“She’s dying.”
“I said back the fuck off,” he snarled.
“Riley, listen to me.” Xander got down on his knee. “You can’t. You know what would happen. If The Order…”
Alice tried to speak again, her ears starting to ring as sound slowly came back. “Riley?” she uttered in barely a whisper, her throat dry.
“Hey.” He stroked her hair from her eyes, ignoring Xander. “Did you really have to burn the place down? Over dramatic or what.” Riley tried to smile, the light not reaching his eyes.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“Unimportant,” he replied, cradling her as if she could break.
He checked her wrist, hand covering her wound even as the fire began to eat away at his flesh. She tried to pull away.
“Stay still.”
“Don’t boss me around,” she moaned as her eyelids became heavy.
The flames licked his skin, her blood continuing to burn her up from the inside out.
“Alice?” He rocked her gently. “ALICE, WAKEUP!”
A groan, her face scrunching up in annoyance.
“Alice listen to me, I need you to expel all the fire. Everything, you need to ostracise your power reserve.”
“What are you doing?” Xander asked, his tone deep with worry.
“Alice. Nod if you understand.”
A small movement against his chest.
“Ready? On the count of three. One, two, three.”
He held her as she screamed, fire pouring from her fingertips, an unpredictable recalcitrant element. The walls creaked, straining against the intense heat.
“We need to move!” Xander shouted over the roar of the flames.
“Give it a second.”
A metal beam crashed through the ceiling.
“WE NEED TO MOVE!”
“WAIT!” Another crash as the metal beam landed on the ticket office, smashing the glass into tiny shards. She felt Riley cover her with his body, shrapnel bouncing off his back. Blood no longer poured from her wrist, the fire having died out when she expelled her magic, her energy along with it. She could no longer feel anything.
Riley checked her pulse, feeling nothing.
“FUCK!”
He laid her on the ground, her aura damaged beyond repair as she pushed out everything she had.
“FUCK. FUCK. FUCK,” he chanted, hovering his hands over her body.
“What can I do?” Xander asked, remaining calm.
“Pump her heart.” Riley started breathing for her, tipping her head back to force air into her lungs. “Come on Alice.” He started breathing for her again.
“This isn’t working.” Xander stopped pumping to check her pulse. “It’s not beating on its own.”
“MOVE!” Riley pushed him out the way, hovering his hand gently over her heart.
“What are you doing?” Slight panic.
Riley concentrated as he shot a small amount of arcane into her heart, shocking it to restart.
Still no pulse.
“Shit.” He repeated the shock, his hand burning as he concentrated it into a small area.
A small beat, faint against her skin.
Epilogue
Alice hobbled ungracefully with her one crutch, taking a seat on the dust sheet-covered sofa. She groaned, allowing herself to sink into the cushion, her aches and pains protesting at any sort of movement. Even sitting down seemed to hurt.
She rested her head against the wall with a huff, her eyes tracing the intricate designs plastered onto the ceiling. A few cracks marked the otherwise beautiful work, nothing some DIY couldn’t fix.
She could hear muttering from the kitchen, Sam and Dread bickering over something completely ridiculous. They pretended to hate each other, but she knew, deep down, way deep down, that they did at least like each other.
Or it could be more like tolerate.
She couldn’t help but laugh to herself as she started to climb painstakingly back off the sofa, intending to go save two of her favourite people from possibly killing one another.
“You don't need this many mugs,” Dread grumbled as he put away yet another novelty mug into one of the kitchen cupboards. “I know for a fact you guys don’t have enough friends to use all these.”
“Aye, but what happens when one of our mugs decides to grow penicillin? Who are we to stop something from potentially saving the world?” Sam commented back, a smirk on his lightly stubbled face.
Alice just leant against the newly bought table, the chairs yet to be made. Sam smiled when he noticed her, rolling his eyes once Dread commented about the bad taste in mugs yet again.
Returning the smile automatically she stared at the deep bruises across his wrists and face, her smile slipping quickly. Shifters usually healed bruises within a couple of hours at most. It just showed how badly he was beaten, torn ligaments, broken bones, all priority compared to a few bruises.
"Alice you need to sit down. You shouldn't be up." Dread put the mug away with the others, trying to hide his concern.
Alice just sighed. She wasn’t stupid, she knew she was hurt. The aches she felt a testimony to that, as was her new crescent moon scar that was a constant reminder of one of the worst nights of her life.
Or, at least in the top three worst nights of her life.
The top of the crescent started in the middle of her left palm, curling down to just below her wrist, the thickened skin several degrees colder than the rest of her body.
“I thought I could help.” She had been bed bound, poked and prodded for weeks. She was about to lose it. She either needed to stab something or put away some damn mugs. As she stupidly gave up her sword, she was left with the mugs.
Clenching her fist she looked at Dread, wanting to ask the question she had been asking every day. Luckily Dread knew exactly what she was going to say.
“No,” he sighed, shaking his head gently. “I haven’t had any reports.”
Fighting disappointment she just nodded, deciding to look at the badly drawn pictures that Sam drew on her cast one night after too many wines. She knew it was a long shot. When she heard that Kyle was nowhere to be found at the train station she had hope. Hope that she would get answers, that he could help her understand.
Yet, he was nowhere to be found.
She had decided to move back into her family home, use her happy childhood memories to overcome the bad ones. She needed to learn to accept her past, accept the things she couldn’t change. Honour their memory. Renovating the house, making it her own was a start. Second was finding her brother.
“Hey baby girl, have you seen Riley recently?” Sam asked almost absently, his attention mostly on unpacking and not on the conversation. “I haven't seen him in a few weeks. He hasn't been to work either.”
“No, I haven’t,” she replied. It had become apparent pretty quickly that she had no idea how to contact him, which frustrated her even more than the cast. She had so many questions about what happened that night, her memory fuzzy to say the least. He wasn’t just a druid, he was more, just as she was more.
Dragon. War.
He had disappeared once he had completed his duty, no longer interested.
"Good riddance," muttered Dread. "All he will bring is trouble. Damn druids."
DING.
"I'm coming," she called down the hallway, the cast on her leg hindering her speed dramatically. Her aching wrist wasn't helping either.
DING.
“I’m coming,” she called again, dodging around cardboard boxes stashed high around the living room and hallway.
DING.
“Bloody hell, I’m coming!” She continued her painful journey, her whole body aching as she pushed it.
“Are you answering it or not Alice?” Sam shouted at her.
“I’m bloody answering it,” she let out a frustrated snarl.
DING.
“Oh, for… I SAID I WAS…!” She opened the front door, her voice shutting off instantly.
>
“Hello,” the man greeted, a black wolf sitting calmly by his legs.
“Hello,” Alice stumbled. “Why are you…?”
“I’m Theo. You must be Alice.”
“I know who you are,” her voice husky, anger growing. She glared at the man standing on the doorstep. “Why are you here?”
She never wanted to see Rex again, his betrayal scorched into her brain forever. Looking at his identical twin was almost as bad. Theo's hair was cut shorter, the strands barely touching his ears compared to Rex’s full head of hair. An old scar split his face, starting from his forehead, travelling across his nose and distorting his upper lip. The darkened skin should have made him ugly, yet it gave his face more character. That lip turned up at the corner.
“I thought you would be taller.” Eyes laughed at her aggressive reaction, or he could be laughing at her nest of a hair, barely brushed ponytail at least two days old.
“I disappoint myself sometimes too.”
“You have a nice house.”
“Please get to the point.” She wasn’t petty. Not petty at all.
He gave her a shy smile. “I wanted to say thank you, for what you did.”
“Oh.” Her arm shook as she balanced her weight on the crutch. “That’s okay.”
What else was she supposed to say to that?
“And Roman wanted to say thank you.” The wolf by his feet stood up, his tongue rolling out of his mouth in a wolfish grin.
“Where’s Rex?” Alice asked, hoping he was nowhere nearby.
“Not here.” The smile fell from his face.
“What are they doing here?” Sam came up from behind her with a snarl.
“You must be Sam,” started Theo.
“Why the fuck are you here?” Sam’s hackles rose, his teeth flashing as a threat. Well, as threatening as a man with a tea towel decorated with kittens draped over his shoulder could be.
“We're here to apologise. To you both it seems.”
“It’s not you who should be apologising,” he snapped. Alice put a shaky hand on his shoulder, calming him.
“No it shouldn’t be, but let’s not speak of my brother, or about the pride.”
Theo seemed to hesitate, trying to find the right words.
“They are no longer an issue.” His eyes flashed wolf, the same ice blue as Rex before he turned back to Alice. “Like I said, I just wanted to let you know how grateful I am, as well as my pack. I can’t even begin to explain the reasons why Rex did what he did.” He flicked a look towards Roman. “He broke so many pack laws in his desperation, once we figured out how he tracked you…”
“Wait, he tracked me?” She looked down at her naked wrist, the leather wrap having been cut off at the hospital. “It was the bracelet, wasn't it?” It all made sense.
"Ironically enough it was with the bracelet they could find you at the train station." He shook his head at the thought.
“Baby girl, you okay?” Sam’s concern breaking through.
She ignored the question, instead asking her own. “Was that all it could do?”
She waited for the answer, her eyes appraising Theo as he thought about it. Theo was attractive in the general sense, in the same way she had found Rex attractive, yet she felt nothing.
It made her chest ache, a sour taste at the back of her throat.
“There’s no way to know, I’m not familiar with the magic behind it.”
She gave a shallow nod, not wanting to speak as she digested the information.
“I have put in the request to take over White Dawn. Unfortunately, it means you might see more of me in the city.” He attempted to smile charmingly, but it came off more awkward.
“I hope you do a better job.” Maybe just a little petty.
A deep chuckle. “I hope so too.” He tilted his head, clearly hearing something she couldn’t. “That’s my signal to leave.”
Theo patted Roman on the head.
“Before I go, I just want you to know if you ever need anything, from myself or the pack please do not hesitate to ask, it’s the least I can do.”
He turned to leave when Roman nipped at his heels.
“Oh yes, I almost forgot.” Reaching back he passed across her sword, her crystal necklace wrapped tightly around its hilt. “I believe these belong to you.”
Alice touched the coolness of her sword, happiness at feeling the familiar weight against her palm. With a flash of light runes appeared down the shaft, brightening as she brushed her fingertip down the metal.
“Alice...” She heard the concern in Sam’s voice, he knew the sword had never done that before. Unable to comfort him she watched the lights dance, a pain in her gut.
Something had changed. She didn’t know if that was for the better or not.
She needed to figure out who she was.
“Thank you,” she said as she put down the sword, not wanting to look at it. Not wanting to acknowledge that she wasn’t what she thought. What her parents were.
“You’re welcome.” With a small smile Theo turned away, Roman tight behind. “This really is a nice house.”
“Thanks,” she replied to his back. “It was my parents.”
It’s home.
The End of Book One
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Continue reading for an excerpt of Druid’s Storm - Alice Skye Book Two
Druid’s Storm
The black, floor-length dress was modest, high in the neck but low in the back as she posed in front of the mirror. Alice knew as she walked that flashes of her legs would be seen through the almost indecent slits down each side. Not necessarily appropriate for a charity Gala, but perfect for being able to access the twin daggers strapped high on her thighs.
She hated shopping, which was why Sam was the one who went and purchased the dress specifically for the Gala.
He would make a great wife, she mused to herself.
A flash of light caught her eye, her favoured sword sitting where she left it a few months back.
According to Dread, it had been her mother’s, a traditional blade passed down through the family. It was still bittersweet that she never received it from her parents, that they would never be able to see her use it. That she would never get to ask why the blade flashed with twinkly lights now every time she touched it, glowing runes that only appeared when she either stroked the steel or held the hilt. Writings she couldn’t understand.
It had never happened before. Not to her at least.
Not wanting to think about it, or the man who could also make the steel glow, she faced the mirror once again, glancing at the elegant lines of the dress as she applied a dark lipstick.
Struggling with the zip she strode down the stairs into the living room, surprised to see Sam stretched out on the sofa half asleep in a way only a feline could. He let out a little sneeze, his eyes opening a slit as he appraised her outfit with a knowing smile. He really enjoyed shopping.
“Come here baby girl...” He motioned for her to stand before him, his movements lazy as he reached for the hidden side zipper. “You look delish, all those rich snobs won’t know what hit them.”
“You know this is a work thing,” she said with a grin.
This was her first contract in months. Well, technically it wasn’t a formal contract, but that couldn’t ruin her mood. She was joining a team of Paladins as security for the charity ‘Children of the Moon,’ an organisation that helped young children who suffered from life-threatening illnesses caused by the vampira virus.
The Gala was held yearly in the Grande Hotel, a sizeable, flashy event that allowed a handful of celebrities and the local wealthy elite who used the limelight generated to showcase their own personal wealth.
“D
oes that mean they have cleared you from medical leave?” Sam asked as he started to play with her hair, curling it around his finger before pining it artfully into a bun.
“I’ve been cleared for weeks.”
Her doctor had declared her healthy and strong enough to get back to work.
Dread, on the other hand, had disagreed.
She had asked daily to get back to the hunt, almost squealed in delight when he had said he needed her for that night.
“That’s it, you go have fun with the uber-rich while I stay home with Mr Shorty over there,” Sam sighed, stepping back to admire his work. “Bloody thing is back, almost gave me a heart attack.”
“What?” She looked at him like he was crazy. “Oh, you mean Jordan?”
“Aye,” he nodded towards the space beneath the stairs.
Following his gaze, she searched beside the cardboard boxes that still held some stuff they were yet to unpack. At this point, she had no idea what was in them, clearly something unimportant if they hadn’t noticed anything missing.
Beside one large box stood Jordan the gnome, his fists clutched tightly around a fishing rod, face frozen into a smile. With his blue coat, green belt and red-capped hat, they had no idea know how he had ended up there. He had just appeared one day and hadn’t left since.
She had tried to return Jordan to Al, his rightful owner, on numerous occasions but the happy fisherman somehow always made his way back. Whether it was sitting by the tree in the garden, hiding in a cupboard in the kitchen or lying on the bottom of the bed, the gnome never left for long. They had no idea how it moved, just knew it could when no one was watching.
They tried not to think too much about it.
“What do you think, Jordan?” She twirled for the gnome. “Don’t I look sophisticated?”
Of course the gnome didn’t reply, just continued to smile wide.
“That good, huh?”
“Stop playing with it, we’re trying to get it to go home,” Sam scolded. “If you keep acknowledging it, it might never want to leave.”
“Don’t be so silly. It’s an inanimate object.”
Witch's Sorrow: A Witch Detective Urban Fantasy (Alice Skye Series Book 1) Page 31