Revenge of the Witch
REVENGE OF THE WITCH
By J. M. DAVIES
This book is a work of fiction. Any reference to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by J.M.Davies
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All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
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Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2018
ISBN
Author J.M.Davies
Cover Art provided by G.S.Prendergast.
Copyediting provided by Faith Williams from the Atwater Group.
Acknowledgements
Each book is a journey from beginning to end. I have a vision for the plot and development of characters, but it is only with the help of a faithful band of supporters that the story is brought to life. I want to thank Faith Williams my editor, and my cover artist Gabrielle Prendergast.
I want to mention my dear friend Dianne Donovan, who is an avid reader and has proofread my last several books, which gives me great peace of mind before publication. I want to thank my close writing friend Jennifer Smith, who provides invaluable feedback, which makes me a better writer.
I want to thank my sister Hilary Holland, who finds time to read my work and offer advice. I would like to thank my brother-in-law Chris Philips, a talented musician and song-writer who created, The Fall especially for this book. Finally, I have to say writing wouldn’t be possible without my brilliant husband Paul Davies, who believes in me and refuses to let me give up. Writing a book is a process that involves a team of people committed to its success, and I am grateful for each one.
Other books by J. M. Davies
The Rise of Orion Series
Capturing the Last Welsh Witch
The Witch’s Heart
The Vineyards of Allegretti
Diamonds in the Rough Series
Marnie’s Plan
CHAPTER ONE
The noxious cauldron of overpowering odors swirled around Ella, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to quench the need to vomit. Her ability to detect other life-forms by their distinctive smell wouldn’t help today during this unprecedented gathering when she needed to focus. To distract herself, she surveyed the rich elegant wood paneling that encased the lower half of the four sides of the room. Above, the walls were painted antique white and several works of art highlighted the rugged Maine coastline. A fast wave of nausea rolled over her, and she pushed the chair back from the long mahogany dining table, needing space from the eclectic array of humans’ and non-humans’ cloying scents.
“Steel, you called this gathering, and as members of the Assembly, we agreed to attend to discuss the catalogue of murders that are sweeping across the Northeast. I came to find answers. My people hold the humans responsible, but I have no desire for a bloodbath. However, a line has been crossed. If the deaths persist, there will be retaliation. Among the dead are werewolves and vampires, but where are the human casualties? The laws of the Assembly forbid us to harm them, and I’m doing my best to restrain my people from seeking revenge, but the numbers are rising. Do you have the answer we seek?” Roman, the mysterious prince of the Northern territories of vampires, shouted. Several fists slammed on the table, making it vibrate, along with angry bellows from several of the other guests.
“Let me explain,” Ben Steel said.
“Steel, please, let me answer this. I am Alexander Blake, from the US government—well, a covert section called the Watchmen. Yeah, before you say it, I don’t like the name either, but it explains what we do. My department watches for unusual events, or occurrences, and we investigate. We are aware of other entities on Earth and have been for decades. Until now, we have been merely observing your interaction with our kind with minimal intervention. However, humans are being systematically murdered too. We have unsolved cases that bear the same MO as yours. The details are secret, because we don’t want to start a mass panic with the general public, but the numbers sufficient to render my direct involvement. The autopsies revealed that each victim died from a fatal toxin that we haven’t encountered before and have no vaccine against. We have no alternative but to become allies, and we are as impatient for answers as you.”
Ella watched as the room fell silent, and heads nodded in agreement.
“I am King Zayn Atreyu of the Tuatha De Danann, or the Fae. We are here at the behest of our Goddess Danu, who urged us to assist where we can. We are not yet affected by any suspicious deaths, but I fear it is only a matter of time. I agree we need to join together to protect our people.” The king—by far the largest of the creatures in the room, all taut muscle, long, dark braided hair that fell beyond his broad shoulders, with a matching braided beard and a fierce, unyielding face—glared at the others.
A snicker of laughter came from a young man with a pleasant smile who sat opposite to him. All eyes feasted upon him as he pointed at the king of the Fae.
“You—you are the king of the fairies?” The light, high-pitched voice echoed around the hushed room.
King Zayn shot up out of his chair, highlighting his impressive six-foot-seven stature, every inch a conqueror in his mud-brown attire as he leaned