Facets of Feyrie Box Set, page 72
part #1 of Facets of Feyrie Series
The first house we reach is outside of the small town up ahead. On silent feet, I creep around it to look in the windows. The first thing I see is a baby bed, the second thing I see is a dead woman on the floor. Blood has turned this place of joy and love into a horror movie of painted teddy bears. Grabbing the window seal and digging my claws in, I pull myself up enough to look inside the baby bed.
It’s empty.
Dropping to the ground, a sixth sense makes me look down at the basement window at my feet. A youthful face peeks out of me, that of a teenage girl and in her arms is a baby, one that’s very much alive. With my finger to my lips for her to keep her silence, I point at the back door. A few minutes later I hear the creak of it opening, and I pull her around the side of the house.
The sleeping face of the baby eases some of the tension.
“Go that way, straight that way. There will be a group of people standing there, tell them Iza sent you. Okay?” She nods and with a few furtive glances around her, runs.
“How did she know to trust you?” Michael whispers.
“For some reason, human children always do.”
“I can see it,” he says with a nod.
Deciding not to comment, I’m not sure what to say anyway, I head to the next house. The occupants of it aren’t so lucky. Every window gives me a view of a dead body. A half-naked human woman demonstrates that the Schoth aren’t only murdering them. As we move unerringly towards the center of town, I check every single house. A few have survivors that I quietly send into the arms of my people waiting outside. Most don’t.
The children weren’t spared, either.
Hardening my resolve, I decide killing a few here isn’t enough. Oh, no. I’m going to kill as many as I can.
* * *
There weren’t many Schoth or their Fey kin that could put up much of a fight. Not only were they gluttoning themselves on their human victims, but they’re also drinking highly potent ale. This works out for me, but I’m a little disappointed.
Looking over my shoulder at Michael, I ask, “You hungry?”
Jumping from my hiding spot, I land on the chest of one of the Schoth scouts lounging on the hood of a car. The impact crushes his breastbone and stuns him enough for me to slice him from groin to belly button. With a little stomp, his guts pop out and ooze down his hip.
Now, that’s fun.
Michael’s eyes glow, so blue they’re almost white, and his other face shows itself. He’s on someone before they can do more than yell out in surprise. Good, purge the rage. The few humans that are coherent enough to run in the direction I tell them to, do so with scars that will forever be on their bodies and soul. The ones who are too injured or traumatized to do more than sit there screaming, I leave for now. This won’t be a camp for Schoth anymore when I get done with it, and someone can come in and help them in a way I can’t.
Taking part of the Sidhe inside of me gives me resistance to Light Magiks that I didn’t have before. It still hurts but doesn’t weaken me as severely as before. The small freedom is exhilarating.
Hours pass, hours of blood and pain-filled screams, and the useless begging of the dying Schoth. Until there’s none left to kill, standing on top of a pile of bodies, I look around at the destruction, not all of it caused by me. Casually discarded corpses of humans who didn’t survive the invasion of these parasites are everywhere.
My adrenaline high wavers. Some are so young that I have to look away from them. The shield around us flickers and goes out, which means Auryn and Licar found the source of it. When the steady thwump thwump of a helicopter approaching reaches my ears, I know it’s time for us to take our leave. Humans can come in and deal with this.
Jumping off the bodies, I start walking in the general direction of the car. When the others join me, I remain silent, but I do look at each of them to assure myself of their welfare.
Michael’s face is covered in blood and gore. He fed well. His injuries are minimal, and he’ll heal overnight. Auryn is splattered with blood, but I see no evidence of injuries to her. Licar is spotless except for his hands and mouth. I look down at myself. I’m covered in all sorts of gunk.
Today was very cathartic, and that morbidly makes me want to have a chuckle about it. Do I feel better? No, not really. Did it feel nice to kill them? Oh yes. Perhaps I’ll share my philosophy that killing makes you feel better with the others, because whoever said vengeance wasn’t sweet, never tried it.
Now I need to visit the rest of these places—this way I’ll get all their attention.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jameson
Michael spoke to me about their trip to the Schoth base. He spoke of how wonderful it felt to finally get a taste of dealing justice for all the wrongs committed by them. He told me how Iza was spinning like a deadly tornado and killed with a smile on her face, laughing and dancing like it was a party instead of a fight. He is in complete awe of her, and it concerns me.
Not that they killed people, but that Iza isn’t Iza. She’s quiet and withdrawn; she rarely speaks to anyone. When she smiles, it’s so cold that it makes you need to stand next to a heater. Phobe’s death has turned her into a stranger, and I’m not the only one who noticed. They all have.
I can’t remember the last time she asked for a pie.
She’s out at the lake again, and I don’t plan to bother her, no one is. Instead, I’m sitting in the dining room listening to a few of the Feyrie having a ‘secret’ meeting about the condition of their fearless leader. For some reason, they haven’t noticed me sitting on the fringes of the room, listening.
There aren’t many familiar faces in the gathering, Auryn and the other Nightmares are out doing other things. Arista and the ones who run in her circle are in their wing of the Sidhe doing whatever it is they do. These are mostly new people, ones who tend to complain a lot.
Most of them are on Iza’s secret shit list. For some unknown reason people think she doesn’t pay attention to anything, they forgot to read their history, our history. The more they talk, the angrier I get, the idiocy leaving their mouths is infuriating. How dare they do this!
“She allowed the girl to live after she helped murder people. Face it, Iza is useless now. We need to do something about it.” I can’t remember the man’s name, he’s relatively new and a shifter.
Preparing to stand, I open my mouth to tell them exactly how I feel. A firm hand on my shoulder stops both actions. Startled, I look up and find Iza, with her solid black eyes on the gathering of people. The shit has now officially hit the fan or will when they notice she’s here. Going by her relaxed stance, it’s one of those situations where you give someone enough rope to hang themselves. Except, in this case, she’ll hang them with it.
“Who are you suggesting, Gary? I don’t think any of us are capable of doing what needs to be done.” Someone says from the crowd.
“There are plenty of viable candidates that have political experience,” Gary says.
“And you think she’s going to hand you the keys and walk away?” one of the male dragons, one that came while I was gone, asks and smirks at Gary.
“She doesn’t know what planet she’s on, let alone who’s leading the Feyrie,” Gary argues.
“Are there going to be donuts and coffee at this meeting?” Iza calls out, walking towards Gary, who now looks like he wants to disappear into the floor. As she walks by the dragon who spoke up, she smacks him in the back of the head, hard.
“Iza, we uh—didn’t know you were here,” Gary says, coughing a little when he chokes on his spit.
“Yeah, I see that. So, here’s the deal,” she turns to face the group. “If you agree with douchebag here, you can leave. I’m done defending myself or my decisions. At this point, if you’re unhappy, go out there and die, because I won’t save you.” She points towards the door and then crosses her arms to wait.
People shuffle around in their seats, but no one moves, except Gary. When he realizes no one is following him, he stops and then drops into a chair looking like a child that’s been scolded.
Iza scoffs, “You should all be ashamed of yourselves right now. You come here, you eat for free, you live in luxury, and when one thing doesn’t go your way, or I make a decision you don’t like, you want to mutiny? That’s not even a thing. I’m not Captain Ahab. I will slit your fucking throat for betraying me, do you understand?” She says it in such a pleasant tone that I don’t think most of them realize how serious she is.
Gary does, his face is white as a sheet.
Iza is tired of people backstabbing her, and I can’t blame her. Look at what she’s given up helping the Feyrie, what she’s lost, what she went through to be strong enough to be here. Gods, we’re a bunch of ungrateful assholes.
“You’re not going to let them get off so easily, are you, Iza?” The words pop out of my mouth, and when she smiles that scary smile, for the very first time—I smile back at her. Turning she snaps Gary’s neck without batting an eye.
“I don’t care about what the rest of you do, but the Sidhe does.” The room around us rumbles. “I’ll leave you all to it, good luck,” she says in a singsong voice. As she walks by me, she grabs my arm and drags me from the room. The door slams shut behind us, and then the screams start.
The question almost leaves my mouth, but I stop it. Opening that can of worms might end up with me in that room, too. Admittedly, being dragged through the Sidhe by a woman who weighs eighty pounds less than me and is probably close to a foot shorter, is a bit emasculating. When she tosses me onto a couch, without breaking stride and goes out the front door, it’s a bit worse.
Still not opening my mouth.
“Wow, she tosses you around like a ball. Doesn’t it piss you off?” Ruthie snots off from the cage.
“Nope, but you running your mouth does. If you had any sense, you’d start wising up and be thankful you’re still alive.”
“I told you she won’t kill me.”
Looking up at her and seeing the gloating face from between the bars makes me blurt out the truth, at least what I’m guessing Iza is doing.
“She’s keeping you alive for a reason, and once you’ve served that purpose...” I make noise deep in my throat and run my finger across it. The warmth of satisfaction in my stomach when the color leeches from her face is worth it.
Dusting at the muddy handprint on my sleeve, ineffectually, I sigh. There are holes in the material, too, from her claws. I think I need to rethink my wardrobe choices, especially after I start weapons training. Something that no one thinks I can do. I’m going to prove them wrong.
“You’re still as superficial as you ever were. I see how you’re looking at your clothes.” I look up at Ruthie again and smile.
“Yes, yes I am, but I’m not the one in a cage.” Looking down at my watch, my smile gets bigger. “Oh, it’s that time of day again.” Right on time, the door opens and the Nightmares file in, each bearing a handful of small pebbles. There are times that karma comes and bites you in the ass. I realized it the day they cut my finger off.
A glance down at the nub flashes a memory through my mind. Gritting my teeth, I force it away and focus on the TV while Ruthie yells in the background.
Yeah, karma comes for all of us, but I still feel like I got off easy. And every single time I look at Iza, knowing that her soul is gone, a little part of me hopes she’ll kill me. The guilt that wrenches my stomach like I’m on a boat and seasick, and almost brings me to tears, would go away then.
Chapter Twenty-Five
A mutiny, what kind of idiots plan a rebellion in a house? I’m starting to think these earthbound Feyrie aren’t worth saving, then I think of Knox. Well, some of them are. The Sidhe is dealing with the current pains in the ass. A fact that I find very amusing. The Sidhe doesn’t step in often. Typically it lets me deal with the issues. It shows its displeasure, like when it took all of Jameson’s furniture away, but it doesn’t outright punish like it is right now.
By the volume of their screams, that I can hear even at this distance, they act like they’re being tortured to death. The wusses, that’s not the case at all. A scream hits a high note and sounds outright nasty, well, maybe there’s a little torture going on. The Sidhe is in their heads, giving them visions of their worst fears. Some of which is rather unwise. The Sidhe is letting me eavesdrop into their minds. Whose worst fear is to be covered in peanut butter and licked by small fluffy dogs? Oh, wait, it’s Fred’s worst fear. I wonder if his mother ever shut his head in a door as a baby, slammed it a time or two on top of it. It would explain that fear, and maybe some of his other peculiarities. He shaves his toe hair, ONLY his toe hair. Not his face, or legs, or even his man bits. He’s obsessive about it, has sexual fantasies about shaving other people’s toe hair.
The Sidhe is singing the songs of laughter. The task amuses it and my thoughts. It is shining its bright light on the pieces of my fractured soul. Sighing, I lean my back against the rough bark of the tree and ignore the wetness from the melting snow under me. Bending my legs, I rest my elbows on my knees.
They’re not wrong, I have kept to myself and away from most of them. Looking at Ruthie reminds me of everything I’ve lost. Looking at the ones who want to ‘mutiny,’ makes me angry about the losses.
The Sidhe warns me right before I feel the familiar, warm, and completely unexpected presence. “Ah, dove. I’m so sorry,” my Dad says in a tired voice. I’m on my feet and running to him before I can think about it. He grabs me out of the air and the smell of cold and dark jerks at that door everything is hiding behind.
“You got out.”
“Yes, I think someone helped me. I’m not sure who. The shield disappeared, and I came here the second I realized it.” He squeezes me in a hard hug as he talks. I’m not in a hurry to let go, either.
“They took him from me, Dad.” The giant sob burns my throat and takes away any will to speak. Dad rocks me and murmurs as he rubs my hair and lets me cry it all out. When the sobs space out and become only those hiccupy things, and the faucet of tears has finally turned off, my dad sets me away from him. With gentle hands, he lifts my chin to meet my eyes.
“Now, what else has been going on?” I look into his beloved face, the one I needed to see and thought I wouldn’t be able to. The dark circles under his eyes are new, and there are some scars on his face now, small ones, but the soft look in his eyes, the love shining so brightly there gives me much needed strength.
So, I tell him all of it.
* * *
“The father in me wants to tell you that it gets better, that the pain eases with time and you can find that kind of happiness again. I don’t want to give you platitudes, Iza. Neither one of us accepts them.” He pats my leg as he says this.
Somehow, he ended up on the ground with me, sitting in the snow and mud, talking. Since being reunited, we’ve always had talks, but this one was a whole new level and shows me exactly how much our relationship has grown. Up until now, I didn’t realize how much I need him in my life.
“What are you planning on doing?” he asks, after both of us quietly contemplated the lake for a little while.
“I’m going to kill them.”
“I assumed as much. What’s your plan to do that, exactly?” I toss a handful of snow at him.
“First, I’m going to start taking out their outposts here.” He nods along with me as I talk. “Then I’m going to get strong enough to get that fucking necklace off of the Guide so that I can smash him into little bitty pieces.”
“And what about his master?”
Meeting his eyes, I shrug and say, “All I can do is fight until I can’t anymore, Dad.”
“I don’t want to see this kill you, dove. If they can hurt Phobe…”
“It’s okay, I know that I’m not at that level, but giving up isn’t part of my nature. Since I got half of it from you, it’s your fault.” He smiles and pats my leg again.
His face grows serious. “Tell me what Phobe said to Light again?”
Staring at the ground, drawing circles in the snow, I swallow the lump in my throat. Verbatim, I repeat the words that pull at my heart. He nods in acceptance and turns to look back at the lake. “And you saw the One-God there?”
“Yes. I have no idea what he was doing, but it pisses me off he didn’t try to help. He stood there and let him die.”
I feel his mood turn more somber. “Are you going to execute her?” The seriousness of his tone makes me look at him.
“What would you do?”
“Betrayal cost you and me both your mother, and it also cost you Phobe. How many other lives have her selfishness cost or will?” Logic, I hate logic at times like this.
“What if I’m not sure I can do it?”
“There’s no shame in that, Iza. You love her. She’s family to you.” He pauses and grasps both of my shoulders. “Remember your mother’s soft heart, Iza.”
Her soft heart and what it cost her, is what he means. My mom refused to believe that Kael would betray her, which he did many times, and ultimately murdered her. I can’t lie to myself, though. I don’t want to kill her. Killing her will take away something vital inside of me. Inspiration hits me, a way to have justice dealt, pacify the Feyrie, and not have to sell the last of my soul.
“I’ll put her to trial. The Feyrie can decide.” Then she can have her day in court that she keeps yelling about. They can decide her fate and deal with the consequences of it since they’re so keen on doing it.
“If it were anyone besides one of your kids, you’d kill them yourself.” He’s not wrong, so I say nothing. “I think that given the circumstances, you’re making the right decision.” He gives me one of those one-arm hugs that dads are famous for and then climbs to his feet. “Will you be okay?” he asks me softly, holding his hand out to pull me to my feet. I shake my head at his hand and shrug.
