Witch's Sorrow, page 27
part #1 of Alice Skye Series
“Alice?” A feminine voice called from behind, making Alice jump back and turn at the same time.
“Why are you standing alone in the rain?” Rose held her gym bag above her head.
Alice spun back to the alley, blinking through the rain that she could feel once again, wanting to confront her cloaked phantom.
“I don’t know.”
A high pitch scream.
Fear twisted her, leaving her immobile as the tortured shrieks filled the air.
“You hear that little girl?” the monster laughed. “Your mamma needs you, come out, come out where ever you are.”
Peering over from behind the trunk she took a good look at the man, his large body covered in darkness. “Come here you little bitch.”
Sudden light brightened the garden, the flash blinding her.
Blinking past the glare she peered over the trunk again, gasping as she saw the monster standing by her house. His face was distorted into a scowl, twin horns protruding from the centre of his forehead, curling around his head before finishing by his ears. An off-white teddy bear was clutched between his large palms, the fur painted in pink.
“Come out, come out, where ever you are,” the monster sang.
The light turned off once again, leaving only the moonlight. She felt her heart beat in her chest, a rabbit trying to escape. Salt on her tongue as tears streamed from her eyes, mixing with the snot against her upper lip.
“Shit. Where are you?” Shoes crunched as the monster moved closer.
Chapter 29
Something’s watching me.
Alice woke to the sudden realisation she wasn’t alone in her bedroom. She blinked, her eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness. A shadow stood ominously by her open door, taller than her phantom cloaked figure but a shadow, nonetheless.
Great. She rubbed her face with her hands, I'm seeing other things now. Flopping down onto her back she stared towards the ceiling, deciding it was just best to ignore the shadow.
A squeak, the floorboards protesting. What the fuck?
The air moved above her.
Acting on instinct she rolled quickly over as a hand came down, a rag pushed forcibly down into the pillow where her head should have been. Kicking out into the darkness her bare foot connected with something hard, someone or something grunting at the blow.
“You’re real?” Scrambling out of her bed she fell to her knees, clenching her teeth at the shock of pain.
“SAM!?” She shouted, her heart turning to ice when he didn’t respond. “SAM?” She shouted again as she rolled out the way of a kick. Launching to her feet she tackled the intruder, knocking them both to the floor in a heap. “FUCK!” She tried to get up but something clamped around her wrists. Pulling free she scrambled across the floor in the dark.
A chuckle close behind, “Come here, bitch.”
“LUX PILA!” she shouted, a ball of light bursting into existence above her, illuminating the small bedroom with an eerie blue glow. She stood by her curtained window, sheets from her bed piled on the floor in her panic. The large shadow loomed by her doorframe once more, a pale cloth clutched in its big hands.
A fist flew towards her face, connecting with her cheek and throwing her head back. Crashing against the wall she clutched her cheek, the pain sharp as copper coated her tongue. Another fist came towards her holding the cloth, a sickly sweet smell emitting from the white fabric. Sliding out of the way she yanked at the curtain covering her window, throwing it in the vague direction of the attacker. The curtain landed on its head, disorientating it enough that she kicked out with her foot, connecting painfully with its groin.
Distracted with the pain he (it was definitely a he) clutched himself, her knee meeting his nose in the next instant.
A deep growl as the man pulled the curtain and threw it on the floor, his face scrunched up in a snarl as light leaked from the uncovered window. With a roar he leapt forward, picking her up by the top of her arms and throwing her straight through the open bedroom door. Landing hard on her tailbone she gasped, her head connecting with the edge of the side table. A sudden weight on top of her, hands constricting her throat. Bringing up her hands she clawed at the man, his dark eyes bleeding into a vibrant red.
“Ignis.” She whispered from a strangled breath, sparks flying from her fingertips. His hands tightened impossibly further before suddenly loosening, with a yelp, blisters appeared along his hands and arms, red welts that expanded to bursting point.
Alice wriggled trying to get out from underneath him, her efforts useless as he reached over and grabbed another cloth from his back pocket. Holding it above her head he laughed, showing small pointy teeth along both jaws.
Calming herself she flipped onto her stomach, her sleep t-shirt riding up so her skin uncomfortably gripped the laminate floor. Stretching, she tried to grab the side table…
A loud crash, the front door slamming open and ricocheting off the wall with such power it automatically shut itself. A black blur grabbed her intruder, throwing him against the wall between the bedrooms with such force the picture nailed to the wall smashed to the floor.
Alice clutched her throat, her body suddenly remembering how to breathe as she coughed violently, oxygen struggling to recirculate her system.
What the actual fuck? She pulled herself to her knees, her head swimming. Feeling as if her skull was weighted she turned to look behind, her eyes taking too long to take in any details.
“Riley?” She coughed again, her throat protesting at any sort of speech. “How?” she wheezed. “Why are you here?” She said in another painful gulp, successfully stopping herself from fainting. Point to me.
Riley slammed the attacker against the wall, his legs flying wildly in panic. “I was watching the place, I didn’t trust they hadn't already tracked the book.”
“Did you see Sam?” She coughed again, the pain mingling with her growing headache.
“He isn't here.”
Oh yeah. She finally remembered. He was called into work. Leaning against the sofa for support she gazed over at her attacker, the view better from the living room as the light from the balcony stretched through the kitchen archway. The guy was huge, easily double her size wearing all black. His red eyes were wide, the pupils slit, like a cat, or a snake.
“What is he?” she asked, her throat painful.
“Daemon.” The Daemon cackled deep in his chest, smiling with his teeth.
“A Daemon?” she parroted. She stared at the man, if she could even call it a man, as it struggled against the hand at its throat. The shadow in her nightmares was nothing compared to the real thing. Over six foot with bulging muscles overlaid with dark veins. Heavy features scrunched with pain, dark hair longer than her own styled to cover the small horns that had been sanded down.
“What are you doing here?” Riley snarled. The Daemon continued to laugh, blood bubbling around his lips. “What are you doing here?” Riley repeated, the words resonating with a power Alice has never heard.
The Daemon gurgled in response, his red eyes glazing over. A light from Riley’s closed fist, a ball of arcane held against the Daemon’s skin, the power licking against his clothing, almost teasing the flesh as it burned and melted.
Alice stared, her throat dry. Arcane magic was unpredictable, raw power manifested into a ball of light. It took incredible strength to control it so casually.
The Daemon hissed in pain, blood now pouring down his chin in a steady stream.
“I will ask you one last time. Why?” Riley leant in. “Are. You. Here?” The last word a breath against the Daemons face, almost intimate in its rage.
“She is the one,” the Daemon gargled. “She is the last before The Becoming.” A wet cough, its hands holding onto Riley’s forearms so it didn’t suffocate.
“Stop with the riddles,” Alice responded, her voice hoarse, sore from the strangulation.
The Daemon laughed once again, the sound wet. Something dripped out of his ears, a sea of red across his dark skin.
“He is Becoming.”
“Who is Becoming?” asked Alice. A scream as the arcane ball slowly burrowed into his chest. Red tears leaking from his eyes.
“What do you want from Alice?” Riley asked.
“Dragon born.” A hollow chuckle as his chest rattled. “With steady breaths, they ride towards the dawn. Mortals cower in the dark, defenceless, prepare to mourn. Shadows move across their souls, as darkness, corruption and power grows. The four elements, magnets against mortal breath. Generations of lies, of wrath. Power in its truest form, made physical with greed. Are they saviours who wish to lead? Famine destroys along the path, against pestilence in his wrath. Death stares and waits his turn, as wars flames turn to burn. The apocalypse they bring to earth, destroying it for all it's worth.”
“What’s happening?” Alice asked, her face in open shock. The Daemon convulsed, shaking violently in Riley’s hand. Releasing his grip the Daemon fell straight to his knees, blood pooling quickly around his body. His dark skin slowly turned red as if he was combusting from the inside out.
“Blood’s leaking out of his pores.” Riley grunted, absorbing the arcane back into his hand.
“Death is coming, War.” A wet snigger. “You are the catalyst.” A smile showing red stained, pointy teeth. “With your ascent, the new beginning will start.”
A deep inhale. His face crumpling, eyes sinking into his face as skin was absorbed into his body, a shock of white as his skull appeared through the flesh, cracking and disintegrating before their eyes. The body melting into itself, leaving nothing left, not even dust.
“Great.” Riley snarled, staring down into what was left of the attacker. Red splashed across his shirt and face.
“What happened?” Alice asked for the third time, her face white.
“He was on a timer.”
“A timer?”
“Yes, it’s a delayed assassination spell. The spell went off because he was taking too long. If he succeeded and got you out of here the spell would have dissipated and he would've lived.”
Riley turned to look at Alice, his face expressionless. “Where’s the book?”
“Book?” A confused look. “Oh, it's still in the lunchbox.” Without another word he turned towards the kitchen, opening the lunchbox with a quick click.
Frowning at the book he reached to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head revealing intricate black and red tattoos along the left side of his back. Scrunching the shirt in his fist he squeezed some red liquid onto the silver clasp, right above the circle indent. With a pop and sizzle, the book snapped open.
“It’s done.”
“How did you know that would work?” she asked, having followed him.
“I didn’t.”
She walked over to where he was standing, feeling the heat from his skin. “You have blood on your hands,” she whispered, carefully taking the book out of his palms. She scanned the book, flipping through pages.
“It’s a list,” she said a moment later.
“A list?” he asked, wiping the remaining blood off his face and chest with his destroyed shirt, throwing it into the bin in the corner of the room. Alice stared at the book, careful not to look at him.
Maxi Swanson – Dead – Survived only 2 weeks.
Samuel Lewis – Survived.
Sahari Mooner – Dead.
Stewart Leonard – Survived.
Ernest Rhodes – Infection started.
Alesha Morgan – Dead.
Bobby Dust – Dead – Did not take to the infection.
Mischa Palmer – Dead.
Jackie Nunez – Dead.
Lexus Pride – Survived – Rabid, had to be put down.
Francis Carter – Dead.
Louis Owen – M.I.A.
Tomlin Kar – Started infection – Got caught by target. Had to be made an example of.
Roman Wild – Started infection – Taken to infection perfectly, looks promising.
Alice stared at Rex’s brother’s name, a million questions forming at the forefront of her mind. Does Rex know? She flipped further through the book blindly, unsure how to deal with the information.
“Oh,” she gasped, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. With shaking hands she traced the indents the pen had made on the page, the name circled many times. Her name. Repeated over and over.
“Anything?” Riley’s voice made her jump. She glanced at him, wide-eyed.
“My name’s in here.” She held out the book, he accepted it before flipping through the pages.
“So it is,” he grunted, tossing the book onto the counter.
Alice walked away to stare out the window of her balcony, the light of dawn threatening to break in the distance.
“May I use your shower?”
She nodded, still facing the window, her emotions too raw to reply. She felt him rather than heard him walk away, silent even though she knew he wore heavy leather boots. The shower started in the bathroom only minutes later. Grabbing a mug from beside the sink she poured in hot water. She simply held it in her hands, watching the water as it settled.
Riley re-entered the room a lifetime later, the mug now cool in her palms, his chest bare, jeans low on his hips. He leant against a cabinet opposite, his eyes reflective in the light.
“What happened to your cupboard?” He nodded towards the dent.
“Rex thought he would redecorate.”
“Did he touch you?” A low growl.
Alice refused to reply. Looking up from her mug she caught his eyes. “What are you?”
“You know what I am.” He turned his head at an angle, an animalistic gesture, something she was used to watching Rex do, or even Sam.
“You’re more than that,” she stated. Her eyes travelled across his chest, following the patterns across his left peck, further down his taut stomach before disappearing below his jeans. His right arm was completely covered in the beautifully intricate designs, his left only partially covered. A slight pink scratch marked his chest, the only evidence of the wound from the lions. He held her gaze, the silver sheen reflecting heat. “Rex called you a wolf.”
“Did he?” No smile. Only eyes.
“Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“A wolf?”
“It’s complicated.”
“It’s a yes or no question.”
“I am not a shifter.” Controlled words.
“How can you lift a Daemon off the ground like that?”
“I work out.”
“You were faster than those lions.”
“They were lazy. Alice what do you want me to say? I am who I am.”
“Then who are you?”
“I am me,” he stated, face tense. “Now who are you?”
“Who am I?” She laughed. She didn’t know the answer to that herself.
“He called you a dragon.”
Alice remained silent.
“What did he mean?”
She moved further from him, not liking the fact he was towering over her, her height giving her little advantage.
“I have no idea.” She really didn’t.
She had no idea why her name was in a book.
Why he called her a dragon.
Why her family was slaughtered.
Riley narrowed his eyes as he decided whether she was telling the truth. Alice stared back, daring him to comment, the lukewarm tea forgotten in her hand. What did he expect from her?
“You’re not telling me something?”
“Oh, like you haven’t told me you’re a Storm?” She watched something dark pass across his face. “Or was it just something you forgot to mention?”
“We’re not talking about me.”
“Like hell we are!” She felt her voice rise.
“You know nothing of me and my family.” He got annoyed, taking a step towards the shadows, hiding his face, hiding his eyes.
“And I know nothing of mine.” She stepped up to him, trying to see his expression through the darkness. She could feel his gaze on her face, could tell when he decided she was telling the truth, that she didn’t know what the Daemon was talking about. A light suddenly reflected across his eyes, the iris turning silver in a flash before becoming hidden once again. Swallowing her emotions she stepped back, trying to get her thoughts together. “What was he talking about? The poem?” She didn’t recognise it.
“It's just a poem, written by anonymous,” Riley replied, his voice soft. “It supposedly depicts the four horsemen of the apocalypse.”
She turned to the balcony, watching the pink sky.
“War, he called me war.” She felt a warmth against her neck, butterflies in her stomach. Turning she looked up at his face. His eyes were inhuman, an ancient beast staring out. She didn’t feel scared, only a sudden anticipation. It was different with Riley, a natural attraction compared to the torrential longing she felt for Rex. She didn’t feel like she needed Riley beside her, but wanted him instead.
He stared down at her, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Slowly, he leaned down, giving her time to change her mind. He sighed her name as his lips came down on her own, the contact electric. She melted into the kiss, surprised by her sudden voracious hunger. Sliding his hands down her waist he bunched up her T-shirt, going beneath to touch his warm hands to the top of her back.
“Alice…” he groaned as if she were the greatest pleasure, or pain.
Lifting her up he moved her to sit on the edge of the sink, she could feel him through the fabric of his jeans, a large bulge against her most sensitive area, her underwear giving little protection.
She moaned into the kiss, nipping at his lip before he started to peck down her neck. She panted heavily, her brain overpowered with arousal as her chi danced from the electric current. With a small bite to her neck, he let her slide to the floor, her legs like jelly. Taking a step back he stared at her, his face blank. Bending at the waist he bowed gently, light perspiration glittering along his back.
