Alice Killings Novels & Stories

“She did this to me! Avery stole Damon from me! She ruined my life! She deserves all of this!” She turned to the crowd, lifting her voice even louder so everyone could hear. My lips parted, but no sound came out. Then Jessica turned to the crowd, raising her voice for the whole hall. “Everyone listen! Alice White is NOT the White Claw heiress. She is Avery Coleman! The murderer who tried to kill me and went to jail! She's a danger to us all. Who knows who she would try to kill next?” My heart cracked open. Voices erupted instantly, faces twisted in disgust, fingers pointing at me.

I spread out my notes,such as they were,and stared at the list of names. Madden Lighter. She'd been hostile, then less hostile. She'd lost Natalie, then Alice. She had a key to the BioMed lab. But she hadn't left the napkin. Myles Clay. Alice's boyfriend. Grieving. Gentle. He'd been at the lake that night, but he had an alibi. Twenty witnesses at a party. Could he have slipped away? Ashley Grant. My roommate. Friendly. Too friendly? She'd been in the library the night Alice died. Security footage confirmed it. But security footage could be faked.

After dinner, the cup of milk appeared right on schedule. I lifted the cup, took a couple of sips, and kept the liquid in my mouth. Faking a trip to pour some water, I silently spat it out into the kitchen sink. The faint, bitter aftertaste clung stubbornly to the back of my tongue. I poured the remaining half-glass of milk into the sterile vial. At 1:00 am, thinking I was fast asleep, Alice slipped quietly out of bed. My eyes were cracked open just enough to see her grab her phone and walk out into the living room.

But inside, I was unraveling, the weight of everything threatening to crush me. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the lamps casting long shadows across the walls. Annalise was sitting up in bed, her face pale but determined. She looked at me as I entered, her eyes searching mine for answers. “Did you find out anything?” she asked, her voice steady despite the exhaustion that clung to her like a shroud. I nodded, my heart heavy with the burden of what I had to tell her. “It was Spencer,” I said quietly. “He was behind the accident. The mechanic confessed.”

"I heard your conversation. About Cecilia, about the price I had to pay, about all of it." Adrin began to tremble. "Tell me the truth, Adrin," I said, sitting up, the power of my own bloodline radiating from me. "Tell me exactly how Marcus killed Rylan." "Luna, please, don't—" "Tell me!" Adrin collapsed to his knees, utterly broken. "It… it was wolfsbane," he choked out. "A slow-acting dose, mixed into Rylan's milk every day. Little by little… by little…"

“You can’t kill me. Not when I still have your name.” Then she turned to me. “And you, Clara Vale, should ask yourself what it costs to wear another woman’s identity.” Her words made my stomach drop. “What do you mean?” She tilted her head. “Did he tell you what happened to the last woman who pretended to be me?” Lucien’s hand tightened on his weapon. “Don’t.” Her smile widened. “She’s buried in Prague.” “Enough!” he barked. The tension snapped like a wire. Lucien moved fast—too fast. He grabbed her wrist before she could reach into her coat. I heard the metallic click of a gun hitting the floor.

Everyone asked, "Alice, were you the Moon Goddess herself in a past life? How else could you have landed such an incredible mate?" Even Alice herself began to wonder if that was the case. That was, until the day after Alexander was ambushed and killed by a group of rogue wolves. Alice, now 75 years old and silver-haired, went to the city hall in the capital of the werewolf kingdom to handle his deregistration. The clerk typed away, then her expression slowly shifted, growing complicated. "Ms. Clearwater, the system shows you have no spouse on record." Alice froze, thinking she had heard the clerk wrongly.

But now, he could be wrong, for Caine had no reason to kill Alana unless… “Amal. Thea Amal. Have you heard of that name?” Albert’s tempo got a bit faster. Willow tried to recall. “I do. But I don’t think I’ve seen a file pertaining to her.” Of course not, why would she have one? Albert flashed back to the time he had to rescue Caine from the den of the Disciples because of Amal’s betrayal. The forest he ran through was thick, Charles’ bleeding from a GSW, and they had someone dead with them—killed by a knife to the back; only the knife was a handgun; and the back in that instance was a head.

Alpha Killing retuned with an appetite the size of a whale's. "Who made this?" He asked as he hungrily churned down the slice of cheeseburger. "It's Lerah," I said politely. "Hmm... Her cooking gets better and better by each day," he commended her. "Ciro would surely love to have a taste of this." Ciro had gone to his own house, probably cooking what to eat or eating what he had cooked earlier. A male beta came looking for Killian immediately. Killian shut his eyes and conversed with the beta through the mind-link. After a cold three minutes of their conversation, which had looked so awkward to me his eyes studied my body for a moment and he speaks to me.

"Ladies and gentlemen! I brought you Alice!" Mr. Darking announced, his voice echoing through the room. The black-coated and white-hatted individuals turned their attention towards me, their eyes wide with curiosity. I blinked, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden attention. "Um, hello," I greeted with a sheepish smile. "Nice to meet all of you, I suppose." A man in a black coat with a remarkably long and crooked nose stepped forward, adjusting his hat. "Ah, the elusive Alice! We've been awaiting your arrival for quite some time," he said, his voice nasally and dramatic.