She didn't cry, or moan. Nothing. There was no reaction, and that worried him.
“Sulphur,” Raphael hissed, his burnt amber wings rustling behind him. “The place stinks of it.”
“There’s no summoning earth,” Zeph muttered, gaze sweeping the garden with militant precision. “They might have been sent from elsewhere.”
With Alice wrapped around him like a weightless vine he re-entered the house, keeping her faced away from the blood and gore. It didn’t take long to climb the stairs, the master bedroom just down the hall. Quickly and efficiently he sat Alice on her parents bed, her eyes partially closed. She shivered, her teeth chattering before he covered her in the duvet.
Once she was settled he carefully opened the hidden cupboard, searching inside for Lily’s sword. Grimoires and books were also stacked at the back, but he left them, knowing he would take care of the house until Alice came of age. She could do with it what she wished, but until then it would stay there, unoccupied, waiting.
Alice was asleep when he picked her back up, changing the duvet to an easier to carry blanket. Wrapped up he lifted her in his arms, sword carefully pointed away.
“What are your orders, Nahaliel?” Nix appeared in the doorway, eyebrows pinched. His voice was deep, and woven with such loyalty it couldn’t be bought. His wings were as black as the night, almost hidden in the darkness.
“You know I no longer go by that name,” Dread snarled, but at Alice’s flinch he calmed his voice. “There are no more orders, we were too late.”
Swallowing hard he cradled Alice closer. He had been friends with her father since he was a man barely grown. He had been with him through everything, from meeting the love of his life Lily, to the birth of their first son Kyle, and then the birth of Alice.
He didn’t know what Jackson had done to result in this, but he hoped he could find peace in knowing Alice would be taken care of. He couldn’t have children, and had never wanted the responsibility. But looking down at the sleeping child he knew he would give his life for her without a second thought.
With a heavy heart he looked towards his men, their wings poised and weapons ready. It was the first time he didn’t feel envy, feel the emptiness at his back from the loss of his wings. Because if he hadn’t fallen, he would never had met Jackson, and therefore never had saved his little girl.
“There is nothing more to be done.”
A cry escaped Alice’s throat, her eyes blinking away the memory that wasn’t hers. Hands hot she dropped the box onto the table, the top snapping open. She was alone, Jax gone as she brushed the wet tears from her face. Inside was a key.
Hand shaking Alice picked up the thin, golden key, recognising the design immediately. It was just as thin as the other one, with the lines curved like an eye, what would be the pupil cut out and replaced with blue glass instead of red. Leaning over she pulled open the kitchen drawer, finding the other key and placing them both on the table. They were both too thin for a normal lock, but together…
Alice placed the blue key on top of the red, pressing down until they slot into each other perfectly. The pupils lined up, the glass turning from blue and red to purple.
Dread had given her a key. Now all she needed was the lock.
Chapter 19
Alice stirred her coffee, the spoon turning in a clockwise motion. Freya Wilson sat across the table, hands clasped and resting on the table, fingernails painted black. She sat eerily still, staring at both her and Peyton without even a cursory glance to the two-way mirror to her right. Brady sat behind the glass, watching.
The interview was taking place at Scotland Yard, the room soundproof but equipped with the latest microphone and camera equipment. Everything was recorded, every twitch of the muscles, bite of the lip or stutter.
“You sure you don’t want one?” Alice asked Freya, gesturing to the mug.
“No, thank you,” she said, smiling. “Will this take long?”
“Not too long,” Peyton said, sipping his own coffee. “Remember, you’re not under any kind of caution.” They had no evidence Freya was involved, so she agreed to the interview voluntarily after a little pushing on Peyton’s part. Alice wasn’t sure why Brady had decided to sit out, allowing her to take part instead. She had no training in interrogations, so she decided to sit back and keep her chi stretched, reading Freya through her third eye.
Peyton clicked a button on the desk.
“Okay,” he began, looking at his watch. “Time is 15:21, Monday tenth of June. Present in the room is Detective Constable Raeran Peyton, Independent Breed Consultant Agent Alice Skye and…”
Freya moved forward, bending towards the microphone that stuck out from the desk. “Ms Freya Wilson.”
“Could you please give your date of birth.”
“Erm,” she coughed, clearing her throat. “Twenty-sixth of February, nineteen-forty-nine.”
Peyton smiled. “Thank you. Now, the reason we have invited you here is to clear up some information you told us from our last visit. Do you remember when that was?”
Freya looked between them. “Yes, last week you came over to my house to ask me about my latest book.”
“Exactly,” Peyton continued. “We were coming to ask you about the murders within your book that were being replicated in the real world. Strange, isn’t it?”
“I guess so…”
“So strange that the sales of your book Blood of the Moon have skyrocketed and outsold the majority of the rest of your work combined.”
“How convenient,” Alice added. “Especially considering your contract with your publisher had been terminated only three months after its release.” Alice pushed out her aura, feeling Freya’s flinch at the connection.
“Those sales were earned,” Freya said, tone deepening as she flicked her eyes to Alice then back. “That book was a masterpiece of literature.”
“Freya, can I call you Freya?” Peyton continued without waiting for her to confirm. “Is there a reason you failed to mention that your publisher dropped you after fifteen years?”
“I didn’t think it was relevant. They’re still obliged to pay me for the books they’ve released on my behalf until they return my rights.”
“Why did they drop you? In fact, don’t answer that, I have the answer right here.” Peyton opened the thick folder Alice knew to be full of meaningless paperwork. It was meant to look full, when in reality it was empty of information bar a couple sheets. “We contacted Hellfire Publishing House for a statement regarding the reason you were dropped, and they were all too happy to oblige to separate themselves from these murders. It says here that they decided to let you go after the release of Blood of the Moon due to continuous creative differences. Quite nicely put considering.”
“Professional,” Alice agreed.
“They also go on to state the increasing aggression towards their staff from you, Freya.” He looked up from his notes. “Which was also what your agent said.” He slipped over a statement. “The same agent who has gone on record stating they had never seen or even heard from you regarding any threatening letters.”
“That’s a lie!”
“So which is It Freya? Is your agent lying or are you? Where are these letters?”
“I’ve told you!” she shouted, tears glistening her eyes. “I burned them.”
Peyton snapped the folder shut with an audible slap. “So where did you first hear of the Loom of Life?”
Freya’s eyes widened, smile tightening. As quickly as they came, the tears disappeared and her chi flared. Alice caught it, the energy push weak, almost as weak as a mage. As if she knew Freya concealed her chi, tightening so Alice could no longer feel it.
Her carefully composed face dropped, but only for a second. “Loom?”
“From your book?” Peyton pulled out Blood of the Moon. “I actually enjoyed it, so thank you.”
“Oh, that,” she chuckled, looking away. “I read it somewhere.” Her fingers clenched, remaining on the table.
>
Peyton shook his head. “Where?”
Freya hesitated. “I can’t remember. Are we almost done here? I have a book signing to get to.”
“I find it interesting how you go into great detail of the loom, accurate detail too. The Loom of Life is actually a Fae artefact long forgotten. Did you know that?”
“No,” she muttered. “I didn’t.” Freya went to stand when Peyton held out his hand. “I think I’m done…”
“Now,” Peyton continued. “Wrapping the deceased in fabric made from their own flesh is dramatic, and unnecessary. I’m sure this book you used for research, being so accurate would have stated that once the fabric is woven, the weaver already benefits from the sacrifice’s life force.”
“This interview is over,” Freya snapped. “If you wish to continue I would like a solicitor.”
“You’re not under caution,” Peyton reminded her, looking at his watch. “Interview suspended at 15:59.” He clicked the button on the desk. “You’re free to go Ms Wilson, good luck with your book signing.”
“You had way too much fun doing that,” Alice said as she pushed open the door into the fresh air.
“A little,” Peyton said, following her behind as he loosened his tie. “I was pushing her harder because we just got news the third Vic hasn’t woken up and they don’t think he will. Apparently the leader of the shifters is there trying to help.”
Xavier was there? Alice thought to herself. How did he find out?
“She knows something,” Peyton continued. “We just need to get her with some physical evidence.”
Alice had agreed, explaining to Brady that she was too weak in power to achieve the spell alone. Which meant they were looking for at least one other person. “Let us hope Jones finds something.” They just needed a fingerprint or hair, anything substantial that put Freya at the scene, otherwise they couldn’t get a warrant to search her premises. “Brady seemed happy with the progress.”
“That’s because there’s two bodies, a third if our Vic dies, and only days away from another. Oh, and we have no active leads.”
“How many are we expecting?” Alice hadn’t had a chance to read the Blood of the Moon, and Brady was working on bullet points for the team.
“Eight in total if we go by the book, one for each moon phase.”
“And does that match what you know of the loom?”
Peyton grunted. “I’m still working on it.”
“That…” Alice paused, noticing Freya waiting on the street for a black cab.
“Hey baby girl!” Sam waved at her from across the street.
“Sam!” Alice welcomed his hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he lifted her in the air and swung her around. “You ready?”
“Of course! It was my idea to treat my favourite girl to a hot drink,” he smiled, wiggling his eyebrows at Peyton. “You can buy your own coffee, pretty boy.”
Peyton grunted, his attention on Freya who had finally hailed a cab. She shot them a scathing look, pulling away into the busy city traffic.
“Rain check? I’m meeting Elduin.”
Sam placed his arm around Peyton, who quickly shrugged it off. “You sure you don’t want to join us? Of course Elduin’s welcome too.”
Peyton shook his head. “Busy.”
Alice grabbed Sam’s hand, pulling him away. “Come on!”
Only a short walk away and Alice grabbed a seat by the window while Sam went to the counter, ordering their drinks. When he placed a hot chocolate in front of her she sighed, curling her cold hands around the warm mug.
“You look cute,” she said when he had taken his own seat opposite. His hair was a shiny straight curtain draped over his shoulder. Black circled his eyes, drawing everyone’s attention to their beautiful, unusual colour.
Sam looked down at his own hot chocolate. “Look, Alice…”
“Don’t,” she warned, knowing what was next. “I don’t need an apology, it’s not your fault.”
When he looked up, his amber eyes were hard, angry. “It’s because of me you went to The Compound. He tried to force a mating, Alice. What sort of arsehole…”
“He didn’t try and force anything,” she stopped him. “Because I wouldn’t let him.” She reached over to his hand, him flinching at the contact before he crushed her palm with his, his leopard prowling behind his irises.
I hate those fucking wolves, he said without words. They’ve brought us nothing but shit.
Alice decided he needed to hear it out loud. “It’s over,” she squeezed his hand. “I have forgiven Rex for everything else, but this… no.”
“Roman called…”
“And he had nothing to do with it.” Alice released his hand, using a small spoon to eat the cream on her hot chocolate. “Besides, we have another issue to deal with.”
Sam dramatically groaned. “What’s happened now?”
“We’re being evicted.”
Sam stared, his lip twitching before a laugh escaped. “I didn’t even know we could! Isn’t there laws against that sort of thing?”
Alice sucked on her spoon. “No idea.”
Sam sighed. “We have some sort of luck, baby girl.”
“Hmmm.” Alice sipped the chocolate, savouring the sweet flavour. “Why don’t you talk to me about Ash? I heard you guys arguing last night.”
Sam wiggled his eyebrows. “We weren’t arguing for long.”
Alice laughed. “Oh yeah, going by the squeaking from your bedroom until the early hours of the morning, you were real busy.”
With a chuckle Sam tried his drink. “With Ash it’s… complicated. He wants me all to himself, but he doesn’t understand that I’m not just gay. I’m… I don’t even know, I’m still exploring that myself. I don’t even think I want to be in just one relationship, or any romantic relationship at all.”
“I know you don’t want a full on relationship, but maybe you should let him … oh, I don’t know… love you?”
“Hmmm, funny.”
“No, seriously.” Alice sipped at her hot chocolate, savouring the rich flavour. “You’re worth loving Sam.”
Sam paused, thinking her statement through. “You’re my favourite, baby girl. You know that?”
Sam’s phone vibrated, Ash’s name flashing up.
“You going to answer?” Alice nudged it towards him. “I heard he was a stallion.”
He smiled. “I’ll be home later, I want to talk about that box you left on the kitchen side.” Sam kissed Alice on the cheek, clutching the phone to his chest. “I love you, and I really think you should take your own advice.”
Alice blew him a kiss goodbye. “Maybe I will.”
Chapter 20
Alice entered the lift, the warm paper bag of noodles and chicken wrapped in her arms. It felt right to call Riley, to meet him at work with dinner. Not that the cheap takeaway could really be called dinner. But it was also an excuse to see him. She was… strangely excited. She wanted to tell him about her day, about her suspicions and know his thoughts. He mattered, unlike any other man had in that way.
Alice looked up at the reflection of herself on the metal lift doors. Her makeup was hours old, the eyeliner slightly smudged and her hair looked barely brushed. Her clothes were decent at least, professional, with a black trousers and jacket that made her white cotton t-shirt acceptable. She had strapped a knife to the outside of her thigh while her sword lay flush to her back, hidden.
Riley was continuing to split his attention between The Spike and Blood Bar, with the latter being run by a manager until he could be back fulltime. The building was tall, made from glass and steel that looked as sharp as the businesses that rented the eighty-or-so floors. Financiers, solicitors and bankers flashed across the digital screen as she went up and up, until she hit the top floor.
The door slid open, Alice stepping out as Kace appeared from behind one of the glass partitions on the left. His eyes flashed when they met, nostrils flaring.
“You need to stop this
,” he snarled, tugging at his dark red hair. “Do you not know what you’re doing?”
Alice paused. “Excuse me? I’m just bringing dinner…”
“You’re killing him.” He moved closer, towering over her with his height.
But she wasn’t as easily intimidated. “Back off,” she snapped. “What’s this about?”
“You need to fuck off,” he said with a smoky growl. “His beast is more volatile since you turned up, and considering he usually has complete control that’s saying something. You don’t get it, but each time we turn there’s a chance we won’t come back. It’s why there’s a rule that we can’t have relationships.”
Alice paused. “What?”
Kace continued, snarling down at her. “The rules are there to keep us strong, and Riley is sacrificing himself, as well as us to be with you.” He shifted his head, eyes swirling silver. “And guess who has to put him down when he can’t turn back? Us.”
“Stop it!”
“Guess you really are War,” he rumbled, walking away.
Alice stood, chest tight as tears burned her eyes. Her legs moved forward, but she felt hollow as she placed the takeaway bag onto the receptionist desk. “Erm, can you give this to Mr Storm, please.”
The receptionist smiled, taking the Chinese. “Are you not…?”
Alice turned away, almost running to call the lift that was luckily still on the top floor. Inside was empty, the steel box feeling confined as the metal doors slid closed.
“Alice?”
She heard his voice, but the lift had already begun to descend.
Moving to the back, she wrapped her arms around herself as if she were to break. People filtered in as they went down, until it was almost full when they hit the ground floor.
Riley was waiting, almost panting with eyes completely liquid silver. People quickly moved around him, his attention on her as she fought the tears that threatened to spill. When it was just them he stepped inside, waiting until the door closed before hitting the emergency lock button.
Knight's War: A Witch Detective Urban Fantasy (Alice Skye series Book 5) Page 15