The DarkWorld SkinWalker Series Box Set Vol II: The SkinWalker Series Books 4, 5 & 6: Blood Promise, Scorched Fury, & Fate's Edge (DarkWorld: SkinWalker)

by T. G. Ayer

  “How long has he been dead?” asked Baz, staring at Angelo, eyes wide.

  I shrugged, curling my shaking fingers into tight fists. But I couldn’t hide the tremor in voice. “He’s very cold. Maybe it’s just the temperature of the room.”

  Was I trying to convince myself that he could still be alive?

  “Someone came into the room,” I said. “And unstrapped him, and took him away on a gurney. But I can’t be sure that he was alive at that time.”

  “He could already have been dead when you were watching him being taken away.” Mel was being reasonable.

  I didn’t want reasonable. It didn’t make a difference to me now how long he’d been dead.

  It only mattered that Anjelo was gone.

  Chapter 57

  MEL TRANSPORTED US BACK TO my father’s house, bringing Anjelo’s body with us. He deserved a proper Panther funeral and we’d need to notify his mother. Stella Alvarez lived two doors down and often came by to help her alpha with his chores. I wasn’t looking forward to telling her that I’d failed her.

  That Anjelo had died on my watch.

  We arrived in the kitchen, our shoes swishing in the water that covered the terra-cotta tiled floor. I hoped it meant Logan’s freezing process was being reversed.

  A trail of droplets led into the front hall and up the wooden staircase.

  “Help me get him to the smaller lounge.” I tipped my head up the hall trying not to look at Anjelo’s unmoving face. He looked like he was sleeping, and my entire being wanted to scream out at the unfairness of it all.

  Why Anjelo?

  I forced myself to focus as Mel nodded and disappeared with Anjelo’s body. She returned seconds later. “I’ve left him on one of the sofas. It didn’t seem right to leave him on the floor.”

  I gave her a bleak nod and she responded with a weak smile. “I hate to desert you, but I really have to go now.”

  “Thank you, Mel,” I said. Despite my lack of enthusiasm, I did mean it. “If you need me, I’m there.”

  Mel gave me a squeeze, a sad smile on her face. Then she disappeared.

  The second she was gone I raced up the stairs leaving Baz to scurry after me.

  Using my nose, I found they’d taken Logan to Greer’s old room.

  Dad and Iain glanced up from the side of the bed as I entered.

  Dad gave me a sad smile. “The cryo-process had begun well before you found him. It can be reversed, but it will be more complicated.”

  He’d told me what I needed to know before I’d even asked the questions, and I was very grateful for that.

  Lily sat at the foot of the bed watching Logan, her face pale. When she looked at me, I froze at her expression. The color in her eyes faded as she studied me.

  I had no idea how I was going to break the news to Lily. And at this point I wasn’t strong enough. Selfish, yes, but I just couldn’t do it right now. I shifted my gaze, not ready to launch into that conversation as yet.

  I moved to the side of the bed and stood beside my father and brother. Logan still had tubes running into him and the small generator groaned beside him.

  “We need to find someone to help us bring him back,” I whispered.

  “Don’t worry. We’ve got it covered.”

  I looked up at Dad, frowning.

  His eyes were dark. “It can be reversed, Kai. I’ll figure it out.”

  I pressed my cheek against his shoulder. “I had no idea you were scientifically minded, Dad.”

  He snorted. “Your uncle Niko wasn’t the only scientist in our family.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You’re a scientist?” How in Ailuros’ name did I not know that?

  Dad nodded, unaware of my surprise “I used to work at Sentinel in their labs. It’s where I met your mother. I still have enough gray cells left to figure this out.”

  My father was a geek. “I’m so not impressed with all the secrets.”

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  I didn’t have the strength to fight with my father. And I didn’t want to search out my Mom either. I knew I’d break into a thousand pieces the moment I saw her.

  I suppressed a sigh and asked, “How are the twins and Baz?”

  “Twins are asleep and Baz is trying to crack that flash drive of Grams’. They’re all fine.”

  I managed a grateful smile, then motioned for Lily to follow me.

  As I headed down the stairs and out of the house, I sensed her following a few paces behind. Her silence hurt but I didn’t stop until I got to the gazebo outside.

  Dad had built the little house for Greer, but she’d never used it solely because she hadn’t been given what she’d wanted. Instead, it’d become a place for me to run away to.

  I took a seat on one of the wooden benches inside the gazebo and suppressed a shiver. I’d been so focused on the need to talk to Lily that I’d forgotten how cold it was getting.

  Soon it would snow. It would be beautiful. And yet I knew that I would find no beauty in this winter.

  Lily sat down beside me. She sat very close, as if she knew that she’d be needing me, or perhaps she sensed that I’d be needing her more.

  “Did you find Anjelo?” she asked softly.

  I nodded even though she was staring at her hands, folded in her lap. “He must have come looking for you,” I said.

  Her lips trembled. “I was afraid of that.”

  My arm shook as I placed it around her. “I’m sorry, Lily.”

  She looked up at me, her eyes filling with tears. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. We bought his body here. There’s no indication of what they were trying to do to him.” I didn’t add that we hadn’t had time to remove the papery hospital gown from his body and inspect him for wounds.

  “How long has he been dead?”

  “It’s hard to tell. But it may be a day or two.”

  Lily laughed softly. “I thought I was dreaming.” Shook her head. “He must have already passed into the Graylands yesterday.”

  What? I frowned. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because he came to me.” Lily sent me a watery smile “I thought I was dreaming. But now that I know he’s dead, I know that he’d come to visit me.”

  I shook my head, not wanting to believe what she was saying. “I’ll get Nerina. Maybe she can help us find out what happened to him.”

  Lily smiled. “It’s too late, Kai. We’d only be able to talk to him if we went to the Graylands.”

  “Nerina would still be able to find him.” My body shuddered as I tried to suppress the sobs rising within me. “Even in the Graylands. She’d be able to tell us if he’s okay.”

  “He’s dead.” Her tone was tired and it made me want to burst into tears. “How okay do you think he’ll be, considering he’s dead?”

  She had a point. But Nerina would be able to tell us if he’d passed on.

  I held Lily close, pushed my grief away. “Tell me what you want to do, Lily. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

  She looked up at me and slid an arm around my waist.

  “Leave him be, Kai. He came to see me already and now I know that he’s gone, I can handle his visits better.” She smiled. “If he wants to tell us something, he’ll find a way. Just leave him in peace.”

  I blinked away my tears.

  Anjelo a ghost? I didn’t want to think about what that meant both for him and for Lily. Would she ever be able to move on when Anjelo lingered in our world? Would I? How would I face him should he ever visit me?

  I didn’t want to think about it. Instead, I thought about Lily. I put both my arms around her. The warmth of her closeness made the shaking in my limbs go away, and right that moment I needed to not fall apart.

  “When did you go and get all smart on me?” I asked her softly.

  Lily didn’t answer. She wept. She wept and I held her close.

  We would both grieve for Anjelo.

  And in the meantime, I’d be joining the Suprem
e High Council’s Elite Corp. Maybe with their power behind me, I could make a real difference.

  And I would wait for Logan to come back to me.

  Chapter 58

  THE LETTER

  I SAT ON my bed, staring at the piece of paper. Only a single sheet had been contained within the envelope that Jess had given me. She’d promised me a gift and what I’d received was the last thing I would have imagined.

  I glanced at the words again, and managed a small smile. A little ray of hope entered my bleak life.

  I bent my head and read the words one more time.

  In the Dark World, when the night is black,

  When darkness looms, to swallow you whole,

  A quintet of courage will bring forth hope,

  And reach across the planes to save heart and soul

  She who shreds the Veils and she who hunts the Demons,

  She who mend Minds and she who speaks beyond the Grave

  And she who bears the face of all - these five shall be as one.

  For they are the saviors of the DarkWorld, they are the Ni’amh...

  The poem could mean only one thing, as far as I could understand it. a SoulTracker, a DemonHunter, a MindMage, a DeathTalker and a ShapeChanger; Mel, myself, Darcy, Nerina and Cassie—we were the Quintet of the Ni’amh.

  And we had our work cut out for us.

  TO BE CONTINUED

  Acknowledgments

  To my editor Gracie O'Neil - you are amazing. Thank you for going all out for me.

  To Rachel & Brina at Mark My Words - thank you for keeping me on the straight and narrow. Your support means the world to me.

  As ever, to my amazing family - thank you for all your support, encouragement and nagging - what would I do without you?

  And to my readers - Keep on turning them pages...

  Copyright

  tgayer.com

  Tee’s Blog

  Tee’s Newsletter

  BLOOD PROMISE

  A SKINWALKER NOVEL BOOK 4

  Copyright © 2015 by T.G. Ayer

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art by Eduardo Priego

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by Gracie O'Neil

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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

  Scorched Fury - SkinWalker 5

  Chapter 1

  I remember my parents taking me to see the Great Tree for the first time when I was four years old.

  I remember thinking at the time that the tree was an incredibly wondrous thing. How was it even possible that any living thing could grow to be that big? For a kid, most things seemed enormous by comparison, but I recall marveling even then at the very size of it, even then understanding that I was witness to something incredibly special.

  The Great Ash Tree; mystical, magical, symbol of hope to all supernaturals in the EarthWorld.

  Decades ago, after a black night in which lightning storms and bitter rain fought like embattled gods, the tree had taken silent root. At the edge of the inner city, where the skyscrapers of the concrete jungle gave way to older, more staid architecture, a whip-thin seedling appeared as if by some inexplicable magic.

  Even to a paranormal like me, such a beginning encompassed that which a normal mind cannot unravel. And the people watched in wonder as within mere months the seedling rose to the skies, and little branches reached further and further out.

  Not long after the tree had gained its majestic height, it had dwarfed even the tallest skyscrapers in Chicago. With its pale, almost ivory bark, and gigantic branches that spread out hundreds of yards from the base of the tree, and leaves whose colors ranged from deep emerald to dusky brown, the gigantic white ash tree towered over the city, reigning supreme, albeit in such a serene silence that it became an accepted, welcome sight. And one that we soon became so used to that it drifted into the background of our thoughts.

  Not taken for granted, but rather accepted as part of our lives.

  No season affected the tree, no leaves fell when winter came, no branches stripped bare as the snow fell. The Great Ash bloomed all year round, decade after decade.

  Until now.

  Sixteen years after that first visit, I found myself standing, again, in front of the Great Ash Tree, without a parent holding each hand, and with awe and wonder the furthest emotions from my mind.

  The Ash had been turned into a monument of sorts, and people regularly came to visit. The city had ensured an entire block was dedicated as grounds around the tree were manicured, and planted with seasonal flowers which tended to confuse the gardeners by blooming all year round.

  I stood still, squinting up at the tree, the sun high in the sky and casting little shadow. To the other visitors who milled around the grass at the base of the tree I’d appear to be just like them. I’d dressed in black jeans, a gray long-sleeved tee, rugged biker boots and a leather jacket that was warmer than it looked, though not warm enough. I didn’t exactly blend in with the humans around me, but neither did I call unwanted attention to myself.

  I shivered, pulling the lapels of my jacket closer and giving the ruddy-cheeked woman to my right an answering nod and smile. The weather had turned colder, with four weeks to Christmas, and the volume of tourists visiting the tree had thinned, with only one group of gawkers here today besides me. A gust of icy wind encouraged the woman and her party of three to return to the warmth of her car.

  Leaving me alone to inspect the tree.

  I was here as an agent of the Supreme Elite; Kailin Odel, agent for the Elders’ newly instated investigative arm. The Elders were the most venerable, most respected of all supernatural races. Some say they preceded all races and were even older than the gods. Some even made whispered suggestions that they were the last of God’s first children – the Angels.

  Whoever they were, to us they were the lawgivers and the lawkeepers. They oversaw the laws across all the planes, acting as a respected senate of sorts. All the High Councils answered to them, no paranormal would dare to defy them.

  Not that there were never factions who disagreed with the old ways. Such dissatisfaction spawned Omega, an agency which rivaled that of the Supreme High Council’s Sentinel.

  Until recently both Omega and Sentinel had worked under a banner of inter-agency cooperation. But with Omega under investigation, charged with crimes against supernaturals – some of which I’d seen with my own eyes – Sentinel’s agents had trouble coping.

  The Elders put together a cadre of high-level agents known as the Elite, using only the best, most powerful supernaturals from around the world to handle the most sensitive cases. Logan, Saleem – our djinn friend who also happened to be a prince - and I had been recruited a while back. Only now, Logan was in a coma, and Saleem was on a personal mission.

  That left me to perform my role, alone.

  In the human world, I’d be the equivalent of the CIA or sometimes even the FBI. I even had a license to kill. Just like good old Bond himself.

  A suspicious call had come through on the Elite’s hotline an hour ago from a concerned citizen: the Tree is dying. That was it. Had the call been traceable, and had the voice not been digitally masked, the call center might have ignored it. They didn’t.

  My boss Horner’s demeanor on the phone was the first sign that something was wrong. The tight edge of his voice as he’d left his messa
ge had me on alert because Supreme High Councilman David Horner was never flustered, never stressed.

  I could picture him, all geeky, thin and bespectacled, his face seriously bland, his voice controlled and neutral. Flustered and stressed were two words so not in his repertoire.

  Despite his obvious concern, I’d spent my entire ride here unconvinced that it was a legitimate problem. How could anything bad happen to the Great Ash, anyway? It didn’t make sense to consider the tree as vulnerable. I’d never known the Chicago skyline without the silhouette of the Tree.

  So, any suspicions regarding the health of the Ash were easily brushed away as some madman’s ramblings, or a crazy Shaman’s mixed-up prophecy.

  But now, I stood a scant foot from the pale bark of the tree, my boots carefully placed between desiccating roots that rose from the ground like curling waves turned instantly solid. The smoothness of the pale bark was marred by dozens of ragged gashes, as if someone had taken a broken hatchet to it, long thin jagged slashes penetrating deep into the wood. Where the surface lay split open, a dark ominous substance pooled.

  The trunk of the Great Ash cried ebony tears.

  I had to force myself to move, to loosen the stiffened muscles in my arms. No matter how shocking the tree’s condition, I had work to do. From my satchel, I withdrew two small tubes and a narrow wooden spatula - one of those tools that resembled an ice-cream stick but had a much loftier purpose than aiding in refreshment.

  Scraping off an equal amount of black ooze from each gaping wound, I deposited them into the tubes and sealed them with red rubber stoppers.

  In the last few weeks, evidence had become an increasingly important part of my daily work. A few months ago, I would have barreled in, eliminated my target and left, happy the job was done. These days, with Elite cases taking me across, and beyond, the continent, there were rules to abide by.