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

by Taylor Aston White

  Alice thrust a twenty pound note in his face, mumbling for him to keep the change.

  It took her seconds to climb the stairs, even less to run into the bathroom and to sweep everything off the sink with one swing of her arm. She carefully placed her fingertips onto the mirror, her reflection pale. She didn’t know Kyle’s summoning name, and never wished to know. Their names bound them, and she would never want Kyle to experience being a slave ever again, to be forced into doing someone’s bidding.

  “Xahenort, I call you through the reflection.” The glass pulsated beneath her fingertips, her third eye picking up a swirl of colour as it concentrated in the centre.

  “Xahenort, I call you.”

  She waited.

  “XAHENORT!”

  “Bloody hell woman,” Lucy snarled as his image appeared on the glass. “So impatient.”

  Alice stepped back, anxiety twisting her chest. “I need to speak to Kyle.”

  “Why can’t you speak to me?” His nostrils flared, a frown creasing his brow. “I wanted to discuss our next night out.”

  “Please,” Alice begged.

  Lucy leant forward, his image distorting. “What happened?”

  “Alice?” Kyle appeared, pushing Lucy out the way. “What happened… your eyes?”

  Alice immediately touched her face, hand shaking. What was wrong with her eyes?

  The scry ended, her reflection returning. With a gasp she looked at her irises, the emerald green glowing.

  A pop of pressure, Kyle appearing beside her.

  “Tell me what happened.” He went to touch her, his hand hesitating before it brushed her shoulder.

  Alice thrust the photograph at him.

  Kyle stared at it, silent. His own eyes teasing red, jaw clenched as he studied every detail. When he turned it over he roared, a thunder that rattled the bathroom. His hand grabbed onto her arm, and with a static pop they both drifted.

  The portal pulsated, black swirls forming along the silver arch. “Why can’t you feel them?” Pestilence growled. “The others?”

  She ignored his question, concentrating on the portal as she locked it into place. She was yet to remember how to make them permanent, but the temporary doorways she had opened would be enough. Without more Horsemen they didn’t have the power to break down the veil, but she could send power down to the Nether Underworld, allowing some of the smaller creatures to leak through. She wanted them to wreak havoc, to distract as Pestilence grew in strength.

  “Pandora?” A hot breath against her neck. “Answer me.”

  Smile tight she turned, gently cupping his lightly stubbled cheek with longer, slimmer fingers than before. His eyes, ones that looked broken, stared at her with a controlled anger. He wanted more power, his impatience frustrating. She needed him, needed Pestilence to bring down the veil between the worlds so she could find her love. She didn't remember his name, just like she didn't remember her own. But the ache in her chest grew when she thought of Him, and she knew he was imprisoned in the Nether somewhere. Her memories gave her that, at least.

  Which meant the veil needed to fall, and she would make sure of it.

  "You were already connected to your seal.” She watched his lip lift into a silent snarl, hands clawed. “You have been influenced by it since a child, you understood what it meant when those around you became sick and fevered. When your anger could create boils and cysts. You have always known what your destiny was, even if you didn’t know how.”

  “Nothing influences me,” he growled.

  She ignored him. “The others are yet to embrace or even encounter theirs, and when they do, I will know, as will you.”

  His fractured gaze flickered to the doorway. “Why the portals?”

  “There are many Breed imprisoned beneath our feet, and they would serve you well if you released them. The portals are signs that the rift is coming, a sign for them to prepare for what is to come.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  Pandora laughed, the sound like bells. “What makes you say that, my darling?” He shouldn’t trust her, because as soon as she got what was hers, she would destroy him. “I want the veil to come down just as much as you."

  He tilted his head, his eyes on the edge of sanity. Power flowed through him, whispering to him. She could feel it.

  “You don’t care about the veil falling,” he said, matter of factly.

  “I need the veil to fall.” She allowed the truth in her words to echo. She needed the veil to fall, because there was no other way to release the imprisoned. To release her love.

  “You’re up to something.” His eyebrows grew heavy. “I know it.”

  Pandora flicked at her hair, attempting to move away before his hand snaked out, holding her wrist in an impenetrable vice. Water moved down his arm, over his hand and onto hers. She knew if she moved, it would freeze.

  “Pestilence, my darling,” she soothed, trying to calm his rage. “We are in this together, all the way.”

  Jaw clenched he leant forward in a kiss, his lips hard against her own. She allowed it, knowing it was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

  A gasp of air, her chest tightening with warmth.

  Pestilence hissed, jumping back.

  Another horseman had just connected with their seal.

  Chapter 24

  Alice crashed to the cold concrete floor, her head dazed as she tried to understand her surroundings. Kyle panted, fists clenched as he pushed at the metal fencing that enclosed the large dark warehouse.

  “I saw him Alice, lying there, covered in blood.” He began to pace, his bare feet catching every loose stone. “If he was alive, why didn’t he help you?”

  Alice climbed to her feet, her bag slung loosely on her shoulder. She hated drifting, the recovery taking its toll as she waited for the dizziness to fade.

  “If he were alive,” he continued. “Why didn’t he help me?” Kyle pushed at the fence, the metal bending from impact.

  He stepped over it, shoulders taut beneath a tight black t-shirt. His arms were bare, the tattoos that helped control his Daemon side on full show around his wrists. Alice looked down at her own hand, the tattooed glyphs similar. While Kyle’s were bands, Alice’s was vertical, the pattern starting from her wrist and ending just shy of her elbow.

  “Where are we?” she asked, following him across the forecourt.

  “This is Unit 102-106 on Guild Street. According to your information this was the last address connected to dad.”

  The warehouse had no name or indication of what could be inside. There were no other outbuildings or trucks, nothing but the singular large building. A single light glowed from one of the top windows, the rest dark.

  The door took little effort to unlock, the inside just as sparse as the outside. It was open plan, one floor with metal stairs climbing up to an overlooking glass office. They were silent as they climbed up, the door at the top already open to create a halo of light.

  Alice cautiously stepped inside, Kyle a dense energy at her back.

  The air to her left shifted, a knife flashing before she caught the wrist. Using the attackers own momentum she kicked out, sending them staggering towards the glass. Unfortunately the man recovered quicker than she anticipated, charging again with the knife pointed straight. Kyle growled, moving past her to catch her attacker halfway, pinning him to the wall with a heavy arm.

  “Son?” The man dropped the knife when Kyle slammed his wrist. “Son, is that you?”

  Kyle stepped back, emerald eyes surrounded in red. “Dad.” The single acknowledgment held so much anger, so much rage that it darkened his tone.

  “What happened to you?” their father asked, reaching out to touch his son’s face until

  Kyle snarled a warning. He moved behind Alice, creating a violent shadow. He touched his wrists, jaw clenched as he fought the anger that continued to bleed into his eyes.

  Jackson looked between them, his eyes hovering over Kyle’s tattoos that disguised the w
orse scars, the scars that hid where he was chained. He was older, his dark hair peppered with grey. “So,” he began, his own tone clipped. “You found me.” His attention settled on Alice. “You look like your mother.”

  From the curl of his lip Alice knew it wasn’t a compliment.

  “I suppose you should come inside.” He moved back, gesturing for them to close the door behind them. The office was all one room except the bathroom, which was a single toilet and sink just off to the right. The carpet was threadbare, marks where there once was a desk had worn to concrete. Light sockets hung loosely from the ceiling, the wires open. Chairs stacked in the corner, a camping bed beneath with a miniature fridge and large duffel bag.

  Jackson pulled one of the chairs from the stack, sitting on it as he faced his children. “I’ve seen you in the papers,” he sneered at Alice. “When did you start using the family name again?”

  Alice swallowed, her throat tight. “Eighteen.”

  “You should have kept the name Dread gave you.”

  Alice had been happy with the name given to her by Dread, but at eighteen she was an adult, and wanted to feel connected to her lost family.

  Jackson crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knee. “You shouldn’t have come, I don’t want you here.” His foot tapped, the shoes surprisingly new.

  Alice absorbed the rage that threatened to spill. How could he be so hostile?

  End him, the voices whispered. Find the others.

  Alice clutched at her bag, trying to silence her seal.

  Jackson noticed the motion. “From the state of your eyes I guess you found it,” his tone hardened. “It’s in the bag isn’t it? It’s influencing you already because you’re weak, you always were.”

  “Dad...” her voice cracked.

  “No!” he snapped, pointing his finger. “You don’t get to call me that. I hope you know this was all your fault. If you hadn’t been born your mother would still be here.”

  “Enough,” Kyle whispered, voice hoarse.

  Jackson ignored him, sitting forward to clasp his hands. “Your power scared us, scared your mother enough that she studied dark magic to learn how to suppress yours, but nothing seemed to work.”

  “Enough,” Kyle repeated.

  Alice remained silent, her chest aching, breaking.

  “You were three when we were told you inherited more than just the Draco genes. It was then we were given your seal by a celestrial, he explained who you were destined to become.” Jackson began to chuckle darkly. “It explained so much.”

  “You left us,” Kyle snapped. “You left us to die!”

  “NO!” Jackson burst from his chair, hard enough it toppled over. “No, that’s not what happened. They were only supposed to take Alice, that was the deal!”

  “Deal?” Alice choked. “You made a deal?” She felt numb.

  “Your mother wasn’t seeing sense, she was obsessed with protecting you.” His words came thick and fast. “You were influencing us to argue, to start a fight. It was always about you. The seal was supposed to suppress your power, to help us control you but it never worked, you were too strong. So in the end I sought help, and was advised that to stop it, you needed to die.”

  Alice hugged her arms around herself, as if it would stop her heart from hurting. “That’s how Mason found out, you told him.”

  He turned his head, looking away. “I did what I had to.”

  “Stop blaming a child for your failings as a father,” Kyle snarled, his t-shirt tearing. “You were supposed to protect us, and instead you sold us to the highest bidder who had no intention of allowing the magic of an Elemental to go to waste.” Wings erupted from his back, the feathers sharp as blades. “It was because of you mum was murdered, and it was because of you I am what I am.”

  Jackson stepped back. “You’re a Daemon!” he said in disgust.

  “ENOUGH!” Kyle thrust forward, his wings angled for balance as he lifted Jackson by the throat. “You are a pathetic excuse for a father. You tried to sacrifice your own daughter because you weren’t strong enough.”

  “Kyle.” Alice placed her hand on his shoulder, careful of the spikes on the arches of his wings. “He’s not worth it.”

  Jackson scratched at Kyle’s hands, his feet dangling from the floor. He was dropped, knees cracking against the floor as Kyle stood back, shaking.

  “You’re right,” Jackson wheezed. “I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t strong enough to kill her when we first found out, and because of that I’ve lost the only women I have ever loved, and my only son has become everything I’m trained in destroying.”

  Kyle shifted to the window, staring down into the darkness. “We’re not alone.”

  Jackson laughed, climbing to his feet, deep mahogany eyes trained on Alice. “You were supposed to be taken. Just you. If you died, the prophecy would have been paused, and your mother wouldn’t have had this guilt.”

  The window cracked, a dart sticking out from Kyle’s arm. He reached over and pulled it out, dropping it to the floor.

  “Kyle?” Alice ran over, stemming the blood that flowed from the small hole. Black lines appeared beneath his skin, slowly creeping down his arm. She turned to her father. “What have you done?”

  “I’ve done what I should have all those years ago,” Jackson replied.

  Kyle frowned, his hands grabbing Alice’s hands as a look of concentration flashed across his face. He collapsed to his knees, Alice falling with him.

  “Ventilabis!” She pushed her hand out towards their father, pushing him back with a burst of flames as he went for his knife. He smashed into the stacked chairs, collapsing into a pile. “ARMA!” Her shield popped around them, breaking instantly at the lack of connection to the earth. “SHIT!”

  The stairs creaked, the door smashing open. Chester grinned, a sniper slung over his shoulder.

  “Why, hello there,” he grinned, his eyes alight. “Guess what time it is?”

  Two others flanked him, one male and one female. They held their guns out, trigger finger ready.

  “Time I beat the shit out of you again?” Alice warned. She flicked her eyes to Jackson, who groaned from the corner just as Kyle began to convulse, eyes rolling back into his head.

  The man she didn’t recognise chuckled, lifting his gun up.

  Chester pulled out a small vial, holding it to the light. “Tick tock.” He threw it to the woman, who caught it between two fingers.

  “Is this it?” the man laughed. “This is what everyone was talking about?” He adjusted the thick strap across his chest. He held a pistol, but a large blade sat comfortably on his hip.

  The woman placed the vial in a pocket. “Come with us, or your brother dies.”

  Alice slowly stood, hands raised in submission. Her chi pulsated, but she kept it concealed. “What did you shoot him with?”

  Chester moved forward with a pair of handcuffs, the metal oxidised, giving off a dark blue hue. He reached over, grabbing a wrist. She immediately pulled her other arm up, slamming the heel of her palm into his nose with a crack.

  The man lifted his gun, and then another dart stuck out of Kyle. “Looks like time’s almost up.”

  “STOP!”

  Chester pulled her wrist harder, his grip so tight she was surprised it didn’t break. Ignoring his nose which gushed blood he snapped the handcuffs onto her wrist, the specialised metal immediately muting her magic. As soon as the second cuff clicked into place he pulled her against him, mouth to her ear in an intimate whisper.

  “I’m going to have so much fun playing with you.” He punched her in the kidney, the pain dropping her to the floor.

  Chapter 25

  The ceiling glowed, runes constantly activating every time she made any movement. They washed over her stone cell in red, followed by blue, then green, yellow and finally purple.

  Alice rattled the chain that connected to the furthest wall from the wrought iron door. Thick manacles wrapped around her wrists, the blue-black meta
l warm against her broken skin. Her chi coiled inside, dormant as the metal retrained her in more than just movement.

  The sound of whipping bounced off the stone walls, echoing down the corridor. Her own back winced, the memory of her own torture only hours old. She had screamed, the pain unbearable yet she heard no screams just then, no cries of pain or any acknowledgment at all.

  Easing back she settled against the cold stone, her shirt ripped to shreds to reveal her raw skin beneath. The runes on that wall ignited, giving off the red hue first before the others quickly followed. Blue, green, yellow and purple.

  Alice had laughed when she had first realised that the three walls, the ceiling and the floor were warded in different colours. She had no idea if it was intentionally or not, her knowledge on the specific symbols lacking. But it was something she used to highly amuse herself when she was last strapped to the wooden table in the centre, the floor giving her a yellow halo as she received thirteen strikes of the whip. Red, blue, green, yellow and purple. Always in that order.

  Her cell was a fucking rainbow.

  Alice pulled at the chain, hissing out a breath as the manacles bit into her skin sharp enough to draw blood. The room glowed, the runes activating once again.

  “Oh, bloody hell,” she moaned as the colours flared. It wasn’t like she had any idea on how to escape and the wards didn’t seem to do anything but blind her.

  Alice pulled at the manacles some more, coating her blood around her wrist so it would slip out.

  “That won’t work, you know,” a voice mused from the cell opposite. “Not while you’re attached to the wall.”

  Alice ignored her, instead pulling as hard as she could.

  The left manacle tightened.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Alice tried to pull harder, but her hand started to become numb, her bone creaking.

  “Told you,” came the snarky chuckle. “If you relax it will go back.”

  Alice stared at her hand, watching it swell. After a few minutes the manacle released the pressure and pins and needles assaulted her fingertips. If it had tightened even further she was sure it would have broken her wrist.