Chapter 1

"We've gota thirteen thirty-one on Maple Street." CA code for cryptid causing trouble.

The call came in mid-shift, interrupting my reading time. Don't judge. While at times my job as a Cryptid Agent—AKA police for supernatural folk—could be busy, most of the time the highlight of the day involved herding fairies out of the flower shop or reminding gnomes they couldn't get naked and bathe in sprinklers on people's front yards. I especially hated it when I showed up and they'd gone from naked soaping to fucking in the middle of the grass. Some things couldn't be unseen.

"Anyone close by?" dispatch asked.

Since I happened to be literally a block away, I buzzed in. "This is Agent Smith. I'm in the area and will check it out."

"I'll see who's close by for backup," Horace stated, the guy running dispatch since Evangeline went on maternity.

"Don't bother. I'm good. If it's too much to handle, I'll give you a shout." Unlike other agents who patrolled, I currently worked alone. I'd not yet been assigned a new partner since the shakeup at my office.

In the last few months, a ton of people had been fired and, in some cases, even charged. My old boss had been the worst. Turned out she'd been colluding with an evil witch and abetted in innocents getting slaughtered. The witch had since been killed, and as for my boss? She now sat in a cell waiting for trial. Karma in action.

Other agents got swept up on charges of dereliction of duty because they knew what happened and didn't report or stop it. A few, like Ralph—the asshole I'd been reluctantly paired with—were discovered to have been taking bribes to look the other way from cryptids behaving badly. I couldn't say I was sad to see the lazy fucker go. Ralph should have never been given a badge.

Given the shakeup left our CA office short-staffed, and given I was a senior staffer with actual magic, they'd opted to let me work alone for the moment—until some new agents could be transferred or recruited. I hoped that took a long time. I quite enjoyed working solo. My car stayed clean—no more fast-food wrappers all over the place or the smell of the burps that came after. No dealing with assholes who treated me like I couldn't hold my own because I didn't have a sausage between my legs. A witch didn't need a man with a gun to protect her. I'd zap any threats myself, thank you very much.

According to the address, the location hosted a storage unit place. I parked outside the closed gate by the main office. As I stepped out, I didn't sense anything untoward. Sometimes the stench of a crime in progress hit you with eye-watering results, like that time I checked out a ghoul preying on graveyards. No mistaking the putrid decay in that case.

A woman, her hair bleached to the point I'd think twice about even brushing it, emerged from the square building. Her wild eyes went well with her harried expression. "We're closed," she barked.

I flashed my badge. "I'm Agent Marissa Smith from the Cryptid Authority. We got a call about a disturbance."

"Thank the baby Jesus you're here. You have to do something about the monster."

Humans had a thing for calling anything that didn't look like them monsters. Most of the time, the cryptids in question were benign. The dangerous ones weren't allowed into populated areas.

"What can you tell me about the intruder? Do you know where it came from? Are you sure it's still on the premises?"

"It was inside one of the storage units. I only found it by accident when I opened it to see what I could auction off for nonpayment."

Sounded like it might be a case of an illegal cryptid pet. It happened. People bought them on the black market and either kept them as status symbols or used them in fights—or for rare ingredients.

"Did you recognize the type of creature?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No idea what it is, but it sure is ugly. Reminds me of my great-grandpa when he was on his death bed with the big C. Gaunt body but giant head!" She held out her hands in what surely had to be an exaggeration.

"You say it was inside one of the storage units?"

At my query, she nodded. "Unit 5C. One of our longest-running clients. Always paid on time until about six months ago."

Six months… Hunh. That was when all the shit with the witch and the corruption at my office went down.

"Is the creature still inside the unit?"

"I don't know. Once I saw it, I took off running. Thought my heart was going to burst." She put a hand to her chest.

"You have cameras?" I queried, seeing one aimed at the entrance.

"Yes, but they're not working. I keep meaning to get them fixed."

Shame. It might have given me an idea of what I dealt with.

I walked to the gate and eyed it. Easy to climb even with the barbed wire sprouting from the top. There was a good chance the intruder hadn't remained confined.

I glanced at the owner over my shoulder. "You said it reminded you of your great-grandpa. So, humanoid in shape?"

Her head bobbed. "Yes. It looked like an old crotchety man with a gigantic head. And when it hissed at me, it had sharp teeth."

Add in the fact she'd found it inside a storage unit and I had a feeling I knew what we dealt with. A Spriggan, known for their obsessiveness in guarding what they considered treasures. Not common for this side of the ocean, given they were of Cornish origin. Most likely illegally imported. They tended to be cheaper to feed than paying for actual security.

"I'll need to get inside." I inclined my head at the gate.

"Alone?" She eyed me and pursed her lips. Even with my own sex, I got disrespected.

"This is what I do, ma'am." I refrained from rolling my eyes.

"Okay, but if anyone asks, I'm gonna swear on a stack of Bibles that you're doing it willingly. I ain't getting sued or arrested because you think you're some kind of super woman."

Did I really look that inept?

I blamed the hair. Bright pink and determined to remain that shade no matter how many attempts I made to bleach or dye it.

"You won't be blamed if I get hurt," I sighed. "Now would you please open the gate?"

"Whatever. Your funeral," she muttered as she went back into the building. A moment later, the gate clanked as it rolled open, revealing asphalt that branched between the long single-story buildings with roll-up doors. The siding, a bright yellow, contrasted with the blue of the various units. I saw no sign of anything untoward. Could be the cryptid remained inside the unit it guarded.

As I took a step into the enclosed area, the woman emerged. "Aren't you going to put on a vest or grab a gun?"

"I've got something better than that." I lifted my hand, and magic shimmered into place around me, forming a shield more durable than any Kevlar.

"Feckin' witch," muttered the woman.

A rather rude thing to say given I'd come to help her out, but I was used to humans denigrating those of us with power. It had to be hard knowing they would never be blessed with magic and the potential for greatness. A bitchy thing to think, perhaps, but having grown up being bullied for being different, I no longer gave a fuck.

I'd barely gone three paces when the gate rattled along its track, shutting me in. Some might have been pissed the owner left me with no quick exit. Me, though, I thought it smart. I'd hate for the cryptid to slip out and make my job harder.

Given I had no idea of the layout, I walked straight, head tilted, every single one of my senses scanning. I heard nothing. Saw nada. Smelled zilch. Not even a tingle of magic whispered past me.

The units had letters and numbers on the outside of them, which led to me trying to remember the unit the woman had mentioned, which I'd already forgotten. I could have returned to ask her, but she already thought me incompetent and I had no intention of reinforcing her shitty opinion. Besides, the place wasn't that big. Surely I'd run into the cryptid at one point.

I kept walking and murmured, "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

At a cross-section, I glanced left, just in time to catch the blur that dove at me. As my body moved to avoid, I took in details of my attacker. Slight figure, body wrinkled and grayish in tone, head massive and sprinkled with greasy strands of hair. Spriggan confirmed.

Now it should be noted, as a CA agent I swore to try and do no deadly harm. We weren't in the business of killing cryptids but rather had a mandate to capture. All that to explain why I didn't blast the Spriggan into tiny meat chunks despite the fact it would have taken a bite out of me.

Instead, I sidestepped its attack and, as it rushed past, cast out my hand to wrap the creature in a magical fist that it couldn't escape. Once the Spriggan realized it had been caught, it screeched and flailed, its head and lower part of its legs the only things able to move.

"No. No. No," it shrieked.

"Behave," I chided. Spriggans had rudimentary speech comprehension. Usually. This one didn't appear to be listening, given it kept struggling. "Calm your ass down. I'm not here to harm you. I'm Agent Smith with the Cryptid Authority."

It hissed, "Release us."

"No can do. You don't belong this side of the big pond. You are under arrest for being here illegally." The fact the Spriggan most likely had been smuggled in didn't matter. Certain species were prohibited from relocation, especially the harmful varieties.

"No go," it stubbornly insisted.

"Be pissed all you want. It doesn't change the facts. You are going to come with me to the CA precinct. In good news, once we've figured out where you were snatched from, you might be returned so long as you haven't committed any violent crimes." Because if it had, then it would be headed to a super-prison instead. We had them scattered around the globe. Maximum-security buildings, often partially buried underground or in mountains, with insanely complex magical safeguards in order to prevent the escape of those deemed too dangerous for society.

The Spriggan paused its thrashing for a moment and stared at me. Its mouth opened wide in a grin as it murmured, "Yummy pink candy."

Gross. But not as gross as its hard-on.

"Ew. Put that thing away."

"I gets to go first!" it crowed.

Odd thing to say until I realized there were two of them!

As the second Spriggan slammed into me from behind, I couldn't keep my balance and found myself pitching face-first. My shield kept me from getting a face full of asphalt; it also kept the claws at bay. I pushed more magic into it, heating my defense enough the Spriggan attempting to eviscerate me yelped and sprang away. However, my beefed-up shield and attack caused me to lose my hold on the first Spriggan.

Quickly, I shoved to my feet, annoyed at having been caught by surprise.

"Gonna adds you to our collection," hissed the first creature, who didn't run once released from my magical grip.

"I says we eats her," lisped the second.

And then a third I never noticed just had to chime in. "Breed her."

Oh hell to the no. Outnumbered, and with no time to call for help, I prayed to my goddess, even as I knew she might not answer.

Hekate wasn't like some of the other deities who reveled in being worshipped. She tended more to the aloof side and encouraged independence from her followers, which might explain why she had only a few.

To my surprise, she answered my call, not with words or encouragement though. My magical reservoir suddenly filled, the power tingling me head to toe, so much I almost burst with it.

"Oh, hell yeah," I murmured. "Let's go, you fuckers."

As the trio of Spriggans suddenly barreled for me, thinking they could crush me by working in tandem, I took the magic brimming within and expelled it, forcing it outward in a wave that didn't just knock my assailants flat; it dented the storage units on either side.

Damn. My goddess truly had come through for me.

When the concussion of the magic wave faded, I swiftly moved to secure the cryptids before they could rouse from their daze. I bound their hands with strips of iron, rendering each Spriggan defenseless. Only then did I use my phone to call in.

"Gonna need the van for pickup," I declared, feeling rather proud of myself.

"On its way," Horace stated in reply.

While I waited for the paddy wagon to arrive, I sauntered past the damage, looking for the original unit that held the Spriggans. It proved easy to find. For one, it remained open. Two, it stank. And three, it held a litter of ugly little Spriggans that appeared to be feeding off the corpse of a woman with her stomach ripped open. Yikes. Looked like they'd been discovered just in time. The damage this many Spriggans might have caused if they got loose would have caused some serious PR nightmares with our CA office.

The hissing younglings were easily corralled, their tiny bodies too undeveloped yet to do more than express their displeasure.

With that finished, I peeked inside the unit, wondering who in their right mind paid to house these creatures. To my surprise, while the front of the unit might be a mess, the back of it appeared untouched. A harder glance with my othersight—what I called looking past the real world to that of the esoteric—showed a shimmer of power. A curtain of magic protected stacks of boxes. Boxes I recognized, of sorts. The CA logo was stamped across them, and I had to wonder at their content. Confiscated goods stolen from our office? Personal files? Or junk that simply happened to be stored in some branded boxes?

Before I could find out, a commotion in the form of voices and gates rattling open indicated reinforcements had arrived.

I exited the storage unit to see Pablo and Felicia approaching, the former being honest enough to not be involved in the previous rot in our office and the latter a new hire. They were accompanied by the storage complex owner, who had her lips pursed in a mighty scowl.

"Your Spriggan problem has been neutralized," I informed her as she got within talking distance.

"You destroyed my place!" she shrieked. "I am going to sue."

Actually, she couldn't, as the CA had a government sanction to use whatever force necessary to subdue misbehaving cryptids.

"Insurance should cover the damage," I advised.

"If I had any!"

"In that case, go after the person who illegally stored the Spriggans on your property." I tried to give her options, but she shot that one down as well.

"Hard to get money out of a dead-beat client," the woman grumbled, crossing her arms.

"I'm sure there's something that can be done." Pablo tried to soothe the irate owner and led her away.

Meanwhile, Felicia snorted. "Some people just don't know how to say thank you."

"No shit." I'd risked my life to help and all I got was grief—and not just from the owner of the storage units.

My new boss, a stern and grizzled former military advisor, Abe Kowalski, called me into his office and gave me a stern look as he said, "You took a big risk going in by yourself once you realized the dangerous situation."

"A danger I handled," I pointed out.

"Only because you got lucky," he barked. "And that's not acceptable. Protocol states, in the case of aggressive cryptids, an agent is to wait for backup unless there is imminent danger to themselves or civilians."

"I didn't know there was three of them."

"But you did suspect a Spriggan, correct?" At my nod, he continued to berate. "This office has been through too much shit lately for me to have to deal with the paperwork of an agent who thinks she's above the rules. I'm putting you on desk duty until we can find you a partner who will temper your vigilante ways."

"You're benching me? But I'm one of the best you have." I couldn't hide my shock.

"Exactly and we could have lost you today because you were cocky." Kowalski's lips turned down. "Trust me, I don't like doing this, but you've left me no choice."

He had a choice. He could let me do my job.

Instead, I got relegated to the basement.