Revenge of the Fae

by Carly Fall

  Once inside, she stopped in the middle of the room, frantically checking her surroundings. In the dim moonlight filtering through the window panes above, she noticed shelves lined the walls, and she was able to make out objects that resembled paint cans lined up on a few of them.

  The air around her seemed to explode. With a scream, she turned to find McAllister staring at her, another energy ball forming between his hands.

  She hadn’t even had a chance to try and hide.

  Sticking a hand out in front of her, she magically shifted the shelving closest to him. Her plan had been to slam it on top of him, but she didn’t possess enough power. Instead, it scraped along the old, wooden floor chasing McAllister for a few feet and leaving a trail of dust in its wake.

  At least she’d bought herself some time. It seemed the detective couldn’t run and form his energy orbs at the same time.

  When it became apparent he could outrun her weapon, she focused on smaller things.

  McAllister stood under an old fluorescent light fixture. She concentrated on it, and slowly it came loose from the ceiling. It crashed to his left, the sound almost ear-shattering in the empty building. He cursed as he brought his arms up to cover his face, and she turned to escape, not bothering to wait to see if she’d done any damage.

  As Avery ran farther into the empty room, she noted a stairway around the corner to her right.

  If she went upstairs, he’d certainly follow, and she’d only get cornered. Yet, as another energy globe exploded over her head, she knew she didn’t have any choice. She had to put more distance between them. If one of those powerful balls connected, it could temporarily disable her, giving him plenty of time to capture her.

  Her feet practically flew up the stairs. Each time her boot connected, a puff of dust exploded around it. Before she got to the top, she began coughing, the grime clogging her throat with each inhale. Her eyes watered, but she frantically pressed on.

  When she reached the landing, Avery stepped to her left and took a second to look around, very aware of McAllister’s thundering footsteps climbing the stairs. More shelving littered with everything from paint cans to stacks of newspapers hugged the walls. She hid near the side of one where he couldn’t see her when he reached the top.

  When he did, she used her power to send a stack of newspapers toward him, just above his head. With a grunt, she focused on them coming apart, leaving him surrounded in a swirling storm of newspapers. She then pulled two paint cans from the shelf, and while still remaining hidden, sent them over to him where they slammed into his gut, yellow paint oozing down his legs.

  McAllister doubled over with a gasp, then a curse, and she continued to put more space between them. Maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to lose him if she kept moving.

  She found another flight of stairs and bounded up them. As she wiped sweat from her brow, she realized her worst fear had come true—she had cornered herself.

  Now what? Did she just wait and turn herself in? Between the anxiety and the dust, she couldn’t get enough air. How am I going to escape him when I ran into a room with nowhere else to go?

  The sound of McAllister’s footsteps on the stairs jarred her into action. She ran toward the door on the far side, hoping it would lead to the outside. Maybe there was a fire escape ladder or something she could use to get down to street level again. However, all the Fae would have to do was send one of those energy orbs raining down on her, and she’d splat onto the pavement. She had to take her chances. She wasn’t going to prison and didn’t want her life to end at McAllister’s hands.

  Avery jammed one shoulder against the door, and it opened. She stood on a small, flat rooftop. Based on the number of cigarette butts on the ground, she assumed this had been an allocated smoking area when the warehouse had been functioning as a business.

  Peering over the railing, she didn’t see a way down to the street, but when she turned around, she noticed a ladder leading farther up the building.

  As she glanced through the small window in the exit door, she saw McAllister had made it to this floor. His shoes and pants were covered in yellow. If he hadn’t been angry with her before, she imagined the paint had completed the job.

  She climbed the ladder up to the roof with nowhere left to go. No doors. Nothing but mechanical equipment here. She rushed to the edge of the level and realized she was now fully trapped.

  As Avery stared at the adjacent warehouse, an idea came to her. It wasn’t a smart idea, and she’d most likely end up maiming herself if she was lucky; if not, she’d be dead.

  “If he catches you, you’re already dead,” she muttered. She couldn’t imagine spending time in prison. Being penned up in a small cell with no sign of the outdoors was a fate worse than death. But if McAllister actually caught her, who knew what he’d do to her?

  “Avery!” his voice echoed from behind her. “It’s over! Quit running!”

  She turned to see him forming an energy ball.

  Since she’d started her quest to figure out who’d killed her mother, she’d had a lot of bad ideas and had made a slew of horrible decisions. A part of her just wanted it all to end, but a small voice inside insisted she keep going.

  Maybe it’s the crazy part of me.

  She sprinted toward the lip of the warehouse while keeping an eye on the roof of the other building.

  “Avery! Stop! You’ll kill yourself!”

  She pumped her arms and willed her legs to carry her faster. As she closed in on the edge, she realized she would never make the jump, yet she kept going.

  “Avery!”

  When her foot landed at the threshold, she pushed off with all her might. She windmilled her arms, hoping the action would somehow propel her closer to the other roof.

  For a few brief seconds, she took flight. Her world went utterly quiet as she soared through space. She didn’t dare glance down, instead concentrating on her destination. Memories of her mother and Victoria flashed before her eyes—good thoughts filled with smiles, laughter, and love. They played in her head like quick snapshots, just brief glimpses into a time when her life had been simple and happy. The visuals filled her soul with joy, and she once again wondered why she’d allowed herself to fall into this current situation.

  For a second, she thought she would make it to the other structure, but then quickly realized she wouldn’t. Her chest slammed into the side of the building, knocking the wind out of her. Excruciating pain radiated from her sternum and throughout her body as she gasped for breath.

  As she slid toward the ground, she grimaced and cried out in pain. Her forearms were torn up by something. Spikes in the concrete wall. She tried to catch her breath and cursed as she grabbed onto them. They dug into her hands as she held on for dear life. They bent under her weight while tears streaked her cheeks. Glancing down to the street, she imagined herself in a pile of mush when she hit the pavement. The investigators would need a pressure washer to clean up her remains.

  From above, someone grabbed her wrists and pulled. She stared in disbelief as two men hauled her up without much effort. She collapsed at their feet. The gratitude overwhelmed her. She rolled to all fours and curled into a ball as she tried to catch her breath and stop the tears. After a brief moment, she caught a glimpse of McAllister running for the staircase on the other building.

  She got to her knees and slowly stood, pulling up the sleeves of her sweatshirt to quickly assess the damage on her hands and arms.

  While meeting the gazes of her saviors, she realized she’d jumped from the proverbial pot into the fire.

  “She’s Fae,” one of the men whispered, his fangs gleaming in the moonlight.

  Honestly, can this get any worse?

  She pulled out the baggie of spices from her sweatshirt and threw what was left at them.

  They shrieked as their exposed skin bubbled, and she turned to run. Maybe she could beat McAllister down to street level and lose the vampires.

  This pair chased her, which was
the opposite effect the concoction had had on Everett. Since these two could move at fast speeds, they caught her in a second and tackled her to the ground.

  “Please!” she yelled. “Please don’t hurt me!”

  She curled her legs up into a fetal position as fangs sank into her forearms and a tongue lapped at the blood from the open wounds.

  Their weight pinned her, and after only a minute of struggle she didn’t fight anymore. She shut her eyes and tried to think of happier times. Avery didn’t know how long had passed, but all energy had completely dissipated from her body. Her chest hurt like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Her hands and arms had gone numb, yet the vampires continued to drain her blood.

  An excruciating booming sound literally vibrated the ground, then another. A gun. Someone had fired a gun. The weight of the vampires was lifted from her, and she opened her eyes. McAllister was stabbing the first vampire with a stick directly through the heart. Her attacker writhed on the ground for a moment, then went still. The second had been temporarily stunned by the bullet to his abdomen, but after making sure the first vamp was dead, McAllister finished him off, too.

  Silence blanketed them except for the pounding of her own heart and McAllister’s deep breathing. Avery tried to move but couldn’t. Without the much-needed sleep and food she’d deprived herself of, she had no resources to call up. Her limbs weighed heavy like concrete slabs.

  McAllister stood over her, his gun pointed at her face. In the moonlight, she noticed the sweat pouring from his brow, his mouth in a harsh, thin line. His nostrils flared as he breathed heavily. His eyes resembled two black pits in the nighttime shadows, making her think of the Grim Reaper.

  Avery stared up at the cop for a second and then shut her eyes. She didn’t want her last vision to be his face or his weapon. While struggling to bring up fond memories once again, she desperately wanted to go out with something resembling happiness in her heart.

  “This is the end of the road for you, Avery,” he said.

  14

  Death.

  Avery had never really given it much thought but assumed that when it came, she’d be transported to a thick, lush forest brimming with soaring trees, cute little creatures, and beautiful flowers. It would be a place where no danger existed, just happiness as she frolicked about playing with the bunnies and petting deer—like in a Cinderella movie. A place without conflict, where all creatures of the forest lived in harmony and peace.

  This wasn’t it. Nor was she dead.

  She’d woken not long ago to find herself on a bus, her hands and arms wrapped in bandages from the tips of her fingers up to her elbows, her wrists cuffed to a silver bar attached to the seat in front of her. The windows had been blacked out, so she had no idea where she was headed. Avery knew she’d been shoved in the seat next to a shifter before she gave the woman a glance. The musky smell of bobcat stung her nose.

  Even though she understood the bus was transporting them to prison, a sense of peace washed over her. She no longer had to fight for anything, and secrets that she so desperately wanted to know would now have to remain hidden. Completely physically and mentally exhausted, she laid her head back against the seat.

  “What did you do?” the woman next to her asked.

  Avery rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes, taking in the beautiful bobcat shifter. Golden hair hung around her face in a tangled mess, her green cat eyes staring expectantly. The woman ran her tongue over a full mouth, cheekbones not quite evident in her round face. Sinewy muscled arms showed from the black jumpsuit, identical to the one Avery donned. She couldn’t tell how tall the woman stood, but her overall appearance hinted movement with lethal grace.

  Considering Avery’s long list of offenses, she really didn’t have the energy to dive into her story. Instead, she remembered what had been written on the piece of paper she’d stolen from McAllister’s apartment.

  “I committed crimes against other paranormal entities.”

  The shifter rolled her eyes. “You? You certainly don’t seem very dangerous.”

  She stared out the window in response even though she couldn’t see anything. Avery had heard that a lot lately, especially from shifters. Just because she was small in stature and didn’t have claws or fangs didn’t mean she didn’t possess her own dangerous powers. However, the magic hadn’t been enough to help her escape McAllister.

  “Have you ever been in before?” the woman pressed.

  Avery shook her head.

  “Well, welcome to the jungle,” the shifter said with a sigh. “This is my third time.”

  Avery turned back to the woman, her curiosity now piqued. “What did you do?”

  A slow, feral smile spread across the woman’s face before meeting Avery’s gaze. “One of my favorite things is to terrorize humans. I shift into bobcat form and slink around through the city, making sure I’m seen. I love the look of fear on their faces when our eyes meet.”

  Avery furrowed her brow. It was an odd habit. “Do you ever attack anyone?”

  “Nope. I just like to scare them, but the ones in charge don’t like it. They say I’m a danger to humans finding out about the paranormal world existing around them.”

  “Why do you keep doing it if you end up in prison?”

  She shrugged. “Why do ghosts haunt people? Why do vampires feed in situations where they can get caught? It’s an adrenaline rush—the excitement of doing something I’m not supposed to and the thrill that I may or may not be caught.”

  Avery stared at the woman’s profile. She’d never been one to search for thrills or adrenaline rushes. Instead, she’d been fairly happy in her somewhat boring life. Of course, the shifters she’d worked with had kept her on her toes, but they were more of a nuisance than anything, except for Jake. Her body shuddered as she recalled the assault.

  Figuring she may as well get as much information about her destination as possible, she decided to get to know the woman and press her for details. If she had been jailed three times, Avery assumed the shifter had a wealth of knowledge of what to expect once they arrived.

  “My name’s Avery,” she said. “I’d offer my hand… but… you know.”

  The woman smiled. “Yes, we’re both in a bit of a bind, literally. I’m Catherine, but you can call me Cat.”

  Avery laughed, the lancing pain through her torso putting a quick end to it. She didn’t know if she’d broken a rib, or if she was simply badly bruised. Obviously, she’d received medical treatment somewhere along the way, but she’d been unconscious for all of it.

  Cat must have seen the pain on her face. “You’re pretty banged up, Avery. I hope whatever you got yourself into was worth it.”

  Had it been worth it? She hadn’t found her mother’s killer. She’d committed a lot of crimes and had almost died.

  “It probably wasn’t,” she replied. “Especially considering where we’re headed. Since you’ve been there so many times, can you tell me what to expect in prison?”

  Cat grinned again. “Mainly chaos. They do their best to keep the peace, but situations do get out of hand, so you need to watch your back.”

  Avery’s gut clenched with dread. She’d been watching her back so much this past week, she had kinks in her neck.

  She recalled what Everett the vampire had told her about the mixing of paranormal entities.

  “Don’t they keep everyone separated?” she asked, hoping the rumors she’d previously heard weren’t true. “Like vampires together, all the shifters, ghosts… Are we all kept with our own kind?”

  “No,” Cat said with a laugh. “There isn’t any room. It’s pretty overcrowded.”

  Avery tried to imagine the chaos. Bobcats battling wolves, wolves terrorizing Fae, vampires threatening everyone, Fae using their magic… it sounded like a paranormal nightmare.

  “The thing about Spectral is that no one can use their powers or gifts in there. When I walk in, this is the form I’ll be in for the remainder of my stay. I can
smell that you’re a Fae, but your abilities will be useless. Even the vampires won’t want to feed.”

  She’d never heard of such a thing. “How in the world does that happen? How can they assure that no one uses their powers?”

  “From what I understand, the building was constructed many years ago. When it became functional, they had problems with everyone being at each other’s throats. Then, the beings in charge decided to ask the old faeries, the ones who actually live in the forests, to use their magic and faery dust to make it impossible for the inmates to use their gifts. They readily agreed, so faery dust was drilled into the walls, and they cast magical spells on the building. The same was done to all the buses as well. Since then, no one has been able to shift, and magic can’t occur. It’s just a bunch of paranormals housed together, wishing they could use their powers.”

  Avery’s shoulders sagged, and she sighed as she envisioned the mess. She didn’t stand a chance, especially with her injuries.

  The expression of defeat must have shown on her face.

  “Don’t worry, Avery,” Cat said. “I’ve got your back.”

  She smiled at the woman. “Thanks.”

  At least someone did.

  “When we go in, they’ll line us up, then divide us into cells. Stand one person away from me, and we should be in the same one. The way they separate us isn’t very scientific. They usually just put every other one in the same place. After that, they divide us up once again, and take us to the cell we’ll call home for the next few months.”

  If McAllister didn’t give her any leeway, she doubted her stay would only last months… probably years, just as he’d promised. Her crimes seemed more severe than Cat’s, and all of them had been directed at a police officer. Yeah, she was in trouble.

  “Once you get the hang of things, it’s really not that bad,” Cat said. “You get three meals a day, a crappy mattress, two hours of outside time a day, and we can all agree that Judge Judy makes for some awesome television. Just do your time and keep your head down.”