Harpy's Mission Read online

  Harpy’s Mission

  Supernatural Retrieval Agency #1

  Laura Greenwood

  Contents

  Keep Up To Date

  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

  Author Note

  Also by Laura Greenwood

  About the Author

  © 2021 Laura Greenwood

  * * *

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission of the published, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address; [email protected].

  Visit Laura Greenwood’s website at:

  www.authorlauragreenwood.co.uk

  Cover Design by Ravenborn Cover Designs

  Harpy’s Mission is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Blurb

  Harper has wanted to join the Agency for as long as she can remember, but even she never expected to be thrown in the deep end on her first day.

  * * *

  After she helps uncover a secret crime ring within the city, she's sent on a rescue mission to get a vital witness to safety. But when the plan goes sideways, Harper and her partner have to work out why, and how they can fix it.

  * * *

  Can this harpy complete her mission?

  -

  Harpy's Mission is book one in the urban fantasy Supernatural Retrieval Agency Series, which includes a romantic m/f sub-plot.

  Chapter One

  Anticipation builds up inside me as I stare at the building in front of me. I've passed it almost every day of my entire life, but today is different. I get to go inside the Supernatural Retrieval Agency headquarters and get the badge I've been dreaming of since I was six years old and understood the role they played in keeping peace throughout the country.

  Not that I completely understood at that age. But I recognised the basics. I'm lucky my parents took me seriously and did everything they could to make sure I had the best education I could so that when the time came for me to take the exams to become part of the Agency, I passed with flying colours.

  I check my watch, reassured to see I'm still early and haven't spent too long staring at a building. That wouldn't be a good impression to make on whoever my new partner is.

  There aren't many people in reception at this time in the morning, which isn't a surprise. Most people are busy going to their own jobs, not reporting crimes.

  "How can I help you?" a bored-looking receptionist asks.

  "I'm Harper Jones, I'm here..."

  "You're the new girl," he cuts me off, perking up a little. "I thought you'd be a bit more...feathery."

  I roll my eyes. The comment has come even faster than I imagined it would. "Sorry to disappoint." I suppose I could offer to get my wings out and sate his curiosity, but I don't think this is the right place to do it. "Where do I need to go?"

  "Third floor, room sixteen." His boredom returns instantly. I'd have thought working as a receptionist in a supernatural crime-fighting agency would be exciting, but apparently not.

  I head to the stairs and climb them quickly. I'm half tempted to get my wings out and fly up them instead, but that'll be a terrible first impression if the wrong person catches me, and I don't want that.

  My toes curl in my boots as I make it to the third floor. It may not be long before I have to let my wings out given the itch in my entire body. Most of the time, I can ignore the urge to let my feet become claws, and my back sprout wings, but that doesn't seem to be the case today. Some days are like that.

  I push the sensation down. My first day on a new job isn't the best time for it. Thankfully, all harpies, and supernaturals like us, are taught how to control the urges from as early as we can walk. Humans think they're fine with the supernatural, but only when it comes to vampires, witches, and other humanoid creatures. My kind, not so much. But that's fine by me. Vampires can't fly over the city at night, or perch on a rooftop. I wouldn't give that up for something as simple as looking human all the time.

  It only takes me a few minutes to find room sixteen. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for whatever I'm going to find on the other side of the door. I'm not sure why I'm suddenly so nervous. I've been studying the Agency since I was a child, and I've been here several times on school trips and my interviews.

  But today is different. I get to finally call this my workplace. And that's terrifying in a way.

  The door cracks open and a tall man with brilliant green eyes pops his head around it. "Are you coming inside, Ms Jones?"

  My mouth falls open. How does he know my name?

  Wait, right. They're expecting me. Of course he knows my name. And why I'm here.

  "Yes, coming." I smile as brightly as I can to cover the nerves and follow him into the room.

  It's a decent size, with six desks all setup, and a few whiteboards scattered around the room. There's no way to tell the difference between this room and one belonging to a human police force. Which is just the way it's supposed to be.

  "So, Ms Jones, you're a harpy, is that right?" the green-eyed man asks.

  I nod. "Yes. That's me."

  "Good." He ticks a box on a clipboard he's holding, not even seeming interested in the fact I'm a reasonably rare kind of supernatural creature. Maybe it's nothing special here. I guess I'll find out in time.

  "I'm Agent Thompson, but you can call me Elias."

  "I'm Harper."

  He raises an eyebrow, like most people do when they hear my name for the first time.

  "I know. It's my Mum, she thought it was funny." Who knows why. I'd rather not be saddled with a name that people have to double-check. But that's not what she decided for me. I suppose I could use a nickname or something, but that doesn't feel right.

  "Interesting choice."

  "Tell me about it," I mutter.

  "Anyway..."

  "Aren't you going to ask me to get my wings out?" I mutter, forgetting where I am.

  Confusion flits across Elias' face. "Why would I do that?" he asks.

  "Everyone does when they find out I'm a harpy."

  A smirk plays at his lips. Two huge dark brown wings erupt from his back. I don't need to look down to know his feet have transformed into talons.

  I've seen it enough times on myself.

  "Ah."

  "Yes. Now we've got that out of the way, can we go back to giving you an induction?"

  "Sorry." I glance down at the floor.

  "It's okay. I'm used to people asking too. But it's best not to assume about species here, you'll make enemies if you're not careful," he warns.

  I nod, annoyed at myself for making such a basic mistake. I don't even like people asking to see my wings, why am I upset when someone doesn't.

  Elias folds his back in, returning to his human form.

  "Thank the feathers for spelled clothing, right?" He sits down on his chair and gestures to the one beside his desk.

  I perch on it, not fully able to relax, though I can't put a talon on why.

  "My wardrobe would be a lot less practical without it," I agree.

  "You'll be even more glad of it here. There are times when normal clothing would rip."

  "So we'll be getting into dangerous situations then?" I perk up.

  He raises an eyebrow. "You're very eager."

  "Isn't that what you want from a new recruit?"

  "That depends what you're capable of."

  "I can show you, if you want?" I suggest. "I'm happy to spar with you."

  Surprise flits across his face, but to my surprise, he nods. "Very well. Once we're done here, we'll go down to the gym and I'll see if you fight as well as you talk."

  I lean back in my seat, starting to relax a bit now I'm getting a better sense of him. "That's fine. What else do we need to do here?"

  "Very eager," he says under his breath. "Not much. I have your ID card and a couple of forms for you to sign. Your desk is that one." He points to it.

  I nod. "Who else works in this room?" I ask. I doubt it's just the two of us given the space.

  "Pippa McKenzie and whoever her partner is at the time."

  "She goes through them quickly?" What's wrong with her to scare them off? And why do they keep her around if that's the case?

  "Not by choice," he assures me. "They like to assign people to partners who are the same supernatural type as one another. Pippa gets anyone who doesn't have a match until one comes along."

  "Why do they do that?"

  "Give her the odd ones out?"

  I shake my head. "Assign people to the same supernatural type." It seems like a strange thing to do for a department whose
main purpose is about cooperation.

  "It's to do with assignments. If a task involves flying, then it's easier to assign if both partners can do it."

  "Hmm."

  "Are you already planning on how to change the way the agency works?"

  "Do I stand a chance?" I check.

  He chuckles and shakes his head. "Definitely not. It's been run this way for as long as I've been here, probably for even longer than that too."

  "That's normally a good indicator that things should change," I point out.

  "Then you'll need to work your way up to the top to be able to do that. And I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest you have a few decades of work ahead of you to make that a reality."

  "One day, it will be," I assure him. "Maybe I'll even be your boss."

  He leans back in his seat, an amused grin playing at his lips. "You know, most people don't come in on their first day and announce that they're going to be the boss."

  "I'm not most people." The sooner he realises that, the better.

  "Do you always claim to be a cliché?" The glint in his eyes is enough for me to know he's teasing.

  "Only when it gets me what I want."

  "I'm going to have my hands full with you, aren't I?"

  "Now who's using clichés?" A smug grin spreads over my face.

  Elias' laugh booms through the room, warm and inviting. "If you're ready, we should get to the gym. Then I can see if you can live up to all this talk."

  "I can assure you, I'm better."

  He smiles and shakes his head. "I hope you're ready."

  "I was born ready," I respond, trying to keep a straight face over my choice of words, which was easier said than done.

  Chapter Two

  I crick my neck and ready myself for what's likely to be the toughest fight I've had in a long time. I haven't changed sparring partners in a while, and have no idea what Elias is capable of. Between his confidence, his broad shoulders, and his job here, I had to assume that he was good.

  Which was fine by me. There's no point winning a fight if my opponent doesn't put up a challenge.

  I snap my hairband into place at the end of my braid. I normally like to leave my hair loose, but it's not practical in a fight. Or when I'm out on a mission. I'm not the kind of woman who insists on keeping it perfectly styled when it isn't practical. Though I do love a good blow-out as much as the next girl.

  The full-length mirror in the women's changing rooms calls to me. I pad over, barefoot and clad a tight-fitting black tank top and leggings. I'm glad I thought to bring them with me, I'd hate to be sparring in jeans.

  Once in front of it, I summon my wings and watch as they spring forth from my back. They're too big to be fully captured in my reflection, but that doesn't matter. I only want to check them to make sure there aren't any damaged feathers. I did it this morning too, but I don't want to take any chances with first impressions. If Elias sees my wings in disarray, maybe he'll think I'm not serious about this.

  I pull my wings back in, hiding them for now. I'm not sure if we're going to be sparring in our human forms or our harpy ones. It doesn't matter to me either way. I've made sure I'm proficient in both. I know a lot of supernaturals rely on their additional powers, but I think that's an easy way to be caught off guard. What happens if I'm cornered and don't have enough space for my wings? They're easy to control and I can move them around, but that doesn't mean they can't break. The one experience I had with a broken wing when I was twelve was enough to put me off for the rest of my life. I never want to go through something that uncomfortable ever again.

  I stretch myself out a little more, warming my muscles and readying myself for the fight ahead. I know I won't have an opportunity to prepare if I'm caught out in the field, but I'm not willing to take any chances when I know in advance what I'm going to be doing.

  A knock sounds on the door, pulling me away from my warm-up.

  "Are you ready?" Elias calls through, sounding as excited as I am by the prospect.

  I hurry over and pull it open. "Definitely."

  He leads me into a room full of mats. The ceiling towers above us and must span for most of the building.

  "It's so those of us who can fly can practice manoeuvres," Elias supplies.

  "Thoughtful of them."

  "There's a deep pool for the water dwellers too, but I didn't think you'd want to spar there."

  I grimace at the thought of damp feathers. The shower isn't too bad, but anything where they become waterlogged is a definite no-no. Clothing is bad enough when it comes to it, but wings were a nightmare. Not only would they drag me down, but getting the chlorine out of them was next to impossible. Flying after that only led to being subjected to the stench every time I flapped them.

  Elias chuckles. "My thoughts exactly."

  I turn to him and place my hands on my hips. "How are we doing this?"

  He runs his gaze up and down me, and I swear I can see a hint of appreciation in his eyes. I'm not surprised, I know I look good from the years of training I've done. I haven't taken any chances when it comes to getting into the Agency.

  "I thought we'd start simple. Hand to hand combat, no shifting. And then we can assess the rest," he suggests.

  "Sounds good to me." I crack my neck again, raring to go. I'm sure we have plenty of casework to do, and I'm eager to get on with it, but I'm looking forward to seeing what my new partner is made of. Maybe even more than he is to see how I manage.

  "Let me know when you're ready," he says.

  I don't. Instead, I lurch forward and swipe at his head.

  Elias isn't fooled, and easily raises an arm to block me. We go back and forth a few times, trying to get a feel for one another's fighting style. He's easily a match for me, probably a better fighter overall, but not by too much. I feel like if I'm smart and fast, I can beat him. Maybe.

  But if I want to win, then I'm going to have to take him by surprise. And there's a way I can do that so long as he isn't planning on the same.

  I spy a beam up above and make the split-second decision to jump up. It won't buy me long, clearly Elias is perceptive with quick reflexes. He'll be on to me in seconds.

  My wings erupt from my back and my feet transform into talons. I dig them into the soft wood of the beam, using them for balance. I count to ten, then leap off towards where Elias is standing.

  To both my disappointment and my delight, he's already caught onto my plan, his wings spread around him as he jumps up to meet me, knocking me out of the air. We start to fall. I retract my wings as I prepare to land on my back, not wanting to take any risks over damaging them.

  We roll, each ending up on top for a few moments, only for the other to gain an advantage.

  I almost manage to get to my feet, only for Elias to sweep his leg out and knock me off them. He pins my arms down, his legs straddling me so I can't kick out.

  A wide grin stretches over his face. "I think I win."

  "This time," I respond. I'll beat him next time. Or maybe the one after that. Getting to know him will reveal how he thinks and what his go-to moves are. Once I've sorted those out, I'll be able to make a plan to beat him in a sparring match.

  Elias climbs to his feet and holds out his hand.

  I take it, not seeing any harm in letting him help me up.

  "I'm impressed. Most new recruits wouldn't have lasted half the time you did."

  "Maybe they just aren't as good as me?" I suggest.

  "Or you're lucky."

  "I guess you'll find out next time we do this," I respond with a wink.

  "But next time, you need to stick to the rules. You can't go breaking them while we're out in the field. That's how people end up injured."

  My cheeks flush. I'd only been thinking about how to beat him, not about the fact he'd been trying to assess me and that this is part of the first impression I'm making on him.