Knight's War: A Witch Detective Urban Fantasy (Alice Skye series Book 5)

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Knight's War: A Witch Detective Urban Fantasy (Alice Skye series Book 5) Page 1

by Taylor Aston White




  Knight’s War

  An Alice Skye novel

  Taylor Aston White

  DISCLAIMER - Written in British English.

  Copyright © 2021 by Dark Wolf Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by Michael Evans

  Dedication

  To my husband, who always believed in me, regardless of my crazy ideas.

  Alice Skye Series

  Witch’s Sorrow

  Druid’s Storm

  Rogue’s Mercy

  Elemental’s Curse

  Knight’s War

  Book six coming soon

  Alice Skye Short Story

  Witch’s Bounty

  Contents

  Disclaimer

  Introduction

  Book Five

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 9.5

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 15.5

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 23.5

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 30.5

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  About the Author

  This book is written in British English, including spelling and grammar.

  Your FREE short story is waiting…

  Witch’s Bounty

  When the wrong man's framed, and the Metropolitan Police don't care. Paladin Agent Alice Skye takes it on herself to find the real culprit.

  Get your free copy of Witch’s Bounty at

  www.taylorastonwhite.com

  Book Five

  Prologue

  She staggered, the body she possessed physically weak, but strong in chi. She wouldn’t be absorbed quickly, unlike the last one.

  Her lip lifted in a snarl, her last host’s body pathetically laying on the thread-bare carpet. She had been old, with wrinkles decorating her pink face and pains in joints she never knew existed.

  She wouldn’t have chosen her, but the old hag had been the only choice. It was either find a body, or, well, she couldn’t comprehend what could have happened. In all that time alone, she didn’t realise she could die.

  Or could she?

  It wasn’t exactly something she wished to explore.

  The initial feeling of terror was subsiding, her new host’s soul crumbling beneath her own. It wouldn’t take long before she couldn’t feel the other woman anymore. Maybe a few weeks or so, depending on the tenacity of her spirit. But, for now she would be an annoying voice that begged and cried for her life. Pathetic really.

  With a swift flick of the wrist she pulled off the stained fabrics, laying bare her flesh to the mirror.

  It wasn’t too bad, she thought as she brushed her new fingers through her auburn hair. Her skin was pale, like snow, not that she had seen snow in several millennia’s. But she remembered the whiteness of it, so white it hurt her eyes. The skin would bruise easily, which meant she would need to wear long sleeves to hide the pinprick marks that tarnished the inner arms.

  The ribs were visible, as was the collarbone and cheeks. At least the breasts were generous, as generous as they could be in a body so thin. It wouldn’t take long to fatten the body up, to strengthen it.

  Then she would begin her plan.

  A plan she has had too long to prepare.

  “Yes,” she said aloud, enjoying the sensual purr of her own voice in a new, pretty face. “This will do nicely.”

  Chapter 1

  Alice stared at the logo of a coffin, wondering if she should laugh or cry. It wasn’t particularly sympathetic considering the reason she was there. To be fair, she would have normally found it amusing, but everything that could have gone wrong that morning, had gone wrong.

  It had all started with a call to a mechanic because her beloved car had decided it wasn’t interested in being a car any longer, and wanted instead to be an expensive, rusty ornament. It had resulted in her having to take public transport, which took longer than she had expected. Unfortunately her appointment wasn’t close to any bus stops, which meant she had to run the rest of the way in the rain while wearing a white t-shirt and no jacket.

  Her bra on full show was not exactly the attire she was expected to wear for a meeting with the officiant. She shouldn’t have bothered rushing though, especially considering she had been waiting at the office of D.E.A.D. for over two hours, after waiting two months for the actual appointment. The official meeting was to deal with the Death, Estate and Assets of the true Dead. Alice didn’t realise when she lost Dread, that when a vampire died the second time around there would be so much paperwork.

  You would have thought for a Breed who had technically died already, that they would have the foresight to plan better. But no, the Vamps apparently believed the grim reaper wouldn’t catch up with them, and if they did everything would be dealt with through the slowest administration ever anyway.

  Now when a vampire died under capital punishment, everything in their possession automatically went to their master, the vampire who originally turned them. If that person was already dust, it went to their master and so on until one of their great-grand-masters was found to be alive. Or alive as they could be being the living dead.

  If there wasn’t a trackable trace it went to the closest kin. It seemed pretty stupid to Alice, which was exactly what she told the receptionist when she made the appointment. Apparently it had always been that way, and it saved Bonors - the name commonly referred to vampires live-in blood donors, much to their annoyance - from making a claim against the estate.

  Which meant Alice had been fighting D.E.A.D. for access to Dread’s townhouse and possessions. Not only had she had to deal with mourning the man she looked to as her father, but she also had to deal with the most unhelpful Breed possible. Time apparently wasn’t an issue for the almost immortals.

  Vampires didn’t die very often, not compared to other Breed. Which was why the selection period for new vampires was restricted to once or twice a year. If she went by the amount of young Vamps in the room she assumed the office also registered the newly turned.

  A freshy to her left was still caked in mud, having spent the evening buried somewhere to complete his transition. His eyes were dark, pupils completely dilated to cover his irises as he stared at her with a feral, hungry expression. His mouth was slightly open, new fangs peeking through while saliva dripped down to soak his shirt. Around his throat was a collar with a lead attached, the end connected to a tight fist.

  “Alice Skye?” a monotone voice called from the front desk.

  “Yeah,” Alice replied, holding her hand up. “That’s me.” She ignored the growl of the newly turned beside her.
>
  The man appraised her slowly, his face less than impressed. “Come with me.”

  Alice quickly followed behind, taking a seat opposite his desk in a small, windowless room. A metal name plate faced her.

  “It’s nice to meet you Mr Floof,” Alice said with a tight smile. It wasn’t a name she would have personally picked, especially as it wasn’t uncommon for vampires to change their name once turned. They believed it was better to have a new name for a new life. Or death, as it were.

  Mr Floof looked to be in his late fifties, with a rounded stomach and receding hairline. Fine lines cracked his pale face, wrinkles that he would have received before his turn. She assumed he was older than two-hundred in undead terms, because the age restrictions when petitioning to be transformed came into place around then. She doubted he was younger than the thirty-five cut off age, or if he was his previous life did not treat him well.

  Mr Floof read from a folder on his desk, his eyes slowly moving from one side of the sheet of paper to the other.

  “So…” she began.

  He held up his index finger, his attention still on the paperwork.

  Heat spiked in her chest, her cheeks flushing as she held her response back. Usually Tinkerbell would have popped into existence at her sudden anger, but she had been learning to control her outbursts. Her power was connected to her emotions, so she had been training with Riley and The Guardians to control it. She no longer risked burning down a building when she was outraged, but that didn’t mean her patience was infinite.

  “Just to confirm,” Mr Floof said in his flat voice, “that you are here to discuss the assets of one Nahaliel Dread?”

  Alice nodded. “That is why I’m here, yes.”

  “I’m sure you’re aware that protocol is for everything in Mr Dread’s possession to be passed onto his master. If no clan master, or master’s master can be tracked it would go to next of kin. You are neither.” He held up his finger once again when she began to speak. “You are not legally adopted, therefore not classed as kin. In fact, when I was writing up the paperwork I discovered you were declared dead between the ages of six to eighteen.”

  Alice waited for him to drop his hand. “Wow, that’s weird,” she replied in the same monotone voice. “Must have been an error.” It wasn’t, she was technically declared dead. Dread had thought it was the safest option, then when she turned eighteen she decided to correct it, wanting to use her family name as an adult rather than the fake one she went by as a child.

  Mr Floof narrowed his eyes. “It was… curious.”

  “So, have you found his master?” Dread had never mentioned the person who turned him, and she had never asked. “Who?” she continued before he could answer.

  “That’s confidential information.”

  “But you’ve found them?” Shit. “Where does that leave me?”

  He shuffled the paperwork, staring down at his notes before he replied. “Normally you would be advised there was nothing we could do. The protocols came into place for a reason to protect my kind from… vultures.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying I’m a vulture?”

  He immediately looked down, shuffling his papers as he cleared his throat. She was confident that if he had recently fed, his face would have flushed with embarrassment. “No, no, that wasn’t what I was saying. However, you are not kin so you do not inherit any wealth or property.”

  She never wanted his wealth or property, but she knew there was something he would have left her to find. “There needs to be…”

  He held up another finger, and she forced herself not to break it. “Let me finish, please.”

  Alice bit back her reply.

  “It’s an unusual situation, but the new owner has put forward that you be given temporary access to Mr Dread’s property.”

  “Really?”

  Why would they do that?

  “Yes, but only so you can collect your personal belongings under supervision.”

  Alice thought his response through. “What do you mean supervision?”

  “A representative for the estate will be in contact. It’s not down to us here at D.E.A.D. to facilitate.”

  “But…”

  “Our time is up, Miss Skye,” Mr Floof said with a fake curve to his cheek. “I hope you take the time to fill out our survey. It helps us improve our service.”

  With a loud snap his hand blurred, and a red stamp marked his paperwork.

  The bell chimed when she pushed the door open into the garage, the smell of oil and petrol assaulting her nose immediately. A red SUV was high on the service lift, a man hidden beneath in a hole.

  “Hello?” she called as she stepped further inside and scanned the small area for her car. She found it at the back, the pale blue beetle covered in rust and a few scratches. Mostly put there on purpose to try and keep the car running with enchantments and wards. They didn’t work, but the aesthetic looked interesting.

  “Who’s there?” the man said, popping his head up to frown at Alice. His caramel skin was darkened with smears of black, his overalls more grey than the original blue. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m here to pick up my car?”

  “Oh, you the bug?” he gestured to her rust bucket. “You should really stop with all that magic crap. It doesn’t work, not with that much metal.” He sniffed, brushing his arm across his face to wipe some of the muck away. “Those spells or runes, or whatever they’re called are just crap.”

  She knew the metal would interfere with spells, but not wards which was what she had used. Even though they still hadn’t worked.

  “Is my car okay?” she asked instead of responding. His chi was lacklustre which made him human, and therefore someone who didn’t understand.

  The man grunted as he stepped out of the hole, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. “Define okay? I got it back up and running again, but I would think about scrapping her. She’s barely road legal and she’s going to cost you some pretty pennies when she keeps breaking down.”

  “Shit.” Alice dropped her shoulders. She loved her car, even when it was being temperamental. “It’s all I can afford right now.”

  “It’s just a suggestion,” he muttered as he popped into a glass office, coming back with some paperwork in his hand. “This time it was just the battery, but another time it may be something more serious. I also had to replace the two front tyres which I’ve added to the invoice at the bottom.”

  “Great,” Alice sighed as she accepted the paperwork. “Just great.”

  Chapter 2

  Her car spluttered to a stop outside Riley’s, the late morning sun washing over the house on the outskirts of the city with a welcoming glow. It was the beginning of summer, the temperature cool, but comfortable as she stepped out, closing her eyes to feel the wind in her hair.

  Her phone had remained silent on the drive over, no calls or texts as she waited with little patience for the representative to make contact. She had no interest in Dread’s money, or even the townhouse. She wanted memories. He was her father figure for almost two decades, yet due to a ridiculous law she wasn’t able to access the house she lived in from six to eighteen.

  “That’s one piece of crap,” a voice beside her muttered.

  Alice held back her flinch as she opened her eyes, settling her attention on Sythe as he judged her car with open interest. As she had spent more and more time there, she had begun to realise just how dangerous The Guardians were, especially when their speed and agility made them virtually silent.

  “Yeah, well it’s my piece of crap,” she replied as she tightened her fist around her keys. “Leave my car alone, she’s been through enough today.”

  “Your exhaust sounds funny,” he said, his heavy boots silent on the driveway as he walked the circumference of her car.

  “It’s fine, the mechanic said so.”

  Sythe shook his head with a frown. “You’re late for training, he’s already down at the clearing.” Without another wor
d he walked away, heading behind the house.

  With one last look at her car she walked towards the surrounding trees, following the dirt path. As soon as the thick branches covered her in shadow she calmed. She was, and always would be an earth witch, regardless of her increasing ability in arcane. Someone who was attuned to nature in such a way that she craved the surrounding green. She wanted to sink her toes into the earth, and feel the roots beneath her feet.

  It didn’t take her long to find the clearing, a large flattened circle that was surrounded by trees for privacy. To the left was a handmade wooden obstacle course, while the rest of the space was used for sparring. Both Titus and Axel were running through, trying to beat each other’s time in a blur too fast for her to distinguish. Riley met her eyes as soon as she appeared, a slow smile curling his lips.

  “Appointment go well?” he asked, arms crossing to drop her attention down to his naked chest. Small bursts of sunlight broke through the canopy of leaves above, glittering across his skin.

  “Am I interrupting something?” she replied with a smirk. “You seem to be all in various stages of undress.”

 

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