TITLE: Witch Way Down
GENRE: Urban Fantasy
The choking stench of burnt flesh filled the air. It sat on the back of my tongue and slid down my throat. Standing with a hand clenched over my nose and mouth didn't help; it just made me look like I didn't belong. Eyes watering, a sheen of sweat coated my skin, but it was the hollow throbbing sound in my ears made me take a step back. The numbness of shock was slowly sinking into my muscles and I didn't want to take a header into the greasy pit of ash and human remains at my feet. If I passed out, maybe I wouldn't have to touch it. That was my happy thought.
"Grace, you okay?" March asked without his usual sarcastic tone. March was Sergeant Robert Marchand of the New Orleans Police Department, and I blamed him for the acid churning around in my stomach, threatening to spew all over his crime scene.
Nodding, I didn't say anything, because I didn't trust what would come out of my mouth. Nearly a year since I'd been roped into helping with monster-related investigations, it should've gotten easier. If March could stand here looking all calm and collected, I should be able to do the same. I needed to work on my magic, figure out a spell to make a rotting corpse smell like strawberry jaw, or pine trees, or dog shit—anything else really. "Can we just get this over with," I demanded.