The Hex Files Box Set: Books 1-3 (Mysteries from the Sixth Borough) Read online

  Wicked Never Sleeps

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  THE HEX FILES BOX SET

  First edition. April 15, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 Gina LaManna.

  Written by Gina LaManna.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  The Hex Files Box Set (Mysteries from the Sixth Borough)

  Synopsis

  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

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Wicked Long Nights

  Prologue

  Synopsis

  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

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Wicked State of Mind

  Synopsis

  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

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Women’s Fiction:

  Mystery and Suspense:

  To my husband and Little LaManna :)

  Special Thanks:

  To Alex—Home is where the heart is. я тебя люблю!

  To my family—and especially my mom who pokes me for her ‘complimentary copy’ of every book I publish, and to my extremely supportive dad.

  To Stacia—My most favorite editor and friend. Thanks for everything you do.

  To those LaManna’s Ladies posting unicorns memes and sparkling cars and fancy cakes, thanks for making me smile every day!

  Synopsis

  Welcome to Wicked.

  Wicked—the paranormal sixth borough of New York—is home to witches and goblins, werewolves and necromancers, elves and vampires...and former Detective Dani DeMarco. Dani’s busy with the grand opening of her family’s pizza parlor, when a knock on the door leaves her face to face with the stunning, yet lethal vampire in charge of the NYPD's supernatural branch—Captain Matthew King.

  There’s been a high profile double homicide in the Sixth Borough, and Dani’s peculiar talent is the only hope to untangle the web of lies and magic connecting the dead victims. As the case spirals into a pulse-pounding chase, Dani’s not sure what’s worse: the fact that a ruthless killer has his sights set on her, or that her feelings for New York’s most infamous vampire have returned...

  All is fair in love and war, but passion is downright Wicked...

  Chapter 1

  “Are you sure it was a good idea to invite the trolls?” My mother wrinkled her nose as she scanned the vibrant party. “And really, Dani, the gnomes? They could have at least showered before coming to a cross-species event.”

  “Mother, give it a rest. DeMarco’s Pizza doesn’t discriminate.” I pointed to a sign that clearly stated so behind the counter. “Everyone’s just here for the food.”

  I topped off my mother’s wine glass. She worriedly glanced over my shoulder but was wise enough to keep her comments quiet. Instead, she moved swiftly across the room to join my father and one of my brothers in conversation with Marv, an elf with a heavy lisp and a penchant for pickpocketing. I’d arrested him twice before, but after he’d learned his lesson and turned mostly legal, we’d become allies, if not quite friends.

  Let me back up for a minute to explain. I’m Dani DeMarco, and I’ve been in the pizza business for all of five minutes. I hadn’t always been passionate about pepperoni and parmesan, nor had I grown up debating the financial pros and cons of serving deep dish versus thin crust, but times changed.

  I used to be the paranormal version of a cop. More specifically, I was a Reserve for the Sixth Precinct—a special branch of the NYPD—and I’d been great at my job. The chief had recruited me the day I turned eighteen due to my ‘special talents’. Reserves could see things other officers couldn’t. Magical things.

  My special talents helped me to become the youngest detective on the force, male or female, by my twenty-first birthday. Because I was the only Reserve for the NYPD, I worked across all units of the Investigative Division. Usually, I focused on the big cases, splashy, public homicides and tricky kidnappings, but every now and again there’d be a narcotics bust or the odd theft.

  The force had gotten seven good years out of me. I had always loved my job—thrived on it, my mother might say—and I might still be thriving if I hadn’t stumbled onto a case that very nearly killed me. More on that later.

  That’s why I’m semi-retired from law enforcement at the ripe old age of twenty-eight. With time on my hands and skills useless outside the realm of police work, I decided on a complete career re-vamp. I dug deep into Carl’s cushions (my enchanted couch is named Carl) and took out a big fat loan from a goblin with questionable morals to cover the rest. Voila—eight months into retirement, I had a pizza business ready to open.

  Tonight’s the grand opening, and I have to say I’m impressed with the turnout. All I wanted was a quiet gathering, a slew of good food, and a burst of publicity to kick off the hottest new pizza parlor in Wicked. We’d achieved that in a big way.

  “Dani...” My mother sidled over again. “A word?”

  “Yes, mother.”

  My mom (though I love her dearly) is one of those helicopter mothers—the type that hovers just a little too close for my liking. It doesn’t matter that I’m a decorated cop, an independent witch, or a small business owner. I am still her only daughter in a sea of sons.

  “I know we discussed this when you signed your lease, but don’t you think this building is a little close to the Dead Lands? I was just talking with Marv, and he said the feud between the elves and the necromancers is really he
ating up. I don’t know that this is the safest space for you, and—”

  “Mom! This is my grand opening. Can you please just enjoy it like the rest of us?” I gestured to my little space, feeling proud of the happy group of customers swaying to light music in the background. “Jack’s going to be here all the time. He was the first to sign up for the DeMarco Diet coupons—buy six pizzas get the seventh free.”

  My mother pursed her lips. The youngest of my four brothers ate food like it was going out of style, and without a doubt, he’d be hanging around the shop as much as his wallet allowed. Plus, I’d hired him on as part-time help. That small reminder was a win in my mother’s book.

  “And when Jack’s not here, I can take care of myself.” I leaned in conspiratorially and grinned, making my mother jump with surprise. “I might have retired, but who says I’m not still armed? I have a permit to carry.”

  “Danielle Marie DeMarco!” My mother rested a hand over her heart. “I wish you’d stop carrying around weapons. You are already... different enough. Stop making it hard for men to approach you.”

  “Right. Like it’s my gun keeping people away.” I snorted, and a random spellslinger to my left took a step back, looking alarmed. He really wasn’t helping my case, and I felt snarly as I glanced at him. “What are you looking at?”

  “That’s exactly the attitude I’m talking about, Danielle,” my mother said. “I know you grew up in a house full of boys and had to fend for yourself, but really, did they wash all the femininity out of you?”

  “They didn’t wash anything.” I wrinkled my nose, remembering some of the smells that had turned up in the house during our teenage years. “They punched, kicked, tricked, and otherwise tortured the femininity out of me. Plus, all of that is overrated. The right man will like me exactly the way I am.”

  A knock on the front door pulled me away from the titillating discussion with Mrs. Rose DeMarco, my mother. I frowned as I crossed the room to greet the new arrival, wondering who bothered to knock at a party.

  Then again, this wasn’t your average pizza place. It was located on the first floor of a two-story building. The second floor held my private living quarters, while the first floor had been converted from a business space into a diner’s delight with lofty windows, old tables, and worn wooden benches littering the roomy eating area. A state of the art kitchen had been added behind the counter.

  We’d hadn’t touched the wooden front door, nor had we added a ton of flair to the outside. The signage was dubious at best except for a DeMarco’s Pizza above the door in flickering neon. I was counting on word of mouth and quality of pizza to bring in customers.

  “Nash,” I said, pulling open the door and quickly stepping outside. I shut the door as I offered a calculated smile at my second oldest brother. “What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it to the party.”

  Nash stood rigidly straight, the stick that was normally up his ass firmly planted in place. “Detective.”

  “Drop it, Nash. I’m your sister.”

  He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable, and that’s when I discovered he wasn’t alone. A shadow approached from the darkness behind my brother. It was a male figure no doubt, his build too tall and too broad to be mistaken for anything else. As he stepped closer, his face easing into the glow from the party, the wry greeting I’d prepared died on my lips.

  Captain Matthew King. I hadn’t even realized I’d said his name aloud, but it must have slipped out because his dark eyes landed on mine, hard, calculating, and all too familiar.

  I inhaled the peculiar scent of him—something woodsy and fresh, a spice to it that warmed me despite the distance between us. Then again, it was hard to say if it was his cologne that sent shivers down my spine, or the mere proximity of him.

  “Detective,” he said, his voice a chocolatey river of alluring sweet undercut with a deadly danger. “Congratulations on your successful launch.”

  “Sorry I didn’t send you an invitation, but I figured you wouldn’t be interested in attending.”

  Matthew gave a hint of a smile. He rarely pulled his lips back enough for anyone to recognize the just-too-sharp edge of his canine teeth. His fangs remained retracted—except to feed, of course, and when he was aroused or sensed danger. I’d been a witness to all a long, long time ago.

  The smile turned out to be hollow and disappeared with a snap as he gave a curious tilt of his head. “Detective—”

  “Drop the formality. I’m retired.” I wiped my hands against the apron tied to my waist. “I’m Dani DeMarco, owner of the Sixth Borough’s greatest pizza shop now.”

  I said this with a falsetto that didn’t have anyone smiling. Nash had been firmly against my leaving the force; Matthew even more so, although he hadn’t said as much. It was merely understood. Things between Matthew and I often felt that way.

  Nash cleared his throat. “We’re here on official business, Dani. We need your help.”

  “Apparently it’s a big deal if they sent my brother and the big guns.” I nodded toward Matthew, captain of the Sixth Precinct Homicide Unit. “What do you need from me? I have an alibi for the entire evening,” I joked. “Ask anyone here.”

  The Sixth Precinct is a well-buried program that started as an offshoot to the human NYPD meant to serve and protect the Sixth Borough of New York. See, everyone knows about the main five boroughs of New York: Staten Island, Manhattan, The Bronx, Brooklyn, and Queens, but only those with supernatural tendencies can enter the Sixth Borough—also named Wicked.

  Wicked was slotted into New York like the rest of the boroughs—smack in between Staten Island, Manhattan, and Brooklyn. On maps, it looked like a sea of water. To humans, it looked like a sea of water. To us, it was a city ripe with culture, paranormal species, and now, the hottest new pizza parlor to enter the paranormal world: DeMarco’s Pizza.

  Needless to say, we had our own problems with crime, and we needed our own way to police the paranormal issues. Slapping a pair of regular old handcuffs on a sorceress was like sending a giant into a china shop—a useless and dangerous practice that was costly when things went south. Hence the reason we policed our own in Wicked and let the human NYPD take care of everyone else.

  “We’re not looking for an alibi.” Matthew glided closer, his size an impressive wall before me. “I’m asking a favor.”

  “I’m a little busy right now, but sure. What can I do you for, Captain?”

  Matthew’s close proximity made the breath hitch in my throat. He was tall and broad and muscular—his physique enviable to male creatures everywhere.

  His hair, a dark brown bordering on black, cut across a glint of pale skin—though a rare tinge of color in his cheeks told me he was either turned on, angry, or frightened. Since I doubted Matthew could feel fear, and he happened to not like me very much at the moment, I doubted it was the former or the latter, and I settled on anger. He was angry. But at what? The thought had me worried even before he spoke.

  “We found Mayor Lapel dead.” Matthew’s voice took on a deep, rolling gait. He could be a silver-tongued devil when he wanted to be. Persuasiveness was a skill vampires used more than almost any other, without even thinking about it, but Matthew had learned to tone it down when talking to me because he knew it pissed me off. “The mayor’s body was discovered in a hotel room along with a young woman’s—one who was not his wife.”

  “And?” I hesitated. “I’m sorry for the city’s loss, but I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

  “Dani,” Nash growled, finally dropping the formality. “Don’t be dense. We need a Reserve to help analyze the scene.”

  “I trained Lucia to be my replacement. She’s probably better than I am by this point,” I said, thinking of the blond-haired pixie with a hint of envy.

  Lucia had been born with the same rare talent that I, too, possessed: The ability to see Residuals—traces of spells left behind after they’ve been cast.

  “Again,” I reiterated,
“I don’t know how I can help you. I’ve been out of the business for eight—almost nine—months.”

  Nash’s eyes flicked toward Matthew, asking an unspoken question.

  My eyes narrowed at the men. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Lucia doesn’t appear to be working for us anymore,” Matthew said. “She stopped showing up to work two weeks ago.”

  My heart pumped a little faster. “Why?”

  “We’re not sure.” Matthew tried to remain calm. “We’ve been investigating her disappearance in case of foul play, but we haven’t found any evidence of... well, anything at all. By all accounts, it looks like one morning she just took off of her own free will.”

  I’d spent six months beside Lucia—training, teaching, introducing her to every technique and most of the contacts I’d met on the job. She was a bit flighty about personal matters, but when it came to her job, she’d been fierce and determined.

  “No.” I found myself shaking my head. “No, she wouldn’t have run away. She’s been gone for two weeks? Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

  “Because you retired,” Nash snapped. “We tried to get by without her, but in a case this big, we need help. Between the publicity it’ll receive and its impact on Wicked, we need to act fast.”

  “We were hoping Lucia would return on her own when she was ready,” Matthew admitted, “but it appears she has left for good.”

  “I’m telling you, she didn’t just up and leave. There are two options, one more likely than the other. The first is that she saw something that scared her. I’m not talking about a sick murder scene—she’s seen plenty of those by now.” I paused for emphasis. “I’m talking about something that rattled her freaking cage. Yes, you both know what I mean.”

  Nash shifted uneasily from one foot to the other while I leveled my eyes at both men. The shared, bruised look that only those who’ve seen humanity at its worst can recognize passed between us.

  “The second option,” I said, “is that she was taken unwillingly.”

  “Which is more likely?” Matthew asked, though he could read the answer in my eyes.

  “If I had to guess,” I ventured. “My vote would be on a kidnapping.”