Shannon Curtis - Witch Hunter

He trusts no one. She trusts him.

When a name appears on Dave Carter’s skin, he goes hunting. It’s his job to find and kill witches who transgress natural law. He can’t believe that sweet, naive empath Sully Timmerman is the murderer he’s seeking. Is she dangerous, in danger, or both? Dave wants to protect her, but he can’t protect his own heart. And he might not even want to…

SHANNON CURTISgrew up picnicking in graveyards (long story) and reading by torchlight, and has worked in various roles, such as office admin manager, logistics supervisor and betting agent, to mention a few. Her first love—after reading, and her husband—is writing, and she writes romantic suspense, paranormal and contemporary romance. From faeries to cowboys, military men to business tycoons, she loves crafting stories of thrills, chills, kills and kisses. She divides her time between being an office administrator for the Romance Writers of Australia and creating spellbinding tales of mischief, mayhem and the occasional murder. She lives in Sydney, Australia, with her best-friend husband, three children, a woolly dog and a very disdainful cat. Shannon can be found lurking on Twitter, @2bshannoncurtis, and Facebook, or you can email her at contactme@shannoncurtis.com—she loves hearing from readers. Like…LOVES it. Disturbingly so.

Also by Shannon Curtis

Lycan Unleashed

Warrior Untamed

Vampire Undone

Wolf Undaunted

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Witch Hunter

Shannon Curtis

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08217-4

WITCH HUNTER

© 2018 Shannon Curtis

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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This book is dedicated to all the readers who have

supported me by reading this series.

You have no idea how meaningful and humbling your

consideration and time have meant to me.

And thank you to Coleen, for the inspiration that has

become Dave Carter, tattoo artist and witch hunter.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

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

Chapter 24

Extract

About the Publisher

“Why do you have so many tattoos?”

Dave lifted the tip of his needle from his client’s inner wrist and gently dabbed at the skin. The woman was looking up at the ceiling, and she was exhaling slowly through her lips, as though trying not to flinch. Scream. Pee. Puke. Whatever.

“I’m a tattoo artist. Perks of the job.” He eyed the intricate linework he’d inked onto her wrist. He just needed to close the top of the loop of one twist of the knot, and he was finished.

He dabbed at the skin again. He was only doing a simple line tattoo for this woman. It was her first tattoo, and she didn’t think she could stand a lot of shading. He had to agree. The whole time she’d breathed as though she was in a Lamaze class. He was surprised she hadn’t hyperventilated.

“I can’t quite make it out...?” Her tone was raised in query.

He leaned forward, gently pressing his foot on the pedal, and the woman snapped her gaze from the mark on his arm to the ceiling again. The skin on his left breast itched.

Damn.

“I can, and that’s what matters,” he said, smiling at the woman as he carefully pressed the needle against her skin. He focused intently, despite the itch that was getting more annoying—and bound to become more so.

He worked as quickly as he could, his lips tightening as the itch became warm. He didn’t have long.

“Are you sure you can see with those glasses on?” The woman bit her lip as he wiped petroleum jelly across her wrist to hydrate the skin, and then pressed the needle against her, concentrating on drawing out the ink.

“I’m nearly finished and you’re asking me that now?” Dave raised an eyebrow, but didn’t stop his work. The itch began to heat. Sweat broke out on his forehead and upper lip, and he worked faster, gritting his teeth at the burn.

He finished the line perfectly, closing the loop and preventing any breach to the protection spell he’d drawn into her tattoo.

“Right, that’s done,” he rasped, reaching for the antiseptic liquid soap on his table. He washed her skin and gently held her arm so that she could see the intricate linework. It looked like a delicate lace band around her wrist.

“And this will stop him...?” she asked tentatively.

He nodded. “He won’t be able to raise his hand against you.” He worked quickly, placing low adherent bandages over her new tattoo and taping them carefully into place. “Leave those on for about twenty-four hours—or until tomorrow morning at the earliest. It will probably look shiny and gross—don’t worry, that’s normal.” Damn, what had started as an itch now felt like someone was directing a heat lamp on his chest. “Shower and soap it up—antiseptic soap only, nothing scented, and for God’s sake, no scrubs, and don’t scratch it.”