Witch's Sorrow: A Witch Detective Urban Fantasy (Alice Skye Series Book 1)

by Taylor Aston White

  Her nightmares were a shattered memory created by a scared child, too broken to be pieced together.

  Something licked her fingers, the tongue rough. Turning her head she stared at the leopard half lying across her legs, Sam’s huge eyes staring back at her expectantly.

  “Sam?” she asked the leopard, her voice harsh, even to her ears. Sam purred in response, curling further onto her legs so his fur came into focus. His leopard was a glorious gold, his rosettes a deep black that turned into a warm brown. It made him pretty, and he knew it.

  THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

  Sam jumped up, his hackles rising as a growl erupted from his throat.

  THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

  In one motion she swung her legs off the bed, her knees giving out immediately. “Bloody hell!” Her arms slapped against the side table as she tried to stop her fall.

  “FEMALE?” A voice shouted in the distance.

  THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

  “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” A different voice, this one further away. Probably one of her neighbours.

  Sam paced in front of her bedroom door, shooting through the opening once she turned the handle. He quickly ran to the front door and sniffed along the edge, peering back at her anxiously with amber eyes before disappearing into his bedroom.

  “ALICE! ARE YOU IN?”

  THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

  She unlocked the front door and opened it, only then realising she was wearing just a sleep shirt, one barely covering her underwear, but it was already too late. Rex stared, a blush burning the back of her neck as his gaze leisurely rolled over her ruffled hair and bare legs. Alice felt herself fidget as he looked at the length of her body, his eyes hardening as he noticed the bruises.

  “Can I help you?” she asked politely, pretending everything was normal and she didn’t have a hangover from hell.

  Silently he walked in, slamming the front door behind him. “Do you ever answer your bloody phone?”

  Head pounding, she closed her eyes, trying not to throw up as pain resonated through her skull.

  A warm hand gripped the top of her arm.

  “You okay?”

  “Does she bloody look okay?” Sam leaned against the wall, wearing only a pair of boxers. His long blond hair swept over one shoulder, draped elegantly across his bare chest. Clicking his tongue Sam pointedly looked Rex up and down, his face clearly unimpressed. “You must be the Alpha.”

  “You must be her cat,” Rex replied, ignoring Sam’s scowl. He turned back to Alice, dismissing the leopard. “What happened?” He reached out to touch her face, his eyes betraying nothing, yet his hand was feather light on her skin.

  “Danton brought her back from the club,” Sam stated, bringing their attention back to him. “He said she was attacked, he had to seal her wounds.” Sam licked out his tongue in demonstration.

  Alice jumped when Rex leaned down to sniff her neck, his clean-shaven cheek rubbing against hers.

  “Get off my girl,” Sam growled, stepping between them and forcing Rex to move back.

  “Your girl, huh?” Rex tilted his head, nostrils flaring.

  “Both of you stop it.” She put her hand on Sam’s arm, quieting him down. “Did D say anything else?”

  Sam stared at Rex for a few seconds more, the warning clear. “Not really.”

  Sam caught Alice’s gaze. How do you feel? he silently asked, not wanting the Alpha to understand his concern. It was a trick they had learnt from Dread, being able to read someone’s eyes.

  Could be better, she replied the same way.

  “I’ll put the kettle on,” she said aloud before turning to the kitchen. Her headache thumped, someone clearly dancing the foxtrot across her brain. Painkiller in hand, she swallowed it dry as she turned on the kettle, waiting for it to boil. Her foot tapped as she waited, the motion causing the headache to radiate so she stopped, closing her eyes instead.

  “Your boyfriend’s getting ready for work,” Rex said, a telltale squeak as he settled himself onto one of her flimsy chairs. “Right after he threatened me, of course.”

  Alice turned then, hearing slight humour in his voice. She still couldn’t decipher him, his face relaxed, his eyelashes low across his eyes, shielding his thoughts. Did he know she was trying to read him? Everyone had tells, facial twitches, rapid blinking, smiles that didn’t reach their eyes. All subtle indicators of emotion, even deception. She could read people well.

  Yet, she couldn’t read him, at least, not when the man was in control. His beast, as she was beginning to learn, was rawer in his emotions. How was she supposed to know what he was thinking if he was constantly in control?

  Deciding not to acknowledge his last statement she grabbed a mug, pouring him a drink.

  “Here.” She handed it over to Rex, suppressing a smile when he lifted it to his lips, revealing the hidden joke.

  ‘TWAT’ was written neatly in white along the bottom, only visible when someone tipped the mug at a certain angle.

  “Thanks,” he grumbled, setting the mug down. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

  Alice took a sip of her own tea before answering, the painkiller working miracles as it soothed down her throat. “I was dancing…” She shook her head, trying to remember but stopped when her brain threatened to explode. “I was carried outside,” she continued, her eyes closed as she tried to remember.

  “Anything else?” A whisper, his voice closer than it was before. Startled she opened her eyes, his face only a centimetre away, his lashes low, eyes watching her mouth. Heart racing, she licked her dry lips, his gaze following the action before he looked up at her, his blue eyes radiating something she couldn’t read.

  “Erm.”

  “Baby girl, have you seen my work shirt?” Sam walked in, taking in the situation with a quick sweep of his eyes. Alice jumped back, heat burning across her cheeks. “Well, don’t let me interrupt you.”

  “You didn’t interrupt anything,” Alice stuttered.

  “Sure I didn’t,” Sam smirked, jumping up onto the kitchen counter, his chest still bare as he swung his denim clad legs. “Nice mug,” he commented.

  Rex frowned, still not understanding the joke. “Tyler, my second is on his way over, he might know some more information.”

  “What about how you guys let Alice be attacked?” Sam smiled sweetly, his eyes staring at the floor as he baited Rex.

  Alice just audibly sighed. “I need to shower.” She stretched her arms up, enjoying the click before she realised both men were staring at her. “I won’t be long.” She called behind as she hurried to the bathroom.

  She tried not to think of them alone, as the possibility of walking out with the kitchen in ruins ran through her head.

  They were adults, they could behave themselves.

  Deciding to make the shower quick, she stepped in front of the mirror, groaning when she saw the top she was wearing. She thought she had on one of her sleeping shirts.

  Apparently not.

  The words ‘Things to do with a pussy...’ was written across her chest. ‘Play with it’ was on the left breast and ‘Lick it’ was on the right, both placed either side of the image of a black cat, its paws reaching down to play with the bottom hem.

  Yes, the Alpha of one of the largest packs in Britain had seen her wear nothing but an obscene t-shirt. In her defence, it wasn’t hers.

  Hopefully he saw the humour in it. Which was doubtful.

  Bloody hell.

  In one swift movement she pulled off the t-shirt, throwing it into the corner of the small bathroom. She risked a look in the mirror, the harsh bathroom light highlighting the bruises across her skin.

  “Shit.” She bared her throat, remembering the sharp pain the night before. The skin had a purplish tone that was starting to turn a sickly yellow. Hesitantly she reached up, the skin smooth and unbroken.

  A vampire’s saliva was famous for its healing qualities, a few licks and they could close most superficial wounds, which made sense evo
lutionarily speaking, considering they have to cut someone to feed. Better to be able to heal them afterwards rather than let their dinner bleed to death.

  It’s was just lucky her bite wasn’t deep enough to cause more damage, and even luckier she had D around to close it.

  Turning to the shower she operated the dial. The old shower head wheezed, sputtering before water poured from the many holes. The bathroom, just like the rest of the place, was old and broken. They had painted over the tiles when they first moved in, the colour now an off white unlike the bright green it was before. The shower hung above the old bath, the panels avocado coloured and cracked.

  The water was scalding when she stepped into the stream, the water unknotting the tangle of hair as bits of debris and flakes of brick began to fall out. Lathering her lavender soap, she stroked down her arms, across her breasts and lower over her stomach. The water at her feet was a rusty red, the colour becoming paler before disappearing altogether. Startled, she searched over her body for an open wound, not finding anything. She turned to look at herself in the mirror, able to just see if she leaned slightly. Dried blood, mostly washed away was patched across her shoulder blades and back.

  Her hand went up to her neck again, reassuring herself that her throat was whole.

  A loud crash, followed by a shout.

  Wiping the water from her face she listened, thinking she had imagined it.

  Another crash, this time the door vibrating as something smashed against it.

  “Fuck.” She hopped out of the shower, steadying herself as she started to slip on the tiled floor.

  Grabbing a towel from the rack she opened the door, almost running into the back of Sam. He stood in the way, his shoulders bunched as he stood guard.

  “Sam?” she asked, trying to peer around his shoulders. “What’s happening?”

  “Dominance issues.” He turned so she couldn’t see. “I wouldn’t come out.”

  She ducked underneath his arm, her gaze narrowing as she noticed a vase smashed on the floor. One of the small things she actually liked.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  A loud growl turned her head, the sofa having been pushed across the room. Rex was crouched on the floor, it took her a few seconds to see the man underneath.

  “What are you doing?” She took a step forward, stopping when she heard a warning bark. Rex leant forward, his hands on either side of the stranger with his teeth bared. “Enough!” she shouted.

  Rex snarled, jumping up to stand in the corner, his eyes gone completely wolf. The wolf watched her, anger, desire, and vengeance flashing across his eyes too fast to read.

  “Alice stay back.” She felt Sam grab her arm, pulling her away. “Be careful,” he whispered in her ear. “Rex’s beast is in control.” Shifters were one with their beasts, sharing the same body but two personalities, the beast half being the more savage of the temperaments.

  “What happened?” she asked, whispering back. The stranger on the floor slowly came to his knees, his head still tilted painfully to the side.

  “His second needs to show submission.”

  “What? Why?”

  Sam shrugged against her. “The pack has a hierarchy. Stops them from fighting amongst themselves.”

  “You’re not like that,” she commented, continuing to stare at the man on his knees. Confused, she looked up at Rex, his eyes like ice, the wolf having its own internal dilemma. She had no idea what to say to calm the situation, especially to a wolf in human skin. She would describe herself as experienced with shifter culture, having lived with and worked with many. She knew the higher the dominance, the better control over their beast. An Alpha had complete control. Yet, Rex didn’t seem to.

  “I’m not a wolf.” Sam fidgeted next to her, his own beast reacting to the uncomfortable atmosphere.

  Rex was pulling an aura, something all Alphas or dominant shifters could do to get weaker shifters to submit. Sam might not be a wolf, but his animal was fighting instinct not to succumb to the power. She could feel it across her chi, the essence of her magic connected to her own aura. It was like a gentle river across her senses, persuasive and calming. It was trying to quiet the room, control the beasts.

  She wasn’t a beast.

  “Are we done here?” she asked the wolf, showing him he wasn’t the only Alpha here. At least, if there was such a thing as a witch Alpha.

  Rex continued to stare, unblinking focus as he took a step forward. Sam tensed, ready to intervene.

  “Go get dressed.” Rex’s gaze roamed over her exposed flesh, the towel only just covering the important bits. “I’ll clean up the mess.” His voice was strained, deeper than usual. Looking through her lashes she watched him, his face immobile, jaw still clenched.

  He was fighting for control.

  Sam pulled her into the bedroom, using his larger body to block the door. Shifters kept their human consciousness when shifted, they were able to see through the eyes of their animal and help decide what actions to take. That’s what Sam had told her once. He had also explained that when they shift, the animal can take over. They were a more animalistic personality, more unpredictable. That’s what she had felt staring at Rex, his animal reacting to something she couldn’t see, the man having no control over his animal’s instincts.

  “He has little control over his beast,” Sam commented as she started to dress, a steady growl vibrating across his bare chest. “How can someone as powerful as that have no control?”

  She knew it was rhetorical, but felt herself answering anyway. “I don’t know.” But she sure as hell was going to figure it out. “Go to work Sam.”

  “And leave you with the granny killer? I don’t think so baby girl.”

  “Granny killer?” She threw him one of his work shirts that had been mixed with her own clothes. He quickly pulled it on.

  “My, what big teeth you have,” he mocked in a high girly voice. “Better to eat you with my dear.” He gnashed his teeth together.

  Alice let out a snort. Sam, forever dramatic. “He’s hired me for a job…”

  “He looks at you like you’re dinner.”

  “This is stupid.” She wasn’t going to admit what she saw in his eyes. Didn’t even want to think about it. “You know I have to do this.”

  Sam pressed his lips together. “Call me if you need me.” He opened the bedroom door, storming out. She heard the front door slam a moment later.

  Great, now Sam is pissed. Frustrated, she pulled at her hair, tying it up into a relatively neat ponytail before she walked back into her living room.

  The stranger was standing in the corner, his arms crossed as his eyes followed her. His hair was dark, darker than the mahogany of his skin and shaved close to his skull, military style. His nose was the only thing ruining his otherwise perfectly symmetrical face, a too large nose that had clearly been broken at least once or twice.

  “Hi,” Alice greeted, “you must be Tyler.” The man just replied with a shallow nod. He openly stared at her, his hazel eyes tracing details across her face. “You don’t talk much do you?” That got her a head tilt, otherwise no other reaction.

  This was Rex’s second?

  “You challenging my second, Alice?”

  She turned to the man in question, his eyes once again in control. Challenging him?

  “No.”

  “Then why were you staring?”

  “I was watching his eyes, they’re almost as unreadable as yours,” she confessed. Rex pursed his lips, nodding to Tyler. The other man left quietly a second later. Alice scrutinised the whole scene, not understanding. “I thought we needed him?”

  “We do, he will be meeting us at the club.”

  “So we’re going back?”

  “Yes.” Rex watched her neck, his eyes tracing the bruises.

  She moved into the kitchen, noticing how nothing was broken or misplaced. Even the grains of her pentagram she had forgotten to clean up were undisturbed, the salt teased into a five-pointe
d star within a circle. Pulling her spelling pot from the cupboard, she set it gently onto the pentagram, careful not to smudge the lines. Rex stood silently, leaning against the doorway.

  “I can’t walk around like this,” she gestured to her neck before opening a drawer next to the sink and grabbing a small wooden disk.

  Complexion spells were one of the few amulet charms she could create from memory. However, it was expensive to create, so like everybody else with a tight budget she bought ready-made ones. They weren’t as good.

  Rex just grunted.

  “So what’s the plan?” she asked while placing the wooden disk into the bowl, pouring the store bought complexion potion over the disk gently. It would create an amulet, specifically designed for skin imperfections, freckles, blemishes, discolouration and even bruises. They would all be covered with the complexion veil, magic that concealed the imperfections under a shroud.

  “The plan is to see if we can track that wolf.” Rex had walked quietly behind her, peering inquisitively into the pot.

  “How would you track him?”

  “Tyler is a tracker. One of the best.”

  “Like a bloodhound?” She turned her back, gently turning the wooden disk to soak up the potion. “Ignis.” The disk burst into flame, eating up the remaining liquid.

  “An accurate description. However, I wouldn’t call him that to his face.” The flame died out, turning the wooden disk a few shades darker. With a knife she cut a small line along the tip of her thumb.

  “What are you doing?” Rex grabbed her arm, his tongue licking out to catch the drop of blood.

  “Seriously, that’s the second time in less than twelve hours someone has sucked or licked me.” Rex’s eyes flashed, his reaction unsettling her. “I need to activate the charm.” She tugged against him until he released her arm. Watching him suspiciously from the corner of her eye she squeezed her thumb, letting a single drop of blood hit the disk. Instantly there was a little fizzle, the scent of ozone strong in her nose.

  “Why your blood?”

  “I have special enzymes, it’s used as a reagent that reacts with the ingredients to turn on the magic’s effect.” Spinning the wood she smiled, feeling the magic thrum into her fingertips. She slipped the disk between the leather bracelet Rex had given her and tightened the cord, anchoring the disk flat to her skin.