Warrior's Craft Four Guys & A Witch by Cheryl Dragon

Chapter One
     
    The tingle of testosterone and masculinity in the air made Phoebe’s body hum. It happened every time she walked into the Franklin and Matthews Office Of Private Investigations. The office was located in a converted Victorian home in the historic section of Detroit, where four men lived and shared a mission.
    They didn’t dress like superheroes, though they’d look good in tights. While they didn’t have special powers, they saved people from the things that went bump in the night.
    Knowing their secret and helping the warriors with their battle put her in rough spots sometimes. Phoebe knew they were on the side of light and good. Her great aunt, who led the local coven, didn’t approve, but Phoebe had to help. When they called, how could she resist?
    She walked past the front room and into the old music room. Two large desks were positioned where she suspected a baby grand once stood. Her powers seemed to increase around the men, and this old house felt like a home to her. Since her coven consisted mostly of women, it made sense that the change to men felt good. She had to work hard not to romanticize her time with the guys. Fantasizing came later.
    “Hey, there’s the prettiest witch in Michigan.” Andy Matthews walked out from the kitchen and hugged her. With black hair, blue eyes, and a build like a prizefighter, he intimidated many opponents. He was dressed for the gym. Phoebe didn’t mind the view at all.
    Andy’s boyfriend, Jude Clark, was right behind him and gave her an extra squeeze. “We’ll be back soon. Gotta sign a new client.” He waved on his way out the door. Those boy-next-door good looks on a large muscled frame fit his job as a personal trainer perfectly.
    “DC is in the dining room. He needs the help.” Andy gave her a thumbs up and dashed to catch Jude.
    “Bye.” She waved back. Her body desperately wanted to follow them. They were a couple, but openly flirted with her. The other two men in the group were single and, by all accounts, straight. Of course, they were the ones who kept a more respectful distance. Men!
    She walked back to the dining room. They’d done basic repairs to keep the house up, but the old printed wallpaper remained. The furniture had held up well through years of use, lots of wood and overstuffed sofas and chairs. Upstairs she knew there were several big bedrooms. In her dreams she moved in, played house, and things got hot. Then reality hit -- she was just a visitor. But it felt good while she was here.
    DC was bent over his books and laptop as usual. The slight geeky effect of his glasses in no way detracted from his battle-ready body. They trained for battle. Her pagan warriors against evil wouldn’t go down the wrong path.
    When she set her patchwork bag of essentials on the table, she spooked DC.
    “Sorry. I thought you were expecting me. Why are you in the dining room? Reed is out too?” She took a seat in the antique mahogany chair.
    “I was going to bring the books to the front office, but here is fine. Reed’s in the back office working on a non-paranormal job. Have to keep the money coming in. Once we destroy this group of demons, I’ll take all the substitute teaching work I can.” DC slid a map of Detroit in front of her.
    “Must be a powerful group if you’ve been after them for two weeks.” Phoebe saw the bandage on DC’s strong forearm. His intense hazel gaze caught her and she buried her nose in her bag. “Is your arm better?”
    “Pretty much. Their saliva has some sort of enzyme that slows healing. They’ve killed one person we can confirm, and attacked a few more since we’ve been after them. We took out a few but there are more.” DC tugged his long-sleeved shirt down. He was dressed casually today, jeans and dress shirt. The former history teacher seemed distracted.
    “What can I do to help?” At only twenty-seven, Phoebe wasn’t the most powerful witch in her coven. Most weren’t willing, though, to help men