Knight's War: A Witch Detective Urban Fantasy (Alice Skye series Book 5)

by Taylor Aston White

  “Release me from what, exactly?” He tugged her closer, pulling down the mask so his breath brushed across her face. She was tall, with the heels as tall as he was, which was just shy of six-foot. Unlike the mortals around them, ones who coughed and sneezed, she wasn’t effected by his anger. The emotion amplified his aura, one that made people sick.

  “You know exactly what I want to release,” she purred, her fingers on her free hand walking up his white shirt until she felt what called her beneath. “Now tell me Vladislav, what’s going to happen if I tug on this?” She pulled the chain from beneath the shirt, the coin at the end cool to the touch.

  Vlad hissed, pushing her away while quickly tugging his necklace back, hidden. “Who are you?” he growled in English.

  She felt her cheeks crack into a smile. “They call me... Pandora.”

  Chapter 10

  Hospitals were always cold, their corridors painted in white. Clinical.

  Needs to be pink, Alice thought to herself as she walked down yet another pale corridor. Maybe even green.

  Surely if the paint was bright, exciting it would make the patients feel slightly better? Rather than the drab, boring pallid ice that seemed to welcome death within its walls.

  Now, rainbow walls wouldn’t allow such horror, she mused.

  “What are you smiling about?” Peyton asked as they entered the examination room, his black trench coat a stark contrast to the bright white. It made her smile harder.

  “Nothing.”

  “Detective Peyton and Agent Skye?” a woman in a white lab coat asked when she looked up from her folder.

  “That’s us.” Alice smiled at the doctor, noting her name from the stitching on her breast pocket. Dr Vivian Anderson, Chief Pathologist.

  “That’s great, my colleague Dr Le’Sanza said you were punctual.”

  “Punctual?” Alice laughed, knowing her friend of many years had probably said a lot more than she was just ‘punctual.’ She missed him, but Miko had been working well at the Supernatural Intelligence Bureau’s Tower, and the last she heard he had accepted a permanent position there.

  “Apologies for the delay, the body has taken longer than usual to process.” The Dr went to pull back the white sheet when Alice stopped her.

  “We’re waiting for a third person.”

  Peyton grunted, his phone beeping a second later. “We’re not, we don’t have long. They’ve found another body.”

  “Already?”

  Dr Anderson tugged down the sheet in one swift movement, revealing a shock of red. “We will make this quick then.”

  Alice was prepared for the visual, but she couldn’t help her flinch. The woven fabric had been removed, leaving the man naked beneath. Muscles, tendons and even a bone or two wasn’t what bothered her, it was the exposed eyes that were forever open, his eyelids removed.

  “Do we have an I.D.?” Alice asked with a grimace.

  “No, and nothing on the missing persons register either, but that isn’t surprising considering he’s a shifter.”

  No, shifters very rarely asked for help outside their Breed as the majority were part of a group, pack, or pride. Even loners were known to the areas local Alpha.

  “What about the pets?” Peyton asked.

  “We can’t confirm as the veterinary had already disposed of the bodies, but from what he told me over the phone the details are very similar.”

  Alice opened her mouth for a question, but was stopped with a hesitant knock.

  Kyra pushed the door open, her large eyes open wide and framed in black. “Hello?”

  “Oh, is this the third person you was waiting for?” the Dr asked. “Hello, I’m Dr Anderson.”

  “Miss Farzan,” Peyton nodded in greeting. “It’s great you could join us.”

  Kyra glanced at the body, then settled her attention on the floor.

  Alice noticed, wondering how a necromancer, a witch that specialised in blood and death didn’t like the sight of a body. “We need to get as much information as possible before we head to the new crime scene.” She aimed her question at Kyra, knowing Dr Anderson would be able to give her the rundown of the report.

  “Another body?” Kyra asked with a slight husky tone to her voice. “What exactly do you expect me to look for?”

  Alice turned to the examination table, the body contorted mid-shift, flesh hacked and bones broken. “I don’t even know where to start.” The sight was grotesque, like something Hollywood would exaggerate. Yet it was real. “I know there was magic involved.” Peyton had confirmed it.

  Interest flashed in Kyra’s eyes. “I’m going to need some space. Does he have a name?”

  “No,” Peyton said, watching her with both curiosity and irritation.

  Dr Anderson shrugged. “Not yet,” she said with disinterest. “He’s John Doe on the forms until the dental records come back.”

  “John it is then.” Mouth tight, Kyra returned her attention to the table.

  “Detective Peyton, allow me to talk you through my findings,” Dr Anderson waved him over to the desk, paperwork neatly piled on top.

  Alice waited, watching Kyra as she stood as still as a statue beside the body. Opening her third eye she blinked, confused with the colours that melded together before she realised what was happening. Kyra had pushed her aura out of herself, moving it slowly in a concentrated mass over the body.

  “Here they are,” the Dr smiled. “It’s always the last place you look.”

  “Anything interesting?” Alice accepted the thin folder handed to her, flicking it open to begin reading the notes. She had read many autopsy reports, but she never understood all the jargon.

  “What’s the C.O.D?” Peyton asked as he looked over her shoulder.

  Dr Anderson pointed to the right page. “Cause of death has been classed as drowning.”

  “Drowning?” Both Peyton and Alice echoed together.

  That was unexpected.

  “Yes, three millilitres of water was found in the sphenoid sinus, as well as the lungs. From the state of what’s left of his flesh he wasn’t in the water long, just enough to drown. There is very little evidence of haemorrhage in the remaining tissue, so I suspect he was already dead before he was skinned, at least the majority of it.”

  Alice frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Dr Anderson flipped through the report in Alice’s hands, stopping at a close up picture of the only skin left on the body, his groin. “There…” She pointed to the severed flesh. “It suggests he was alive when that was cut.”

  “Only there?” Alice scanned the pictures, but she couldn’t tell.

  “We have his time of death around eight hours before he was found. I said before his death was classed as drowning, however it’s noted that around the edges of his groin there was some tissue growth.”

  “Growth? Then how could he have drowned?”

  “It’s only a theory, and we don’t like to work on theories but we believe he passed out in the water, was removed before he died to start the skinning process, then when he became combative was forced to ingest valerian root.”

  “Valerian root?”

  “Yes, a small amount. It was only flagged because his tests came back human, when, well, clearly he isn’t.”

  “Valerian root is used as a relaxant,” Peyton murmured quietly.

  “You’re right,” Alice added. “It’s supposed to help Breed sleep, but could be fatal to a human. It was probably used to calm him before he was returned to the water.”

  “That’s the theory,” Dr Anderson confirmed.

  Alice hoped he had passed quickly, the drug working. The idea of fighting for his last breath while being skinned…

  Peyton frowned. “Where’s the stuff he was wrapped in?”

  Dr Anderson moved to the second table, careful not to interrupt Kyra. Beneath the white sheet was the fabric, left in the same position they were cut. It created a slight cocoon shape, the top sagging into the centre. Up close they were pale, al
most white yet not as the silver table beneath gave them a slight metallic sheen.

  Kyra turned to join them, tears staining her cheeks before she wiped them away with the sleeve of her jumper. “You were right, there’s this dark signature, but it’s buried beneath something I have never seen before.”

  “What do you feel about these?” Peyton carefully reached out, touching the fabric with his bare hands.

  “Excuse me!” Dr Anderson shouted when she noticed what he was doing. “You can’t do that!”

  Peyton quickly stepped back, eyes wide. He opened their connection, the familiar warmth radiating from Alice’s chest. She felt it then, the wild magic that emitted from the fabric. It was Fae origin.

  Kyra wiped at her cheeks once more, her skin taking on an ashen shade. “This fabric, they’re made of…”

  “Our victim,” Dr Anderson finished for her. “We’re not sure how yet, but the DNA matched perfectly.”

  “I’ve never… I don’t know…” Kyra said, voice hoarse. “Skin is used regularly in black magic, but nothing like this.”

  “You think you’ll be able to recognise the magic residue from a second body?” Peyton asked, his hand in his pocket.

  Kyra shrugged, just a delicate shift of her shoulders. “It’s possible. If I get to the body early enough I may be able to tell you more.”

  Alice checked her phone when it beeped a voicemail. “If there’s already a second body, we’re running out of time before there’s a third.”

  Kyra looked up, features tight. “Then let’s go.”

  The smell hit Alice before she even exited the car, the wind carrying the scent of blood and death. The sun was hot above, the rays blinding as spectators watched from the steps of Britain’s oldest library.

  “Well, this is public,” Peyton murmured as they approached.

  A white tent that had been erected, hiding the scene inside the large children’s park on the centre green. On the same square there were two museums, three famous restaurants and a theatre which made it heavy with tourism footfall.

  “Detective Peyton, Agent Skye,” a uniformed officer nodded in greeting. “They’re just through here.” He pulled up the police tape, allowing them to walk beneath.

  “She’s with us,” Alice said before he could stop Kyra.

  Cameras flashed, the crowd shouting excitedly in the distance at the drama.

  Kyra hesitated. “I’ll stay back a moment,” she said in a whisper. “I need to feel the area.”

  “Okay, join us when you’re ready.”

  A dark hand passed through the tent, Brady’s large body following quickly after. “Nice for you two to join us,” he grunted, eyes flicking to Kyra. “That the black witch?”

  “She’s getting a feel for the area,” Peyton repeated as he passed into the tent, Alice quickly behind.

  The smell was stronger inside, as if it were concentrated in the tight space. Lights had been set up, facing the large climbing frame with attached yellow tube slide.

  “I would like you to meet Jane Doe.” Brady looked down at his notepad. “A child found her just over an hour ago.”

  “A child?” Peyton growled.

  “Yes. She got caught on the body on the way down the slide. At the end he pulled at a loose thread around the nose thinking it was a giant toy. It was his mother who realised and reported.”

  “How did the killer manage to plant this body with no one noticing?” Alice muttered, kneeling to take a better look into the dark slide. “There must be CCTV facing this direction?”

  “We’re working on it.” Brady crossed his arms. “How did the meeting with the pathologist go? Anything that can help with here?”

  “It was interesting,” Alice replied, staring at the bound legs that draped over the edge. The female body was covered in the same fabric as the last victim and even with the forensic lights trained inside, Alice could barely make out the shape. “Where’s Jones?”

  “Here!” Jones said with a cheery grin, his goggles placed on his head but the dark red marks remained around his eyes. “You miss me?”

  “Do you think we could remove the top half of the slide?” Alice stepped back.

  Jones nodded his head, smile growing. “As in cut it off? You think you can do it without disturbing the scene beneath?” At Alice’s nod Jones shot out of the tent, returning seconds later holding a protective sheet. “Peyton, stand here.” After Peyton put on gloves he made him hold one side of the sheet before he moved to the top of the slide, balancing at the entrance to grab the other half. Once they held the sheet taut he gave Alice the go ahead.

  “Acri ignisiam.” Alice hovered her fingertip on the yellow plastic, carefully concentrating her power to a small point. The first side took a few minutes, the second was almost off before the slide creaked. Brady grabbed the top as it began to slip towards Peyton, lifting it off as if it weighed nothing and settling it to the side.

  “Nobody touch her,” Jones snapped. “I need to process everything before the coroner arrives.” He ran out excitedly to grab his gear.

  “She’s not as malformed as the last,” Peyton said as he knelt beside Alice.

  The woman was placed on her back, knees bent to the side and her hands clasped together, as if she were praying. Her nose was only slightly elongated, the tip sharp enough it pierced through a gap in the weave. She was small, barely five-foot.

  “Anybody else think she’s posed?”

  “John Doe was also posed,” Brady said as he stood. “It was reported he was sat at a table with a china tea cup.”

  Alice looked at Brady with a frown. “A tea cup?”

  “Hmmm, the gentleman that found him noticed a table with a china cup set in the alley. He knocked the table over in panic when he realised he was dead.”

  “But why a slide? It hides her.”

  “Yes, but you could say John Doe was also hidden considering he was in a dark alley behind a busy concert,” Peyton added.

  Brady shook his head. “Do we know what animal the last victim was?”

  “No, and we may never know.” Alice had seen enough. She stepped away, wanting to put space between herself and the body. “Once they’re dead we can’t force them to complete their shift.”

  “What about bloodwork?”

  “Shifters, witches and druids can’t be identified through DNA. They all come back as human, or even animal for shifters if they’re transformed.” It was how they remained undetected before the war.

  “We’re relying on his dentistry records,” Peyton added.

  Brady contemplated that for a moment. “What about when they’re stuck mid-shift?”

  “His bloods came back human, which was why valerian root was flagged.”

  “Hmmmm.” Brady turned as the tent opened, and Kyra stood there with a tear stained, but determined face.

  “Hello,” she said, cautiously stepping inside.

  “Detective Brady, this is Kyra Farzan, independent necromancer,” Alice introduced them. “Detective Peyton you already know, and the crazy man outside dressed in all white is Jones, the Forensic Scene of Crime Officer.”

  “That’s… different,” Kyra said when she noticed the woman wrapped in a peachy fabric.

  “Did you find anything?” Alice urged her.

  A shallow nod. “A dark residue is present, the same as the last.”

  “How can you tell?” Peyton asked in his usual callous tone. It came across as rude, unless you knew him.

  Kyra’s head snapped to him, eyes narrowed. “I just can.” She tugged on her braid. “If you would excuse me,” she glared at Peyton. “I need to step closer to the...”

  Brady and Alice stood to the side while Peyton clenched his jaw.

  Her examination was thorough, her attention on the inside of the slide silent as she once again pushed her aura from her body.

  “Strange,” she said quietly a few minutes later, almost to herself.

  “How so?” Brady asked.

  When Kyra l
ooked up, a delicate pink hue flushed her brown cheeks. “Nothing, it’s silly.”

  “Nothing is silly,” Alice said flicking her eyes to Peyton who still trained his attention on the dark witch. “We need any leads we can find.”

  “Well, the way she’s been posed… it’s familiar.”

  “Familiar how?”

  “Have any of you ever read anything from…” she paused. “Where was the other body found?” she asked, dark eyes brightening.

  It was Peyton who answered. “He was having a tea party.”

  “Were his hands rested on his knees, palms up?”

  Brady narrowed his eyes. “Actually he was, how did you know?’

  Kyra bit her lip. “You need to look at Freya Wilson, she’s a thriller author. Her latest novel depicts these exact deaths, down to the skinning.” She flicked her gaze to the slide then back again. “Naked, skinned, wrapped like a mummy and then posed.”

  “Interesting,” Brady growled, tapping his pen down in his little black book. “What was the name of that author again?”

  “Freya Wilson.” Kyra shook herself, the colour draining from her face. “Excuse me.” She swept past the tent flap and back outside.

  Alice found her by the police tape, the spectators moved on. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said on an exhale. “That was unprofessional.” Kyra raised her face to the sun, closing her eyes. “It’s harder when it’s fresh, but I can confirm it’s the same magical signature as the last.”

  “It’s not unprofessional, I’m pretty sure I puked on my first case. They all laughed at me for weeks.”

  Kyra’s mouth twitched. “That Detective Peyton may be able to tell you more, he may feel human but I would put money on the fact that he’s not. He has also stolen some of the fabric from John Doe.”

  Alice raised her eyebrow, about to respond when a flash of white hair caught her eye.

  Xander stood off to the side, arms crossed as he watched her through wrap-around sunglasses. He wore a suit, the fabric black in stark contrast to his pale hair. She raised her arm and he moved forward, ignoring the uniformed officers who asked him to stop.