Witch's Bounty Read online

  Witch’s Bounty

  An Alice Skye Short

  Taylor Aston White

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Witch’s Sorrow

  Prologue

  6. Witch’s Sorrow Chapter One

  7. Witch’s Sorrow Chapter Two

  8. Witch’s Sorrow Chapter Three

  DISCLAIMER - Written in British English including spelling and grammar.

  * * *

  Copyright © 2019 by Taylor Aston White

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Chapter 1

  Alice sipped her cocktail, the mixture of cranberry and orange enjoyable enough, except it missed one thing. Alcohol. Apparently, it was frowned upon to drink properly while on a contract, not that it stopped Danton, who she spotted on the opposite side of the street party, hidden in shadow. She watched him flirt flamboyantly with a random girl, a glass of wine in hand.

  “Slut,” she said to the air, knowing that he would be able to hear. Vampires had impressive hearing, able to hear the smallest details even as the band shouted into the microphone louder than necessary. In fact, any vampire in the direct area could have been able to hear her, but only if they were concentrating. She knew D would be concentrating, and that pissed her off.

  His dark eyes shot to her, his teasing smile frozen before he frowned.

  She flipped him off, holding her finger in the air until she got some awkward looks from the dancers. Once she realised she was gaining too much attention, she returned to her drink, eyes scanning the array of gyrating, sweaty bodies on the dance floor.

  “How did you spot me, ma petite sorcière?” D asked as he slipped onto the barstool beside her.

  “Of course I spotted you, you’re louder than an elephant,” she replied dryly. He wasn’t louder than an elephant, he was actually almost silent in his movements. Another benefit of being a vampire that she didn’t have. She could make pretty lights with her hands, as well as some other stuff, but she wasn’t silent.

  It would have been handy a few times, she mused to herself.

  “You sound jaloux,” Danton smirked. “Ma petite sorcière, all you have to do is ask.”

  Alice refused to acknowledge his statement. He had made it his mission throughout The Tower to sleep with as many women as he could, and she would not be a notch on his extensive bedpost.

  “Why are you here D? And don’t lie to me.” She knew exactly why he was there. Since she made one little mistake on a contract, she had noticed some of her fellow colleagues hanging around.

  She was being babysat, like a child.

  It infuriated her that Dread, The Commissioner of the Supernatural Intelligence Bureau would undermine her, as if she wasn’t a fully trained Paladin who had one of the best retrieval records in London.

  She noticed Danton clench his jaw.

  “Happy Lunar Festival,” he said instead of answering, lifting his wine in a salute. They were at a street party celebrating the new Lunar Year, a tradition in Chinatown.

  Even though she wasn’t technically there for the party.

  The locals had strung paper lanterns across the street, as well as adding tables, chairs and a bar. The band were on a crudely made podium in the centre, surrounded by dancers. It was cold, yet the dancers didn’t seem to notice in their barely legal clothes.

  “Did he send you?”

  “Oui,” he replied in his charming French accent. “You know why.”

  “Fuck sake. It was one time!” she sipped her cocktail, no longer enjoying the fruity flavour. “And the guy deserved it,” she mumbled.

  She had stabbed a shifter.

  It sounded worse than it was.

  He shouldn’t have tried to shift and attack her, otherwise she wouldn’t have used reasonable force in return. She believed reasonable force against a predator with large teeth was something equally as pointy, like a knife.

  “Oui, well Commissioner Grayson doesn’t seem to agree.”

  “Look, like I’ve said multiple times, I didn’t know he had an above-average allergy to silver!” She also didn’t know he wasn’t a predator, but a freakishly large swan once shifted.

  It wasn’t one of the highlights of her career.

  “Mon amie, why don’t we play a game? If I detain your guy first, you will stop wallowing in self-pity and take your punishment like an adult.”

  Alice thought about it for a second. “But, if I win, you and everyone else will stop interfering on my contracts.”

  “Non, I don’t have that power. But I will speak to Grayson.”

  Alice bit her lip, annoyed. “Fine.”

  Danton nodded, his flirtatious expression gone, replaced with stern professionalism. That was also one of the reasons she would never sleep with him. How could someone switch their sensuality off like a switch?

  “Show me the details.”

  Target: 267671

  Mr Richard Long – Shifter – Animal unknown – 6ft tall – Medium brown hair.

  Stolen over £1.5 million in precious gems.

  Aggression level – green

  Retrieval fee – Basic/Mid if jewels are retrieved.

  Alice watched as D returned to the shadows before she returned her attention to the dancers. She had been hunting Mr Long for over a week, knew he had plans to attend the festival. She wasn’t concerned over Danton, because she already knew where Mr Long was. The reason she had one of the best retrieval rates was that she was patient. Which, if you asked her best friend and room-mate Sam, he would say was bullshit.

  But she loved her job, enjoyed when contracts came with little information and no photographs. She would track her target for days, even weeks if needs be to make sure it was indeed the right person. Although, this time she knew exactly what Mr Long looked like, she just hadn’t handed over the image to D.

  Smug, she spotted her man among the throng of dancers, his hair recently dyed a bright green. He chatted excitedly to his group of friends, all with equally garish hair colours.

  “Richard Long?” she shouted above the music when she approached.

  He looked her up and down, his eyes slightly glassy. “Hey pretty lady, you fancy a dance?” He grabbed her, hands gripping her hips as he began to rub himself against her.

  Alice wanted to cringe, but she lived with a shifter, so was used to the physical affection that their animal halves craved. Humans were still repulsed by the almost aggressive friendliness, but shifters meant no harm, usually.

  His eyes went wide when his hand found the hidden dagger strapped to her thigh.

  “Mr Long, you’re under arrest…” She clipped the handcuff on his left wrist.

  He shoved her, hard enough that she fell into his friends. He ran towards the closest Chinese restaurant, throwing people out the way. Alice followed through, jumping over the smashed plates and dodging the shocked customers. He quickly burst through the back door, into the dark alley.

  “Mr Long, running is futile,” she shouted after him.

  She heard a dark chuckle. “You sound like a bad B-movie villain.” Danton appeared beside her. “Looks like I’m going to win!” he grinned as he sprinted.

  “The quote is ‘resistance is futile,’” she mumbled as she ran after him.

  CLANG!

  She stepped over D as he held his head, the perfect indent of his face in the silver bin lid. Alice couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped.


  “Crazy bitch!” Mr Long shouted as he cornered himself against a brick wall.

  “Fuck sake, come here.” She went to grab his arm before his fist flashed towards her face. His knuckles brushed past her cheek before she caught his elbow, bending it at a painful angle. “Stay still, or I’ll break your arm,” she threatened.

  Mr Long froze instantly, a pained expression on his face.She released a little pressure, enough so she could click the other handcuff closed behind his back.

  “Petit salaud,” Danton growled, fangs elongating with irritation.

  “Hey, hey!” A man shouted from the mouth of the alley. “What’s happening? What’s Richard arrested for?” The man ran over, his hair a bright blue that reminded Alice of an Iced Gem.

  Danton continued to growl in French, so Alice answered. “Burglary.”

  “What?” Mr Long said, shocked. “Why would I do that?”

  “Look, Richard seriously doesn’t need the money,” blue-head said, defending him. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”

  “Bitch, I’m going to sue you so bad when I speak to my father!”

  “If you’re innocent, why did you run?” D finally calmed down, his eyes not as furious. “And why did you hit me with a couvercle de poubelle?”

  “A what?”

  “He means a bin lid, you know, rubbish?” Alice translated, at least, that’s what she thought he said. Her French was high school rusty at best.

  “Oui, bin lid.”

  “Some random witch and vampire chasing me, surely I’m allowed to defend myself?”

  “If you’re innocent, why did you run?” D asked again, calmer.

  “I thought it might be because of, you know,” he looked around, warily. “The Brimstone?”

  Ah, Alice thought to herself. That explained the glassy eyes.

  “Joseph, call my father!” he grunted as Alice pushed him to the ground, making sure the cuffs were still tight.

  “Looks like I won,” she said, turning to D.

  He just lifted a lip, showing her one long, sharp fang.

  Chapter 2

  “She’s just over here, Detective,” an achingly high-pitched voice said.

  Barbie strutted over, her bleach blonde hair pinned high on her head. She wore an indecently high skirt, her legs on full show as she escorted a man Alice didn’t recognise to her desk.

  Alice froze, a crisp halfway to her lips.

  The man stood for a moment, lips pursed. Eyes sharp, he looked around the forty-second floor, observing the Paladin Agents who were in their cubicles. His suit looked out of place compared to everyone else, Paladins preferring comfortable but practical clothing. Unlike the general street police, they were allowed to carry a large array of weapons including knives and swords. It would be a pain in the arse to have to attach her specially designed spine harness to a suit. To be fair, Paladins had a higher death rate. Which wasn’t surprising considering they were tracking Breed, not humans.

  “You Alice Skye?” the man asked after an uncomfortable silence. He looked her up and down, thick grey eyebrows raised. “The Paladin that brought in Richard Long?”

  “Ah yeah, that’s me.” Alice stood up, dropping the crisp back into its packet before brushing the excess crumbs off her fingertips. “How can I help you?”

  What have I fucked up?

  “The name’s Detective Gruff, I’m in charge of the recent burglary of Orpal and Clous Jewellers.” He flashed her his badge, the movement catching his suit jacket to get a glimpse of the pistol on his belt. “Mr Long is refusing to talk.”

  “Erm, okay?” Alice waited for him to continue. He doesn’t. “What am I supposed to do about it?”

  “He won’t talk to us, he said he will only talk to one of his people.”

  “I’m not a shifter, you know that, right?”

  He waved his hand in irritation. “He means Breed, like you. He asked for you specifically.”

  “Yeah, that’s not really part of my job.”

  “S’pose not, but as I haven’t closed your contract yet, it couldn’t hurt for you to come have a look.”

  Alice fought not to point out the slight hostility. It had been over three centuries since the war, where both Breed and Norms were slaughtered. Over three centuries of agreed peace. Yet prejudice was still strong amongst a handful of people. Alice never really took it personally, always wondered if it was a subconscious instinct that many Norms tried to limit their interaction with people who could eat, maim or kill them by accident or otherwise.

  “Fine, let me grab my blade.”

  Alice frowned as she watched Richard Long and his lawyer sit behind the one-way glass. They spoke animatedly, yet their words were private. She noted his jumpsuit was blue, not red like she expected.

  “Why is he not in a Breed jail?”

  Breed was classed as everyone not one-hundred per cent human. Shifters, witches, mages, vampires, Fae and all in between were classed as Breed. In general, Breed were seen as more dangerous than the Norms, with sharp teeth, claws, excessive strength and magic. So they had a specialised jail that had been spelled to help contain them.

  Richard was a shifter, he could easily break out of the normal jail with his strength alone.

  “See the suit?” Detective Gruff gestured to the interrogation room. “He’s one of the top lawyers in the country. Apparently, he’s on retainer for the family. Got himself a plush cell with a games console and everything. He’s some rich kid who likes to play with daddy’s money.”

  “Can they even do that?”

  “For enough money, apparently,” he murmured, unimpressed. “You ready?”

  This wasn’t part of her job, she didn’t question people.

  “Hi,” she greeted when she entered the room, followed by the Detective. “I’m Agent Skye.”

  “Yes, you’re the woman who arrested me,” Richard said, looking towards his lawyer who nodded before holding out his hand.

  “I’m Mr Flakenson, I’ll be representing Mr Long.”

  Alice shook his hand before returning her attention to Richard. “Why am I here, Mr Long?”

  “They don’t believe me.” He leant forward, his arms braced on the metal table. “I didn’t do it.”

  “I don’t quite understand what that has to do with me?”

  “They’re not listening to me because I’m Breed. You’re an officer, right?”

  “Well, no…”

  “You have to listen to me.”

  “Mr Long, if you could turn your attention to the screen beside you,” Detective Gruff said. “I expect this CCTV footage will be of great interest.”

  The screen showed a man in the high-class shop Orpal and Clous, smashing the glass cabinets and grabbing the jewellery inside.

  “What’s this?” Richard asked, shocked.

  “Quiet,” Mr Flakenson growled.

  “THAT’S NOT ME!”

  “Quiet, Richard. You do not have to say anything.”

  Alice ignored them, instead concentrating on the footage. It was clear from the high-tech image that it was Richard in the security footage, his face uncovered.

  “When was this taken?” Richard asked, his voice shaking with worry.

  “Exactly two weeks ago, around midnight.”

  “That’s impossible,” Mr Flakenson said. “My client was in Ibiza for a month. He got back only a few days ago, which makes it difficult to prove this was him.”

  “Richard,” Alice started, “was this you?”

  “My client doesn’t have to answer that.”

  Richard shook himself, eyes wide in panic. “I was in Ibiza, it’s all over social media. Besides, why would I do it? I don’t need the money.”

  “Money is not always the motive, Mr Long,” Detective Gruff added.

  “I need a moment with my client, if you could excuse us?”

  Alice followed Detective Gruff out.

  “You think he’s guilty?” Alice asked once he stopped at a desk, the chair squeaking when he sat d
own.

  “Who else is in the security footage? He’s a fool, he didn’t even wear a mask or gloves.”

  “You checked his social media to back up his alibi?” Alice searched for his social tag, finding it easily. He wasn’t lying, he was a rich kid who liked to show off every second of his life. Images of him posing with his private plane, champagne in hand. Others of him on a beach while one was him reading a newspaper, the date when zoomed matching up with his story.

  Gruff grunted when she showed him.

  “The timestamps match. I don’t think he can be in two places at once, never mind countries, can you?”

  “The image is clear, and no, he hasn’t got an identical twin.”

  “What other evidence do you have? Other than the footage?”

  Detective Gruff sighed, crossing his arms as he picked up a folder from his desk, opening it. “Nothing.”

  “What do you mean nothing? You said yourself he was a fool not to wear gloves. What about fingerprints?” Alice pulled a spare chair from another desk, placing it opposite the Detective.

  “No fingerprints that match Mr Long.” He scanned the notes. “No hair follicles, or skin. No DNA what-so-ever. But it doesn’t matter, the image is there, clear as day.”

  Alice sat back in the uncomfortable chair. “How likely is it to find no DNA?”

  “Almost impossible.” He set down the folder, the page open to show a static image of the security footage.

  It showed Richard facing the camera, dressed in simple jeans and a t-shirt. No gloves. No mask.

  “He’s going to be charged, they don’t necessarily need physical evidence with something like this.” Detective Gruff said, pointing to the image. “But his hot-shot lawyer will probably get him house arrest until the trial.”

  “What if he’s innocent?” Alice asked.

  “That’s for a judge to decide.” He sighed. “Ridiculous. My last case before I retire and it’s some rich kid playing up.”