Witch's Sorrow: A Witch Detective Urban Fantasy (Alice Skye Series Book 1)

by Taylor Aston White

  There were times when people actually protested against the use of living organisms in spells, bringing up the morality of killing a living being, even if it was just a plant. But it was quickly dismissed as being ludicrous. If people really got upset over killing plants, then a lot of people would be suffering from guilt when trimming houseplants or cutting their grass.

  “Hello Miss,” a small voice called.

  “Hello?” she asked, looking around the abandoned market.

  “Over here,” the falsetto tone beckoned, coming from the alley opposite.

  Alice hesitated, peering into the shadows. “Can I help you?”

  “No, but I may be able to help you child.” An old woman stepped forward, her multicoloured patchwork dress brushing the ground as she moved. “May I read your fortune?” She gave a toothy grin, her two front teeth missing.

  “No, thank you. I don’t believe in fortune telling,” she answered, dismissing the woman.

  “Very controversial for a witch.”

  Alice froze. “You sound so sure that I’m a witch?” Alice almost checked to see if she had a pointy hat on, which of course she didn’t.

  “Aye witch, can smell you a mile off. Come for a fortune.” She held out a dark hand, encouraging Alice to come with her.

  “Like I said, I don’t believe in fortune telling.”

  “Please, no charge. I see the warnings in the cards.”

  “Warnings?”

  “Yes. Warnings.” She shook her head forward in a violent motion, her grey dreadlocks swinging intensely. “They are coming.” She held out her hand again, her oversized rings catching the light. “You have seen him.”

  “Who is coming? Seen who?”

  The old woman started to turn away.

  “Wait…” Alice reached out. “You said ‘you have seen him.’ Seen who?”

  “My cards can tell you.” An oversized smile again. “Follow me.” She moved away, no care for her dress as it mopped up the grime along the floor.

  Alice wavered, debating what to do. Fuck. It went against her training, but she needed to know what she meant, so she followed after her.

  “Please. Please. Sit.” The woman pulled out a chair from the small round table, taking a seat on the throne opposite. The room was as you would predict a fortune teller’s shop should look like. The walls draped artfully with velvet fabric, a mixture of reds, pinks and purples. A wooden freestanding bookcase leant against the wall, feathers, skulls, books and candles sitting neatly atop it. The flames flickered, making shadows dance against the drapes.

  At least there wasn’t a glass orb sitting neatly in the middle of the table, Alice joked to herself. Because that would be total overkill.

  “Please child. Sit.” She shuffled the cards in her hand, the noise sharp against the silence. Sitting in her chair she faced the old woman, her eyes matching her withered dark skin.

  “Now, normally you would ask a question and the cards would answer, this time however I feel we need to do this slightly differently. Your first card,” she said, shuffling the pack. “This is your past.” She held the cards out, allowing Alice to pick one.

  “Death,” the old woman stated, as she placed the card face up on the wooden table. “The death card is wildly misunderstood. Most people worry at the prospect of death, but that is not what I see with you. The card portrays an armoured, skeletal figure astride a stallion, black. Death passes people from all walks of life and each is affected differently, you see on the card a man, a priest full of his faith rewarding the afterlife, rewarding death. A young woman turns away out of fear, yet kneels obediently, unable to control her destiny. Lastly a child, completely innocent lays dead flowers by the stallion’s hooves, blissfully ignorant of the horrors that are happening.”

  Alice stared intently at the card, not understanding the meaning.

  “Your second card. The present.” She held out the pack again. “Ah, the high priestess.” She placed the card next to death, tapping it gently with her finger. “The high priestess is you.”

  “Me?” Alice asked, confused.

  “The high priestess indicates that you are seeking knowledge, but such knowledge requires great discipline.” She tapped her finger against the woman’s face. “The woman sits between two pillars, one light and one dark. One positive and one negative, you are drawn from outside influences, torn between two.”

  The woman shuffled the remaining cards further before grabbing another.

  “The high priestess is not alone, the ace of wands helps guide her.” She placed the ace of wands cards below the high priestess, overlapping. “The ace of wands is the element of fire within the tarot pack, the power of will, sexuality, full of passion, desire.”

  She slammed the cards on the table, making Alice jump at the sudden movement.

  “What does this all mean?” Alice asked, still distracted by the death card. “This is ridiculous,” she said, heading towards the door.

  An arm grabbed her, nails digging into skin. Turning, Alice faced the woman, ice shooting through her chest. The woman’s once dark eyes had glazed over, the pupil’s pure white.

  “Please child, take this.” The woman thrust a card into her face. “We have the seven of swords. A man, as you can see is carrying five swords, two still at his feet. He’s tiptoeing away, looking behind him to check if he’s being caught, being followed. Betrayal or even deception on his face.”

  “What has he got to do with me?”

  “Are you being deceived my child? It is up to you to decide who or what that may be. You are not thinking with your head, you should listen to your intuition.”

  Erm, what?

  “Your last card.” She held the card between two fingers. “We have the king of swords. An authority figure, a cold warrior who acts on his own judgments.”

  “Okay, I think this is enough.” Alice grabbed the cards, crushing them in her hand before shoving them into her jacket pocket. Pulling away from the old woman she stormed out of the small shop, to turn face first into Riley’s chest. “Oh.”

  Riley grabbed her arms before she stumbled back. “What are you doing down here?” He frowned, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles along her forearms.

  “I was just...” She turned back to the shop, one that was completely closed, boarded up with old posters layered across where the door once was. “I was just...” What the fuck? The neon light fixture above the door was smashed, looking like it had been broken for a while. “I was doing nothing. Just needed to walk off the smell.”

  Riley stared intently, not believing her. Not wanting to get into a staring contest she turned her head further into the alley, stiffening as she noticed someone in a long cloak standing twenty feet away, a hood hiding its face.

  “Alice?” Riley tugged to get her attention.

  “Do you see it?” she asked quietly.

  “See what?” He frantically looked around, his eyes narrowing as he searched for threats.

  Alice continued to stare at the cloaked figure. “Nothing.”

  I’m going crazy. Batshit-la-la-land.

  “It’s nothing. It’s been a long day.” She tugged out of his grasp, shocked at the intense cold that instantly consumed his warmth. “We should go.” She gently barged past him, walking in the vague direction of the car park.

  “Alice, wait.” Riley’s long legs caught her up in no time.

  “Did you get what you need?” she asked to the air, her emotions too raw to face him.

  “What was that all about? I turned around and you were just gone.”

  “I said I needed some air.” He didn’t need to know she was losing it.

  She turned the corner, skidding to a stop when she noticed four men standing by her car. Riley faced towards the empty car park, his eyes hardening at the sight of the men.

  “Friends of yours?” he growled.

  I’m going to have to add this to my list of other bad decisions. She knew better, was trained better. Yet she was desperate, a
n increasingly bad feeling that seemed to overshadow her judgement.

  “Nope.” She unsheathed her sword, pulling it free from underneath her shirt. Riley looked over approvingly. The men all stood on edge as they approached, fidgeting and looking around the car park warily, their eyes focusing when they walked closer, one gripping a baseball bat in his shaking hands.

  “May we help you gentleman?” Riley asked, words like steel.

  “Our Pride Leader wants a word.” One of the men stepped forward, a scrap of dark greasy hair covering the majority of his face. His cheeks were hollow, veins visible beneath his pale skin. Several other men, just as malnourished as the first, stood a few feet behind their eyes vacant as they waited for instructions. She didn’t recognise any of them.

  “What’s your name?” she nonchalantly asked.

  He seemed confused for a second before replying. “Rupert.”

  “Well Rupert. You may tell Cole to go fuck himself for me,” she taunted.

  “You know we can’t do that.” His eyes flashed with worry before hardening.

  “Who are these guys?” Riley whispered, his face like stone when he faced her.

  “They’re from the local pride.”

  “They don’t look like lions.”

  “Enough,” the dark haired man snarled, his nails elongating with his anger. The comment seemed to wake up the other guys, making them step together as a unit. “Come now, or we will force you.”

  “If you wanted a date, you should have just asked,” she drawled, flipping her sword absently in the air. “But, you’re not my type.”

  “Your mouth must get you into a lot of trouble.” Riley murmured beside her, his fist clenching.

  “You have no idea.” She thought she heard a chuckle, but decided it must have been the wind.

  “Fine.” A silent signal passed between the men. The leader walked slowly towards Alice, an almost sad smile on his face. “You’re leaving us no choice.” His words slurred as his face slowly shifted in his anger, his control weakening.

  His nose grew, pulling his face into a contorted point, his jaw clicking as it widened, allowing room for the large canines that had begun protruding from his mouth. With a snarl he launched towards her, his malnutrition not hindering his speed.

  “Arma!” With a shout her aegis jumped into existence around her, the dark haired leader jumping straight into the side at full speed. The impact shook the shield, making Alice step back, straight into the side.

  “Riley, don’t kill them!” she shouted.

  Riley dodged a punch to his head, bending at the waist while kicking out at the person behind.

  “Why?” he growled, throwing more punches. The lion’s head snapped back with an audible crack, falling into his friend.

  Two down.

  “Just please, don’t...” Rupert rugby tackled her, pinning her to the floor.

  Bringing her blade up she blocked his mouth as it aimed for her neck, the blade caught between his inhumanly long jaws. “For fuck sake, I’m trying…” She reached into her boot. “Not to…” Unsheathed a small dagger. “Hurt you.” She slashed the blade down his side, deep enough to hurt but not enough to be fatal. He howled out in pain, dropping her sword from his mouth.

  Kicking up she dislodged him just as a hand appeared around his throat, lifting his weight off of her. Riley threw the lion into his friend, a crash as they bumped into each other like bowling pins. Chasing after them Riley kicked one of them to the ground, making sure he wouldn’t get up any time soon.

  Jumping up Alice looked around at the chaos. Rupert was crushed against a dent in the driving side door, curled in on himself as he groaned. The last lion ran off, disappearing from view within seconds.

  “Shit. Riley, you’re hurt.”

  “Oh.” He looked down at the twin tears across the front of his t-shirt, blood oozing from the holes. “Fuck sake, this was one of my favourite shirts.”

  Alice turned back to her car, ignoring the lion groaning and rubbing his head. “I can’t believe you hit my car. I can’t afford a new one.” She kicked the bat lying absently by her wheel. She had no idea how it got there or how it had been snapped clean in half. She decided she didn’t care.

  Riley stalked over, pushing Rupert out of the way before leaning over and popping out the dent. “All new.”

  “Funny.” She re-sheathed her sword, eyeing him warily. He just took down two full grown shifters with ease, a third if she counted Rupert who he effortlessly threw against her car. Her fingers tingled, her blade heavy on the back as she weighed her options. He was definitely more of a threat than she first thought.

  “How many blades do you have in that small outfit of yours?” he asked, a playful smile on his face.

  “Enough.” She looked at him, feeling warmth grow in her stomach, her adrenaline reacting. He opened his mouth slightly, eyes narrowing. He stepped toward her as if he could feel the sudden connection.

  Fuck.

  Without a second thought she grabbed a spare knife from her other boot, and threw it at him.

  “Oh shit!” She blinked stupidly, gaping at what she had just done. Riley held her knife in front of his face, a fist circled around the blade. Blood dripped gently down his wrist, hitting the asphalt. Riley glared at her as he dropped the knife, squeezing his hand to stop the blood flow.

  What the fuck was that? His eyes seemed to say, but she couldn’t be sure.

  She had no idea what made her do that. He was fast, but not fast enough to catch the handle. She licked her dry lips, tensing when his eyes followed the nervous movement.

  “You’re driving,” she said after a few moments, the energy in the air still obvious. He accepted the keys silently, getting into the car without another word. The car rumbled to life, the warmth of the heaters welcome.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  She slid a side look towards Riley, his mouth open slightly as if he was gently panting, his throat swallowing as he concentrated on the road.

  Unable to stare at him any longer she turned to the window, counting the trees calmly between the streetlights. Feeling inside her jacket she pulled out the two tarot cards she had stashed in her pocket and ripped the death card in two, throwing it out the window. She felt the air move as Riley turned to see what she was doing, could even feel the air expel as he opened his mouth to speak before quickly turning to face the road once more.

  Closing the window she looked down at her last card. The king of swords sat on a throne, a long sword in his left hand, an owl sitting obediently on his right. ‘An authority figure’ the old woman had said, ‘a cold warrior who acts on his own judgments.’ She peered closer at the card, bringing it right up to her face, the king, with jewels encrusted around his neck wore a cloak of grey.

  Alice crushed the card in her hand.

  Chapter 27

  The car slowed before coming to a gradual stop, the clouds, having released their weight on the drive back, beat against the roof in a comforting rhythm. Britain was famous for the rain, although it did seem worse than usual.

  Riley had parked as close as he could to her place, the dark sky looming over them as she reached for the handle.

  “We need to talk.” Riley’s deep voice almost shook the small car. The atmosphere was still there, something she couldn’t describe, almost electric, like her chi was energised by simply being near him. It wasn’t as strong as before, but still there. Unnerved to say the least she watched his reflection carefully in the glass, wondering if he felt it too.

  Or was she simply losing her mind?

  Probably the latter.

  Sighing to herself she finally faced him, the lights from the dashboard creating a halo around his face, softening his masculine features.

  “Talk, huh?” she tried a side smile, feeling her face crack at the fakeness of it.

  “I need to see what you picked up from the cabin.”

  “What?” She felt it then, the weight of the rectangular box she picke
d up earlier. “Oh.” She had completely forgotten, thought of her cloaked ghost figure playing around in her mind. Reaching for it Riley’s hand snapped out, grabbing her wrist.

  “Don’t get it out here, we don’t know who’s watching.” She looked at him like he had sprouted a second head. Snatching her wrist away she opened the car door, the cool rain hitting her instantly as she walked briskly to the front of her building.

  The front door had been broken years ago when someone had forgotten their keys and decided to just kick the weak wood down. No one had bothered to fix it so she easily pushed the door open and started to climb the stairs.

  "Alice, we’re not finished."

  She continued her way up, feeling the hair on the back of her head rise as he effortlessly followed behind. “I think we are.” She felt anger grow, an unreasonable reaction considering it wasn’t his fault. Squeezing her fists tight she fought the sparks that threatened to release. She had to calm herself before it started to leak.

  “Alice?” Riley’s weary voice beside her as she walked towards her door.

  Techno music pumped through the hallway, broken up by the barks from Mrs Finch’s dogs. She could feel the fire start to burn up her throat, feel it react to Riley.

  “Keys, please.” She let out a breath, almost tasting the smoke. The door creaked open enough for her to push herself through, but not quick enough for Riley’s booted foot to shove the door the rest of the way open.

  “What’s wrong?” He spun her to face him, panic in her eyes as his hands held her shoulders. Air expelled out his throat, a growl erupting from his chest. Alice’s breasts pumped against the restriction of her clothes, her body too hot as she fought for control of the power that had awakened. She could feel the flames want to absorb him, testing his energy against her own. If she didn’t release it soon she might combust, or worse.

  Like a tap, the built up energy dissipated, cooling to a simmer.

  “Riley,” her voice cracked as she met his eyes, a deep grey encircled by a thin black. Glints of blue floated through his irises, giving the illusion of a mirror. She stared at those eyes, ones that weren’t just an illusion, they were actually mirroring her own image back at her. Her own eyes were heavy with a mixture of panic and arousal. Hair a mess, blonde strands circling her flushed face. “What did you do?”