Facets of Feyrie Box Set, page 52
part #1 of Facets of Feyrie Series
Now I need to make a sauce to pour over it. Playing the video on my phone again, I plug in the blender. The video says I’m supposed to stew the giblets in a soup pot for an hour or so, but since I forgot, I need to hurry it along. I figure by using the blender to liquefy the giblets I can skip the stewing step and dump them on the bird. Isn’t that basically what the broth is?
Plugging the blender in I cram a couple of organs into it and quickly run out of space. Okay, fine, I’ll do a couple at a time. Forcing the lid closed, I hit the ‘smoothie’ setting. I want them smooth, right? When it starts smoking, I’m only a little concerned. When it starts shaking all over the place and making grinding noises, I have a flashback to the microwave horror.
Oh, shit.
It dies, and I yank the cord out of the wall. It’s smoking like a bonfire, and the giblets are not smooth!
Fuck.
The goblins step in, and the blender and the mess accompanying it quickly disappear.
Thanking them, I turn and focus on the bird. Sliding it onto the rack, I shut the door of the oven with a sigh of relief. Leaning on the counter, I watch the oven start cooking it. Feeling satisfied that it didn’t immediately catch on fire, I head to my room to shower.
Leaning against the door jam is this tall, solid wall of muscle that smiles that dimpled smile that makes me want to poke his cheeks. He goes to kiss me, and I dodge under his arm.
Bird. Stink. Wash. Off. Then we can make out.
When I hear his laughter, I know he heard my thoughts. Climbing in the shower, I almost hope he climbs in too. He pokes his head in the door, kisses me hard on the mouth, and then he’s gone.
Oh. He was still in my head.
So, like I normally do in the shower, I think.
Think, Iza, think.
Someone attacked the Sidhe. The humans sent people to try and take my kids. I add it to the growing mental list of things I need to research. Phobe was also sneaking off and eating humans, but that doesn’t really bother me that much. I mean, I get it. He’s sneaky, and I’m not.
And if I have to guess he was after something specific.
‘Yes, locations. Information about your missing dragons, and how much they know about you,’ Phobe supplies.
Gone but not gone, I see.
He still scares the shit out of me in some ways. Especially now. We had hours of the best sex imaginable. Something inside of me knew it was time to take that step, but now I feel awkward—no—that’s not the right word.
Shy? Am I shy? Chuckling at myself, I wash my face.
‘Does this mean you still want to… make out?’ he asks smugly. Throwing my head back, I laugh. The shower door flies open, and he drags me out of the shower to the bed.
I forget all about the big bird cooking.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Watching her sleep is strangely enjoyable. And if the memories in my brain serve probably somewhat disturbing. Before me lay the salvation of the Feyrie whether they realize it or not. Their ideas and beliefs are skewed. They think all she’ll do is awaken the dark king who will ride in and save everyone. While really, it’s her saving everyone and her job would be easier if she had help. She’s the only reason an attempt to save them will be made at all. That makes her much more important than the dark king in the scheme of things.
Honestly, I’ll only fight for her, because I don’t give two shits about the prophecy or the Feyrie. Just her. I’ll do anything that needs to be done to make sure she survives—even if it means destroying every single creature in existence.
Whatever threat exists, I will find.
For her, I will go to war—not for vengeance, not for freedom but her and only her. I’ll make sure she gets where she needs to be, and may the so-called gods pity anyone who gets in my way.
I won’t.
Moving her hair out of her face, I stroke her cheek with my thumb. It concerns me that the Sidhe was attacked. That it came from someone unknown. Something is fishy with some of the people here. Iza should be able to feel a traitor but if they’re not always the traitor—what if someone is borrowing their bodies?
There are two ways that a body can be borrowed. One that is parasitic and burrows into the brain of its host, and one that can take them over spiritually. I think this is a case of the latter. I’m not sure who it can possibly be.
Without thinking too hard, I have immediate suspicions, but those aren’t enough. Not this time. I know that Life is sticking his nose in, especially with Iza. The prophecy has always been his baby, and he tells it in whatever fashion will get results.
“You know, when you think super hard, you get little lines right here,” Iza says, poking the space between my eyes.
“I didn’t know this.”
“So what ya thinking about?”
“Who could be doing the attack here without you knowing.”
“I dunno. I checked all the strands, and I found nothing.”
I tell her about my theory.
“So you think someone is borrowing someone’s body?” she asks me.
“Yes. It would explain their ability to get through the wards and avoid detection by either one of us.” I watch her face closely.
“We aren’t going to be able to find them, are we?”
Kissing her slowly I enjoy that still-sleepy look she’s wearing, and then I give her the bad news. “More than likely, no. Unless you see them try to use Magiks while borrowing the form, they’re undetectable.”
“That’s how they evaded the slaughter of the Feyrie?” I nod to answer her question.
Chewing on her lip, she climbs out of bed to slip a robe on, all the while thinking through the information I gave her. “I have to check the bird.”
Following her through the house, I watch her face when she looks in the oven.
“There’s a fucking spoon on it. Well, what’s left of a spoon,” she mutters, thumping her head against the wall once. She straightens and says, “How can we draw them out?”
There’s only one thing that might draw this creature out.
“Use me,” I offer. She makes a face at me. I know why Iza has been protecting my identity like she has. I have killed many Feyrie—millions. Some of the Feyrie here will remember the face I wore then.
“Iza, I can change my face.”
“Do they know the face I see?” As far as I can recall, no one but her has seen this face. Ever. I shake my head. “How does using you help though?”
“The dark king, Iza. His presence will draw them out.”
“Oh, that’s a little different.” Cocking her head to the side, she comes over and surprises me by wrapping her arms around my waist, and says, “Are you ready for that?”
Here she is, her life in danger, and she is worried if I’m ready to admit who I really am?
Shit.
“The Feyrie are not ready for that, not yet. Let’s focus on the humans for now. At least they’re a threat we know,” she says. She’s not wrong, and the Feyrie won’t tolerate one who murdered so many of their kind sharing the life and bed of the woman they hold in a sacred position.
Lifting her and wrapping her legs around my waist, I head back towards the bedroom. While Iza is preoccupied with the humans, I’ll work on figuring out who our mole is here—who is being controlled—and do what needs to be done.
When I find them, I’ll find their master.
Chapter Fifty
He has that frown on his face again. It’s his only tell that something is on his mind. He’s lying across from me on the bed staring at the ceiling. Unlike me, he doesn’t need sleep. I wonder if that allows him to get more done or get bored more often? He rolls to his side and kisses my cheek before climbing out of bed. Guessing, I’d say he’s going to try and see if he can find out who the traitor is while I’m fiddling with the humans.
Or not traitor. If they’ve been body-snatched, it’s beyond their control now. From what Phobe said, they lose a piece of their soul every single time they’re occupied. Until eventually, there is nothing left.
For all intents and purposes, they’re dead.
Sunlight creeps in through the window. I had no idea it was that early. Groaning, I crawl out of bed and drag some clothes on. As I near the kitchen, I can smell the bird cooking. It had to cook all night to be cooked enough for Thanksgiving. It weighs something like two-hundred pounds.
I still think I should’ve bought a few more.
The house goblins are taking care of the side dishes. I’m hoping no one notices the melted blue plastic spoon stuck to the right leg. Why did I even have the spoon near the big bird? Oh, I remember now. I was feeding the not-giblets to the goblins.
Putting on my gloves, because no one likes getting burned, I open the massive oven door and peek in. The big bird is a golden-brown color, and the skin looks crispy and yummy. Sliding the rack out, I lift the bird out and put it on the counter. Gods, this thing is huge. Carefully I tug on the stuck spoon. I don’t want the bird to fall apart, because I was a dumbass and left a spoon on it. It takes part of the skin and a little meat, but otherwise, there’s no noticeable damage. Good, the bird is still pretty.
Smiling, I stab it with my daggers, lift it out of the pan and put it on the huge decorated plate the goblins made for me. Grabbing the plate by its fancy gold handles, I carry it to the dining room. The huge table is covered in all kinds of fantastic foods, both human and Feyrie. Some are even still moving.
The goblins went all out today.
Grinning, I place the bird at the center of the table and stand back, feeling a little tiny bit proud of myself. I cooked a bird for our day of thanks.
“My lady, that actually looks edible,” Nika comments, taking a seat across from me. Casting a dirty look at her, I fight the urge to throw potatoes in her face. She seems so surprised I made something edible. Sarcastic dragon.
Phobe startles me when he pulls my chair out for me.
‘The humans do this for their females,’ he assures me.
Shrugging, I sit down and giggle a little when he lifts the chair and I both to scoot us to the table. Looking around the room, I discreetly touch each individual with my Magiks. Noting each face, whether they are smiling or sad, and what I see makes me smile so hard my face hurts from it.
People are serving themselves, talking, smiling. Some of them simply look happy.
Thanksgiving is a great day to spend time with my family.
Christmas will be even better. We can give presents on that day and have lights everywhere that twinkle to music. And cookies, and hot chocolate and the kids and I can try to catch the fat man. Maybe we can bake lots of cookies to lure him down our chimney. Not that we have one yet, but we will for the holidays. I wonder if he tastes like sugar since all he does is eat cookies?
Moving onto more serious things, Jameson and I need to do more research… wait, not everyone is here. I climb to my feet and search the room and inside on the web for him. Only one thing is loud and clear.
Jameson is afraid.
Climbing up on the table, I shout, “Where the fuck is my nerd?”
Acknowledgments
Thank you, the reader of this book, for all the support you have given me to write it. Without you, this world wouldn’t exist to anyone but me.
Jason, you are my rock. And yes, while there are days I might want to punch you right in your pretty face I still love you to distraction. Thank you for feeding me when I zone out all day. For making sure I have enough sense to sleep, for being the one person who tells me it’ll be okay, no matter what. Love you, tinkertits. (Every book will have a diff nickname for you)
Thank you, Squad!
As always, my kids. You are the only beautiful things that came out of my existence.
Deception
The Facets of Feyrie Series Book Three
To snotface, thank you. If not for your unending love, I’d be in pieces.
Prologue of a Big Boob
Jameson
“Stupid mud holes,” I mutter under my breath while trying to swipe at the muddy slush that’s now covering my right pant leg to the knee. Slowing my pace, I scrape off as much of the mess as I can without completely stopping. I don’t want to be late. This is the third time something has gone wrong since I left the Sidhe. If I were a superstitious person, this could be considered a bad sign, but there’s nothing bad about women and the lovely things I can do with them.
Although, I’ll freely admit to myself that this is a new low for me. Meeting a stranger, physical attributes unseen in a public park isn’t something I usually do. No matter how you look at it, desperate times call for drastic measures. So much so that I’m overlooking all this cloak and dagger business. She’s probably a new member of the Sidhe and wants to protect her privacy.
Considering the old, outdated customs of some of the Feyrie, I can completely understand her hesitance to meet in public. With so many people gathered together in one place, gossip is prevalent. People have reputations to worry about, and all that bother, and because of that, some of the Feyrie still enforce those customs. I don’t feel like getting married this week via a gun pointed at my head.
It’s been a few weeks since I’ve had the company of a beautiful woman. Who am I kidding—months—since I had that kind of comfort, so this encounter shouldn’t take long. If I time this right, I can show my appreciation to the tidbits offered to me and still be back before anyone notices my absence. The first one to notice will more than likely be Nika, the one who is responsible for my sudden dry spell in the company of the opposite sex. Slipping past her wasn’t easy, the woman is a dragon after all, and for some reason, she guards me like I’m some pretty bauble in her hoard.
And even if I am a pretty bauble, I want no part of that mess.
In this specific instance, Nika isn’t who I’m worried about being upset. Iza might kill me if I don’t show up on time. She planned this day’s celebration down to the colors of the napkins and the little paper turkeys on the plates. She spent all night cooking the monstrous bird that everyone will be dining on, without setting the kitchen on fire. She made all this effort is for our family Thanksgiving dinner—and why does that thought make my chest tight?
Stopping those mood-killing thoughts dead in their path, I focus once again on the woman who made this an unexpectedly tedious chase. I hope that she’s attractive because it’ll make up for ruining my good shoes. Not that her being unattractive is a deal breaker, I’m not leaving unsatisfied. I can keep my eyes closed through the entire thing. I’ll also probably keep this little adventure to myself.
All to protect the woman’s honor, of course.
This adventure is also more palatable than eating Iza’s cooking. The plan is to delay it as long as possible because the thought of her cooking scares me more than wandering around in the snow looking for a booty call. The picture of Iza smiling when she’s angry flashes through my mind. Those red lips parting to show me rows of pearly white, razor-sharp teeth. I take that back, Iza scares me more than most things, including her cooking. If she smiles at me that way, I’ll even ask for seconds.
That’s her scary smile, and usually, if she’s wearing it, then someone ends up dead or—at the very least—bleeding profusely. I’ve seen it enough to know. Somehow, I’ve managed to survive most of them.
Wait, I have survived them!
Has my manly personality finally won over the woman? The next thing you know she’ll be singing my praises and telling me how good of a job I’ve done managing the Sidhe.
“I can’t believe he showed up.” The amused voice dumps cold water right on my daydream of Iza crowning me the king of personality.
Straightening my shoulders and planting a panty-charming smile on my face, I look up to find myself instantly and utterly regretting this decision. Yes, the dark-haired, slightly curvy woman standing there with a smirk on her face is incredibly beautiful, but the big hunk of muscle standing beside her with a terrifying, satisfied smile on his face is not my type.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I’ve made a huge mistake. As the woman takes the first steps towards me, I’m frozen in place with fear, and the realization of exactly how bad I fucked up hits me. Cold sweat soaks through the back of my shirt, cooling in the cold air. For once I don’t care if the shirt is ruined, because I’m more worried about shitting my pants.
“The boss man said not to kill him, but he didn’t say that we couldn’t hurt him a little bit,” the big man says, following close behind her.
Without a word, I turn, and with muscles burning, force my stiff legs to move in a direction away from the scary man. Instead of achieving my goal of magically getting back to the Sidhe unharmed with a macho story to tell the ladies, I find myself face first on the cold, wet ground with a crushing weight on top of me. It’s the man who plowed me down like a dragon, taking me down with no warning at all. He laughs while he squashes my face further into the mud with a hand bigger than the back of my head.
A cold metal collar snapping around my neck makes my eyes burn with the desire to weep. I know precisely what that collar is. The Magiks in it are already working, blistering my skin as the spell in it works its way into my body. Not that I stand a chance with either one of them in a fight, Magiks or not. I’m a mediocre healer who dabbles in herbs and potions. Not a fighter like Iza and some of the others. I’ve never wished more than right now that I listened to Iza and started training with Alagard because then I could at least throw a good solid punch or two.
Telepathy would be a handy trait to have right now too. I could scream my head off on their wavelength, and Iza would come and save me. Knowing this, I still try to do it. Screaming in my mind for help like the pussy I am, begging a god that isn’t listening. I’ll eat the whole damn bird if she comes to save me, because this is terrifying, and they are going to kill me.
