Tainted Waters: A Dark Paranormal Fantasy Novel (Paranormal Peacekeepers Book 1)

by Lucretia Stanhope

  Tainted Waters

  Paranormal Peacekeepers

  Lucretia Stanhope

  Tainted Waters: Paranormal Peacekeepers

  Copyright © 2018 by Lucretia Stanhope

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2018

  ISBN 978-1548827045

  Also by Lucretia Stanhope

  Elemental Witch Trial Novels

  Blessedly Bound

  Burning Captivation

  Fateful Attractions

  Familiar Betrayal

  Alterations

  Tempered Fury

  Thorns

  Sweet Suffering

  Malevolent Manifestation

  Timeless Trouble

  Romantic Horror

  Beating Hearts

  Paranormal Fantasy

  Unfamiliar Territory

  Horror

  Rather Be Fishing: Tales of a Reluctant Monster Hunter

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‘For, you see, so many out of the way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.’ C.S. Lewis - Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland: Chapter One Down the Rabbit Hole

  Chapter One

  “HEY! SLOW DOWN.” Alice stumbled over the roots and fallen branches on the forest floor as she quickened her pace. Thorny brambles snared her boot. They held her foot in place, while her body propelled forward. She grappled for the closest tree. Rough bark scratched her palm as she tightened her grip. Nice save, graceful.

  With a twist, she freed her foot. A blister on her ankle popped. The scent of decaying leaves carried on a breeze, chilling the sweat on her exposed skin.

  The white rabbit her coven sent to guide her, paused a few feet ahead. It stood on its hind legs with its ears flicking.

  “I don’t see what the great rush is.” She peered up.

  Slivers of light pierced the canopy of trees, capturing the dust that rose from rustling leaves and earth. It was still daytime. For how long?

  She tightened her hold on the headlamp strap. “The nettle isn’t going anywhere, and it isn’t like we’re expected back for tea and cake.”

  Alice rubbed the tight muscles of her jean-covered calves. How many hours had she been following the rabbit? She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her blue, flannel outer-shirt, seeking warmth now that she stopped.

  The rabbit turned in the direction of crunching leaves.

  “It’s just squirrels. I haven’t felt a soul since we left the coven.” Alice followed the rabbit’s gaze. “Do you understand me?”

  A twig snapped.

  The rabbit hopped away. Its white fur blurred against the greens and browns.

  “Wait! I don’t know where the cave is.” Alice gave chase. Her heartbeat pounding in her ears, drowned out the natural litter snapping underfoot. “Don’t leave me alone out here.”

  Her breathing grew ragged, drying her mouth. It left her, lost in the woods. How near dark was it?

  “Hello?” The emptiness around her swallowed her words. “Mister rabbit?”

  She took a few slow steps, and gazed up again, trying to use the direction of the light beams that broke through the foliage to gain her bearing.

  The rabbit circled back, and scurried forward again.

  It hadn’t abandon her. Not yet.

  Twinges of pain splintered from her feet as she hurried to follow it over the uneven terrain.

  When the woods opened into a clearing, she stopped and hunched over, hands rested on her knees.

  The rabbit hopped through the overgrown grass. It paused to regard her a moment, before it vanished into a cave opening.

  A shiver raced up her back when a cool breeze blew over her sweat-covered brow. Was this worth it?

  “I don’t need to belong to a coven.” She chewed her lip and glanced behind her toward the forest. Going back was an option. Was there enough daylight to make it back to the coven? Lost in the woods, even after dark, might be better than lost in a cave.

  Her hands balled into fists in her pockets while she weighed the reasons for going in the cave against her fear of the dark. Plants didn’t grow in caves, they needed light. Most things needed light to thrive. “Including your bravery.” Her own mocking propelled her forward a few steps, until she stood at the cave mouth.

  Damp air with a light, wet aroma hung around the opening. A cursory glance told her that only a few feet inside and there wouldn’t even be lowlight. Nothing could grow in there except despair. The whole trek was a fool’s errand, more than likely to test her loyalty to the coven, or worse, some hazing ritual.

  “Solitary witches are perfectly capable of …”

  A bush rustled behind her.

  Her words and mind silenced.

  Alice scanned the thicket. It couldn’t be the rabbit. That impatient creature ran headlong into the darkness of the cave.

  The curious eyes of a small deer stared back at her. It wasn’t a monster. Not a spiteful witch having a laugh at her expense. A deer.

  Alice turned back to the opening, and tucked a lock of her short, blonde hair behind her ear. Might as well search for the nettle. She inched one hand toward the opening. Her fingers shook. She held her breath a beat, yanked it back, and inspected it for injuries.

  “What did you expect?” Her voice still held a tremble when she answered her own question. “Maybe monsters, or to be sucked into a void.”

  Her lips pursed. Talking to herself wasn’t getting her any closer to completing the task. The fingers of her other hand rubbed the elastic band of the headlamp, steadying her nerves. The toe of her shoe kicked at the compressed earth under her feet.

  One small step. What could it hurt? She had to at least go inside. They were probably watching. More than likely laughing.

  Her weight shifted from one foot to the other.

  A white flash appeared. The rabbit emerged from the shadows, nose twitching, eyes judging.

  “I’m coming. I was coming.” Alice pulled the headlamp on, and pressed the button three times to put it on the brightest setting. “Ready?”

  The rabbit moved two hops away. In the inky opening, the details of its face grew unclear.

  A deep breath in and out carried on it a strange blend of fresh and decay, but did nothing to slow her heartbeat, or release the tension in Alice’s neck.

  Before her imagination could pull up any one of the hundred images of what might be waiting in the shadows, she took a step forward.

  Inside the opening there was a small bit of light. Two more steps and only the light from her headlamp remained. />
  She held her hand up in the beam. The damp air hung heavy, similar to the pond by her childhood home on overcast days. Even in the cold, her palms sweated. She swallowed against a dry lump and studied what she could see of the cave.

  It was too dark to make out any details without standing right next to the wall. Details didn’t matter. They went off in a narrow tunnel, straight in front of her. That was all she needed to know. The walls could have spiders, or any manner of crawling, biting things.

  Alice calculated her next few steps. Even with careful placement, the slope forced her forward faster than she wanted. She pushed a hand against the wall to slow herself, and yanked it back, before anything had the chance to crawl over it.

  “Where are the plants?” She raised her voice.

  The rabbit didn’t respond. Magic rabbits couldn’t talk, could they?

  Alice closed her eyes. The magic vibrating out from the little creature still tickled her senses. She turned back to the entrance. A small beam of light in the distance fought and lost the war against the blackness.

  “I’ll walk to the end of this tunnel. If there are no plants, I’m done.” Alice took another step. The tip of her boot hit a rock. She groaned and kept moving.

  The tunnel narrowed. She rotated her shoulder, not wanting to brush the wall and pick up a hitchhiker, or start an avalanche. Was it called an avalanche in a cave?

  “Don’t be absurd. It’s called death. A little rabbit won’t be able to dig you out, will it?” Her voice echoed. How far in do you get before the echoes start?

  A glance back confirmed she was deep enough that the opening light vanished. Can’t be much farther. Her pace picked up, which propelled her down the slope faster.

  The heel of her right foot rolled over a rock. Forgetting the bugs, or avalanche fears, she grappled at the walls. Her elbows locked, arms spanning from side to side. It didn’t slow her.

  After several more awkward steps, her feet hit the flat ground of a chamber. A twinge of heat flashed in her ankle.

  She took a step into the massive opening, and leaned over, rubbing above her ankle, while gathering herself. Her breaths remained shallow.

  The beam from her lamp didn’t reach the ceiling when she tilted her head back. How could a room so vast feel so claustrophobic? The soles of her boots crunched smaller rocks as she took a few steps, and ran her hand along a large rock jutting up. The rock towered over her five-foot-eight by another two heads.

  Without her feet crunching or steps echoing back, water dripping in the background filled the cavern with a musical quality. “Plants need water.” For the first time in hours, her voice held a glimmer of hope.

  Alice crossed the room, keeping her eyes down on the unevenness of the floor. Even with water, plants needed soil to grow.

  Her shoulders slumped with each step on the hard-rocky surface. “Of course it’s rocks, it’s a cave.” In the chamber, the echo amplified her voice, before shooting it back.

  She allowed a smile to lift her lips. “Hello.” Alice stopped and listened as the room greeted her with her own hello several times, each repetition losing some volume. A flash of white caught her eyes, interrupting her before she called out another hello. “There you are.”

  Alice dipped her chin, letting the beam of light come to rest on the rabbit, who was sitting a few feet away. A circle of mushrooms surrounded it.

  Life. Could nettle grow here too? It wasn’t a mean prank. She raced toward the mushroom-looking objects. When she was close enough to get a good look, her lamp revealed they were rocks arranged in a circle. That couldn’t be natural. It wasn’t nettle, but it meant someone had been there.

  The rabbit wiggled its nose and bounced away.

  “What does it mean? Who made that?” The last foolish apprentice? She turned as the sensation of the rabbit’s magic blinked away.

  Water dripped from above, falling in front of her. The freshness that greeted her at the entrance, perfumed the air, reminding her of a summer rain. She kept her head tilted up as she walked, but couldn’t pinpoint the source.

  Cool drops hit her face and tickled as they ran across her skin. Different. Infused with something. Earth maybe? It traveled through soil and rock to get there. More than that. It wasn’t natural. Enchanted.

  Her feet skidded on loose rubble. A swear word drifted from her lips. She braced for the impact against the ground, and closed her eyes.

  Nothing slammed into her. Something cocooned her, sweeping her in the air, suspended.

  Alice opened her eyes and wiggled against the hard, vine net holding her. Looking down, the lamplight disappeared into the dark chasm below. A knot of bile forced its way up her throat.

  This was beyond a prank. They had gone too far. Were they there, in the shadows? “If this is how you treat an apprentice, I don’t want to be any part of your circle.”

  Above her she couldn’t make out a ceiling, but water continued to drip down on her in a mist. The more seconds that ticked by, the more the vines cut into her. Thorns? That was a bit much for a prank.

  She turned her head to the side. The chamber was a few feet away, but if she tried to get out of the net, she would fall straight down into the blackness for god only knew how far.

  Anger competed with fear as she thought more about her coven doing this to her. Were they trying to get her to show them what she was capable of in a pinch?

  Using magic haphazardly was never a good idea, especially since she was untrained. Undoing a hasty casting could take days, weeks, an eternity.

  “I’m not amused. Let me down.” Her voice echoed back at her, but it was the only response.

  She thought about the last few days. No one had been especially nice, but if she had to peg this cruel prank on anyone, it would be Chester. He’d been flinging awful spells and dirty looks at her since she arrived. “Chester?”

  She shifted and a thorn poked her arm, drawing a drop of blood. “You let me down, or I will turn you into the troll you are.”

  Alice drew some power into her fingertips. A spark emitted and she gasped. Images of the vines catching on fire, breaking, and dropping her, played out in vivid detail.

  Footsteps and voices grew near.

  Her head turned and her eyes squinted as she strained to see in the distance. When whoever it was neared the edge of the opening she dangled over, she made out vague forms moving in the shadows.

  “Let me down before you regret it.” Her voice resonated loudly because she shouted to appear brave in front of her annoying peers.

  Whispers below her drifted up. “Witch … magic … stay back … cut it down … let it fall.”

  “What the hell? Don’t play games, Chester. You get me down now.” She pushed a finger outside the vines, so any sparks would drift away from them, and sent a small, non-threatening bolt down as a reminder that even though she was untrained, she was a caster.

  Sounds of shuffling drifted up from below, accompanied by a cold chill that encircled her. Frigid air hummed against her skin with magic unlike anything she put off. She tried to look down again, but the net swayed. Her fingers gripped the vines. “Please, let me down.”

  “Kill it,” echoed back at her.

  Alice shivered. Kill it? Me? Kill me?

  The snare dropped in a free fall, before catching. Vines yanked tight, pressing thorns into her flesh. She laced her fingers through the opening, bracing for more movement. The lowering continued, steadier this time.

  “Hello?” Alice wiggled, arranging herself to see below.

  A pasty figure moved in the shadows. Too pasty to be human. What could it be? Monsters weren’t real. Not really real.

  Her grip tightened. Blood ran down her arm from the cuts on her hand and wrist.

  Rocks crunched. How many were down there? She closed her eyes tight and thought over the spells she had at hand.

  The net swayed. She opened her eyes. Her screams echoed, though the pounding of her heart in her ears drowned it out.

 
; The pasty thing holding the vine sneered at her. A mouth full of teeth opened, saying things she couldn’t understand. Alice screamed until her throat dried and her screams refused to come.

  Black eyes stared at her, as it cocked its head. The pointed nose twitched. “Why are you here?”

  A shiver raced over her. No words came. She shook her head.

  The creature handed the main vine to one of two other similar looking monsters. He made a circle using loose rocks, and walked along the outer edge while chanting, “encaium, helioubrium, lasteriuos.”

  A mage? A witch? No, not human. “I’m here for the coven.”

  It stopped walking. A magic hum radiated from the circle. It extended its arm, waving long, slender fingers. “Bringathum, levathianus, pretndruim.”

  The net rocked, moving closer to the ledge. It reached out grabbing the bottom and swung her closer.

  Hot breaths blew over her skin. “That sparkle in your eyes. Blue. It’s water magic?”

  Sparkle? Her mouth formed an o. “I’m a witch.”

  The thing flung the net, ripping it free and sending her to the ground.

  “What are you?” Alice kicked against the vines, freeing herself.

  “Why are you here, witch?”

  No words came out of her opened mouth. Her gaze flicked across his sharp features, coming back to his pointed ears. “Elf? Pixie?”

  “Why are you here, witch?” The repetition was not an echo.

  She met his dark stare. “They sent me.” Her voice cracked.

  “Kill her.” Another figure stepped beside him and nodded toward her. “She’s been sent by …”

  “Hush,” the one who’d lowered her said. “They? Who sent you?”

  Alice paled. Tears and trembles followed, but no words.

  The smaller of the other things backed up, a low gasp escaped from his gaping mouth. “Witch’s tears!”

  “Don’t touch it! There is blood, witch’s blood. How will we cleanse this spot?” The larger of the other two also stepped back, shaking his head. “Push it over, sir, before it’s too late.”