Remnants of Ash (Reign of Fae Book 1)

by CK Dawn

  Bram looked up at her then with renewed interest.

  “And I know where it is.”

  Chloe walked out of the bathroom in just her bra, black pants, and a black trench coat as Bram had instructed. She didn’t know exactly what he had planned, but she had a pretty good idea. “There’s no way I can pass for a higher-caste fae, let alone a royal.”

  “Would you relax?” Bram had changed into a black leather blazer, that in the flicker of the candlelight, flashed undertones of a deep red. For some reason it suited him, and he wore it as though it were a second skin.

  “Oh,” Chloe blurted out, finally taking a good look at him. He was clean-shaven for the first time since she’d known him. Bram had always been handsome, but until Chloe saw his entire hairless face, she’d never known how angelic he looked, how fae he looked. His overgrown wavy black hair was now transformed into a very short military cut with a blood-red tint to it. It suited him somehow, like he wasn’t hiding behind an unkempt bush anymore. But what had startled Chloe the most were Bram’s pointed ears.

  “What?” He frowned.

  “You look like one of them. I mean; you could pass for one of the royals.”

  “You think so, huh?”

  Chloe couldn’t help it; she reached out to touch the tip of one of his ears.

  “At least buy me a drink first.”

  “Oh, uh sorry,” Chloe stuttered. “Are they real?”

  “What do you think?” Bram said, evading her question. He put knightly armor tips on his ears similar to the ones worn on Famke’s jeweled ears.

  “Let me guess...some type of weapon. Am I right?” Chloe asked, pointing at the tips.

  “It’s like you know me or something,” he teased.

  “I’m starting to.”

  Bram smiled at that. He slipped the ruby pendant she had worn earlier in the cubby over Chloe’s head. She thought it would have chilled her skin, but it didn’t. It was warm. Bram raised one hand over her head, and in a slow motion, started to trace the air around her, stopping to ask, “Ready?”

  Chloe nodded her consent. “You aren’t going to pass out on me again are you?”

  “From this? No.” He smiled again. “This is like breathing.”

  “Will it hurt?” She started to get nervous.

  “You won’t feel a thing,” he reassured her. “And speaking of ouchies, might as well start with this gash on your noggin. Most higher-caste fae don’t bleed so easily.”

  Chloe teased, “Could you conjure up some coffee while you’re at it, then, for this poor little ol’ mortal? A girl needs her caffeine.”

  “I could, but I won’t.”

  Chloe gave him a playful frown and sighed. “But my ouchie?”

  Bram couldn’t help but chuckle. “There’s ground coffee, creamer, and a French press in the cabinet. Didn’t you find them?”

  She let out a defeated, “No!”

  “Pity. Cold-brewed coffee is the best.” He tormented her as he continued tracing his hands in the air in front of her, as if he were caressing her aura.

  “Aren’t we afraid the scabs outside will be drawn to your use of magic?”

  “From this, it’s unlikely.” He smiled again. “But I put temporary wards up while you were changing. Just in case.”

  “Oh.” She started to feel a little self-conscious of the way his hands were mimicking the curves of her body.

  “There,” he said as he finished. “Have a look.” Bram’s voice had changed slightly, and he seemed to be avoiding looking at her.

  Chloe went to his bedroom mirror and gasped. “I look like...”

  “Famke,” he agreed, finishing her sentence with a sadness to his voice Chloe hadn’t expected.

  Chloe was fascinated by the reflection looking back at her. She moved her skin around her cheeks to the left and right. She didn’t feel any different, but her skin’s texture was visually different, nearly poreless. Her hand travelled to where her head gash had been. “Ouch. Nope, still there.” She felt like a flawless golden doll, but one with a gothic, sinister attitude.

  She turned her head to the side and admired her pointed ears, already adorned by metal tips of her own. “My gosh, they feel so real. This is a glamour, right? Will it wear off?” She pulled her now-raven-black hair from its messy bun and let it flow down her back. Its blue highlights shimmered in the candlelight. Even from what little Chloe had seen of Famke, she knew Bram had copied her image perfectly. From the slight lift at the tip of her nose to the arch in her brows, Chloe had become Famke of the Dark Fae. She wondered how Bram had gotten the glamour so perfect. Did all glamours work that way?

  “Gods, you look just like her.”

  Chloe looked at Bram just then. The sorrow on his face was heartbreaking. “You know her.” She fought for breath.

  His long pause hung in the air, thick and sorrowful. “A long time ago, maybe.”

  Bram started sorting through weapons, possibly, in the hopes of avoiding talking about his past. “People change, Chloe. Even fae.” Bram handed her the polished silver stake, now sheathed in a black-leather holster. “This is a trench spike. Well, a fae version anyway. You’ll want to carry it and everything else you need in different strategic locations –not all in one place like in your backpack. Someone takes that, and then what? You’re left defenseless. This way, you’ll always have a weapon on you.” He showed her how to tie the spike into the trench coat sash at her bellybutton and demonstrated how to grab it quickly and stab all in one motion.

  Chloe mirrored his moves, slipping her fingers into the brass knuckles of the spike, releasing it from its holster, and aiming the tip at Bram’s heart.

  He reached down to take her other hand, and had her grip the top of the pommel. This put extra force against his chest, turning the weapon from a pointed tool into a jackhammer.

  “In a pinch, any sharp object may do the job if you’re strong enough. But this one’s special, elegant in its sleek beauty and simplicity of design.” Bram talked about his favored weapon like some men talked about cars. Chloe wondered how many times he had used it. “The iron core weakens your target while the silver makes it easier to cut through their skin and bone. One fluid move with all your might. The scabs have a thick chest plate of bone protecting their heart. It’s one of only two vulnerabilities they have. You’ll hear the bone crack. That’s how you’ll know you made it through. Keep pushing all the way to their heart. You reach that, and they’re dead.” He pushed the stake harder against his flesh, testing her response as it threatened to pierce his skin.

  She gasped and looked into his eyes. Her gut instinct was telling her to let go. She didn’t want to hurt Bram. But she didn’t let go. She held her ground. Their survival depended on her being able to defend herself. And for all she knew, Bram was immortal and couldn’t be killed.

  “Don’t hesitate. Got it?” He seemed worried about their quest.

  “Got it.” She looked up at him and tried to sound confident. “And will it work on the royals?”

  Bram looked her straight in the eyes, and for the briefest moment, he gave her a cold hard stare she imagined rivaled any glare from Zeus or Ares who had dared been questioned by a lowly mortal. “No.”

  Chloe decided to let her burning questions about Famke and the others go and gave Bram a reprieve, for the moment. The brief glimpse into whatever type of fae Bram was had proved quite intimidating. She didn’t want to wake the beast lurking just below Bram’s outer shell. “So, this glamour, will it hold?”

  Bram shrugged, almost happy that the subject of Famke and the royals was being dropped. The way he switched from Godlike back to normal was eerie. “I’ve never really created a glamour for a human before, not like this. I have no idea if it will hold.” He held up several long, delicate chains made of metal. “Hence the reason for all the weapons. These are faerie whips,” he said, wrapping one loosely around her wrist.

  “They’re so delicate. What can they do?”

  “Strike at yo
ur target, just like it’s a leather whip. Let the iron connect with the scab’s flesh, and then pull. Who knows? You may get lucky and even decapitate one of them. That’s their second vulnerability.”

  “Aw, just the bling every girl needs in the apocalypse. You shouldn’t have.” Chloe had to joke or she’d probably vomit. She was a research student, not a warrior princess. She was fairly certain Professor Hadley hadn’t shared his theory about what he predicted was coming and the fae’s involvement with many students. So, if she didn’t try to save the world, who would? “Hand me another?” She asked, holding out her hand.

  Bram smiled. During his silence after her quip, he had, most likely, been giving her time to mentally wrangle with the severity of what they were about to take on. “This was your idea.”

  “Don’t remind me. And don’t think you’re getting out of it either.” She wound the other faerie whip around her wrist above the first one and hid both underneath her sleeve. “We’re doing this,” she said, trying to convince herself.

  “We’re doing this.” He nodded and smiled.

  The plan was to get to Coleman Dock and find a seaworthy boat able to make it to Bremerton, somehow. Professor Hadley’s getaway cottage was there along with his journal. Chloe nodded back and tried to breathe. “Next?”

  He smiled again, apparently admiring her determination and resilience. “This pendant is your lifeline. With it, you won’t even need these weapons. All the castes out there will read you as a royal. Don’t take it off, and by the Gods, please, don’t lose it. If you do, we’re probably dead.”

  “What about you?”

  “Well, I’ll be your guard, for one…” Bram’s sentence dropped off like he had more to say. If the theories Chloe had read were correct, the fae couldn’t lie, at least not directly. But Bram was definitely holding something back. The more she learned about the real Bram Tice, the more she suspected he was holding back a lot of things.

  “All these weapons you’re loading me up with. You sure I’m not your bodyguard?”

  “Ha!” He laughed. “Oh, one more thing.” Bram’s hand hovered in the air in front of the ruby pendant.

  Chloe looked down and watched feathery wisps of magic radiate out from Bram’s palm. Through the swirls of amber light, Chloe could actually make out glowing circular patterns and ancient symbols as they spun, floating through the air, towards her. As the swirls of amber light touched the pendant, the ruby resting against her chest turned into a deep black stone, to match Famke’s.

  Bram lowered his head.

  “I’ll take care of it,” she promised.

  He nodded.

  Chloe wondered how long he’d been in possession of a royal’s pendant, ten years, a hundred years, maybe more? And how he had obtained it? She also wondered who the royal was to whom it had belonged. That makes four. She made a mental note. Two Light, and two Dark? she wondered. It would make sense. More importantly, if a fae royal could be relieved of their pendant, that made them vulnerable, and if they were vulnerable, maybe they could be killed.

  Bram kept his head down, looking at her bare feet as he loaded her up with a few more silver daggers, although they weren’t as elegant as the brass knuckle design tied into her jacket’s belt. “You need shoes. What size do you wear?”

  Chloe was caught off guard by his random question. She thought back to the extreme shoes Famke and Avery had on. “I’m not wearing sky-high heels all the way to Coleman Dock. There’s no way. I can’t. I will fall and die.”

  Bram looked at her shoes sitting by the bathroom door. “Well, your neon running shoes aren’t going to cut it. They’d definitely look suspicious and would probably give us away.”

  Chloe tightened the belt of her trench coat in thanks for it being real. “Can’t you just glamour heels over my shoes or something?”

  Bram shook his head. “Can’t take the risk of conjuring any and having them disappear. And I’d have to ward the apartment again as a precaution. Those were just temporary wards, and they’ve already faded. I’m not wasting more ingredients just for shoes. No. My neighbor will have what we need, and if she’s still alive, I need to say goodbye.”

  4

  Saying Goodbye

  “Bram, oh thank God!” Bram’s neighbor ushered them into her apartment and quickly shut the door. He hugged the thirty-something brunette tight before helping her close a wall of metal hiding her front door.

  Bram had, presumably, moved the dead body out of the hallway while Chloe had changed so she wouldn’t have to see it again. She was thankful for that, but the smell of decay lingered, reminding her of the carnage waiting for them outside the relative safety of Bram’s apartment building. The brunette must have been able to smell the decay too. She looked at Bram, wondering which of their neighbors had fallen prey to the scabs.

  He silently waved off her questioning look.

  Chloe’s heart sank as she watched the woman pick up a toddler that had asked to be held. She couldn’t fathom what kind of world the next generation was going to grow up in. Or if there was even going to be a next generation.

  Chloe looked around and briefly gave a somber smile. The woman’s apartment had been retrofitted with the same iron as Bram’s, only it had all been painted a soft-white to look homier Chloe presumed. And there were others inside as well. A young family huddled in the dining room with two small children, two middle-aged men were in the kitchen, and an elderly couple was sitting in the living room. By the looks of them, some had been outside and borne witness to the horrors. Chloe gained a new respect for Bram just then, knowing he cared enough about his human neighbor to keep her and her baby safe.

  “Jess, this is Chloe. Chloe this is Jessica and Sophie.”

  “Hello.” Chloe felt strange saying the greeting from beneath her glamour. Even her voice wasn’t her own.

  “Nice to meet you, Chloe.” Jessica said warmly, giving Bram a questioning look.

  “Hi.” Little Sophie waved.

  Bram handed Jessica the keys to his apartment and looked around the room. “How many?” he asked.

  “Eleven,” Jessica stated.

  “Divide the strongest between the apartments as best you can, but you and Sophie stay here. It’s safer.” He said the rest in a hushed voice. “They found me, and I don’t know if they’re still watching my apartment or when I’ll be back, but if you keep everyone to strict rations, it’ll last until the streets calm down. Only go out when the sun is highest and stay out of the darkest shadows. Scout the other apartments first for food and water, always in teams. You know where my weapons are and…”

  “And we’ll be okay, Peter Bram.” Jessica cut him off. The strange name she’d called him seem to put his mind somewhat at ease. She looked at Bram in his suit and short hair and Chloe in her glamour just then. “You’re really going out there? You’re actually going to fight them?” Jessica asked. Chloe and Bram looked at each other. They knew she wasn’t referring merely to the lower caste of scabs but rather to the royals themselves.

  “We have to try. If we don’t…” Bram didn’t finish his sentence. Chloe knew none of them wanted to think about what would happen in the weeks and months ahead, let alone say it out loud. No sun meant no crops, no crops meant no food, and no power meant no water or communications. Every country, every city, every pocket of life left was on their own.

  “What do you need?” Jessica asked.

  Just then, Sophie pointed down at Chloe’s feet. “Chooose, Momma,” the little girl said, happy with her observation.

  “Shoes.” Chloe shrugged and nodded in agreement.

  “Come with me.” Jessica led Chloe to her bedroom.

  “Choose.” Sophie giggled.

  “You’re not fae are you?” Jessica stated more matter-of-factly than a question. She placed Sophie on the bed to play while she searched the bottom of her closet.

  “What? Oh...no.” Chloe was caught off guard and didn’t know what to say exactly. “Ah, human,” she finally responde
d, playing blocks with Sophie as her mom peeked out of the closet from time to time while digging through boxes.

  “Ah. It’s just, you look exactly like one of the fae from the faerie tales Peter Bram used to tell me when I was a little girl.”

  “Peter Bram?” Chloe asked.

  “Oh, sorry. It’s the nickname I gave Bram when I was, gosh, six; I think it was. Has it really been that long? Anyway, to a six year old, he was magical, my very own Peter Pan,” Jessica said with awe. She was quiet for a moment, probably thinking back on a more innocent time. “He’d check in on me and my grannie when my mom had to work double shifts and tell us stories of magical lands and creatures you wouldn’t believe.” She scoffed as she reminisced, “He hasn’t aged a day in those thirty years either.”

  Chloe’s eyes grew wide. Thirty years?

  Jessica peered out of the closet again. “Glamour or not, I see the way you two look at each other, and the answer is no. He and I never…” She cleared her throat for Sophie’s sake, but Chloe got the message. “Bram’s been like a father to me since I was a little girl.” She went back to her search.

  “I, uh…”

  “You don’t have to say anything. It’s just an observation from someone who only wants the best for her Peter Pan. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. You make him happy, Chloe, even in all this.” Jessica peered out and waved her hands in a circular motion all around them. “You make him happy.” She paused and stared at her wall of iron, listening to the howls that came from beyond. “But now the whole world, or whatever’s left of it, knows that fae are real. And some of them are truly monstrous, aren’t they?” Jessica was silent until she appeared from the closet again with a pair of knee-high black-leather boots.