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

by Lucretia Stanhope

  She pushed away her sadness and focused on the present. “So, what will we do when we find the book?”

  “I’ll know the witch I need to focus on. I need to find out what elf she is working with, and what the end goal is. If the purpose was to trigger a war, I’ll have to speak with elf elders. Light elves are not a warlike species. I’m a little confused by that, and you. You shouldn’t even exist.”

  Alice ignored the last comment as she skimmed the words. Again, the book didn’t have any water spells.

  “But if you blame the witches for trying to start a war, isn’t that taking sides?” She followed him to Gretchen’s room.

  Alice shivered as she stepped fully into the room. The vibrations made her queasy. It looked much like the others, but the altar was bigger. Shelves on the far wall held bloody parts in bowls and jars. A thick copper scent hung in the air from whatever she’d sliced up to work with recently. “She’s awful.”

  “No, she is a proper witch. After what happened to Davina, she will step in as priestess and lead this coven.” He used a scolding tone.

  She turned away from the grizzly sights on the shelves. It was easy to tell he felt like she had judged witches and therefore him, so she moved her questions to something that would remind him she was a witch too. “Why do we hate elves so much that they would risk your PPK, whatever it is, nosing around?”

  “Even though for most of modern history, they brush by each other with only disdain exchanged, there is a long bloody history between the two in this area. In other regions, they don’t meet. Elves fight amid themselves and so do witches. Here their worlds intersect. When creatures live under foot of each other, is when problems happen.”

  Alice pulled her attention from the room back to Chester. Problems, like her? Was this about her? “Why do you think now, though?”

  “This newest chapter in the feud is probably about access to the woods, and disagreements over who gets free travel and resources. The coven has a newer priestess and the clan has a newer ruler. Both want more space for their people. Once we stop the war, we will come to fair arrangements that all sides are happy with. It’s the elf variable that will be the sticky part.” He stepped to the altar.

  “Sticky?” A small relief steadied her. Chester didn’t think this was about her and what she was.

  “Light elves have no stake in anything in this area, but they do have a steady feud with dark elves. They are taken and sacrificed in a regular ritual that we don’t interfere with. I was under the impression they would send out weak or ill elves to be taken. I can’t think of a reason for them to come down from the mountain, charm water, and risk retaliation.” Chester grabbed a book from the altar.

  “You allow sacrifice that you are aware of?” Her eyes grew wide. Peacekeepers?

  “It’s not our place to restrict customs that predate the PPK and that don’t interfere with the overall wellbeing of non-supernatural entities.” He handed her the book. “That would be like us policing what animals witches used in spell work.”

  “You should. Witches use non-supernatural beings.” Alice flipped to the end and read over a recipe. Her stomach turned and bile rose. “As these books indicate. I don’t think I’ll ever be a proper witch. It’s not her. That can’t be right. I swear to you, the way she crept around in that swamp and the feeling I got from her… it has to be.”

  “You seem more affected by darker things, Ljósálfr. Do you feel something else?” He knelt at a chest at the foot of the bed. With his hand on the lock, he closed his eyes and muttered. The lock sparked. “Elf? That was light and hurt.”

  She hurried to him. “It’s masking something. I don’t know how I know, but like at the water, it feels like I should.”

  “Open it, we need to be done. Now.” He nudged her toward the lock.

  Alice wrapped her fingers around the cold metal lock, imagining her mind slip into the keyhole and turn the mechanism. A shimmer grew around her and a click filled the silence. When she looked up at him, her eyes held pride and shock. Part of her doubted she could work magic against Gretchen or an elf, much less both.

  “Bravo, little half-witch.” He pushed past her and reached for the book in the chest. It zapped his fingers. “Damn it. Dirty elves.”

  “Don’t hide how you really feel. Shouldn’t your group have sent an unbiased representative?” She let a small laugh escape. “So, wait, does this mean she couldn’t handle her own grimoire?”

  “I am unbiased. I despise everyone who makes my tasks harder equally.” His eyes stayed on the book. “This isn’t her grimoire this is their grimoire. I bet it takes a witch and Ljósálfr to handle it.” A grin filled his face. “Or, a half-elf. Pick it up.”

  When her hand touched the cold leather, she drew it back. No shock. She released the breath she had been holding. “It must be her. How many can there be working with elves?”

  “Grab it. We are out of time.” He closed the box. “Lock it.”

  Alice sat the book down and slipped in the lock again, closing it and wrapping it in a shield of magic. “I think I did that right.” It wasn’t that hard to do. What sort of magic could she do if she trained with an elf? Would there be any elves willing to teach her? Jasper? Decker?

  “Come on.” He grabbed her hand. Once they were in the hall, he relocked the room. “Do you want your family grimoire? You may not get another chance. Even if you work to get the dark elves in accord, since you have stolen this…” He nodded at the book she held. “The witches will never allow you at the negotiations with them, and will kill you on sight.”

  “How can you say that so flippantly? Kill me? You helped.” She followed him, clutching the book to her chest. “I thought we were doing what was needed to stop deaths.”

  “We are. That’s why I will do my best to make sure you never see them alone again. Do you want your family book? Davina won’t be using it.” His tone was playful when he added, “you may one day decide you want to be a witch after all. There is magic in you. Maybe not all elf magic.”

  “Okay, but can you promise me that you won’t let them hurt her?” Her eyes filled with tears. “Will they hurt her because of me?”

  “No. She is a sister witch. They will not hurt her. When she recovers, she will be as much a danger to you as they are.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Wait here. You seem to agitate her.”

  “She’s here? Won’t she know?”

  “No, she’s in no state to know what we did, and what I am doing. She did seem pulled back to awareness by you though. We can’t risk you being in the room with her. They will all think you stole the books, and attacked me, before fleeing into the woods.” He walked away.

  Alice swallowed against the dryness in her throat. Why hadn’t her mom warned her, instead of sending her to die at the hands of her old coven? Did her mom hate her because she was the reason she was banished? Would witches chase her forever?

  The book in her hands hummed with a powerful shield. It reminded her of the sensations at the water, and strange feelings she used to get when she worked with intentions growing up. While she was alone, she let herself cry.

  Was Decker going to be her only ally? Could she fix his water, stop a war, and walk away with all her bits and pieces intact? He would be more suspicious now and think it was all part of a plan.

  Chester came back with a thick leather book like all the others. He held it to her, alone with a rose quartz necklace that Davina usually wore. “Get your bag, put the books inside and grab anything you would miss. The rest will be lost to you. I suggest you make a ward with this too. Davina will recover, how soon we don’t know, but she will be betrayed as your sister witch and your family. Probably the most dangerous witch here to you. You should make sure you haven’t left any personal affects that are dear, hair, or anything that can be used to curse you.”

  “It’s really that dire? She’s my aunt.” When he nodded, she closed her eyes, taking a cleansing breath. “I’m losing everything, and my life is in
danger. How are you so relaxed?”

  He laughed. “Get your bag. Life and death are part of my day more often than not. You get used to it. Gabbing now will get us both killed.”

  She stumbled forward as he shoved her toward her room. As she walked away she muttered, “I’m going.”

  Chester stood in the doorway while Alice grabbed her bag and made a slow round of the room.

  Alice tossed a small bear, and a tattered blanket into her bag. She brushed her hand over the pillow, looking for hairs. Before leaving, she made one more scan of things. “How can I be sure I haven’t left a hair or something? I mean, I have my brush, but people shed.”

  Chester tapped his foot and stepped in, following behind where she checked. “I don’t see anything. I can keep an eye on who comes and goes from this room until they start to use it for other things that will destroy anything we overlooked.”

  “That’s not reassuring. They could hex me. Gretchen is powerful and so is Davina.” Alice’s shoulders slumped as her attention ricocheted from one part of her room to the other.

  “If we don’t get you out of here, a hex will be the least of your worries. I don’t think any other witches will be as personally hurt by your betrayal as Davina or Gretchen. Go grab something of Gretchen’s to make a ward. Hurry.” He grabbed her shoulder and pushed her toward the hall.

  “A ward?” She tripped over her own foot, but didn’t fall. “How do I do that?”

  “Go to the basement.” Chester stormed away in the direction of Gretchen’s room.

  Alice ran to the basement. She paced, chewing her nails. Witches were burned for betraying their coven. Was Chester setting her up? When he walked in she stopped pacing. “Now what?”

  Chester handed her an athame and strode past her, ripping things off the wall and throwing them. “Put that in your bag.”

  “Her altar knife? That’s sacred. What are you doing?” Alice ducked a whip he tossed toward her head.

  “Yes, it is, and was all I could find. Make a ward once you are safe and have the time to do it right. You took it, you understand. If you live, and Maxwell asks, you better not say I took it. I’ll do more than hex you.” He threw a large wooden bat at her.

  “Stop threatening me.” She shoved the knife in her bag. “I need to go before they get back.”

  “First, toss magic at me. Hit me, with that spark stuff.” He stood still with an arm raised, shielding his face. “Now.”

  The tone he used urged her on. She focused all her anger and frustration at him. A wave of sparks caught his arm and shirt on fire.

  Alice dropped her bag and rushed over, patting it out. “I’m sorry.”

  He laughed, and pushed her away. “It’s perfect. Take that bat and hit me. Not in the face, but hard. Break something.”

  “What?”

  “Now. They won’t believe you got away from me unless I am in bad shape. I need to be in the woods chasing you with broken and bleeding bits.” He pulled the table over.

  Alice leaned down and grabbed the bat. She swung it at his leg. It smacked his knee, but he remained upright.

  “Good idea. I can’t chase too fast, if you do that with a bit more effort.” He grinned at her. “Come on, half-elf. Show me how much I’ve annoyed you. Show me if you have any witch under those doe-eyes.”

  Alice swung again, this time taking him to his knees. “You disgusting, hateful witch. Peacekeeper, indeed.” While she talked, she swung several more times, stopping when she saw she hit him so hard he was retching. “God. I’m sorry. Let me help you.”

  “Go, now, run.” He spoke through clenched teeth, and rolled over, groaning.

  Alice dropped the bat, and picked up her bag, flinging it over her shoulder. She took the stairs two at a time. Her heart pounded with fear. She couldn’t sense any witches near yet, but only hesitated a second at the door.

  “I’m sorry, Davina.” The apology was only a whisper, but she hoped it would float up and reach her aunt.

  Fresh cool air blew in when she opened the door, but it didn’t blow away the weight of the moment. If she stepped outside and ran away with the grimoires and Gretchen’s blade, she would never be accepted in another coven again.

  Her boots crunched leaves as she left the porch.

  They never accepted you to begin with, half-elf. Tears stung her eyes as she hiked deeper into the woods. Would Decker let her back in the cave? She picked up her pace. Her hand slipped in her pocket, hiding from the cold, and found the stone.

  They would let her in. Jasper saw her helping them. Jasper would let her in. He gave her the light stone as a gesture of friendship, hadn’t he? No, not friendship, but something. It was all she had.

  Chapter Nine

  JASPER STOOD IN the pitch of the infirmary room. The scent of death overpowered the usual aromas of herbs and elixirs.

  When he left to gather supplies, less than ten minutes ago, all three men were alive. Only two faint auras hummed under the healer’s stronger one. A twisting warmth navigated up his spine. Who had died?

  Decker’s eyes moved under their closed lids.

  Jasper’s shoulders relaxed. It wasn’t Decker.

  To his left, one of the guards lay motionless. His black eyes stared beyond everything with the blankness of death. A grimace remained on his face, leaving evidence of the painful demise.

  The second guard moaned, and coughed. Clear fluid sputtered from his mouth. The liquid dripped down his chin, and pooled behind his neck.

  The healer focused on Decker, who slipped in and out. Using a long wooden tool, he wiped Decker’s forehead and put the stick in a solution on the bedside table. He balled his hand. “Damn it.”

  Jasper sat berries from his personal stash, and a paste mixture he’d made to connect with Decker, on a table. He made noise to alert the healer to his presence, but not enough to disturb the sick men. “I brought the elderberries. I only had one bunch left.”

  “Thank you. I’ll give it to him.” The healer picked up the berries with two fingers. “It’s better than nothing. They are both losing fluid.”

  “Has he said anything?” Jasper leaned closer to Decker. A weak vibration brushed his aura. The stench of light magic hovered around him. That couldn’t be good. “Are they feverish? His skin is glowing. Do you smell that?”

  The healer huffed and waved a hand. “I’d wager it’s toxins his body is pushing out. Don’t touch it.”

  Jasper moved away and lowered his voice. “Did he say anything?”

  “Nothing useful. He’s delirious. He repeated Alice a few times, and asked for you.” The healer crushed the berries while he talked. “Mostly, he’s muttering incoherently.” He scooped the berry mash into a cup and added a sludgy gray fluid.

  “I should try for a connection. It might make it easier for him to communicate.” Jasper glanced toward the other man, who was in the throes of a coughing fit.

  “I’m not sure he has the strength to endure another presence in his mind. I won’t let you endanger him further.” The healer rushed past Jasper. He wrapped his hand in a blanket, before nudging Decker. “Sir, drink this.”

  Decker groaned. His eyes flicked open. A crease formed between his brows as he focused on Jasper. “Ali…” He was unable to finish the word as he heaved.

  “Drink.” The healer held the glass to his mouth, and tipped it. “You should go. You are distressing him.”

  Decker took a sip, gagged, and swallowed, before leaning back. “Al…” He tried to talk, but was overcome by a coughing fit. “Al... Le…”

  “Relax, sir.” Jasper turned toward the healer. “I don’t think he has the strength for me not to make a link. He’s trying to tell us something.” He frowned. Decker would keep trying. Stubborn.

  “Ever so gentle.” The healer nodded at the dead elf and glared at Jasper. “That can’t happen to him. If he dies while you are working your magic in his mind, you will be responsible. You understand the penalty?”

  “I do. I will take that
risk.” Jasper wiped a cross on his own forehead. He wrapped his finger in the corner of the blanket, and dipped it in the mixture. Once he had enough on the cloth, he made a cross on Decker’s forehead. “Forgive the intrusion, sir.”

  Decker closed his eyes and stopped trying to talk.

  Jasper sat the mixture aside. Was Decker’s relaxation a sign of permission to enter his mind? Just skim the surface. Whatever Decker was desperate to say would be easy to find.

  Alice will help. Go get her.

  Jasper whispered his reply, not wanting to push thoughts in Decker’s fragile state. “I can’t leave, sir. Where is she? What happened?”

  Witches. Took. Alice, her blood.

  “Sir, witches did something to you? How can we heal you?” His voice held a hint of panic. If Alice had the answers and she was on the other side of the poison with witches, Decker would die.

  She will come. Her blood.

  Decker groaned and rolled into a ball. He coughed and shivered.

  “That’s enough. Get what you need and stop tormenting him.” The healer shoved Jasper on his shoulder.

  “Sir…” Jasper hesitated when Decker growled. A wave of agony raced across their connection. He clutched his stomach as Decker’s pain flooded his senses. Before another rush came, he broke the link.

  The healer cursed as the other elf convulsed and rolled out of the bed. “Easy.” He grabbed a sheet and caught him before he flipped all the way out.

  Jasper gathered himself and helped, making sure he also had a layer between his hands and the dying man. “He’s worse.”

  After they settled the man, they walked to the corner.

  Worry creased the corners of the healer’s mouth. “He’ll die soon. The other one did that twice, and he was gone. What did you find? We are running out of time and those berries will only boost his natural immunities so much.”