Facets of Feyrie Box Set, page 60
part #1 of Facets of Feyrie Series
I got to stop watching so much TV!
“Where’s my nerd?” I ask her, calm, smiling, and letting the fiends clear a path for me to her. I stop to lean against the wall a few feet from her.
“Your nerd?” She repeats, with a bit of a duh look on her face. The minute the realization hits her, she smiles like a cat in the cream. She eyes me up and down. “You don’t look like much.” Then, like the total skank she is, she opens her lips and languidly licks one sharp tooth.
Snorting with laughter I dismiss her as any kind of threat. What’s up with these vampires and their two little teeth? It’s like a dog showing you it has a tail, or a siren making that obnoxious eek noise. It’s just not that big of a deal.
My skin feels heavier; apparently, my glamour is back up again. It’s become a reflex of sorts, the minute I stopped fighting it reflexively returned. Well, we can’t have that. I let it slither off me like a slinky dress, slowly, revealing what I am, entirely, to her and what’s left her of cohorts. The fiend armor, gifted to me, from the legion of fiends, flips out of my skin like scales. Tearing what’s left of my clothes in the process. My hair grows and writhes around my head as my mouth stretches and pulls to make room for all my teeth.
With a serpentine tongue, I too, lick all my sharp teeth. Now the paleness of her face is more pronounced, the cocky look and arrogant smile are gone. The pinpricks of her pupils stare at me in terror. The smell of it makes me smile again the perfume stinks, but her fear smells divine.
“I’m asking you again… where’s my nerd?” Her eyes travel down my arm to the glowing dagger in my hand, then back up to my face where her eyes flicker back and forth as my agitated hair waves around and hiss at her.
“What the fuck are you?” she repeats. Her voice is shaky, breathless. It’s the voice of someone who is about to—she turns and takes off at a pace that knocks over her bodyguards, she just abandoned.
What a great lady.
I realize the mistake I made, in that very second—I stopped paying attention. There are so many vampires around me now that I can’t even begin to count them. With one brief look of longing towards the woman I want to chase down, who’s getting away I might add, I turn my full attention to the problem at hand. There’s no way I’ll catch her and avoid these fuckers, which leaves me one option.
With a roar, I dive into them, the fiends echoing my war call.
It’s moments like this that I understand why people smoke after a big fight scene in the movies. Looking down at my—mostly naked—blood-covered self, I shake my head. All I have left is one boot, my socks, and my underwear. My armor destroyed most of it, but I have no idea where the missing boot went. I hope it’s stuck up one of the vampires' asses. That’s a fitting end to a good boot.
Tired, I hop up on the concrete wall of the parking lot, situating myself to get as comfortable as possible. Fuck, I’m exhausted. There were so many vampires that I lost count at a hundred or so. For a while there I thought they might get the best of me too. If not for the fiends, they might have. Looking up the broken stairway, towards the walkway of the former apartment building, I see the broken and bloody bodies littering the walls, the crumbled stairs some are even hanging off the few, intact balconies. That’s not even counting the ones the fiends fed on. They ate so much that most of them are bloated and lethargic.
The ones left are waiting in reserve.
Honestly, I have no idea how they all fit in that building. It felt like there was a never-ending supply of them. They were coming out of every nook and cranny, even from the roof. That’s not counting the shifters that were mixed up in the group. Although much fewer in number and not as tough as the vampires, in this case, I still noticed their presence.
This all smacks of some lazily thrown together trap. Whoever planned it was sure of its success and not the sharpest spoon in the drawer. All it accomplished was to let the one person who could give me information get away.
“Ma’am, get down on the ground and put your hands on your head.” The yelled order surprises me. Looking at the police officer—who’s pointing a gun at—I hop to the ground and put my hand on my hip to regard him standing a few feet from me.
His pale face and wild eyes tell me he probably saw enough of the encounter to be a bit freaked out, and although my glamour is mostly up—I’m covered in blood and damn near naked. It’s safe to assume he saw things he can’t unsee, and it terrified him.
No normal human wants to know that things like monsters exist here, and I’m a fuzz scarier than the baby toothed vampires. I think it’s time they know; it’s why I let the little human follow me. The one who called this gentleman here, I imagine. The kid is still lurking too, on the sidewalk behind some bushes on the other side of the police officer.
I smile and wink. He’s lucky, if I were a bad guy—a little gun wouldn’t stop me from getting to him. They’re all lucky. This group has probably been feeding on people here, so me killing them saved human lives. Dozens if not more a force this large would’ve required a lot of food. I decide to tell the cop that.
The man startles when I start talking. “You should pay me for killing them for you. I bet you’ve had people going missing left and right lately. Probably good people, and maybe even kids. Am I right?” After a moment of regarding me, he nods.
Then he says, “Lady, you’re a monster too. I saw you.” He licks his lips nervously, the gun wavering in his sweaty hands. I can tell by the white-knuckled grip he has on it that all it will take is one hint of movement and he’ll shoot me.
“Yep, I am, but I’m a different kind of monster. I kill ones like those, the ones who hurt innocent people.” I keep my voice soft, non-threatening.
“What are you? Some vigilante demon?” His voice is getting stronger. I think he’s becoming less afraid because I haven’t tried to rip his head off. If he sprays that poison in my face, though, I can’t make any promises.
Sighing, I flick a random piece of flesh off my arm, I think it might have been a slice of an ear, but I’m not entirely sure. The leather of his belt creaks as he twists his arm around to take the cuffs off the hook. I genuinely don’t want to hurt him. Their motto is to protect and serve. That’s something I can mostly get behind, but I don’t like handcuffs, and I’m tired. I want to go home and bathe and deal with the fallout of sneaking away without telling—
The forlorn appears in front of me and roars, a loud demonstration of his master’s displeasure with me. The fiend’s immediate response is to attack it, males of their kind or not its being aggressive towards me, but I know that it won’t hurt me. The forlorn like me. I’m betting Phobe is worried, and this is an example of it.
“Hi, big guy. You can tell him I’ll be home soon, so he can get his panties out of knots.”
“What the fuck is that!” The retort of the weapon echoes off the walls and drowns out the words he’s yelling. The bullet hits me hard enough in the shoulder to send me a few steps backward. They won’t kill me, but it still stings like a motherfucker. The forlorn turns to him and roars again except this time it’s a different kind of roar. This is one of rage, not annoyance.
“No, don’t hurt him! You scared the shit out of him. He didn’t know that the bullet would go right through you. Now go on, tell Phobe I’m coming home.” I put force in my words. The human reacted. I can imagine how scary a forlorn is to him. All teeth, red eyes, and demon-like visage. I think they’re adorable, but I'm not human, either. With one last look at me, the forlorn disappears.
Letting my fingernails grow I dig the bullet out with a grimace and throw it at the police officer. “Why’d you shoot me?” I demand, hoping that talking to him will calm him down. The forlorn is gone, and it’s just the three of us now. Oh, and the dozens of fiends hidden from his view. I think it’s best not to mention those to him.
“Put those on. I’m taking you in I have no fucking idea what they’ll do with you, but my vest cam caught the entire thing. At least they won’t call me crazy.” I’m not sure if he’s talking to himself or me. He keeps muttering under his breath about going to church.
He turns and digs around inside of his car. I catch the shirt he tosses.
“Put that on first, can’t have you… naked.” Then he goes back to muttering. I almost feel bad for him, but ultimately this will be good for everyone involved. I hope the humans don’t get ideas about military occupations and shit. They’ve learned that lesson I think. I hope.
Sliding the shirt on, I ignore the smell of cologne and human sweat. I smell much worse than the shirt. I’m pretty sure I have some vomit on me too. Probably worse things, I did gut a few of them.
“Well, officer,” I look at the name on his badge, “Monroe, I need to get going, but that kid caught everything on camera, so I bet we’ll both be famous by tomorrow.” The gun comes back up at my words.
Moving fast, I stop in front of him and grab the barrel of the gun, bending it up. I get right in his face, and say, “I have faith in what you do, and I’d rather not hurt you to leave. So, the short version of what happened here is, these were what you humans call vampires and shifters. They fed on and indiscriminately killed humans under your protection. There are stacks of bodies in that building behind me to prove it. I killed them because they took a friend of mine and in the process did you humans a favor. Now, I’m tired, and I want to go home. If you’ll—”
He faints, in my arms, out cold. Gently, I lay him in his car and motion the camera boy out of the bushes. Immediately, he walks over to me. Kids have no brains, I swear.
“Never just come out… what the fuck, kid? I could eat you or something.”
“No way, you killed the bad guys. I heard everything that you said to that one, you—” he clears his throat, nervously, “Chewed on.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m looking for my friend. They took him.”
“This video will be everywhere tomorrow. I’m sure someone will know.” I look right at the camera when he says that.
“I’m going to get you, assholes.” Turning, I start heading back the direction I came. He jogs to keep up with me, rapidly firing questions at me, that I mostly ignore. It doesn’t matter that I agree with this world discovering we exist, but I’m not in the mood to play twenty questions, either. Stopping, I turn to face him, catching him when he almost runs into me.
“Look, there are creatures coming here… ones that want to kill humans or enslave you. Hell, worse things than that I imagine, but it’s my kind that stands in defense of this place. When the time comes, you and your internet minions need to remember that.” Then I turn and jump back towards the room that the Prince is trussed up in. Leaving the boy standing there trying in vain to catch sight of me on that camera phone.
Once I free this guy, I plan on going home. There are too many things I need to get done and not enough time. Plus, Phobe is mad at me, and well, I’ve got to fix that. It outranks everything but taking a bath, because man, I stink.
Busting open the apartment door I stand there gaping at the man tied upside down in the chair, naked. The blue of his eyes is super bright in the dimly lit room. His other nature peeks out of his human façade. This guy is one-hundred-percent Feyrie. Overlaying the average looking human face, I can see the monster he becomes. Michael might be thrilled to know that another of his kind exists here. How did they catch such a powerful Feyrie and hold him so easily?
“Are you going to stand there staring like an idiot or are you going to free me?” Well, what a pretentious twat, maybe I should leave him like that with his man bits just hanging out all over.
“I think I’ll take option three,” I answer.
“What’s option three?”
“I could cut your dick off and shove it in your mouth BEFORE I leave you there to die.” His body tenses, his brain has kicked in now.
“Shit, you’re her.” He sounds so happy about this fact.
“Of course, I’m her. Now, I have some questions for you, Mr. Blood Prince.”
“Can you untie me first?” He sounds much more contrite now, but I’m still tempted to leave him tied to the chair. Instead, I cross to him and grab a handful of the chains holding him. The Light Magiks in them turn my stomach, but it’s not too much for me to deal with. With a hard pull, they snap in my hands, and he slumps down over the side with a grunt of pain. Of course, I leave him there in the man mush pile on the ground.
Slowly, he climbs to his feet and dusts himself off like he’s wearing a five-piece suit. Pretentious twat was a dead-on observation, but the Dark Magiks says he’s not so bad. He’s loyal, and he cares about his people, our people. Whispering as I walk around him, the Magiks tell me all that they can about the Feyrie who escaped the slaughter of his people by coming here.
The Magiks push at me to tell him where to go, and I do, but reluctantly. People like him and I don’t get along well. The scenarios of us butting heads are already playing out in my head. Dane, yes that’s his name here anyhow, is an arrogant know-it-all who’s used to doing things his way. Well, that’s not going to happen.
“How did you end up naked in a chair?” I ask, snooping through the papers on the desk in the room. There’s nothing but magazines and nudie pictures. No receipts, no detailed directions to Jameson. How annoying.
“I foolishly trusted that bitch that ran away.” I can hear him behind me, and it sounds like he’s putting clothes on.
“Stinky? Yeah, she seems to be in the thick of things. Any idea who’s pulling her strings?” I turn and discover he is dressed in a pair of bright pink sweatpants. It’s a genuine struggle not to laugh because they’re at least three inches too short and skin-tight from the thighs down.
“No. My father was a firm believer in the prophecy. Are you really her?” Walking closer to him, I pull the glitter covered strings holding up his pants, tight and tie them. Don’t need his little buddy poking out again.
“You’re going to want to gather anyone loyal to you and take them with you. The Sidhe is one of the few safe places for us, at least for now.” I decide that answering the question is pointless. He can figure things out on his own.
“There aren’t many, but I have a child.”
“Is she safe?” Because if they have her, I will leave Jameson to rot a little while longer to get her out.
“Yes, for now.”
“Good, do you need money?” He stares at me, weighing me with his gaze, then nods.
“Let me go find my wallet. I’m sure it's out there somewhere.” Turning, I go back out to the bloody walkway and dig around in the bodies for my wallet. Eventually, I find it and hand him a wad of money. Without another word, other than the address of the Sidhe, I turn and leave. He can make his way there. I’ve got a pissed off ‘godman’ to go home to.
Chapter Nine
When the forlorn found her, my annoyance traveled through him. She stood mostly naked and bloody, with a fucking smirk on her face—while a human stood there with a gun pointed at her. There were dozens of corpses scattered around, mostly in pieces. She killed them all, alone, and even though I was momentarily proud of her for that, it pisses me off that she snuck away while I was gone. If there had been someone waiting for her someone more powerful than her, I would have lost her. All because of her foolish stubbornness.
Plus, she got the pleasure of killing things while I was stuck reading dusty old books and dealing with a pissed off records keeper—that I could not kill—all for her. It didn’t dissuade her from going off like a complete simpleton, half-cocked, all for of an imp that’s not worth any of this.
I want to bloody strangle her!
The hours I have spent pacing in front of this doorway, waiting for her to come walking through it, only made me think more about the situation. There was no point in my going after her, not when she’s coming here, but in hindsight, it might have been better for both of us. All this waiting, pacing, and thinking has made me angrier than I might have otherwise been.
When the door creaks open, echoing along with a guilty muttered curse word, I lean against the wall and watch her try to tiptoe inside. Of course, she trips over someone’s shoes, the rug, and manages to somehow knock pictures off the wall. Full-on cursing now, she runs a hand through her hair and her eyes land right on me.
“Hi,” she says. Guilt and ire war in her eyes, and I watch guilt win. This is interesting, she acted out like a child—and somehow managed to make it home, looking like she does, without ending up in a human jail. Then she holds her arm up, and I see the handcuffs dangling from her wrist.
“Did you have fun?” I ask, no longer angry, because after searching through her thoughts—I find myself somewhat amused. Iza exposed our existence to the world. I agree with her decision; hiding was a stupid endeavor, to begin with. Nonetheless—she felt the same way and rectified it. The reasoning of it’s rather solid. She’s preparing them for what is coming.
She then came all the way home, bloody, monstrous, and proud of it.
“A bit, well, up until the twentieth cop tried to arrest me. He sprayed me in the face with that awful shit and managed to get cuffs on me before I ripped his car door off. Which,” she takes a drink of water that a goblin hands to her, “I left cuffed to the door with those plastic things they carry. They’re much more effective than these metal things,” she says, holding her wrist up and shaking the broken cuffs. She takes another long swallow of water. “Thankfully, they have the instructions written on them, or I wouldn’t have been able to truss him up so effectively.”
The image of the human spread eagle on the car door flits through her head. It’s a small battle to keep the smile off my face. Once I start to study her, it’s less of a battle because the urge to smile fades away. Her skin is coated in flaky dried blood, with some patches of darker blood, which tells me it’s an injury she was given. The large shirt she’s wearing is stiff in places with it, a testament of how much blood her skin was coated in before she put it on. There are bits of guts and flesh in her hair and stuck to her in various places. She has on one shoe, a dirty, bloody pair of socks, and her underwear under the shirt.
