“It’s a go, leaving out of the back exit. Please be ready for my signal,” I say, pushing my thoughts into my team’s heads. They confirm.
“Thank you so much for helping me. My name is Mellisa, by the way,” I say as we stride out into a back alley. I stumble a little; then I turn towards him with a small smile on my face. I hold my hand out for his phone. “So if I could just use your phone?”
He leans towards me and puts an arm above my head, resting it on the wall at my back. He looks down at me and flashes his teeth in a sinister smile. “Sure, beautiful. Gosh, you are a tiny little thing...so perfect.” He hands the phone over to me, and I take it. I try to keep my attention on him instead of the phone, but as soon as my hand grazes the handset, I lose focus.
“What the hell…” A spell comes over me, and I realise my touch on the handset activated it. It takes only a few seconds for my magic to burn through it. If I were human, as I’m pretending to be, I’d be in serious trouble.
But a few seconds is all the creep needs. He grabs me and steps us to somewhere else.
Oh shit.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Adrenalin rushes through my system, and my heart picks up its rhythm. Well fuck, that is interesting—a troll shouldn’t be able to step.
Stepping is like the gateways but without a portal. Powerful Fae can step; they usually have to be as old as shit. It’s like how you would imagine teleporting to be. We had been unaware of how he moved his victims—at least now we know. Creepy must be our guy.
I let Creepy think the spell is working. I slump against him, which is totally gross, but when you are playing the part of prey, you have to go with it. I am not surprised when we end up stepping into a basement.
Not knowing where I am is disconcerting. I hope I’m still in Ireland.
I keep my eyes down, feigning disorientation, and use my other senses. I can smell blood, vomit, and some seriously scary scents that I won’t put a name to, for my own sanity. I can hear crying and four other heartbeats. My tummy dips as I feel a monumental sense of relief that Creepy has bought me straight to the missing girls. Thank God.
Surreptitiously I roll my head back and to the side, throwing in a moan for good measure. My eyes dart about the room. Creepy has everything set up, a serial killer’s paradise: chains on the walls in various metals and half a dozen iron cages, the whole shebang. I hope this fucker doesn’t attempt to put me in a cage.
I will lose my shit if he does.
You know you're messed up in the head when you feel relief when the serial killer you’re hunting only handcuffs you to a wall. Attached to the wall, I sag in my chains, the substantial steel chains heavy and biting on my wrists. He leaves me, murmuring that he will play with me later when I wake up as I’ll be no fun if I don’t scream. Fucker. The door slams behind him.
I am so glad that playing human is working out for me this evening.
I stand straight and roll my shoulders to loosen my stiff muscles. I twist around in my chains as I take in the basement. One door in and out.
“Jenny, Sarah, Mary?” I say in a calm, gentle tone. The girl who’s crying stops. “I am sorry, I don’t know who the fourth girl is. My name is Forrest, and I’m a warrior with the Fae Court. I’m going to do everything in my power to get you all home. Can you tell me if that creepy bastard is working alone? Have you seen anyone else?”
The sobbing girl answers, surprising the hell out of me. Brave girl. “My name’s Sally. He took me this evening. I haven’t seen anyone else.”
“Okay, thank you, Sally.”
“He is working alone,” a quiet voice says; she’s in the cage in the corner. “I have been here for a while. It feels like forever. He rapes and k— he kills. I think he eats; I think he has been eating us. I am Mary…” She makes a heaving noise. When she gathers herself, she crawls to the front of her cage, a bitter smile on her cracked lips. “What are you going to do? Chained to the fecking wall! Who is going to rescue you? We needed a proper warrior, not some girl.” Mary bangs on her cage and whimpers as the iron burns her hand. “This is a bag of shite…ya rippin’ the piss,” Mary mumbles as she turns away, nursing her hand. The other two girls don’t respond.
I know from the files that he has had Mary who is Fae for around three weeks. I won’t take her words personally.
Mary won't be the last person to underestimate me, and she’s a scared kid. I’m kind of proud of her angry words—it gives me hope that she will have enough piss and vinegar to get through this experience.
I listen for any movement outside the room. Sweat drips down my back and makes the gold dress stick to me like a second skin. I cautiously send my flame into the handcuffs, delicately destroying the locking mechanism. I am convinced that all the girls are victims, and I feel the time is right to get this shit sorted. I desperately need to check on the two unresponsive girls. The cuffs rattle as they fall from my wrists and hit the wall.
“Mac, have you got a track on me?” I direct my thoughts, with no answer.
Well, shit.
I rub my wrists. Now comes the difficult decision on whether to unlock the girls who are awake, or leave them. If I undo them and they panic, it might be an issue, but if I leave them and I get taken out…fuck that. They need every opportunity to try and rescue themselves.
I undo Sally’s chains, whispering to her to keep still and silent until I tell everyone to move. I kneel in front of Mary’s cage door. The concrete digs into my knees and shins. My flame makes short work of the lock and the cage swings open.
I channel Owen, and some of the first words he said to me pop out of my mouth. “Mary, I can see that you are frightened and that you have been through Hell. I can also see the fire inside you. Keep using that fire—your anger. Don’t let it go inwards. What has happened to you is not your fault. The blame rests on him, not on you. Do not let him win and don’t let him take any more from you. Sometimes it’s better to bury the memories until you are strong enough to deal. It’s going to be hard, but you need to keep moving forward one step at a time. Do you understand?” Her eyes meet mine, and we take stock of each other. She nods. “I need you to trust me. Stay in this shitty cage for a while longer, just until I kick the sicko’s ass. If anything happens to me, I’m trusting you to grab Sally and run like hell. Got it?” I hold out my fist to the girl, who is still huddling at the back of the cage. I wait. Slowly she lifts her arm and bumps her fist to mine.
I miss my friend Owen; he’s always in my thoughts, like an emotional ghost. I regularly ask myself the question, “What would Owen do?”
I close the door and move on to the first unconscious girl. She’s naked, badly hurt, and is bleeding profusely. I stroke her dirty blonde hair away from her face. Her breathing is shallow and her heartbeat is weak. I remember her name from the files—it’s Jenny—and my heart aches for her. I slip my hand underneath my dress and dig about in my bra for the little tubes that hold condensed Fae tracking-magic and a sleeping draught. I need these girls to stay asleep; I can’t afford to add any more variables to this shit-show. I tip the plastic vials and let the magic seep into her chest; I then place my fingertips on her collarbone. My warrior mark starts to glow; the silver light bleeds through the fabric of my dress. Pulled directly from the Fae Court, the healing magic rushes into Jenny. I wait and listen. It isn’t long until I can hear that her breathing has become better and that her heartbeat has returned to a normal rhythm. The bleeding stops, and the wounds that I can see heal. I bow my head in relief.
We were all a little surprised when my warrior mark turned out to be defensive magic. The marks channel innate magic—healing, shields, wards, and a whole host of cool defensive stuff.
The last naked, unconscious girl is Sarah. The dark-haired girl has a nastily broken arm. I use the sleeping draught first, I pour the vial and wait for a few seconds, and then get myself into position. I brace myself. I cringe as I grip her wrist and shoulder. My warrior mark lights up again as I sharply pull th
e broken limb. It crunches, snapping back into place as it heals. I blow out a shaky breath—I will never get used to resetting bones. I’m glad she was asleep for that unpleasant job. Sarah’s face relaxes from a pained grimace into a peaceful expression.
I heal Sally and Mary; I also put a tracking potion on all of the girls, so if the worst happens and I can’t rescue them, a member of my team will still be able to track them—or at the very least, locate their bodies. I shudder and swallow the bile that’s doing its best to crawl up my throat. I close my eyes for a second. I take a breath. Rage, panic and determination fill my lungs in place of air. I need to save these girls. I can't fail.
I hustle back to the wall and get back into position, looping the broken handcuffs back around my wrists. As I wait, I analyse what has happened to these girls, and I can’t help thinking about my situation, my past. I have been running forever. I huff out a sigh and grind the back of my head into the wall. I’m happy to fight for others, but I have never once fought for myself. Never. I always run. I still love Aragon. My self-inflicted broken heart has never healed. I’ve just learned to live with the cracks.
The job I do is dangerous, and perhaps I need to meet my internal demons head-on once and for all. I can’t have my trauma define me; maybe it’s time to open and deal with my boxes? Deal with Daniel and tell Aragon how I feel.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
It isn’t long until Creepy arrives back. The basement stairs creek ominously with the troll’s footsteps the evil bastard slams the door open. It hits the wall and bounces closed. Sally and Mary both shudder. I stand against the wall and glare at him. I can’t have Creepy paying attention to the other girls; I need him to focus on me. I’m hoping my defiance will do the trick. Creepy smiles.
Showtime.
He flashes his pointed teeth. I tip my head to the side, wondering if I can knock a few of them out. He swaggers towards me, and I let him get close enough that I smell his rancid breath.
I keep my face carefully blank and my big gold eyes wide.
“Ahh, you’re awake—that’s good. I can’t wait to show you my—” Fuck this. I am not waiting for his villain speech or for the creepy fuck to grope me. I already think this whole assignment will give me nightmares without having to listen to him. I kick my leg out and aim for his knee. I put all my strength into the kick, and I hear and feel the knee crunch. His body goes one way, the leg the other; the shock on his face makes me smile.
I grab hold of the back of his head and smash his face into the basement wall. Once: “It’s not so lovely…” twice: “when your prey fights back…” three times: “creepy bastard.” I let go of his head. Wrinkle my nose and wipe my hand on my dress as he slumps to the floor.
Huh, that felt a bit anticlimactic.
I was expecting a bit more of a fight. Creepy is out for the count. I give him a kick in the ribs for good measure, urm, just to make sure he isn’t playing games. I’m slightly disappointed when he doesn’t make a sound. I grab some iron chains from the wall and cuff his hands behind his back. I grab some more and cuff his feet together. I hum as I loop the chains and attach both sets so that his hands are linked to his feet—he is like a Fae pretzel.
Dragging his body by his feet, I pull him towards a conveniently open iron cage. With a bit of huffing and kicking him, I manage to squish him into it. I lock and then chain the door. To make sure he can’t go anywhere, I place a ward on the cage with another handy bra-vial. Hopefully that will stop him from stepping himself anywhere. For my final touch, I send my flame out to surround the cage. The fire hits six feet in height, and I coax it into a dome. Overkill? Too damn right it is. This fucker isn’t going to be hurting any more girls, not on my watch. If it were up to me, I would have killed him. But I have to stick to the law; I can’t go around killing people, even if I want to. Looking at the frightened girls here, the smell of what he has done to them in my nose, I want to. God, how I want him to suffer.
I wipe my hands again on my dress; I don’t want any part of him on my skin.
“Okay, ladies, let's get out of here. I need your help in carrying Jenny and Sarah. If I carry one, will you be able to carry the other girl between you?” Mary bravely crawls out of her cage, and she raises her eyebrow at the flaming cage. I shrug and make a “meh” face.
Sally needs a little coaxing. I get them to hold the previously bleeding girl, who I think is Jenny, between them, while I pick up Sarah. I dig my shoulder into her stomach and lift her over my shoulder. Luckily Sarah is only a little taller than me, which makes it easier than, say, hefting a guy.
I open the basement door quietly. Creepy was so confident, he hadn’t even bothered to lock it behind him. I dance my magic onto my right palm, letting it grow more and more until I form a sword out of the flames. Holding onto Sarah’s thighs with my left hand, I make my way up the stairs, leading with my sword. I am not leaving these girls in that basement for one more second with their kidnapper. They follow me, doing an excellent job of keeping close and quiet.
As soon as we clear the basement staircase and enter the ground floor, something in my head pops. I can hear my team again, and more importantly, speak to them. “I have our big bad contained. I also have Mary, Jenny, Sarah, and Sally with me. I need clothing, healing, and urgent assistance.”
Everyone talks at once, making me wince. Madán gains control, and with a few gruff words, he has the rest of my team silenced. I grit my teeth, and my lips straighten into a firm line. Shit. It is always an issue when your big boss gets involved. The guys must have been shitting themselves when that nobhead creepy fucker stepped away with me.
As Madán talks, I quickly clear the ground floor of the house. As I am on my own and my priority is the girls in my care, I don’t bother checking the rest of the house. I won’t leave them, and I can’t smell or hear anyone else in the vicinity. I use another vial and set up a ward in the hallway by the front door. It’s a small area, with peeling flower wallpaper, and it should be easier to defend, much safer, than taking the girls outside.
I am still in Ireland, which is good to know—the cavalry is on its way. Madán steps through before the portal is in place, bringing Mac and a healer with him. He lets me know, using the mind link, so I can open the door to the house and allow them through the ward. I inform Mac that I haven’t checked the rest of the house, so he disappears to do a sweep, iron sword in hand.
I leave the healer to check on the girls. Madán gives me an assessing look, nods, and then pulls out his phone. He holds up his finger at me to let me know he will be only a minute. I can hear his side of the conversation, but he has a spell on his phone that stops creatures from listening to the caller, so I have no idea who he’s talking too. I presume that he might be speaking directly to one of the girls’ parents, or it could be about me.
“I have eyes on her now; she is okay. Looks to be completely unharmed. Yes, not a hair out of place. I will debrief you when I know more. Yes, well, it was something we couldn’t have anticipated. I do my best; you know I make every effort t— Yes, well, I will let you know more when I have the information. I care about her too. I will speak to you soon.” Madán ends the call and marches back to me.
The other warriors have arrived. “Forrest, will you take me to the creature you have apprehended, please?” I nod and take a final glance at the girls to double-check that they are okay. Healers now surround them.
I show Madán and my team to the basement, warning them that any mind links that they have will be blocked as we move down the stairs.
We go down.
Peter whistles at the room, which is now our grim crime scene...well, it will be once we have removed the creepy bad guy. Then the whole place will be magically processed.
They all stare at my fire dome. I shrug. I ask my flame to come back to me, and it quickly obeys, shrinking back until it’s a small flame. It dances across the room and comes to my outstretched palm happily. I close my fist around it, and it dissipates.
> They all look from the pretzel troll in the cage to me. I shrug again.
“How the fuck did you fit him in that cage?” Peter asks. I don’t even bother answering, With fucking difficulty. The creepy guy is awake, and he moans. I open the iron cage at Mac’s timely arrival, and he helps me to drag out the creepy pretzel. My fellow warriors are all Fae and avoid the iron cage like the plague.
Creepy moans again, so I kick him in the head. Mac lets out a chuckle, Madán tuts at me.
“What? We don’t want him stepping anywhere, and he looked like he was about to,” I say calmly, without any inflexion. We uncuff him and replace the cuffs with our own, and Mac slaps a plastic magic-voiding wristband on him. As soon as it snaps and wraps around his wrist, the magic activates.
We all watch as Creepy’s shape changes. Instead of a troll lying on the floor, he’s now a goblin. Huh, interesting. No wonder the takedown was so easy. I glance at Madán with eyebrows raised as if to say, are we done? He nods.
“Do you need any medical assistance, Forrest?” I shake my head no. “Let’s get you off home then—you have done enough for this evening.” Madán holds out his hand, indicating for me to go first back up the stairs. I wave a one-finger goodbye at the guys.
“Am I in trouble?” I say when we get outside. I breathe in the cold winter air, clearing my nose of the horrors of the basement. I start to shiver.
“No. Please debrief me. I am aware that everything that happened tonight was recorded. If you could tell me in your own words what happened, I will add your statement to the report.” Madán takes off his jacket and holds it out to me. With a smile and a thank you, I slip it on. It’s still warm from his body heat. I am relieved to hear that the magic cameras have been filming the whole evening and that they kept up with me, even when I’d been stepped away.
I yawn, rub my hand across my face, and explain what happened in detail.
Cursed Wolf: Urban Fantasy Shifter Stand-Alone (Creatures of the otherworld Book 1) Page 22
