Winter Fire: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Coldharbour Chronicles Book 3)

by Richard Amos

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Jake’s letter to Michael…

  About the Author

  Also by Richard Amos

  Copyright © 2018 Richard Amos

  All Rights Reserved

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

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Cover by JMN Art

  Formatting by Gina Formats Words

  Chapter One

  I was too late. Intestines spilled out of the man on the steel table, glistening in the glow of the fire in the center of the room, and there was no longer a head attached to the body.

  Bollocks! Poor bloke.

  In fact, one of the gathered beasts was holding the man’s head by the hair as he howled the name of Lilisian. His comrades formed a circle around him and the corpse, echoing his howls.

  These beasts were lovingly called piggy-slicers, piggies for short, on account of their pig heads, pink humanoid bodies decorated with patches of brown fur, and their hands with blades for knuckles. Not nice to bump into on a cold January night.

  Here I was, late and freezing my nuts off, peering through the warehouse window with Greg beside me.

  Nay and Dean were on the opposite side of this rundown building, abandoned back in the days of the 1980s. It was in the center of the city, in a small complex of warehouses whose occupiers had left it behind to venture into the massive industrial quarter to the west. Ironically, that was abandoned now too, due to the beast gates being there and all that.

  The night was a little breezy, the trees nearby creaking to add a dash of creepiness to this whole scenario. The moon was out, granting a nice amount of light, but not too much to spoil the art of espionage.

  I could smell the piggies from here. They really embodied the whole pigs in shit thing. I tried not to breathe through my nose.

  There were eight of them and only four of us, but I was positive we could take them.

  Greg looked down at his phone, the screen light illuminating his dark face. My hands were buried in my coat pockets to hide the glow of white sparks that meant beasts were near. It wouldn’t do to be a target all lit up for these gross gits to swarm on.

  “Nay says there’s four at the doors, just inside,” Greg whispered.

  “So, that’s twelve then,” I replied in a hushed tone. “Crap.”

  “Yeah.” He put his phone away. “They’re coming back round.”

  According to the beast app, created by Naomi, piggy-slicers were not graceful fighters, but wild creatures who would tear and rip and savage. This was my first time facing them, but Greg and Nay had been up against them once before—having seen a man have his limbs ripped off during a fight.

  Yikes!

  Minutes later, Dean and Nay rejoined us.

  “Need to think this one through,” Nay said.

  My body tensed at Dean’s presence, as it always did since that kiss of Christmas Day. That’d been four weeks ago. I was an idiot, but I avoided him whenever I could, while returning the memory of his lips on mine over and over again.

  Damn. I had to sort this mess out somehow, make up for the fact that I’d kissed him when I shouldn’t have been thinking about other men. My husband had been murdered over a year ago—almost a year and three months—and I couldn’t do this … just couldn’t. Not yet…

  Guilt, guilt everywhere and way too much to drink. Urgh.

  Dean was keeping his distance too, but having to work and live together didn’t make it easy. I knew this whole thing was stupid, that I should just talk to him. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, lack of communication is a fool’s game. Yet, here I am again! So, no lesson learned. Talk about confused. I wanted to know why he’d kissed me, what it was he saw in me when he’d been with women previously?

  My neurosis was getting worse. I gave myself a mental slap and focused.

  “I say we retreat back to the mansion for now,” Dean said.

  Man, that baritone, the voice of sex …

  What the hell? Another mental slap ensued.

  “Yep,” Nay agreed. “The victim is dead, there’s nothing we can do now with those numbers up against us.”

  I sighed. “Feel’s shit to walk away.”

  “Will feel shitter to die,” Dean answered, tone pure ice.

  I didn’t respond.

  “Too right,” Greg said. “Come on.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, mate. We’ll get these fuckers somehow.”

  Movement came from the shadows around the corner of the building. It sounded like a scuffle.

  I got ready, as did my guardians. We’d been spotted. Shit!

  Something was being dragged …

  My nightmare stepped into view, white eye blazing in the dark. I hadn’t seen him since I thought he’d been killed, though I’d received some texts from him to confirm he continued to breathe. How he’d gotten my number still remained a mystery.

  “Hi,” he said. Something was thrashing behind him.

  He still rocked his long black coat and his black eye patch, his hair long, dark, and greasy. He had a fuller beard, and he still had that grin—one of a cat who not only got the cream, but had just won a lifetime supply of mice. It made me want to find some bricks and smash his face in.

  “Can’t say it’s good to see you alive,” I retorted.

  “You kill me with your words,” he responded pleasantly. “Where’s the great big thank you for saving your life?”

  “Fuck off.”

  That just made his grin even wider.

  “What’re you doing here?” Nay asked.

  The white eye guy turned around and dragged a piggy into the moonlight—gagged and bound with rope. “Found this little fella snooping around in the shadows, trying to get the drop on you.”

  I felt myself frown.

  “You got a problem with any word relating to thanks, Jake?” he asked.

  I clenched my fists in my pockets.

  “Thank you,” Dean offered.

  My head snapped round to my guardian. “Don’t give him what he wants.”

  “We haven’t got time for this shit. We have to get out of here before the whole lot come out to meet us.”

  Dean didn’t look at me as he spoke.

  I gnawed my bottom lip, seeing as I
couldn’t really do my favorite thing of chewing my nails when the anxiety bubbled up.

  “Speaking of which,” the white eye guy added, “this isn’t the whole congregation.”

  “What?” I said.

  He chuckled. “You do make me laugh, Jake.”

  What the hell? “Just say what you’re gonna say.”

  He winked his one white eye at me. “There’s another twenty or so piggies heading this way right now. A proper party is gonna be kicking off.”

  “Any victims?” Greg asked.

  “Of course. From what I could see, there were two men and two women ready to be sacrificed to that bitch.”

  Lilisian, the Supreme level beast who’d yet to make another appearance since Christmas Day—that’d been a bloody day of events … with bells on! I was on constant high alert. We all were.

  “We can’t leave them,” I said.

  “You have no choice,” the white eye guy said.

  “They’ll be killed. They’re—”

  “He’s right,” Dean cut in. “You know he is, Jake.”

  I wanted to throw up. Leaving innocent victims to have their guts ripped out and heads chopped off? This wasn’t right, even if the white eye guy was correct.

  I simply sighed and shook my head in helpless response. Damn.

  “Tell us about this sacrificing business,” Nay said.

  Floyd, our talking beast head, had mentioned this event in the vague way he enjoyed spilling the beans. I really wanted to use him as a football, but he did have his uses so I had to restrain my lust to kill him. But he’d told us enough about some sacrificial rituals going on in honor of Lilisian around Coldharbour, one of which we’d stopped last week that’d been made up of hyena beasts chanting away. No deaths, thank God!

  But not so successful tonight …

  The white eye guy cocked an eyebrow. “You want to stand and chat around here now. Right now?”

  “Oh, shut it,” Nay hissed. “Fine, we can chat somewhere else.”

  “No,” I said.

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Dean snapped. “We need information.”

  If my muscles tensed any more they’d pop.

  “Listen to the man, Jacob,” the white eye guy said with a sneer.

  “Don’t call me Jacob.”

  Greg growled. “You’re one step closer to having your face smashed in.”

  “Such aggression toward a man offering a helping hand.”

  “A man who has a plan all of his own,” I countered, “with Lilisian being the spanner in the works right now to stop it from happening.”

  Dean turned to look at me. “Can we not do this?”

  His dark eyes glinted in the lunar light, boring into me, weakening any steely wall I had built. I had to look away, too pathetic under their scrutiny.

  “I like him,” the white eye guy said.

  Where were those bricks? “Shut up!”

  “Rather than run your mouth, why don’t you come over here and kill this beast so we can go and get a burger.”

  “A burger?” Nay said.

  I rolled my eyes and went to do my job. Standing above the trussed-up beast, I pulled my hands free from the confines of my coat. My sparks went wild as the helpless creature squirmed and thrashed. It was doomed. I grabbed hold of its head and delivered the killing touch that only I could perform.

  I made short work of the golden, diamond-shaped light in the place of fog—the heart of a beast’s essence. Thirty seconds hadn’t even passed before I was back outside the warehouse.

  A wave of euphoria from the killing, feeding my power, went through me. I rode it as I was led away by Greg.

  “Good,” the white eye guy said, keeping pace with me.

  Greg was between him and me. “Back off some more.”

  “I’m so happy you have these people as your guardians, Jacob. Does help me sleep a little at night.”

  “You still here?” I wondered, coming down from the wave.

  “We’re going for a burger, remember?”

  We walked down a small road, tall trees and broken wire fences on either side. It was quiet and secluded. Greg opened his new black Mercedes.

  “Obviously, you’re not getting in this car,” Greg said.

  The white eye guy smiled. “Don’t worry, it looks like a penis extension.”

  Greg growled. “Jealous wanker.”

  “Think what you like.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Meet me at Belly Heaven.”

  He swept off down the road.

  “What does he mean by that?” Greg said, fuming. “This is a nice fucking car.”

  “It is,” I said. “Ignore the prick.”

  “My penis don’t need extending!”

  Nay giggled and got into the front passenger seat.

  Great. That meant I was in the back with Dean again.

  “What you laughing for?” Greg demanded.

  “Just get in the car,” Nay said. “Don’t be so sensitive. I’m sure your penis is just fine.”

  “It is!” He got into the driver’s seat. “What a dick head.”

  “Just worry about getting out of here,” Nay said.

  Greg started the engine. A soft purr followed, and he pulled away.

  I did my best to not look to my left, keeping firmly to my corner of the car. A part of me wanted to slide across the leather seats to be closer to him, to take his hand even.

  I chewed my nails, eyes fixed on the world beyond the window.

  “Why would he say that, though?” Greg said. “This ain’t the type of car for men having a mid-life crisis. And I ain’t mid-life yet.”

  “Why are you so bothered?” I asked. “You know he’s a complete tosser.”

  “That’s petty shit I hate. You don’t go after a man’s car.”

  “You need a long, hard look at yourself,” Nay added, “if this is gonna rile you up.”

  Dean chuckled next to me. “I reckon he’s just jealous, mate. You telling me he wouldn’t give his left nut to kick back in these seats?”

  I saw Greg grin in the rear-view mirror. “You’re so right.”

  “This is one sweet ride.”

  Greg snorted. “The man gets it. Cheers, Dean.”

  “It is a nice car,” I added.

  “Yeah,” Nay agreed. She turned to me and rolled her eyes. Greg had to be soothed when it came to his wheels.

  “Think we can have someone spit in his burger?” I wondered. “Preferably me?”

  Nay laughed. “Don’t waste perfectly good saliva on him.”

  I folded my arms. “I just want him to come out with it—why he keeps wanting to help. I hate all this gray area bollocks. It was better when he was purely on my hit list without any other complications.”

  “He makes my head hurt,” Nay said.

  “He’s still on my hit list, by the way,” I added.

  Greg turned the car onto the main road that would lead us back down to Rainbow Mile on the seafront.

  My stomach was in knots at the thought of being in close proximity to a man I wanted to hurt in so many dreadful ways, then kill him later. Yet again, when it came to this scum bag, I was gonna have to put my good boy pants on and behave.

  He had information, a whole bloody heap of it.

  Chapter Two

  The white eye guy was at a table when we arrived, perusing a menu as if he had all the time in the world.

  I sat down opposite him, my guardians taking up the other seats around the table. Belly Heaven was a great little place, but now it’d been tainted with his presence. It was a place with no thrills, no fancy lighting or décor—favoring a brown and beige look that was nice and homey. And its two cooks made some bloody awesome grub.

  The cafe was quiet on this Wednesday night, only an elderly man-eating fish and chips while reading a paper, and two women scanning their menus too. The white eye guy had picked a table well away from them.

  “The double beef burger with bacon and cheese looks great,” he said.

/>   “You’re not seriously ordering food are you?” I said, picking up a tomato ketchup bottle from the middle of the table.

  He peered over his menu at me with his single, ghostly orb. “Earth to Jake! We’re in a café.”

  “Shut up!”

  “Testy. Don’t eat. I couldn’t care less. Oh! I’m having dirty fries and onion rings.” He licked his lips. “Strawberry milkshake to wash it down.” He handed me the menu. “Sure you’re not tempted?”

  “Just get on with what you have to tell us,” Nay said. “We’re not hungry.”

  “How could anyone not be hungry in this lovely little place?”

  A waiter approached the table. He was young and dark-haired. “Hi ya, mate!” he exclaimed

  He fist-bumped the white eye guy. “How you doing, Dan?”

  “Yeah, good. You?”

  Oh, my God! He was only a friggin regular!

  “Not bad. These are my friends Jake, Dean, Greg and Naomi.” He winked at me.

  “Hi,” Dan said. “Seen some of you in here before.”

  “Hello,” I answered softly.

  My guardians mumbled their greetings.

  “So, what you all having?” Dan asked.

  The white eye guy put in his order and then said, “Why don’t you bring out some extra fries and onion rings for the table? My mates are more in the mood for grazing.”

  I gnawed the shit out of my bottom lip, my legs rocking back and forth. I drew air in through my nose, held it, and let it out through my mouth.

  “Four teas please,” Greg said.

  My head snapped round of its own volition. Greg shrugged. “What? I could do with a cuppa.”

  Dan wrote everything down and went off.

  “Start talking,” I said.