Winter Blood: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Coldharbour Chronicles Book 4)

by Richard Amos

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  About the Author

  Also by Richard Amos

  Copyright © 2019 Richard Amos

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Cover by JMN Art

  Formatting by Gina Formats Words

  Chapter One

  Ashwood Manor was wrapped in silk like a fly snared in a spider web, waiting for the eight-legged hunter to come and get eating.

  “At least you’ve seen a picture already,” Nay said. “I promise it looks better than this normally.”

  I had. It was a huge mansion, much like my home, but gray and really laying on the gothic grandeur. The grounds were vast and a forest surrounded it—miles and miles of trees covered in snow. It was quite pretty, despite the current sticky affliction.

  I opened the front passenger window and leaned out. Man, it was cold on this gray Valentine’s Day morning, snowfall coming once again to Coldharbour. It wasn’t as bad as it had been back during the shadow twin attack at Christmas, but I wasn’t happy to see it. Roll on spring!

  “You would never know there’d been a dragon attack,” I noted.

  There was no sign of fire damage from Lilisian’s now-deceased pet fire-breathing beast. Just like the rest of Coldharbour. The damage had been repaired by goblin magic, the memory wiped away by a combination of Dean’s fae magic added with Nay’s witch spells, and the continuous work of the tech and magic over the city to keep the lie going that the city was like any other city rather than the deadly playground it was.

  Me and my guardians had come to help the werewolves out. They had themselves a beast problem that’d got out of hand quickly. Eric was with us—one of the few shape-shifters not trapped inside Ashwood Manor by these beasts. There were three wolves covering the Rainbow Mile area while we were here in the west of the city.

  As for the beasts that had made this sticky mess—they were something else. Gross as fuck too.

  I remembered the image on the beast app again. “I can’t get over this.”

  “I know, babe,” Nay agreed.

  The beasts in the manor had the body of a spider, a tarantula the size of a Labrador, with the back end of a silkworm growing out of it. And it had about twenty red eyes.

  I wasn’t looking forward to meeting them in the flesh.

  My white sparks were spitting hungrily, craving to unleash some beast-killing damage.

  Things had changed in Coldharbour ever since the dragon attack. Where the wolves had stuck to their western territory, pretty much, they now were fully teamed up with us. Eric and Bliss were two regular attendees at the mansion. They came on regular patrols of the coastal part of the city, as did the werewolf Ben from time to time. The other members of the pack covered other areas of Coldharbour as best they could too. It still wasn’t enough to protect every inch of the city, to save everyone from death, but we were an army preparing to go to war. The only problem was, getting over into the beast realm had some obstacles to conquer—the gates were heavily guarded now. Also, there was still the ongoing mystery of how I was going to break the curse on Coldharbour. War was still brewing.

  All in good time.

  Lilisian had yet to make her next move, but we were so ready for her. Not just us and the werewolves, but the goblins too. Sure, the beast Supreme would be at full capacity now, but we were determined to save our world from her beastly hands. I would kill her, no doubt about that.

  “Let’s do this,” Greg said. He got out of the car and pushed open the locked iron gates as if they were nothing using his golem strength. The chain binding them snapped like weak rope, clattering to the ground.

  Bliss was trapped inside along with the rest of the pack. Greg and Bliss were an item … sort of. He wasn’t sure what it was, he’d told me, apart from hot sex. Same with Dean and me. We had hot sex, snuggled up when done, and were just taking this thing between us day by day. The fact that today was Valentine’s Day had not escaped me, though there had been no grand gestures of romance. That was good. We were still where we were—seeing where things went. I was happy with that, even if something at the back of my mind niggled at me. It was guilt, for once, I knew that much. Thank God for that!

  Greg and Nay still didn’t know about me and Dean. God knows how we’d managed to keep it a secret. Well, Greg had said he was pleased we’d obviously talked about our issues and seemed to be getting on again.

  Yeah, very well indeed.

  I didn’t know why I was keeping my lips zipped. It wasn’t like it was a dirty little secret. I just … wasn’t ready.

  Greg got back in the car and drove up the gravel driveway to the manor. I could see every bit of the tension in his jaw, in the way his hands gripped the steering wheel.

  I turned to face Eric, worry on his dark face. “We’ll sort this,” I reassured him.

  He smiled weakly and nodded. “I know. Just … I wish I’d been here.”

  The pack had recently lost a wolf called Misty—slain by Lilisian. Grief was rife amongst the wolves no matter the laughs we’d had with Bliss and Eric in the mansion’s recreation room on many a night.

  “Right,” Greg said as he brought the car to a stop. He flung open the door.

  I got out and headed toward Ashwood Manor’s main doors.

  Bloody hell, the silky crap was really laid on thick. It dripped with glittery gloop, pooling all over the floor. I couldn’t see the gray stone of the building beneath it.

  “No silkylegs yet,” Nay offered, scanning the manor.

  She’d named them two years ago, having encountered a solitary one in a pub. Wendy, Dean’s predecessor and a woman I hadn’t met due to her being murdered, had gathered intel on their behavior, using magical tools to conduct research that made my bloody head hurt. She used a lot of words in her notes that I swear were not real. The crux of it was that they operated in large numbers, the lone one from the pub somehow cut off from the main group. So, in Ashwood there would be loads of them. Yeah, that was all sorts of spidery fun I was looking forward to.

  Not.

  The research specimen was locked in a reinforced steel box over at the facility—a beast prison I was due to make my debut visit to any day now.

  My beast-slaying sparks flashed and spat. “So, I start by putting my hands in the web?”

  “That’s right, babe,” Nay answered. “Greg!” she snapped. “Don’t you dare touch it.”

  “I wasn’t!”

  “You were.
”

  “Wasn’t!”

  “I know you’re desperate to get in there, but you need to wait. Jake’s got this.”

  Greg let out a heavy sigh. “I know.”

  I did have this. I rolled my shoulders and got to it, plunging my hand into the web.

  My sparks got to work quickly, spreading with the unrelenting frenzy of wildfire. Up every strand went millions of sparking soldiers, devouring everything. Soon, the whole of Ashwood Manor was an inferno of glowing sparks, a blinding light display that made me proud.

  From inside the building came the outraged shrieks of beasts.

  Shit.

  The job of the sparks was done. Ashwood Manor was back to its dominant gray self. Man, it was a proper fortress. Every window was dark though, no signs of life inside.

  Please, don’t be dead! Don’t let them lose another wolf …

  Greg was already at the wooden doors.

  Silkylegs hated the cold. They’d obviously chosen Ashwood as their new digs to shelter from the winter from wherever they had been before—the gross gits were supposed to hibernate according to the late Wendy’s research. God, that means there could be a location somewhere with the husks of victims littered all over the place. Damn. I couldn’t think about that.

  Something had disturbed them, and they needed a new place to bunk down. This was the perfect spot. Well, that was tough bloody luck. Just call me pest control. These vile beasties were going down.

  “Ready when you are, babe,” Nay said to Greg.

  Eric was naked. Within the next few seconds he was a copper wolf, ready for action. He snarled at the manor.

  It took Greg three heavy charges with his shoulder to break down the heavy doors. His strength never failed to impress me.

  A silkyleg sprang into action immediately, pouncing for Greg. Its legs were spread, its fangs like kitchen knives, and the silkworm part of its body spat sticky strands in wild bursts.

  I got hit in the face but grabbed the mess and fizzled it away before any further action rendered me, well, anything unfortunate.

  I really hated bugs. Bees were cool, but not creepy or gross things. I just couldn’t deal.

  Greg had the silkyleg by one of its eight legs and smacked it really bloody hard against the ground. A wet crunch followed that made me wince. He proceeded to stamp on it as more of the yucky beasts came out to join the showdown. Eric was tearing into one of his own, avoiding web splatters.

  What happened to hibernating? Why weren’t they all drowsy and easy pickings? Bastards!

  Nay threw a potion and it let off white gas of chilly proportions. It acted like a cold wind, rushing through the doors to give them all a freezing kiss.

  “Go!” She charged and got to fighting.

  The beasts were startled but now slowed down. This was a distraction, not a solution. I was the solution.

  I grabbed the furry head of a silkyleg and was taken to its inner sanctum—the place of fog and a gold diamond-shaped light that was its essence. I had a VIP pass to this place—the only VIP pass in the world. I hurried to that light and administered my killing touch.

  Back in the action, golden shards falling off my hands, I got another face-load of web just as three of the fuckers decided to tackle me at once.

  Fine.

  I unleashed my inky shield; the cool rush of water was an awesome sensation. The cocoon instantly repelled the beasts off me, along with their silk.

  Using fire was not an option on these things. Nay had some nifty flaming potions, but it had no effect on them. In fact, they thrived on heat. It was cold all the way.

  My witch friend lobbed another one of her potions.

  I surged forward into the main hall, killing another two. Shit! They were everywhere! This was gonna take some time.

  After killing another three, I got snagged by web and yanked up to the ceiling. My body was being rolled, spun into silk by a silkyleg that hissed at me, layering me up quickly. It’d caught me in a way that my hands were sticking out of the silky sack.

  Yeah, I don’t think so!

  I brought the shield up again, breaking the web and falling to the ground. My cocoon saved me, stopping me from breaking my face on the floor.

  As soon as I dropped the shield, I was grabbed again. This time there was no clever hand binding. I simply burned away the silk with my sparks before I was taken very high, landing gracefully on my feet once free.

  A silkyleg leapt at me and I punched it, delivering a swift right hook taught to me by my guardians. All those hours training in the gym helped to improve my fighting skills every day. Being able to give my enemies a decent punch in the wherever was an awesome reward for all my efforts.

  “You okay?” Dean asked as he flew past me, drop-kicking a beast.

  “Yeah, I’m good.” I grabbed the beast I’d punched and quickly did my killing thing. “What about you?” I asked a few moments later when I returned.

  “Wish I was back in bed with you.” He got silk to the face, and I destroyed it before anything could happen. “It was so cozy there.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Another beast to kill.

  Naomi threw two cold potions. The beasts were really in a panicked frenzy now but not giving up.

  “This is gonna be hard work,” I said to Dean just as I vanished to the place of fog.

  He was twisting the arse of a silkworm when I returned, its sticky spray going everywhere.

  “Need some help?” I drawled.

  He frowned at me as I killed the monstrosity.

  Chapter Two

  The fighting carried on through the manor, into different rooms, down corridors and on stairwells. This place was huge, and so was the number of silkylegs.

  Dean and I were on the first floor, working our way down the west wing to try and find the trapped werewolves. My companions couldn’t kill beasts, but they could certainly do them some immense damage. I’d go and add the finishing touches as and when this bollocks was over.

  A part of me wondered if this had something to do with Lilisian, if she’d orchestrated a distraction. Was it just another beast attack, like many others that happened across the city? The fact that this was happening to the werewolves made alarm bells ring. But a call to help was a call to help, and there’d been nothing as of yet to suggest that this was anything other than, well, gross.

  Bursting through the doors of a large bedroom, I met a room loaded with web. It entangled me briefly before it got a dose of sparks. Three men dropped from the ceiling, one of them smashing a poker table to pieces as his heavy bulk came crashing down. Poker chips flew all over the place.

  “Bloody hell!” I cried.

  The men were on their feet seconds later. It was Doug, Liam and Peter.

  “Thanks,” Doug said—one of the three bearded red-heads. They were triplets. “Fuckers!” He roared and charged out of the room to join the fighting, as did his siblings, shifting to wolf and destroying their clothes.

  Eric had once told me no werewolf owns anything expensive. Designer labels are out when you’re in the transformation game.

  I ran out into the hallway, hot on the heels of the brothers. Dean was mid-backflip, ending with him kicking a beast down the hall, a werewolf triplet grabbing it in its jaws, shaking it violently like a ragdoll meeting a pissed off Rottweiler.

  “Nice one!” I praised my half-fae guardian.

  “Cheers.”

  I killed another two beasts.

  A werewolf came bounding up to me—one of three auburn ones. It shifted into a naked Liam. “Just found Bliss. Come quick!” He shifted and took off.

  Shit! Please let her be okay!

  Dean and I followed quickly.

  In another bedroom, again full of web, a silkyleg was on a cocooned body caught in the sticky trap on the celling. The door was completely blocked off with silk. I could see her, Bliss, her usually pale face ashen. Her eyes were closed and there was blood dripping down the strands of silk, pooling on the
floor.

  There was no other beast in the room, and the werewolves were useless against the hurdle of thick web, growling, desperate to get to their fellow pack member.

  I destroyed the web. The silkyleg and Bliss tumbled onto the bed below where they’d just been.

  The wolves moved, and I moved with them.

  I ducked as a spray of silk came at me. One of the wolf brothers got itself pinned to the wall as the other two tore into the beast. It shrieked and hissed and writhed as the silkworm part split open, spilling white slime everywhere.

  Dean hurried over to Bliss as I freed the pinned wolf and went over to his brothers. “Lads,” I said. “Let me.”

  The wolves, muzzles stained white, stopped immediately, joining their unpinned brother.

  I killed the mutilated silkyleg and hurried over to Bliss on my return from the place of fog.

  Shit. Bliss was emaciated and gray, the scar on her face a devilish black, blood spurting from two puncture wounds in her belly.

  Dean pulled out a vial of healing potion—Nay had insisted every one of my guardians carry at least one in the field. He popped the top and poured the milky solution into Bliss’s mouth.

  “Come on,” I whispered. “Don’t be dead.”

  The wolf brothers howled and went on the attack as more beasts came into the room.

  “Crap.”

  “Go,” Dean said. “I’ll watch her.”

  I had to be available for web disposal.

  “Don’t leave the hallway,” he added. “I’ll try calling Greg.”

  As I left the room, I heard Bliss cough and relief flooded me. Coughing was a good sign.

  The west wing was clear. I waited with the wolf triplets for another wave of beasts. None came. Dean had got hold of Greg, the call cut off within five seconds of him answering. He’d been told enough, and I could hear the fighting coming from other parts of the building. They’d need me to help clear up. Crap! What if Greg and Nay were tangled up—