adrenaline alone could take the edge off of this brisk air. I didn’t move; there was nowhere to take cover out here anyway. Maybe it was just a bird or something on the rocks. Even in the dark, it was pretty obvious that animals used Winter Island more than people did at this time of year. Then I heard the distinctive sound of a boot crunching on the pebbly shore. That was no bird. I slowly stood without making a sound. I could only assume at this point that the person who was approaching the lighthouse was not a friendly.
    “I’d say that I was getting tired of saving your ass if I didn’t like looking at it so much. Is that flannel?” A voice I knew but couldn’t immediately place called out.
    I turned around to face my rescuer. I was shocked by the face that I saw staring back at me.
    “I’d say ‘thank you’ if I could get past the nauseous feeling that I get every time I see you,” I said.
    “Aww, come on, Maurin, is that anyway to greet an old friend?” he chided.
    “You must not have a lot of friends. How the hell did you know where to find me anyway?” I really wanted to know the answer to that question. Despite our history, or maybe because of it, I wasn’t entirely sure that I could trust him.
    “Seriously, you look like shit. Where’s your friend, the Norm? What the hell are you doing out here in your underwear anyway? Holy shit, were you going to swim?” He almost laughed.
    “Fuck you, Cash.” It was the only thing that I could come up with. “Matthison’s in the old hangar. He needs to get off this island and get to a hospital stat. The only way that I could see that happening was if I somehow got to that boat out there,” I said, shivering. Despite all of my new abilities, I was not impervious to the cold.
    “Get dressed. You standing there practically naked and shivering is a little distracting.” He was already headed for the lighthouse.
    I threw everything back on as quickly as I could. I wasn’t too comfortable with the idea of Cash being alone with Matthison. The fact that I didn’t see anyone from the Council, or anyone else for that matter, had me on edge. He ignored my question about how he had found me and I wasn’t putting anything past Cash. He was a mercenary, a hired gun. It wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility for Cash to be working with The Inquisitors. He had a lot to gain if the Council was under threat and Roul was distracted by their challenge. I was on edge as I walked in to the hangar. Cash was already bent over Matthison, talking to someone while he looked him over. The conversation was short; he clicked a little button on his earpiece, ending the call.
    “My guys are moving in. It looks like most of the damage is internal. It doesn’t look good, but we’ll get him out of here. Is that what’s left of the guy that did this?” he asked, looking over at the Butcher lying dead on the floor.
    “Yeah. The two who were giving orders got away. He was just the muscle. You didn’t answer my question, by the way. How did you, of all people, know where to look for me?” I asked.
    “You’re just lucky, I guess. I was meeting with Roul to finalize the rules and terms of the challenge when Mahalia came by. She wanted a tracker, which seemed like an odd request for