Heir of the Fae

by Linsey Hall

  Man, we both had our messed-up pasts.

  I pulled into a parking space in the Historic District, a part of town that looked a lot like Darklane, except without the dark magic soot. The buildings were all ornate Victorian structures painted many different colors, with carved wood detailing and charming names over the shops, restaurants, and bars. It was late afternoon, so there weren’t many parking spots available, but I got lucky. I climbed out of the car, and Tarron followed.

  “This way.” I felt his gaze on my back as I strode toward the alley that led toward Grimrealm. As we approached, a miserable, prickling magic spiked my skin, and I got a nearly overwhelming urge to turn back.

  It’d work on anyone who didn’t know that they wanted to reach Grimrealm.

  “That’s some protective charm,” Tarron muttered.

  “Seriously.” I pushed through, entering a spotlessly clean alley. Unlike the other ones in this part of town—which was known for its great restaurants and bars—it didn’t reek of pee. None of the drunken partiers bothered to push through the protective charm.

  “It’s in here?” Tarron sounded skeptical as he took in the entirely empty alley with a brick wall at the end.

  “Just keep going.” I reached the dead-end and pressed my hand to the brick surface. It felt rough—like any normal brick. But I kept pushing, until my hand sank through the stone. It felt like pushing my way through viscous goo. I added my foot, pressing so hard that I it sank into the stone.

  Tarron joined me, and we forced our way through into an identical, perfectly clean alley.

  “Not what I was expecting,” Tarron said.

  “They’re serious about hiding.” I approached the far end of the narrow corridor, which was identical to the one we’d just walked through. When I reached it, I turned to look at Tarron, then pointed to the wall to my left. “Stand there, please.”

  He did, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting. In his dark cloak, with his midnight hair, he looked like some kind of warrior knight Fae. I hated to say that I liked the look.

  Annoyed with myself, I turned back to the wall and studied the bricks there, dredging up my memory of Aeri pressing them in a particular order. It took two tries, but I managed. I could feel it when it worked, magic popping on the air.

  I turned and looked at the patch of ground between me and Tarron. It opened up to reveal a pit, and dark magic billowed out, bringing with it the stench of rotten eggs and sewage.

  I walked toward it, then met Tarron’s eyes. “Here goes nothing.”

  I jumped into the hole, knowing he would follow. For a moment, wind tore at my hair and my stomach pitched. Then magic slowed my descent, and I landed in an underground tunnel with a pressed dirt floor. Green flame torches lined the walls all the way down. I stepped toward them, moving aside so Tarron wouldn’t land on me.

  He appeared next to me, in a fighting stance with eyes wary.

  Fortunately for us, there was no one here.

  Unfortunately, the magic that protected the tunnel had probably changed since last time I was here.

  I moved toward Tarron, holding up my hand so he wouldn’t walk any farther into the tunnel. “This leads to Grimrealm. It’s also one of the few places that we can use to transport out.”

  “It’s impossible to transport from within Grimrealm?”

  I nodded sharply. “It’s magically banned. There are only a few places within that will allow transporting to the outside world, and I don’t know where they are.”

  “So it’ll be a long run back here if we get in trouble.”

  “Exactly.” I pointed to the tunnel. “At the end of this is the main market and the rest of Grimrealm. There will be protections on it, though. Last time, it was icicles that shot from the walls. Before that, flames.”

  “Now?”

  “No idea.” I drew a dagger from the ether, along with a shield. “But I like to be prepared.”

  Tarron did the same, opting for a sword and shield.

  Good choice. I could handle long-range, he could deal with short. My skin chilled as I crept through the tunnel, waiting for the attack.

  When it came, it shot from the ground.

  “Look out!” I hissed.

  A root rose up and twisted around my ankle. I flinched, then reached down and swiped at it, severing the woody stalk so it fell away. Another stretched from the wall, headed for my arm. I lunged, but it was fast, wrapping around my bicep. My heart thundered. It squeezed tight, and I nearly dropped the dagger I clutched in that hand. I stashed my shield in the ether and grabbed the dagger with my free hand, then sawed at the root.

  Tarron wasn’t faring much better—roots had twined around his ankles and one arm.

  But instead of fighting them, he frowned with annoyance.

  I hacked at mine, demanding, “Why aren’t you doing anything?”

  “I am.”

  His magic began to glow around him, the green aura growing brighter. The sound of wind whistling through the trees grew, and I felt the caress of the ocean against my skin. The scent of an autumn day fought back the stench of the tunnel.

  As his magic flared, the roots weakened. They withered and fell away from my arms and legs. The stalks that had wrapped so tightly around me retreated into the earth. Then the same happened to him.

  Ah, of course.

  “Earth magic,” I said. “They didn't count on a Fae coming down here.”

  “They don’t count on many coming down here, it seems.”

  “No. Only the regulars.”

  With the vines retreated back into the earth, we were able to hurry through the tunnel toward the far end. The refreshing scent of Tarron’s magic faded, and the reek of dark magic surged in to fill its place. I breathed shallowly through my mouth, trying not to smell it.

  As we neared the end of the tunnel, I flicked up my hood and tried to ignore my racing heart.

  “Mari? Where are you?” Aeri’s voice filtered from my comms charm.

  Crap. I touched it to ignite the magic within. “I’m hunting a lead. Where are you?”

  “At the chasm, helping the Order of the Magica and the Council of Demon Slayers control the chasm. It’s growing.”

  I flinched. “How bad?”

  “More than halfway to the end of the street. A lot more.”

  She didn’t say that when it reached the end of the street, those buildings would fall in and Magic’s Bend would start to disappear. She didn’t need to.

  “The dark magic is growing as well,” she said. “The Council thinks that eventually, demons could pour out into Magic’s Bend.”

  “So it really is some kind of portal.”

  “Probably to the original demon’s underworld, yes. The one whose magic combined with yours to create the chasm.”

  Oh, fates. I’d screwed up so bad. “I’m on a lead. I can fix it, Aeri. I just need a little time.”

  “I’ll give you as long as I can. But where are you?”

  “Gotta go, sorry.” I cut communication.

  “You really didn’t know you were Unseelie Fae?” Tarron asked.

  I looked at him, shocked. “Now you want to talk about that?” I pointed to the end of the tunnel, which was only fifty feet away. “We’re almost there.”

  He shrugged. “It was something your sister said. About the chasm growing wider. It doesn’t make sense that you would intentionally harm your own town.”

  “Duh.” I glared at him. “It doesn’t make sense that I’d hurt yours either. Especially when I risked my life in those Trials in order to save it.”

  He nodded sharply. “I’m beginning to see that.”

  “Stubborn man.” I shook my head and approached the end of the tunnel, trying to ignore the slight flare of hope that he was beginning to believe me. I was still pissed he hadn’t believed me in the first place.

  It was logical to assume that pain and anger over his brother’s death had clouded his judgment, but it was still painful to be on the end of his mi
strust.

  Even if I sort of deserved it.

  He mistrusted me about the wrong things. But all the same, he was right not to trust me.

  And I hated it.

  Not important.

  Not right now. Not when I was walking into my past. Into the past that had hurt me so badly. There could be no soft spots on me right now. I would tell him the truth eventually, but now was not the time.

  I reached the end of the tunnel and paused, unable to help myself. The central market spread out before me, the same as it had ever been. This massive domed space deep beneath the earth was the heart of Grimrealm. Here, supernaturals traded in all sorts of dark magic, operating out of the black fabric tents that filled the space to bursting.

  Hundreds of people milled between the stalls, inspecting the wares. Everything from potions to shrunken heads and enchanted weapons filled the space. Seers and fortune tellers and mercenaries picked up clients here, along with other unsavory sorts that practiced magic I’d only ever heard of.

  And coming from me, that was saying something.

  “The magical government just lets this place exist?” Tarron asked. “It reeks of evil.”

  I nodded shortly. “My friend Claire is a mercenary for the Order of the Magica. Occasionally she works down here. Apparently, they think it’s better to have this place exist and use it to catch the baddest of the bad. I’m not sure they aren’t a little bit corrupt, though.”

  “My money’s on that option.”

  “Agreed.” I drew in a deep breath and reached for Tarron’s hand. “Come on.”

  5

  I gripped his strong palm in my smaller one and tugged him through the market. He hesitated briefly, as if surprised I’d touch him, but I just pulled harder. It was so crowded here that I didn’t want to get separated. Not to mention, some of these stall operators had magic that could compel you to stay and look at their stuff. I’d learned that last time I was here, and I didn’t want to fall prey to it.

  Tarron followed close behind me as we wove our way through the stalls of people shouting about their wares. At one point, a woman grabbed Tarron’s arm to stop him so he would look at her collection of dried, severed demon hands. I could feel her magic wafting toward him, trying to make him linger and buy one of her gross offerings.

  I tugged at him and glared at her. “Back off.”

  She raised her hands. “Okay, honey. I won’t mess with your man.”

  I scowled at her, then turned and continued through the market. At one point, a skinny demon grabbed my shoulder to convince me to peruse his collection of stolen charms—they had to be stolen; demons weren't great charm makers—and Tarron pulled me along.

  Finally, we made it through the market to the far end. Now that we were away from the influence of the stall owners, I dropped Tarron’s hand. Here at the edges of the market, the walls of the great domed space had been carved out to house the larger shops and casinos. This was where the real money was made, and the worst magic went down. Each place was guarded by a bruiser of a bouncer. All of them had magic, and I was glad I wasn’t trying to get past any of them.

  “Where are we headed?” Tarron asked.

  “The poorer neighborhoods are back here.” I pointed to one of the many tunnels that extended off the main part of the market. “Each tunnel is like a neighborhood, with apartments built into the stone walls. We lived down this one.”

  “Do you know if your aunt is still there?”

  “No idea. Probably.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Tension tightened my muscles as I headed toward the tunnel that had once been our street, stopping in front of the sign on the wall. Arition Street. I shivered and tucked myself into a dark corner, dredging up my courage.

  Tarron followed me into the shadows, his presence a comfort and a distraction. He stood so close that I could feel the heat of him, and I tried to focus on that instead of my fear.

  “I vowed never to come back here,” I muttered, pissed that I’d gotten myself into this situation.

  “You didn’t have to,” Tarron said.

  I shot him an annoyed look. “My alternative is letting my town fall into a pit of black magic, so yeah, I had to.”

  “You could have tried to master your Fae magic and never caused the problem in the first place.”

  “I did!” I seethed with annoyance, and I turned to look up at him. “I’ve tried to make those damned wings appear a hundred times. I spent all week trying. And the magic inside me? That’s a freaking mystery. I have no idea how to control that.”

  He frowned. “Really? None at all?”

  “No. It’s a magic that has existed inside me forever, apparently, but it’s been dormant. Going to the Unseelie realm to destroy the Obelisk woke it, but I have no experience with it. Honestly, I had no idea it was so dangerous.”

  He looked torn, his brow creased and his eyes dark. “I’ll help you.”

  “You’ll what?”

  “I’ll help you master your Fae magic. You have to go to the Unseelie Court to start the process of gaining control of it, but I’m certain that’s not all of it. You’ll have to practice. And I’ll help you.”

  “Why? I thought you hated me.” Despite the fact that I’m your fated mate.

  That was the part that burned the worst.

  “Hate you?” The words sounded torn from him. He gripped my shoulders, looming over me. “Never. No matter how much I might want to.”

  “You want to hate me?”

  “No.” Again, the words sounded torn from him. He was so close that I could feel the conflict inside him. Feel the struggle. “When I thought that you’d been part of the Unseelie Fae incursion that had led to my brother’s death, I wanted to. But I couldn’t.”

  “Because of the fated mate bond.”

  “Yes, because you’re my Mograh. And also because I’ve grown to know you better. I know you wouldn’t do that.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever trust you, but I could never hate you.” The tension around us tightened, cocooning us in a bubble, away from this horrible place. In the quiet shadows where we stood, his face was the only thing I could see. His green eyes were riveted to mine.

  He was probably only helping me so that he could get revenge for his brother. I couldn’t really believe that he had feelings for me. Especially since the fated mate bond was probably driving them.

  But I couldn’t help how I felt. I wanted him. The lack of control drove me crazy. Scared me, even. Because one day he’d find out about my mother, and he’d know he was right not to trust me.

  He wouldn’t care that I’d done it for Magic’s Bend.

  But there was no fighting it. Not now. He pulled me toward him, his gaze dropping to my lips. My heart raced, and I lifted my hands toward his waist.

  Kiss me.

  Then he shuddered. “No. We’re in Grimrealm.”

  He released me and pulled back.

  The tension was broken.

  Cold air rushed over me.

  He was right.

  Somehow, he’d made me forget this place.

  That could get me killed.

  I sucked in a deep breath and turned from him, giving him one last glance. Whatever was between us wasn't withering away.

  Far from it.

  Despite the mistrust and circumstances, it was still growing.

  But now was definitely not the time.

  I started down the narrow tunnel. I hadn’t been to this place in years, and it looked different. Not smaller, but quieter. Almost dead. Doors dotted the tunnel every thirty feet. Most were shut, but no light shined through the gap at the bottom. A few hung open, silent and empty.

  I shivered.

  “This place feels abandoned,” Tarron said.

  “Maybe it is.” What if Aunt wasn’t here?

  No.

  As much as I didn’t want to see her, I had to.

  I’d find her.

  We neared the end, wh
ere our apartment had been located. Not that Aeri and I had ever really lived in the main house.

  My skin turned to ice as I approached the closed door. Not only was it silent, it felt silent. Dead.

  I didn’t bother to knock, and I didn’t hesitate. I just reached for the knob and turned.

  It opened easily. “Huh. I’d been prepared to kick it down.”

  “I think you wanted to kick it down.”

  “Kinda did.” I peered into the darkened interior, heart thundering.

  Was Aunt waiting? Lurking?

  Where was Uncle?

  But no one was there. The place was totally empty. The big main room that housed the kitchen and the living room was nearly stripped of furniture. Dust gathered in the corners, and the air smelled stale.

  I charged in, striding toward the back hall where Aunt and Uncle’s bedroom had been located.

  There was nothing.

  Not even a bed or nightstand.

  I frowned, cold dread slicking my skin.

  As I checked the other three empty rooms, it only grew worse.

  “They aren’t here.”

  “What about this trapdoor?” Tarron pointed to the wooden door in the floor that I had avoided looking at when I’d walked into the small room.

  “They wouldn't be down there.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I snapped. “Because that’s where they kept us.”

  His eyes darkened as understanding dawned.

  Shit.

  I shouldn’t have said anything. Shouldn’t have mentioned it.

  “They kept you in the dungeon?”

  “Why do you think I didn’t want to come here?”

  “Why did they keep you there?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I do.”

  “Too bad.”

  He frowned, but took the hint and didn’t ask any more. Instead, he turned to the trapdoor and opened it.

  I reached out my hand to stop him, but bit back the word, “Don’t!”

  I couldn't wimp out here. No matter how much I didn’t want to go back to that place.

  What if there was a clue about Aunt down there?