Tainted Waters: A Dark Paranormal Fantasy Novel (Paranormal Peacekeepers Book 1)

by Lucretia Stanhope

  The faint light danced across his unusual lines. Sharp, distinctive, dangerous. “Yes, thank you for taking me to the light. I was scared.”

  “Danger isn’t over yet, sweet.” His tone was flat. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he studied her. He ran a finger over her cheek. “Go.” The tenderness he used on her face vanished as he shoved her into the room.

  The rock inside the chamber was luminescent. Chains and metal devices lined shelves and wall racks. What were they covered with? Rust? Was it blood? She raised her hand to her mouth, covering a squeak. “No.”

  “Yes.” He took one side step and blocked the door.

  Her attention flicked from him, back to the devices hung on the wall. She stepped deeper into the room, away from him, and the uncanny smile growing on his face. “What is this? I don’t want the nettle.” She hid behind a rack. “Please, whatever you want to know, I will tell you. This isn’t necessary.”

  “I’m glad you understand. Now we can talk about why you are here, and what you’ve done to my water.” He waved a hand, whispered three words, and the door vanished.

  Alice sucked in a breath. She shook her head while she talked. “I don’t know about your water. Please, don’t hurt me. There is nothing to tell.” She contemplated magic, but remembered his warning. She looked around for something to defend herself with. It would be silly to try and out power him.

  “What sort of a witch are you?” He rubbed his fingers together and stepped closer. “I see water in those hideous eyes. Are you a water witch?”

  “Please, don’t.” She blinked back tears.

  He drew in an audible breath and exhaled slowly. Metal scraped against metal as he pulled something off the wall. “I am going to explain once how this works. Because I’m intrigued by you, this first inadequate response will go unpunished.” He ran his fingers over a thin sawblade. “I will ask a question; you will answer it. If you fail to answer it, I will hurt you until you do so. What sort of a witch are you?”

  “Water, training to be a water witch.” Her voice trembled. Now he would really think she had done something. He was obsessed with his water. Didn’t his oracle say someone bewitched the water? “I didn’t mess with your water though.”

  He stood still, watching her, half hidden behind the rack.

  “What happens now?” she asked. His silence made her more nervous than his insults.

  “You convince me not to have fun with figuring out what makes you work.” Decker edged closer. The saw dangled from one of his fingers.

  She felt his intentions grow dark. Say something, anything. “I… I could look at your water.” Why had she offered that? She only had a basic understanding of water spells. If some powerful witch put a spell on his water, could she undo it.

  His tongue wrapped up over his teeth and flicked at his top lip. “I could look at my water. Question is, can you fix it?”

  “Well, I…”

  He cleared the distance between them in seconds. His fingers wrapped roughly in her hair. The ragged edge of the blade pressed against her skin. “Can you fix it?”

  “I can try.” She winced as he tightened his grip in her hair and tossed her on the ground.

  “That’s a start. Who sent you for the ever-important nettle you keep on about?” His aura popped her as his agitation heightened his magic.

  “I told you, the coven. It’s a hazing.”

  “Hazing? Is that some magic spell?”

  “No, it’s to prove my worth, or commitment to them.” She got on her hands and knees.

  He laughed deeply, and kicked her back to the floor. “They send you to face death? For a plant? Do you think I am foolish? Were you supposed to bring back my ear?”

  “Nettle, the plant. I wouldn’t hurt anyone, anything.” She wiped her hands on her jeans. “Please, can’t you use your magic, or trust your oracle that I am not a threat. I’m not a danger to anyone.”

  “No, you don’t appear shrewd enough to be a danger.” His nose twitched. “Alice, the good witch.”

  One side of his mouth rose into a snarl. “Answers will save your life.” He dropped the saw, and drew his dagger.

  She ducked away. Did he need weapons? Every part of him was sharp, deadly, designed to scar and kill. “I’ve given you answers.”

  “What did you feel under the water where you were dancing?” The sound of his blade slipping into the sheath punctuated his words.

  “I slipped.” She peeked out from behind the rack.

  His jaw muscles tensed and his eyes grew wider. The black depths held no answers for her.

  “It’s magical,” she added.

  “It is. What else?”

  She swallowed against a lump rising up her throat. “It’s cold, refreshing. I didn’t get any sense it was a danger.”

  He groaned. “Nor would you, and I shouldn’t expect water safe for me would be too pleasing to your palate, or survivable. It’s infused with light.” He held his hands at his waist, one over the other, fingers tapping rapidly. “Can you undo magic, if I travel with you to the source?”

  “I… maybe. I’m an apprentice.”

  “Why would a coven send an apprentice to face such hazards?”

  “It doesn’t make sense.” Her shoulders dropped. Had her coven sent her to die on purpose?

  “No, it doesn’t. When things don’t ring true, it’s because they aren’t.”

  “But I’m telling you the truth.”

  “As you know it to be.” He walked over and stood less than an inch from her. “Let’s come to terms. You fix my water, and I won’t eat your still-beating heart.” He raised both eyebrows.

  Inside, a tremor of fear raced from head to toe. Externally, she squared her shoulders and leveled her tone. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  He pulled a clump of her hair under his nose. “So sweet. Fine, you fix my water, and I’ll leave all your pretty bits and parts intact.”

  Alice glanced around the room again. The sawblade he’d dropped caught her attention. Was he considering chopping her up? Could she trust he wouldn’t?

  Chapter Three

  “AFTER I LOOK at the water, will you take me home?” Alice stared at the knife Decker placed on the table. How many creatures had he sliced up with it? Was there anything in her reach, in case he attacked? A shiver raced over her as she surveyed one death device after another.

  Decker’s gaze followed hers, landing on several of the interrogation devices. “That remains to be determined. Come here.” He flicked two fingers toward himself.

  With a tone like that, did anyone ever disobey him? She moved back. Survival instinct? “What do you want?”

  “You to come here, now. If you wish to end this on the rack, that would be most enjoyable for me.” He rested his top teeth over his bottom lip. “I do wonder how your screams of agony would sound. Stay where you are and I’ll find out faster.”

  She didn’t move. A knot formed at the base of her neck. Her senses sharpened. The bristle of his magic filled the musty air. The stench of rot and rusty iron burned her nose.

  He stretched his neck from side to side, creating an echo of cracks as his joints popped. “Come here.”

  Her head jerked back and forth. “No. No.”

  “It’s my understanding that witch’s tears are very powerful, especially when deep agony is fused with them. Tell me no again.” His smirk grew, raising his sharp cheeks.

  She stepped to him, looking away from his unnerving face.

  “Enebrium, placetium, denubriuth.” While he enunciated each word, repeating the words three times, he made a circle around her. A cold cloud formed, swirled, and pressed against them.

  “What are you doing?” Alice shivered, and backed up. Her shoulder hit something metal with spikes. She jerked away.

  “Binding you. I can’t very well have witches flinging magic about indiscriminately.” He nodded to a wooden table that had restraints for both hands and feet on either end. “You can sleep
there. I’ll be back when I’m ready to travel.”

  “Wait, sleep there?” Her mouth dropped open. “You’ve bound me, powerless. Can’t you at least give me some place to wait that isn’t covered in gore?”

  He cocked his head. “Come now. Witches work magic with bloody bits. Don’t feign squeamish with me.”

  “I’ve never done anything with blood, or bits.” She looked from him to the metal devices, so worn from use that they no longer gleamed.

  “No bloody bits? You are most peculiar. Does your white light temper the witch? Is that why they haven’t trained you?” He walked over and pinched her ear, one side of his lip curling up. “You don’t look elf at all. Sad.”

  “Elf? I’m not like you. I’m a human, a witch. In training.” The tension in her shoulders eased when he let her step away from his touch.

  “Sure you are.” He raked his eyes over her, stopping at her face. “You may not look elf, but you can’t hide that nasty white light from me.”

  Alice closed her eyes. His gaze was as awful as his touch. “You are mistaken about everything. You will see.”

  “Witches aren’t just human.” His head turned toward the rack. “Not an elf? Why lie? What are you hiding? Did you know both your parents?”

  “Yes, I did. Why would you think I was an elf? I can’t see down here. I don’t have your monstrous pallor. Nor the nasty attitude.” She stepped back further. It probably wasn’t best to get snippy with him. Not until she had a plan. “When are we going to your water? I want to go home.”

  He backed her into the corner. “You are elf. The sweet scent of white elf is unmistakable. Same as the bitter smell of witch. Didn’t they teach you about your natural enemy?”

  Alice dropped her gaze. He was as crazy as he was nasty. “Take me to your water.”

  He let loose a deep laugh. “We will go soon enough. Get some rest, you’ll need it for the journey.”

  “Wait, don’t leave me in this death room.” Alice heard the panic rise in her voice. It couldn’t be good to show him more fear. “I demand a better room.”

  “You demand?” He shook his head, and walked through the wall.

  Alice ran behind him, and touched the rock. Solid, cold rock. She ran her hands along the length of it. Where was the opening? “Decker?”

  He left her, alone. Was that bad? She wiped the sweat from her hands onto her jeans, and turned back to the room.

  The soft glow from the rocks allowed her to get a better look at the knife Decker left sitting out. She leaned closer and gasped. Her first assessment of gore covering the things was correct.

  “Monsters. Why did they send me to monsters?” Her fingers trembled as she reached for the blade. Before she touched it, she drew her hand back. After staring at it a long moment, she turned away.

  On the far wall was the restraint table he’d suggested she rest on. Alice walked over and noticed the blood stains on the wood surface and around the edges of the restraints. Her hands rested on the hard surface and she closed her eyes, pushing away images of what must have happened in there.

  A long breath in and out relieved the tension in her neck. She turned and looked at the other things. The whips looked pleasant compared to the spiked ball on a chain and metal handle that hung beside them.

  She swallowed hard and walked over to the rack she’d hid behind. It was a large wooden cross with rings. Her fingers traced the rings. How many people or creatures had been tied there? Or worse, died there? How close had she come to being one of them?

  The sound of her heartbeat thumped loud in her ears. A chill raced over her. Her attempt at a calming breath drew the scent of iron into her nostrils. Blood? That is the smell of blood. Fresh or old didn’t matter. Gray rimmed the edges of her vision.

  “No.” She wasn’t going to die there. Her hand dropped from the rings and she spun around. There must be something in the room she could use against Decker.

  On the other wall, she found vises and tools that looked more suited for pulling off parts. As her thoughts drifted to darker places, she walked back to the wall and searched for the door again. “Think, Alice.”

  Her hands ran over the wall. Solid. Now what? Didn’t the oracle say this room was a shield of magic. If that were the case, she could try to break Decker’s binding without him knowing.

  Alice closed her eyes, using her mind’s eye to see exactly what he did to her. She wasn’t formally trained in all aspects of magic, but had been playing with her abilities since she was a little girl. A coldness wrapped her. He’d done that. Her coven’s magic appeared as a script, as if reading the spell used. No words came to her. Dark vine-like strings with no words formed a braided tether around her.

  A counter spell wouldn’t work. The words he said rushed forward, but meant nothing to her. Alice pulled up the image of the vines again, and studied it closer.

  Once she memorized the image, she unraveled the strings with imagined fingers. The vines fell away. A few more tugs, and the cold dropped away with the last binding.

  “Not the adept mage you claim to be, are you, Decker?” She punctuated her words with an indignant snort.

  She stood taller, walked back to the wall, and placed her hands on it again, trying to see his magic to unravel. A similar cold darkness saturated the rock. Alice pressed a finger hard against the wall, imagining it pierce his illusion.

  A shot of pain raced up her arm. The wall shimmered and a wave of magic knocked her back.

  After a deep breath, she walked over again and put her hands back on the wall. Touching it didn’t cause pain. She dug her fingers in. The result was the same. Reaching through his illusion wasn’t going to work.

  Alice chewed her lip and took a few steps back. She narrowed her eyes on the wall, and sat on the ground with her legs crossed.

  As a little girl, she used to weave her own illusions, mostly castles and unicorns. It had to be similar. She never used casting or chanting to do so. Whenever she wanted to make something, she would focus and pull light from inside herself, projecting it out.

  Half-light. He’d called her that a few times. Was that some sort of a witch with a special magic he could sense? He also called her an elf, which she knew wasn’t right.

  “Try something.” Unlocking the room was her first priority. After that, she could figure out her way to the surface.

  Alice drew light from herself as her mother taught her, and projected it toward the wall, thinking it would at least magically illuminate what he did, so she could unravel it. It did not illuminate the magic, but it did make the rocks in the wall glow brighter.

  “Well, at least you don’t have to be afraid of the dark.” She laughed and stood up, pacing to clear her mind. There had to be something she could do to get out of there before the monster came back.

  “WHAT EXACTLY DID you see?” Decker paced the room where Jasper worked with some oils and herbs.

  Jasper used a glass stick to stir the oil mixture, then looked up from his work. “I saw her and you at the source.”

  “And?” Decker stopped walking, and turned to him. “Don’t make me drag it from you.”

  “Of course, sir. I saw her working magic at the source. I saw her in your arms. I saw beautiful, black water.” Jasper held up both hands to show they were empty. “That’s all. Didn’t you pull some information from her mind while you questioned her?”

  “I did not. If she can fix the water, I don’t want to damage her, yet.” He paced again, his boots crunching on the rocky ground. “What does it mean to mix both light elf and witch? Seems as incompatible as mixing dark and light elves.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a creature. I wouldn’t have believed it, if I hadn’t been inside of her myself.” Jasper’s face lit with a smile. “Wait until you slip inside her mind.”

  “Stop grinning. If I slip in her mind, it won’t be anything to smile about.” He closed his eyes, thinking about the long journey to the source. It would be even longer dragging a witch behind him.
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  “No, sir, of course not.”

  Decker eyed Jasper, whose smile melted under the weight of his glare. “Oracle tongue is much sought after in witch circles. I could trade it for a water blessing, I’m sure.”

  Jasper added a pinch of brown leaves and swirled his mixture in the glass jar. He sat it down and gave Decker his full attention after nothing happened. “Will you be taking her to the source? Alone?”

  “Of course, alone. I can’t trust her with lesser mages.” Decker tapped a finger on the jar. Maybe he needed a new oracle.

  “There is no malice in her soul. Not a bit. Most unique when it wraps…” Jasper hardened his tone. “She’s not trained.”

  “I gathered as much. That doesn’t bode well for her fixing our water.” His boot tapped the floor while he thought. “She couldn’t undo a simple binding that a child could have removed.”

  “I’ll divine some more, but the little I’ve glimpsed, tells me you will find the answers, not me.” Jasper poured oil, filling a new jar halfway. He crushed leaves. “She’s afraid of you. A frightened witch is a strange creature.”

  The minty scent from the leaves wafted up at him. “She should be terrified. I’m tempted to take her apart to find out which bits are elf. We could use her for the freeze ritual, unless we need a pure light.”

  Jasper swirled the leaves in the oil. Two tendrils of smoke rose from the jar, twirling around each other. “Sir, the water?”

  Decker jerked both shoulders up and cocked his head. “I’m curious. I’d like to see what makes her tick. I’ve examined a lot of things, but I’ve never played with a witch. Wouldn’t you like to know what happens when witch and light mix? Curious.”

  “You never leave them ticking.” The last mixture sat defiantly unreactive. Jasper sighed.

  “No, I don’t. How can she not know about elves? Wouldn’t her parents… Surely she’d notice one was different.” He walked over and looked at the vials of the water Jasper had been putting samples of his various mixtures in. With two fingers, he plucked one from its stand and swirled it. Clear, fresh water. A frown filled his face. He would have to let her live long enough to determine if she could fix the water. “Why would a light elf mix with witches? Seems dangerous.”