Initiation (Elite Supernatural Trackers Book 1) Read online

  Elite Supernatural Trackers

  Initiation, Book One

  Heather Renee

  Elite Supernatural Trackers: Initiation © Copyright 2019 by Heather Renee

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, alive or dead, is purely coincidental.

  For more information on reproducing sections of this book or sales of this book, email [email protected].

  ISBN: 978-1652074366

  Editing: Jamie from Holmes Edits

  Cover: Covers by Juan

  Dedication

  This one is for me because why the hell not.

  Contents

  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

  Stay in Touch

  Also by Heather Renee

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  If someone had asked me where I thought I’d end up right after graduation, the last thing I would have thought to answer with was “Headed to prison.” Sure, I had grown up living in group homes for the supernatural, been left to fend for myself, and stood my ground against bullies on the streets, but I’d always kept my nose clean from the worst parts of our secret world.

  Yet, there I was, barely eighteen years old, standing in an alleyway outside my favorite coffee shop and facing off with a fairy who wanted to lock me up.

  “You’ve broken Witch Law, and you shall be remanded in Mandora Supernatural Prison until sentencing can commence,” she spat in my face as her silver gossamer wings flapped rapidly.

  I didn’t know much about fairies and their abilities, but I knew they were temperamental beings. Though, considering she’d triggered my fight or flight emotions and she was maybe six inches tall, she didn’t frighten me as much as she probably should.

  I was in shock at the thought I would be arrested, and that wasn’t helping my reactions as I gave her attitude. “Is that so? What law did I supposedly break?”

  I’d just been in the local coffee shop grabbing my morning boost of caffeine. The day had been starting out great until this pixie cornered me in the alleyway. I’d been given free coffee after jokingly demanding it and had the door held open for me, which rarely happened.

  I was most often overlooked. As a five-foot-nothing witch of little power, I didn’t usually have the attention of anyone except little kids who thought I might like to play with them. Annoying, but true. It had bothered me for years growing up, but as time moved on and nothing ever changed, I got used to being an outsider in the supernatural world.

  “You know what you did, Cara Simmons. Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. What’s your choice?”

  Something about the fairy bothered me, and since I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, I had a feeling I was better off trying to get away instead of letting her take me willingly. Even if my magic wasn’t all that strong, seeing as though she had no back-up present, I was pretty certain I could squash her with my left toe, so I took a step to the side. She smirked at me. “I was really hoping you’d choose the hard way.”

  She snapped her fingers, and a dagger appeared in each hand. She began to throw them at me, and I managed to dodge the first two, but when I realized she seemed to have a never-ending supply, I lost my concentration and was hit with several of them.

  “Let’s see how much you can bleed before you pass out,” she sneered while continuing her assault.

  My hand waved, sending out a pathetic amount of magic in a feeble attempt to block her daggers, but she moved in fast, and I was done for.

  Even though the cuts were small, they were bleeding like a sieve and the world was growing darker by the second. When two other guys appeared in the alley, I completely gave up hope and collapsed to the ground but did my best to at least remain conscious.

  One of them caught me before my head smacked into the concrete, then ordered the fairy to close up the cuts.

  “Fine, but now you get to take her to the warden since you ruined my fun.” A pouch no bigger than a quarter appeared in her suddenly dagger-free hands. She reached in and grabbed a handful of dust before blowing it on my body with a gust of wind so powerful I wouldn’t have thought it could come from her tiny frame.

  As a heaviness settled into my body, she grimaced then disappeared. I tried using every counterspell I could think of to prevent myself from passing out, but I seemed to only be prolonging the inevitable.

  A sexy-as-hell dude with mischievous blue eyes kneeled over me on the dirty concrete ground. “Just give in, Siren.”

  My head shook, and a throaty laugh escaped him as someone from further back grunted. “Quit playing with the assignment, Gunner. If the warden wants her, she’s off limits. We have enough to deal with right now.”

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” I tried to say, but any words I’d been able to force through my lips were indiscernible.

  The guy who’d been called Gunner roughly swept his palm over my face, forcing my eyes closed, and there was no more fighting the darkness after that. The last thing I remembered were coarse hands yanking me up and my feet leaving the ground as I wondered what the hell I’d gotten myself into.

  When consciousness returned to me, I was tied to a chair with my hands covered in bags made from some sort of metal mesh that secured around my wrists. Following the contraption, I realized it was clasped to the wooden arms of the seat as well. My legs were free, but still heavy from whatever magic the fairy had flung in my face.

  As my eyes focused on the room, I found myself in a spacious office with a killer view of the snow-covered mountains and clear blue skies. The walls were filled with photos of people I didn’t recognize and awards that meant nothing to me.

  Before I could lean closer to the papers on the desk in front of me, the door creaked open and a voice bellowed from behind me.

  “Cara Simmons, inmate number 46764. Charged with misuse of witch magic in a public setting on not one, but four occasions. Tsk, tsk, young witchling. That’s just unacceptable. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  An older gentleman came into view with a tablet in front of him. He took a seat behind the desk and straightened his suit coat before smiling at me. His slick brown hair was streaking through with grey, along with the hideous goatee he was sporting. The wrinkles around his green eyes told me he was far older than he appeared.

  Supernaturals didn’t even get worry lines until they hit triple digits in age, and this dude had more than a few to go around. Not only was he likely super old, but probably ridiculously powerful if he was who I thought.

  Even though I was secretly ridiculously afraid of this man, I had been through hell in my short life. The one thing I’d
learned that stuck with me the most was that I needed to act like I was in complete control and not the weakest one in the room. Otherwise, I’d probably been in deeper shit than I already was.

  “Warden, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say it really doesn’t matter what I say, but I guess I’ll entertain you, nonetheless. I have no recollection of unlawfully using magic. I don’t even belong to a coven at the moment, so I have very little magic to draw from. As your fancy stalking tablet probably tells you, I was orphaned when my parents died about ten years ago, I graduated from primary school, and none of the witches would call me their own. So, how about you tell me when these four occasions occurred?”

  He smirked. “You have fire, Cara. I’m not sure I’m fond of it, but regardless, having a backbone will serve you well in Mandora if you hope to survive amongst the other criminals.”

  It took every ounce of strength within me not to roll my eyes. Another typical male who assumed I was helpless just because I was short, lacked a plethora of magic, and had no family.

  Okay, none of those things screamed “Beware of the witch!”, but I wasn’t entirely useless. I had incredible luck as well, at least since I graduated the god-awful high school I’d been forced to attend in order to leave the group home when I turned eighteen and received my inheritance.

  I’d been so sure I’d finally had luck on my side, and I wasn’t going to give up hope just because I was in a bit of trouble. While landing myself in prison didn’t seem like good fortune, I wasn’t going to let it get me down. Or, so I kept telling myself even though I was freaking the hell out on the inside.

  “Do I get the privilege of knowing what I supposedly did that was against the law with my witch magic?” I asked.

  He set his tablet down and shook his head. “You took longer to wake up than I hoped, so maybe another day. I have business to attend to now, but I wanted to formally introduce myself to you.” He stood, and the smile he gave me was soon replaced with a sneer. “My name is Warden Gillian. I’ve yet to have a prisoner escape these walls, and you will not be the first. So, don’t get any ideas. Follow the rules and maybe you’ll survive longer than the first week. I’ll find time to meet with you soon, and we can discuss your role here in Mandora.”

  Dude had some serious personality issues and some stank breath. It took every ounce of control within me to stop my mouth from asking him if he had a mint.

  He leaned in closer, but I didn’t budge as I held my own breath to avoid his stench. He was trying to scare me, and it wasn’t going to work, at least not that he would know. I’d risen from the ashes before and I’d figure things out soon enough, so I could get the hell out of prison the right way. Threats of what would happen if I tried to escape were meaningless to me, because I wasn’t guilty.

  “Do I make myself clear, Witch?”

  “Crystal, Warden.”

  He nodded curtly before stomping toward the door. I heard the creak of hinges once again, but he stopped moving. His breathing was loud, and I felt his eyes boring into the back of my head. “Guards, finish processing the witch and take her to cell block B.”

  “Block B? Are you sure, Warden?” a man questioned.

  A low rumble was heard, followed by a yelp before the warden spoke again. “If you value your life, I’d ask less questions the next time I require your presence.”

  Footsteps thudded along the floor before two more sets came into the office. My shoulders squared, and I removed all emotion from my face. Until I figured out a way to prove whatever charges they thought they had against me were false, I wasn’t going to let anyone see me weak.

  “Inmate 46764 release,” a dude that reminded me of Shrek due to his girth and height said. The shackles around my wrists disappeared, but the mesh bags around my hands did not.

  “Are these coming off as well?” I asked as another Shrek came into view.

  Shrek One grunted. “Not until you’re in the cell area. Magic is restricted for all inmates.”

  Great, not only would I be the low woman on the totem pole, but what little magic I did have wouldn’t even be there to protect me. The lucky streak I’d been thinking about earlier was becoming a thing of the past, because this entire situation seemed like some extremely crap luck.

  I’d been scrappy enough to get by after I was orphaned and placed in a group home for the supernatural youth, but I wasn’t sure those particular skills were going to be enough in a place like Mandora. I’d have to find the biggest chick in the cell block and make her my best friend.

  Each guard grabbed one of my arms, yanking me up and over the chair so fast that it toppled onto the floor. Shrek One and Two continued into the hall while I was still being held facing the warden’s office. Glancing around as much as I could to try to get the layout of where I was, I realized there wasn’t much to see.

  The walls had no windows or pictures and were made up of grey cinder blocks, making me feel a bit like a caged animal. About fifty or so feet down the hall, words were spray-painted in black on the wall with arrows that gave directions to cell blocks A, B, and C. We turned right and headed for B just like the warden had commanded.

  My mind idly wondered what was in B that had made one of the Shreks question Warden Gillian. Was I being placed with the worst of the worst?

  Did the warden want me to die? Possibly.

  I’d heard enough stories about Mandora to know I would have to watch my back and make friends fast. Those few stories about the prison weren’t from past inmates, either. Most of them were from their family members left behind.

  Considering my upbringing as an orphan, I wasn’t the most knowledgeable supernatural, but I knew enough to get me by in the quiet life I had been slowly building for myself. Witches were what I understood the best, but when it came to the other races, I was slim on facts. Hopefully, that wasn’t about to bite me in the ass.

  With a couple of clicks and then a beep, I heard the grinding noise of a gate opening. Once the metal clanged against the concrete wall, the guards continued to move, and I got a front row seat of the entrance slamming shut behind me.

  If I’d had any thought of escaping, it went out the window as the gate locked into place. There would be no leaving this place until I could get Warden Gillian to tell me what exactly I was being accused of and hopefully be given the chance to prove him wrong.

  Suddenly, the air was ripped from my chest as I was tossed into the corner of a room, followed by clothes being thrown at my head.

  “Strip, dress, and make it fast,” Shrek One demanded.

  Scrambling to my feet, I held my head high, pretending the wall hadn’t bruised half my body when I’d been slammed against it. “Uh, I’m not sure if you need glasses or not, but I can’t exactly remove my clothes with these on.” My arms lifted to remind the two idiots my hands were still covered in the mesh magic-stopper bags. They probably had an official name, but I wasn’t about to ask what that was.

  Shrek One moved in closer and raised his hand to strike me, but Shrek Two stopped him. “Remember what we need to do, Brent.”

  Shrek One, also known as Brent, threw his hands in the air. “You take care of her, then. I don’t have time for this shit.” He gave me an “accidental” shove on his way back out of the room, and I was once again on my ass.

  When I was alone with Shrek Two, who hadn’t said a word before he stopped me from getting my first beating inside the prison, I wondered if he would maybe be my friend. Though, I didn’t have to think on it too long before I got my answer.

  He bent over and gripped the back of my neck, taking a fistful of my hair with him as he stood me up. “Hands out, Inmate 46764.”

  My arms shot out like rockets as I fought back tears from the pain in the back of my head. I was acting as tough as I could, but damn, my head couldn’t take much more.

  Thankfully, he had to release his hold in order to get the mesh bags off my hands, and I took a step to the side before he thought about grabbing on again. I wasn’t a dam
n horse with hair for reins.

  “There. Now, do as Brent said, and then it’s time for you to meet your cellmate.” He took three steps back and stared.

  “Do I get a minute of privacy to change?” I spat, still angry he’d taken a chunk of my hair out that now lay on the floor.

  “No, and unless you’d like a real audience, I suggest you do as your told right now.”

  Yep. Shrek Two was definitely not going to be my friend.

  I untangled the clothes from the ground that had been thrown at me and sorted them out before I decided to remove my own. There was an awful yellow jumpsuit that was going to be way too long for me, a pair of granny panties, and some slip-on flats.

  That was it. No bra. No socks. Just two items of hideous clothing and the thinnest shoes I’d ever seen.

  My poor girls weren’t going to be happy about having no support, but hopefully I’d make friends who’d give me some pointers on how to make the best of the crappy attire. Women were resourceful like that.

  Removing my pants and lace underwear first, I slipped into the granny panties and bottom half of the jumpsuit before I undressed my top half. Shrek Two was still staring at me, so I glared at him and turned toward the wall. Though, that didn’t help much because there was a mirror reflecting my image back to the guard, but it didn’t show all of me, so it was better than nothing.

  My normally smooth creamy skin was marred from being thrown around, and my hazel eyes had dark circles beneath them. My thick golden hair was matted in places I’d likely have to spend hours trying to unknot.