A Touch of Death
A Touch of Death
Death Witch, Book 1
Ella Grey
Breathless Press
Calgary, Alberta
www.breathlesspress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Touch of Death
Copyright © 2014 Ella Grey
ISBN: 978-1-77101-292-8
Cover Artist: Justyn Perry
Editor: Jayne Wolf
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in reviews.
Breathless Press
www.breathlesspress.com
There’s a saying, never work with children or animals. I was pretty sure they should have added lovers to that list. With a careful motion, I unrolled the blueprints and moved the four pink crystals into each of the corners to keep it in place. I fought against the urge to reach across the blueprint and throttle Patrick Maroon. Instead, I kept my focus on the paper and ignored the way he rolled his eyes at everything that left my lips. After a while, I couldn’t take it any longer.
“Rick, if you think that you can do this better please go ahead. I mean, I’m just the one who planned the whole thing, picked the piece we would be stealing, and on top of that worked the spells we need to get through this and not end the night in a police cell or worse.” I glared at him and he raised his hands in mock surrender.
He was a good-looking guy, no doubt about it. A Sylph, which meant he was more element held together by will than a flesh and blood human. Light blue hair was brushed away from an angular face and piercing eyes that matched his hair. Elementals weren’t tied to any particular shape but the one he’d chosen had an interesting effect on something a lot lower than my heart. He’d managed to charm his way right into my bed and became my partner for my current plan.
It had bad idea written all over it.
“Of course not, Sweets. You’re right this is your plan and it’s a fine one at that.” I was about to speak when he raised his hand, cutting and pissing me off. “You’ve got an Elemental at your command. Wouldn’t it be easier to tell me what you wanted and I could go in there and get it for you?” That put upon Southern accent was starting to drive me insane.
“I already told you; you’ve got your part of the plan. You need to be your air form and keep an eye on the security detail. There is no way in telling if they have guards against the more supernaturally inclined.”
Patrick scoffed. “I’m starting to believe that you don’t trust me. What makes you think that you’re a better thief than one who has a non-corporeal form?”
I crossed my hands over my chest and the black clothes I planned on wearing for the job. “You have to be solid to pick it up and leave the building. I’m not depended on using my witchy skills. I use my human ones as well.”
“Of course, you are the professional after all.” The words were a compliment but it sounded more like an insult coming from him. I was surprised that the relationship, and I used the word loosely, had lasted as long as it had. A creature of the air meant that his interest was fickle at best. Patrick made his way around the table. How long would it take before he left or would he need a magical assist?
“Come on Fiona. There’s no point in arguing. We both know this job backwards, forwards, and everything in-between. May I suggest spending the next few hours doing something else we both enjoy doing?” He picked up my hand and brought it to his lips. My breath caught as my body betrayed me. Its reaction annoyed the hell out of me. I was pretty sure I didn’t even like him anymore but he was right. There were others things we did incredibly well.
I glanced down at blueprints. He did have a point. I knew the plan inside and out. Get in, grab it, and get out. As far as plans went, it couldn’t have been any simpler. A majority of the preparations had taken place weeks in advance. That was the point of being a successful thief. You had to know every angle, plan for every eventuality. It was a skill I had down to a fine art. Patrick reached up, brushing a stray strand of red hair away from my cheek. “Come on, Sweets. I’m dying for another taste.” His lips followed the same path as his fingers had done a moment before, trailing down to my lips. I wanted to push him away but as soon as those soft lips of his brushed over mine, I was lost. They swept any logical thought out of the window with one swift kiss. His fingers traced a path up the back of my top; I shivered as he held me pressed up against him.
One more night and that was it
, I swore to myself. It wasn’t my fault that kisses from him were addictive. The Elementals had a power to them, worshipped as Gods in another lifetime. That burst of air filled every part of me and I greedily took it. I broke the kiss long enough to smile. “Come on then, we’ve got an hour,” a whisper so much like a caress.
Patrick grinned wickedly. “I can work with that.”
Power at the base of my neck pulsated as the tattoo of the rune burst into life. I wasn’t too worried about using my powers to do something simple since I’d recuperate it quickly. There was a shimmer of air behind him and I pushed him into it, following closely behind. I’d heard of the horror stories, what happened when a body got trapped when the portal closed too soon. I didn’t think that it would hurt a being with no physical form. It might sting but it wouldn’t be life threatening. Me, on the other hand, well I was quite attached to my limbs.
The portal opened up in my bedroom and I pushed him onto the bed, he pulled me along with him and I landed on a solid and very naked chest before his lips were back on mine. It was always a stark reminder that Patrick was nothing more that well packed air. His fingers unbuttoned my trousers and I helped push them down with my underwear until they tangled between my ankles. There was no point in worrying about getting rid of them. After all, I didn’t have to be completely naked for what Patrick had in mind. A gasp escaped me as he teased the folds between my legs. It was like he knew exactly what I needed to get off and he used that knowledge with deadly precision. A slight curl around my clit and I buried my head into the curve of his neck, a whimpering ball of need. Why the hell did I want him so much? I mean it wasn’t like he was a nice person. A shiver rippled through me and he pushed a finger into my wetness. A cry escaped me as I ground and moved against him as if my life depended on it.
“Oh, Sweets, you like this don’t you? No, don’t answer that. I can feel it, the walls of your pretty little pussy tightening around my finger. You’re close too, aren’t you? It won’t be long until you’ll be gripping my finger like a vice and I’ll be slipping inside of you. I know you like that, how full I make you feel.” The way he whispered the words into my ear was sexy as hell. The Sylph could compete in talking dirty as an Olympic sport. A slight pressure against the cluster of nerves had me spiralling closer into the abyss. I clutched the back of his top, moving against him. Another finger pushed into me and I slipped into oblivion.
The first time it happened had surprised the hell out of me. Now as he gently slipped into my body, sharing the orgasm that rode through me as his body, it made everything more intense. There were rules. What we were doing broke a big one. Allowing a Sylph to share your body space, it was incredibly intimate and very dangerous. If he chose that moment to become solid inside of me well that would be incredibly messy and very much the end of me. Patrick told me after the first time that it was the way the Sylph traditionally had sex, I had no idea what the other three did. It wasn’t like I wanted to dwell on it. My body was pressed against my bed as I became fully submerged in him. There were no words to describe it. Every nerve sung a song like he plunked the strings on a harp. Every tired muscle came to life as my blood oxidized. Sex with Patrick always felt like five years had been knocked off my age. I was quicker on my feet. My mind worked faster. The effect didn’t last for long, a few days or a week if I was really lucky. I could get the same result if I drunk loads of coffee except with less jitters.
He rose out of me and I turned around, pulling up my underwear and trousers. A true Sylph form was certainly something to see, like the wisps of a cloud being pulled and knotted together. He slowly came back to himself, taking a more solid shape as he lay next to me on the bed.
“Are you sure that I can’t persuade you?” he asked. It took me a second to realize that he was back to talking about the job. Why the hell couldn’t he just let it go and stop acting like a dog with a bone? That one question knocked the afterglow of sex right out of me and I was back to being pissed off. I rolled onto my side and frowned. “Why do you want to do it so desperately? You haven’t shut up about doing it for me. I’ve been a thief for five years and managed perfectly fine before you.” I stumbled back to my feet. “Let’s head downstairs and go over the plan again.” Patrick groaned and I raised my hand before he started to complain. “Fine, you stay up here but make sure you come down in a few hours. You might think that you know this plan inside out but there is nothing like being too prepared as a thief.” That time I didn’t bother opening a portal.
I spared a glance over my shoulder. Patrick was stretch out on my bed, his arm over his ears. The snore that escaped his lip reminded me of an incoming thunder storm. All those questions about the job and his eagerness to do it for me raised some interesting thoughts. I trusted him, well to a certain extent; we wouldn’t be picking out floral curtains anytime soon. Something was wrong and I didn’t have a clue to what it was.
I knew what I had to do first, a trip to my garden to grab some supplies, in case Patrick thought that double crossing me was a good idea.
***
The Gem of Merck was a ruby the size of a fist and the most powerful conduit for making contact with the dead in the known world. It was also in the possession of a vampire who’d gladly bite into a vein than let me have it. Vampires weren’t usually known for their compassion and it wasn’t like I planned to tell him why I wanted it. I had a buyer lined up for the gem but we were in agreement, I was allowed to use it first and then it was all his.
Patrick trailed behind me in his non-corporeal form. No-one could actually see him, unless they squinted their eyes, tilted their heads to the left and then maybe, just maybe, they caught a shimmer. It was like having my own personal ghost.
The Grand Hotel of Maripoor was a place that only the rich could get in to and only if they were lucky. There were three floors, not counting the basement or what they used for an attic. The gem was kept in a specially designed case in Zachary Heron’s office. There were an uncountable number of cameras dotted around the floors. The only way I was getting pass them is if there was a power cut. I grinned and gently ran the pad of my thumb over the earring in my left ear, partially hidden by my black hair. A glamour that had been carefully woven against my skin, even my grandmother wouldn’t know me.
I approached the double doors, mostly glass with intricate metal work around the corners. The iron was supposed to ward off the fey. The little blighters were a dangerous bunch, beautiful in a creepy kind of way and more likely to chew on your hand than shake it. I pushed the doors open and made my way to the waiting area. Patrick dispersed and would reform in the security office and I sat down. A few people glanced my way but paid me little attention. I carefully brushed my hair over my ear and rubbed the earring, putting a little more pressure on it until it clicked, destroying the enchanted rune hidden in it. A gentle pulse travelled through the room, and anything that was electric cut out.
The effect wasn’t immediately noticeable. There was the sound of fingers clicking on a keyboard and a phone being picked up, to be put back down again. “That’s odd.”
I glanced over to the reception area to see the receptionist, a human with her dark hair pinned up and a pencil in her hand. She frowned as a man walked around the desk. “What’s wrong?”
“The computers have died and when I tried to call up tech support, the phone is gone too. Try your mobile?”
He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and glanced at the phone he’d retrieved. “That’s strange, it’s completely dead. I only charged it up this morning.”
Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I stood. There was about ten minutes before the power came back on. The lifts were out; I needed to take the stairs. The office was empty since Zachary was in London attending the Vampire’s Council Meeting. The whole hotel was running on a skeleton crew but Patrick should have sorted out anyone who’d be standing guard upstairs. I shook out my hand until the lighter slipped free, resting in my hand. I didn’t want to rely on my more flammable gifts. We’d cut out the electrical but I doubted it included the fire alarms. I double checked my watch, one minute down, and nine to go. I jogged up the last few steps and pushed the door open.