“We need to talk about this,” he said with a deep growl.
“Your silence on the subject is enough, it seems.” She tried to unlock the door, but he stood in the way. She let out her own frustrated growl. “Then talk. Tell me how I’m irritating your beast! Or how every time you transform you’re closer to never coming back. Tell me…”
“Who said you irritate my beast?” He dropped his head, teeth bared as he planted each palm on the mirrored metal behind her.
Alice clenched her fists. She wanted to hit out, her anger and pain manifesting as she struggled with the information. “Tell me I’m wrong, tell me that being with me doesn’t make you change more,” she said with an acerbic edge. “TELL ME!”
The tears burned when they released, making her angrier that the situation had brought her to tears in the first place. If being with him was making his beast react, then them being together was also slowly destroying him. The thought made her sick.
“Please, Riley,” she said, voice breaking. “You’re making me the monster I’m trying so hard not to be.”
“You, the monster?" he laughed, the sound hollow, emotionless. “My beast doesn’t become irritated around you, sweetheart.” His voice deepened, the tattoos that peeked beneath his dark tailored suit glowing as power vibrated around her. “My beast is enamoured by you.”
“Please,” she whispered, voice wet.
Her tears were salty when his lips met hers, his tongue pushing through as he pushed all his emotions into the kiss. She opened for him, putting everything she had in it as her heart ached deep within her chest. Her chi was on fire, seeking his until his merged in an overwhelming sensation that caressed across every part of her skin. Her hands somehow found their way around his neck, tangling in his hair as his hands clamped down on her hips. She kissed him as if he were the only man left on earth. And then she stepped back, breaking their connection and reaching around to unlock the lift doors.
Riley was silent, watching her in the reflection as she stepped out and walked away without looking back. She was trying everything not to be War. She could not be the reason for his destruction.
The sky had darkened and the street lights were on by the time Alice made it home. She was numb, the tears dry and her face was swollen and red.
“Sam?” she called into the house, needing her best friend. The kitchen light was on, but he wasn’t there when she checked. “Sam! You home!?” she shouted louder, looking at Dread’s paperwork that he had organised on the table. The key rested on top, with a sticky note attached to the stem.
They eye is the logo for a specialised bank! It read in Sam’s scruffy scrawl, followed by an address in the financial district. This is some super suspicious shit, baby girl!
“Good work, Sam,” she muttered, placing the key back down. The house was empty, meaning she was alone with her thoughts all night. With a heavy sigh Alice reached for her phone, deciding to be productive rather than sullen and research the bank when a voicemail popped up.
Heavy breathing greeted her.
‘Shit!’ Sam’s voice whispered quietly, followed by a pained sound. His breathing crackled, sounding wet as if he fought for every breath.
‘Where are you?’ Another voice echoed, feminine, female. ‘Come out, or your friend dies.’
Alice controlled her own breathing, the pulse in her throat beating violently as she strained to listen.
A loud screech, so loud she almost dropped the phone, followed with a crash.
‘This will teach that little witch a lesson,’ the feminine voice laughed, louder than before but slightly muffled. Footsteps, heels clicking on the hard ground, possibly concrete.
Ice cold, Alice stiffened her weak knees, listening as she heard something being dragged across the floor, disappearing into the distance. She knew what that something was, but didn’t want to articulate the thought.
She listened to the voicemail through twice more, anger breaking through her numbness in a violent wave.
‘This will teach that little witch a lesson.’
She knew that voice.
Chapter 21
Magic vibrated her fingertips, so strong it was a sharp pain that forced her to clench her fists. “Steady it down,” Peyton said, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You’re like a fucking beacon.” His touch weirdly calmed her, his own magic mingling with hers. Alice sucked in a breath, holding it until her pulse settled into a more regular pace. She had no intention of inviting Peyton, but he had known something was wrong and literally appeared in front of her with an audible pop. Their familiar connection was a problem, but right then she was grateful.
His commander Elduin quickly followed, lip lifted in a snarl to reveal his sharp, but short canines. They were both wearing what they explained was armour, but unlike any armour Alice had ever seen.
The silver plates covered them from neck to toe, with small spikes down the arms and claws at the edge of their fingers.
“If you can’t handle this, then leave,” she said, her voice steady and calm. “I’m not here as part of Spook Squad.”
Peyton angled his head, and what looked like barbed wire wrapped around his throat, moving up until it formed a crudely spiked crown with a ruby resting against his forehead. With his pale eyes and silver hair, he looked terrifying.
Elduin’s headpiece was similar, but less ornate.
“I’ve listened to the voicemail, I’m more than aware of your intentions,” he said quietly. “But you must be prepared for what we may find.”
Alice shifted her shoulder, dislodging his hand. She knew what he was saying, and refused to acknowledge it.
The gate to Freya Wilson’s house was locked, the metal thick and heavy. The walls were tall, almost twice the height of Alice yet Elduin scaled them with little effort. With a raised eyebrow he leant down an arm, allowing Alice to pull herself up and over the brick.
“Why didn’t you just poof?” she asked.
“Drifting takes a lot of energy. Energy we can’t waste,” was Elduin’s reply, his voice thick in accent.
Peyton landed quietly beside her, eyes scanning the grounds as well as the dark house. It was late, the streetlights barely reaching the front door as they approached.
Elduin mumbled something beneath his breath, the words alien and musical. A ball of light appeared in his hand, floating until it passed through the lock. With a click, the door swung open, the scent of dust, books and lavender wafting immediately out.
“Neat trick,” Alice whispered, the ball of light floating just above their eyeline. The same as their visit before, the curtains were pulled and the rooms were covered in darkness. The little light illuminated the books that were piled high in every corner, covering the armchairs, the fireplace and the desk at the back.
“They’re all of her own book,” Peyton mumbled, flicking open one.
Elduin growled low in his throat as he dropped to his knees, ear to the floor. “Can you hear that?”
Alice watched, his arse in the air as he swayed, face crushed to the carpet. ”No…”
Peyton opened their connection, and beneath the white noise that pulsed through her head she heard it, the drums. Faint, but there.
“The drums?”
“Older Wild magic pulsates when concentrated,” Peyton explained. “It can sound like a drum beat to those trained in noticing such things.”
The words registered in Alice’s head, her stomach clenching. The only wild magic they knew was the loom, and if the drums were beating, they were being used.
Tinkerbell reacted to her panic, bursting into life in a blast of sparks. The blue ball danced around her head, giving off some extra light.
“It’s below us,” Elduin said.
It didn’t take them long to find the stairs leading down to the cellar. They had been left wedged open, wards marked with blood written across the wooden door. Many were damaged or faded. Alice took a second to examine each one, knowing they were dark magic. She recognised
the curves and lines, having memorised them from her mother’s grimoire. They weren’t just dark magic, they were death magic.
One symbol glowed, igniting.
“Shit, she already knows we’re here.” She pushed out her hand. “ADOLEBITQUE.” The door slammed back into a kitchen cabinet, collapsing beneath the heat of her flames. It would take her time to remove the deadly wards, time they didn’t have.
“Well, there goes our silent approach,” Peyton grumbled.
At the bottom there was light, a bone chandelier high on the ceiling highlighting the wooden-panelled walls in the large, perfectly square room. The air was stale, but covered with the overwhelming scent of flowers that came from the fifty or so vases of lavender that decorated the protruding shelf in the centre of every wall corner to corner.
A large pentagram was engrained into the concrete floor, fresh blood covering the elemental points as well as more wards and symbols.
“Careful where you step…”
Elduin shot over to the other side, water splashing only seconds later. The wooden panelling created an illusion against the wall, hiding the deep bath in plain sight. Dark, congealed water sloshed over the side, covering the concrete and thickening on impact, turning into sludge. Elduin emptied more of the water, pulling at something deep inside.
“I don’t think he’s breathing.” Elduin pulled once more, Ash appearing from beneath the dark depths. The water continued to thicken, sticking to his skin as Elduin carefully placed him on the floor.
“Is he okay?” Alice asked, the sludge moving across the concrete towards them from the bath.
Peyton said something Alice couldn’t understand and Elduin quickly lifted Ash onto his shoulder, running back up the stairs.
“The walls are an illusion,” he said to her in English. “There must be a hidden door.”
The sludge began to sizzle, burning as it approached.
Alice frantically ran her hands across the shelves, knocking off the vases as Peyton checked the opposite wall. The flowers fell into the sludge, immediately wilting before turning black.
“It’s over here!” Peyton called, pulling at the inbuilt shelf. Alice jumped, landing beside Peyton with her palms slapping the panels. One of them shifted, and voices floated out.
“What do you want me to do?” Freya cried.
“What’s wrong with you?” Another voice joined in. “Were you trying to get caught?”
“Have you felt her power, Sister?” Freya wailed. “She was feeling for my chi! She knew I had something to do with it.”
“So you took someone she knew?”
“She’s here! The wards won’t keep her out for long!”
“You've already put us to shame with writing your little book. How long really did you think this would last?”
Alice gestured for Peyton to stand back, the sludge kissing at their heels. “VENTILABIS!” The panels crumpled at the push, forcing open a doorway.
Freya sat on her knees in the centre of another pentagram, her white gown drenched in blood. A large screen was before her, the woman on it surprised before it flashed black.
Freya climbed to her feet with a shriek, a ball of green arcane coating her hands. She thew it towards the ceiling, the arcane bursting into fragments. Alice hurled herself to the right, covering Sam who was tied to a table.
“ARMA!” Her shield popped into existence around them, protecting from the green arcane that weakly rained down.
Freya snapped the cord at her neck, the pendant glowing. She had hidden her chi within a crystal, hiding her true power.
“PEYTON?” she shouted.
A sword appeared in Peyton’s hand, the blade curved. He launched himself towards Freya, the pentagram at her feet flashing as he stepped over. He was thrown, crashing into the corner and knocking over a candelabra, the candles falling.
Another shot of arcane hit Alice’s shield, stronger than before, followed by a feminine chuckle.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Alice chanted, carefully checking over Sam who remained unconscious.
Bile irritated the back of her throat. The muscles were exposed on his legs, the skin cut from high on both thighs. His knees and elbows were broken at an impossible angle, but she wasn’t sure if that was on purpose, or the fact he was stuck in mid-shift. His ears had elongated, pushing through his blonde strands that had been clumsily cut to just below his jaw.
“Okay, okay…” Using the knife on her thigh she cut the bonds, but she was unsure how to safely remove him.
Smoke tickled her nose.
Peyton circled Freya, struggling with the pentagram that forced him back each time. Fire crackled in the corner, the candles catching on the woven fabric that draped off a large wooden structure.
The loom.
It was pure white, the threads a metallic gold that reflected the image of the flames that began to eat at its frame.
Peyton appeared beside her, armour blackened as dark magic began to corrode at the metal. “The protection spell…”
Alice dropped her shield, the chi rebounding back with a snap. “Protect Sam.” Peyton looked between her and the flames, bowing his head. A familiar warmth grew from her chest, wild magic magnifying as she pulled from their familiar connection.
The loom creaked, the golden threads breaking one by one.
Alice turned, trusting him to get them out of there. “It’s over Freya.” Alice stepped her toe towards the edge of the circle, preparing herself as the spell flung her back. She twisted as she fell, rolling back onto her feet, her blade in hand. The runes down the steel flashed, shifting shape as she lifted it up.
Freya watched, eyes round in panic as she tried and failed to control the flames from within her pentagram. They moved past the protection lines, threatening her feet as she staggered back.
The spell would only protect her from those who wished her harm. The fire, however was a natural element unmanipulated and without intention.
Alice would only have to wait her out.
Lightning sparked at her fingertips, somehow attracting the fire that covered the whole left side of the room.
“Please,” Freya cried, hugging her arms to her chest. She looked frail, her age showing as she heaved in large sobs. “I was only doing what I was told!”
Alice felt the intense heat begin to curl up her leg, reaching her outstretched palms. The real fire mingled with her own, the blue flames absorbing the red.
“How? How?” Freya stuttered. “What are you?” She dropped to her knees, the bones in her shoulders visible through her thin skin. “Let me serve you!” Her skin began to peel, melting from the intense heat as it circled around her.
Alice would have felt sorry for her, but then she remembered the victims partially drowned and stripped of their skin. She remembered Ash lost beneath the water, and then she remembered Sam.
“ALICE!”
The fire roared in her ears, stirring her rage and compelling her to finish it just as wild magic pulsated through her blood stream. They amplified each other, witch and Fae. She could taste it, the magic, the limitless power.
Freya fell beneath the heat.
Kill her.
A voice, a whisper.
“ALICE!” Peyton appeared beside her, teeth bared and skin pinkening. “LEVEL IT DOWN!”
He shouted in her face, yet his voice was distant, distorted.
Make him kill her.
He cut their connection, the warmth gone but the wild magic was already hers.
Kill them both.
“ALICE!”
Peyton collapsed to his knees.
Alice blinked, the flames dying instantly. The surrounding concrete creaked from the loss of the heat, cracking and threatening to collapse around them.
The roar was gone, but Peyton wheezed, weakened at her feet. She reached for him, his face red, blistered. “Are you okay?” He pulsed beneath her fingertips.
“Fuck this familiar shit,” he managed to croak, eyes hard when he looked
up.
Alice laughed, because if she didn’t she would cry.
Freya moaned, passed out and flesh burned, but alive.
She wanted to be angry at Peyton for stopping her, but she wasn’t. Freya had broken one of the rules, rules created by The Magicka for the protection of their own Breed. It didn’t matter that Freya didn’t die at Alice’s hand, because there was only one punishment for practicing black magic.
Death.
Alice just hoped they skinned her alive first.
Chapter 22
Peyton crossed his arms, the armour long gone and replaced with his usual work attire of a shirt, slacks and a long black coat. The skin on his face had been cleaned, and a non-stick plaster had been applied. The female nurses had gasped when he had walked in, fawning over the wound as if he had been sliced in half instead of a small burn. Alice wouldn’t have been surprised if they had kissed it better.
With a sigh she rested her head against the wall. They were outside Freya’s private hospital room, handing her over to the covering officer while she received treatment. Apparently she had second degree burns across sixty per cent of her skin, but Alice didn’t care, all she wanted to do was find Sam.
“They won’t let you in yet,” Peyton murmured beside her. “They need to fix him up.”
“What, so you can hear my thoughts now?”
Peyton chuckled, “no, but it’s where I would be if I were you.”
Alice grunted, the scent of soot and burned flesh mingling with the metallic tang of bleached stainless steel that was the hospital. “She never said why.”
Peyton turned to face her.
“Freya,” Alice said. “She never said why she did what she did.”
“You mean why she wrote a book about her own crimes?”
“Yeah, I mean was it for the youth? The publicity?”
Knight's War: A Witch Detective Urban Fantasy (Alice Skye series Book 5) Page 16