Knight's War: A Witch Detective Urban Fantasy (Alice Skye series Book 5)
Page 22
“I’m such an arsehole!”
She knocked again, louder.
The door swung open, and Riley stood there dressed in casual jeans and a tight black t-shirt, and her very carefully prepared speech about how she was an idiot and could he forgive her vanished.
“Alice?”
“I love you,” she blurted, panic rising. “I’m sorry, we need to talk and figure us out…”
His lips swallowed the rest, her arms immediately wrapping around his neck as he lifted her into his embrace.
“Say it again,” he growled.
“Riley, I…” A moan, his lips crushing hers once again. She pulled him towards her, savouring the rough embrace that she craved. “Stop it!” she laughed, pulling back.
“Alice Skye, I have loved you from the first time we met.”
“The first time we met you tied me to a chair,” she narrowed her eyes. “In my underwear.”
“Exactly,” he grinned. “You sat there making jokes as if you were in complete control of the situation. You, Alice Skye are the strongest woman I have ever met, and I’m in love with you.”
Alice dropped her head, resting it against his chest. “Riley, we need to figure out your beast…”
“I know sweetheart, we’ll figure it out.” He stroked her hair, fingers tangled in the length. “Together.”
Alice tilted her head, looking up at him. “You ever think we just weren’t meant to be?”
Riley smiled, just a deliciously slow curve of his lip. “Never.”
She stared at the pathetic Fallen that was chained, his head low as blood blinded him. It dripped to the floor, the earth greedily soaking it up.
The second seal had broken, revealing more of her memories, but with it went Famine. She didn’t have time to wait for another Air to be born, no, not when she was so close.
“I’ve heard of you,” the Fallen coughed, blood splattering his dark skin. “I know what you’re after.”
“Do you now,” she purred, kneeling in the dirt to touch his face. She smirked at his flinch, the once strong celestial nothing but a whimpering shell.
She remembered the Fallen, also remembered the celestrials that were once a thorn in her side. They caused trouble, hunting her when she was on Earth Side before... before... she couldn’t remember.
But she knew it was a celestrial that betrayed her, who had helped someone of her blood bind her, punish her. But why was she punished? Why was she hunted?
Pestilence stood to the side, his leg lifting up to kick the Fallen to the ground, his boot adding pressure to his head a second later. Nether rats scuttled around him, bigger than those found on Earth Side with smoke floating between their exposed ribs. They chattered to one another, waiting with patience for their master to command them.
They would carry diseases to those above, and messages for those below.
“I need to open a stronger portal, and your blood will allow me to do that.” She nodded to Pestilence who pressed down with his boot.
“No, no, wait!” he wheezed. “Please, dark elf!”
Pestilence yanked the Fallen up by his throat, only releasing enough pressure for him to speak.
“Dark elf?” she asked, touching the tips of her pointy ears.
Yes, that was what she was, an elf. But why dark?
A memory echoed, but it was cast in shadow.
She needed another seal.
“I can help,” the Fallen licked his lips, eyes darting. “I can help you find another Horseman.”
“Bullshit," Pestilence growled.
“Wait,” she said, lifting a hand. “How can you find another Horseman?”
“My mother.”
Pestilence tightened his grip.
“She lives in Aetherna,” the Fallen wheezed, eyes bulging. “She can find out where Death resides.”
“Death?” Pestilence released his hand, the Fallen crashing to the earth.
“How can you find Death?” she asked. “They are yet to connect to their seal.”
“My mother was a watcher, she can help.”
She smiled, a laugh building up her throat. She guessed it wouldn’t be long at all, because once she knew where Death was, it was only War they had to trap.
And she already knew who War was.
Then she would be complete.
And the veil will fall.
Epilogue
Valentina tapped her long nails on the side of the chair, watching her fellow councilmen carefully as they took their own seats in the circle. She paid extra attention to Frederick, whose nervous pulse was a siren to her constant hunger.
“Mon ami, are you well?” she asked him with a dangerous smile. He stood on behalf of both the witches and mages on The Council, supposedly the strongest of them all. Yet, she knew he had been weakened recently with the betrayal of one of his pet black witches.
Xavier sniggered, jumping up to crouch on his chair with bare feet. “Yes Fred, are you well?”
Frederick flushed, jaw clenched as he looked away. It had been Xavier who had taken down the black witch, and from the mark across his left eye it looked like he didn’t come out of it unscathed.
Valentina smirked, knowing the tiger would have thought it a trophy.
Xavier was one of the only councilmembers who met her stare dead on, the others but a fleeting glance. She would have been impressed if she knew it wasn’t because he thought of himself higher than her.
“Valentina, I’ve heard you’re having problems back in Paris,” he purred, pointedly showing his teeth.
But he seemed to have forgotten, she also had fangs. “Is that what you’ve heard?” she laughed, sipping from her red-tainted glass.
“What is the meaning of this meeting?” Bartholomew asked as he took his own seat. “The message was very vague.”
“Did you not–”
“– call this meeting?” Quention finished for his sister, Liliannia. “We were told–”
“– that we were required here in person.” The twin faeries occupied the last seat on behalf of all Fae, with Liliannia sitting in the seat, and Quention sitting on the armrest.
Xavier chuckled, resting back in his chair. “I too received a message.”
Frederick frowned, tugging at his velvet lapels. “I didn’t call this meeting.”
Valentina pursed her lips disapprovingly. “Then who?”
“That would be me,” a voice called.
A man appeared, a silhouette against the door. Behind him he dragged a large hellhound. He lifted the beast, throwing it into the centre of The Council with a heavy squelch. Valentina felt the warm spray of the blood on her face, but her attention remained on the tall celestrian with wings of copper.
Frederick jumped from his seat, looking down at the corpse in disgust. “Who are you?”
The angel stretched his wings, the span as large as the room, large enough to carry such a heavy weight through the skies. With a click they disappeared into his back.
“My name is Cassiel, and I’m here because the first seal has broken, and a horseman has arisen.”
Valentina gripped the arm of the chair, her nails cutting through the hard wood.
“I’ve heard rumours,” Frederick said when no one else spoke. “We should have done what I wanted with Alice, now there’s a chance the prophecy may come to light,” he muttered, returning to his seat.
“It doesn’t work with just one,” Liliannia snapped, Quention remaining silent beside her. “It requires a minimum of two to barely scratch the surface of the veil.”
“My Guardians have reported an increase of Shadow-Veyn across Russia and eastern Europe,” Bart added. “And increased activity in Daemon possessions.”
“Someone is agitating those imprisoned below,” Quention turned his lilac eyes to the celestrial. “What can you tell us–”
“– about this?” Liliannia finished.
Xavier scraped his claws down the chair, leaving deep marks. “Tell me more about the below.”
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Cassiel smiled, dark eyebrow raised. “The Nether was created by the Fae in penance, but maintained by a powerful heart, a Fallen. It is he who is stirring up trouble, organising an army.”
“How do you know of this?” Valentina asked.
Cassiel ignored the question. “There are strong Fae imprisoned, as well as some Fallen and creatures like the one I have gifted you.” He kicked at the hellhound.
Valentina carefully stepped down from her seat, not caring that her dress mopped up the blood from the dog. “Monsieur, why are you here?” She stepped up to him, having to tilt her head. “Celestrians have no interest in politique.”
Cassiel looked down at her with disinterest. “I believe a change is due, don’t you agree?” He turned to address the group. “The Wild Hunt is coming, and you’re going to need my help to stop it.”
The End of Book Five
A personal note from Taylor:
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Book Six Coming late 2021
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About the Author
Taylor Aston White loves to explore mythology and European faerie tales to create her own, modern magic world. She collects crystals, house plants and dark lipstick, and has two young children who like to 'help' with her writing by slamming their hands across the keyboard.
After working several uncreative jobs and one super creative one she decided to become a full-time author and now spends the majority of her time between her children and writing the weird and wonderful stories that pop into her head.
www.taylorastonwhite.com