Hell's Gates (Urban Fantasy) Read Online Free PDF Page A

as my young and mourned for his illness. For the first time since we’d lost our mate, the beast wasn’t pining which… was kinda nice.
    I darted through the forest, ignoring the sounds of scattering animals and the crunch of dried leaves beneath my paws. I didn’t slow as I approached the road that bordered Momma R’s land, darting across the asphalt and into the woods on the other side.
    I cut through side streets and down sidewalks, ignoring the humans I passed and the surprised shouts I left in my wake. My jet black fur melded with the shadows and darkness, and I was nothing more than a blur to the tweens I came across. The humans thought I was a dog, but the tweeners knew. They could sense my werewolf tendencies and the other parts of me that made me Caith Morningstar.
    They knew and kept their distance. Fear was a very powerful motivator when it came to controlling the town, and they feared me. I could send them down to Uncle Luc, or worse, banish them entirely.
    Which meant they knew better than to tell me no or deny any request I made. I wasn’t a total maniacal dictator. It wasn’t like my requests were odd or over the top… generally.
    I didn’t think waking the witch who owned my fave magic shop in the middle of the night as over the top. And it was only my opinion that mattered.
    I shifted back to two legs, the wolf quickly retreating since it knew exactly why we’d come to Crazy Cauldron. It’s the famous mouse’s hometown. It had to have a catchy name. One knock turned into two and then turned into a dozen before the owner finally answered the door.
    Agatha took one sleepy look at me and then tugged the door open, muttering. “Jesus, Caith, do you know what time it is?”
    I shuddered. “Yeah, no relation.” Though On High had tried to setup a little field trip for me once. That hadn’t gone over well. “And I need help. Bryony is sick.”
    I explained everything as best I could. The fever, my son’s little jolt of hellfire and brownie origins. Anything that might be important.
    The witch nodded, not looking surprised in the least. “If you had Sorsha treat him and he’s with Jezebeth and Helene, he’s getting the best care. I can see what I’ve got left that might help.” She frowned. “But there’s been a run on healing charms these past few weeks. Same sort of symptoms.”
    That had me pausing. “You’ve had other customers who were sick? Like Bry?” I mean, I’d heard the elf’s words, but I guess I hadn’t heard them. Did he catch something from another tween? But there hadn’t been anyone new around him and—
    “There are always people getting sick just like there are always humans buying the crap on my shelves.” Agatha waved at the retail area. A lot of what she stocked was for the humans who fancied themselves witches, looking for the magical bullet to make their lives better.
    She kept digging through her drawers, tugging out a few charms, blessed candles and incense, a mummified dove, and a bottle of cough syrup. “There’s been an upsurge lately, but I haven’t heard anything about a cure or treatment.” Agatha shrugged. “I don’t usually though. I only get visits when they need help, not after whatever’s wrong has been fixed.” The witch slid the final drawer shut. “If I get any rumblings though, I’ll let you know.”
    My wolf growled, the sound vibrating my bones and making my entire body subtly tremble. The back of my neck itched and I recognized the feeling for what it was. There was something going on in my town. Something different. Not a sorceress playing with zombies or a sorcerer wanting to open up the mouth of hell beneath that singing boat ride in the local amusement park. Which, FYI, the world might be small, but hell wasn’t.
    “Thanks.” Ugh, I thanked someone. “Send the bill to the bar. Berg will take care of it.”
    I strode from the shop, listening for the click of locks and the feel of the witch’s wards sliding back into place.