Fae Captive (The Mage Shifter War Book 1)

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Fae Captive (The Mage Shifter War Book 1) Page 1

by Elle Middaugh




  They think capturing me will help them win the war.

  But they just made the biggest mistake of their lives.

  As a summer fae princess and chief enforcer for the Mage Police, it’s my job to stop shifters dead in their tracks—emphasis on the dead part. And if one criminal slips through my fingers while I bag another, well, that’s not a good enough reason to demote me—in my opinion.

  Determined to prove myself to the mages, I go after the worst criminal out there: The Shadow. But when that mission gets blown all to hell, I find myself a captive of three shifter warlords.

  Being their prisoner shows me all about the darker side of the war. But the thing is… I’m not afraid of the dark.

  Or them.

  If you like Raven Kennedy, Ivy Asher, Tate James, A.K Koonce, or Laurell K. Hamilton then hold on! You’re in for a delicious read!

  Read Fae Captive TODAY and experience the thrilling romance for yourself!

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

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  1. Aubry

  2. Aubry

  3. Drake

  4. Aubry

  5. Aubry

  6. Easton

  7. Aubry

  8. Aubry

  9. Bodie

  10. Aubry

  11. Aubry

  12. Drake

  13. Aubry

  14. Aubry

  15. Easton

  16. Aubry

  17. Aubry

  18. Bodie

  19. Aubry

  20. Aubry

  21. Drake

  22. Aubry

  23. Aubry

  24. Easton

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  Acknowledgments

  About the Authors

  Also by Elle Middaugh

  Also by Ann Denton

  Copyright © 2020 Elle Middaugh and Ann Denton

  1st Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  Moon Storm Publishing, LLC

  1150 First Ave. Ste. 511

  King of Prussia, Pennsylvania, 19406

  ISBN: 978-1-951714-04-8

  To hot gangster shifters everywhere.

  We’ve left the back door unlocked for you. ;)

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  1

  Aubry

  I was justice in the night—dark, winged, vengeful justice and I was gonna end these assholes like a damn apocalypse. I was gonna punch a hole through them and steal all their tomorrows. One of us wasn't gonna walk outta this warehouse alive and I knew who I was betting on.

  I wasn't even gonna shed a tear over their furry asses. Shifter scum.

  At least, that’s what I told myself…

  I perched on a warehouse beam, my silvery white hair tucked up into a black beanie, my ebony uniform helping me fade into the darkness. I felt like a fae version of Batman, wings spread in the shadows behind me, watching the criminals below scurry back and forth with their stolen cargo.

  The moon lit the room through the windows underneath me, until a cloud passed over it and obscured the beams of light. The gloom forced me to squint as I stared down at the shifter gang. That’s when I noticed a large figure open the door at the back. He peered inside, watching the boxes move back and forth. I assumed it was a man because of his size, but I couldn't make him out clearly without the moon's aid. He was just a solid shadow, slightly darker than the surrounding blackness, one who took up the bulk of the door frame.

  Lackey? Guard? Criminal? Who knew?

  Something about him made a shiver slither down my spine. I narrowed my eyes and tried to make out his features, but he snapped the door shut before the moonbeams pummeled the darkness and lit the room up again.

  Just as well.

  I really only had my sights set on one shifter tonight. The one my team and I had been silently stalking for days. I returned my attention to my target, the criminal heading up the night’s enterprise. A dangerous little fuck who’d gotten out of assault charges in the past and had slipped through our fingers because we lacked evidence.

  Avin "El Fuego" Monterro, aka "The Fire," was a twenty-five-year-old mountain lion shifter who'd given himself his own nickname in order to appear more badass. The punk. He moved through the warehouse below like he owned the place, a glowing cigarette squeezed tightly his fingers. Smoke curled out and drifted up toward me, making the air almost as filthy as he was. I had to stifle the urge to cough or flap my wings to push the smoke away. Los Angeles had been a smoke-free city for years, but it wasn't like these gangsters gave a damn.

  The ‘fireman’ dismissed his three lackeys with a wave of his hand, not even bothering to speak. He was an arrogant idiot, and kind of an asshole boss. Those lackeys had risked their skins breaking into a mage shipment for him. They at least deserved to watch him unwrap the prize, didn’t they?

  But shifters didn't operate on fairness or logic. They were pure instinct—selfish instinct—and because of that, they were tearing our city apart. We'd been at war with them for decades now, since before I was born. And now that I was a part of the cause, I was hoping I could help end the violence and suffering of my people… by ending the shifters entirely. They were out of control—on the verge of revealing us to humans and forcing all the magical races into enslavement again, just as things had been centuries ago.

  I watched his lackeys trot out with resentful eyes. They might have been wolf shifters based on how they balanced on their toes when they walked. The door slammed behind them and ‘hot stuff’ rubbed his hands together in greedy glee.

  He wanted to be alone? Fine by me. A single shifter was easier to take down. I had backup around the block, anyway, waiting for me to activate the silent magical alarm button on my belt. My fellow enforcers would close in with guns and mage staffs blazing if I needed it.

  But I didn't really want backup. My blood was pounding, my senses heightening. This was about to be the biggest bust of my career, the most important one since I’d become Chief Enforcer, and I wanted to handle the entire operation myself if I could help it. My fingers clenched and unclenched as I waited, ready to pounce.

  I just needed to catch the little ‘matchstick man’ red-handed first. Once proven guilty, Mage Law encouraged execution instead of arrest. It was extreme, but I understood why it was necessary. It was either them or us, and if we didn’t take them out immediately, they would kill even more innocent magic users. We couldn’t allow that to happen. It was my job to ensure that it didn’t.

  I held my breath, heartbeat quickening as I stared down. I adjusted my bodycam so the feed focused directly on my target as he strolled along.

  El Fuego used a crowbar to pry open a wooden crate. Sawdust and straw spilled out of the box and onto the jerk's expensive leather shoes. But I didn't notice the sawdust, other than the fact that the footprints in it would be another piece of evidence to tie the skinny shifter to the scene. I focused on the glowing jewel that the scraggly, couldn't-grow-a-beard-to-save-his-life shifter held up.

&nb
sp; It was a mage jewel.

  These shifters are going for the big guns. This war is getting worse.

  My mouth dried out and my eyes grew wide, as the glowing lime green gem was lifted out of the box. Mage jewels came in all colors, shapes, and sizes, but there were two things they all had in common: they were all filled with otherworldly power, and because of that power, they all glowed.

  For centuries, they’d been used to protect villages from floods and to end droughts; to stop wildfires, earthquakes, and tornadoes. They used to do a million different things. Once upon a time, the glowing jewels had even kept magical communities hidden from humans. But now... the damn shifters were trying to weaponize the magic.

  This was, by far, the largest mage jewel I’d ever seen. It was nearly the size of ‘sparky’s’ fist. His cigarette fell when his jaw dropped open at the sight of the jewel.

  Yeah. You and me both. Holy mother of dragons, that jewel is huge.

  I fought off the bile that rose in my stomach. If that jewel fell into shifter hands, it could do a lotta damage. It was more imperative than ever that I wrap up this arrest and execution in a pretty little bow, and hand El Fuego over to the Mage Council on a silver platter.

  The burning end of his cig started to smolder in the straw and he quickly jumped to stamp it out. That was when I made my move.

  I leapt from the beam and spread my wings. Catching the air, I shifted my body weight, angling myself down and tucking my wings so that I gained speed and shot like a bullet toward my target. A wild smile spread across my face as I rode the adrenaline rush like a junkie rode a high.

  El Fuego looked up a millisecond before I hit him.

  SLAM.

  I smacked into his torso and spun quickly, using my wings to hover, then kicked his cheek before we hit the floor. He gave a grunt as we crashed down, the impact of my body and my leg a double whammy. The jewel rolled across the floor, tinkling like a wind chime, but thankfully it hadn’t broken.

  As I pushed off him, I quickly grabbed a Lethal Protection Potion off my belt that would prevent him from killing me—for the next five minutes anyway. I smashed the little bottle into my chest and smeared the green goo around.

  Licking my lips, I watched as the skinny little wet noodle scrambled to his knees.

  I ached to kick him again as he pushed up, but I had protocols to follow. I couldn’t completely ignore them. A couple hits, I could get away with, but no cheap-shots.

  Stupid bodycams forcing me to follow the rules.

  I hit the silent magical alarm on my belt, calling in backup. Outside, a car alarm would go off on one of our undercover rides, alerting the team to close in. Technically, I needed at least one witness before making any moves, and definitely before making an execution—unless, of course, it was self-defense. And now that the fight had already started, maybe it would be?

  The blood in my system pounded like the bass beat at a club. For a second, it was the only thing I could hear. Then, in a move that surprised the shit out of me, ‘matchstick boy’ grabbed me and flipped me over his head so I smacked to the floor, a broken piece of the wooden crate digging into my back.

  Fuck!

  My vision went white. Pain left me gasping as El Fuego shifted, transforming into a long, muscled, mountain lion. His tan fur looked almost grey in the moonlight, but his yellow eyes glowed furiously as he stalked toward me.

  Part of me was pissed, but the other part of me was licking her lips and giving a sultry smile. Yes. This was exactly the kind of fight I wanted. After all those days my team spent tracking this asshole down, I was ready to see what he was made of. I wanted to ride the bull, so to speak. I wanted to feel that rush that I only got two places in life: in a fight or with violently hot sex.

  I forced myself onto my knees before my vision had even fully righted itself. Black specks still swam around in my eyes as I lifted a palm and shot some fire at the asshole.

  "Hola, El Fuego! I'd like you to meet my little flame!" My cheesy line didn't come out so great when I was still gasping from the literal fucking thorn in my side. But whatever. Fucker wasn't gonna live through this to mock me, anyway.

  To my shock, El Fuego didn't start to smell like burnt fur or barbecue. His golden hair didn't even shrivel and blacken under my blaze.

  What. The. Hell?

  The mountain lion's amber eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he stalked right through my fire.

  The impulse that had been driving me to fight suddenly stuttered.

  El Fuego's mouth opened, showcasing huge yellow canines. His tongue flicked across those sharp points, drawing my eyes, before human words poured out of his lion mouth. "Did you think I got that nickname by accident, little fly?"

  He used the shifter insult for fae to make me bristle, but I was too busy gaping.

  Motherfucker was fireproof.

  That's when he leapt.

  My stomach lurched, and I watched in what felt like slow-motion as El Fuego's claws came unsheathed. His paws were the size of my face. Those claws were large enough to rake out my intestines with a single swipe. He couldn't kill me thanks to the potion I’d applied, but that didn't mean he couldn't do unspeakable damage.

  I shut my eyes and let my glamour wash over me a second before impact. Using his words against him, I transformed my body into a fly and buzzed right over his head as he came crashing down. I flipped around in the air and landed on his back, letting my glamour drop and my normal body return.

  An insatiable itch immediately raced across my skin. Fucking glamour… it allowed all fae to transform their appearance but the aftereffects were brutal. It was worse than being swarmed by a herd of bloodthirsty mosquitoes.

  El Fuego bucked wildly, but I latched on with one hand like he was a bronco. Then I pulled my gun from its holster and held it to the side of his head.

  "El Fuego, you've been caught red-handed at the scene of a crime. I condemn you—"

  His head moved wildly and one long tooth pierced my calf. A stinging pain shot up my leg and my vision went red as I yanked my limb away.

  BAM.

  The shot echoed through the room. I had to leap sideways off his body as it crashed to the floor. My heart trilled in my chest as I watched his body fall still.

  Part of me felt a little sick to my stomach, like I always did after an execution. But the other part of me smacked that first part around, slammed down its cowboy hat, pulled up its chaps, and said, "That's what happens when you mess around in my town, motha' fucka'."

  Because it was.

  Moments later, my second in command burst through the warehouse's exterior door.

  Tallulah Bell was a pixie with neon pink hair who was more piss and vinegar than pixie dust. She fluttered near my head. Only six inches tall, she was typically underestimated. But she was a total badass. I’d seen her wipe the floor with unsuspecting shifters more than once.

  Tee glanced at the scene and her lip curled back in disgust. "Ugh. I prefer when you toast them."

  "He was fireproof?" It came out as a question. Because that little golden nugget of info hadn't been written in his file. Someone in recon hadn't done a very good job.

  Tee's face quirked in disbelief as she stared down at the shifter. "He was? Huh. Well then. Good thing the council passed that human weapons ordinance I guess. Why humans are so obsessed with loud, awful-smelling firearms though, I just don't understand."

  I shrugged. My nose was not nearly as sensitive to the particles in the air as the little pixie’s. She made a show of coughing and waving her hand in front of her face as she flew through the room.

  Tee had argued endlessly when the ordinance passed about ten years ago. She'd wanted citrus-scented gunpowder, and approximately no one gave a damn. She was still complaining about it.

  "Didn't save any baddies for me, did you?" she asked, longingly. Her pixie dust packed a buzzing black punch and burned up skin like road rash.

  I shook my head and started scratching my itchy arms. "Did you ca
tch the rest of the furries outside?"

  I stepped forward gingerly on my injured leg. The puncture wound from his teeth immediately sent pain flaring up and down my limb. Damn, that hurt. But the pain also came with a sick, twisted sense of satisfaction. Because I’d won.

  "Think we got them all," Tee responded, tilting her head to study my leg. "You injured, Princess?"

  I glared at her mid-scratch. "Don't call me that."

  She held up her hands. "Hey. It's not my fault you were born with a crown on your head and a silver spoon—"

  I shot a bolt of fire at her, but I didn't put any real speed behind it. Tee flew to the side, dodging it easily.

  "Someone's grumpy. Now I get why you went all Texas Chainsaw Massacre instead of a neat kill. Having a bad night?"

  I rolled my eyes and pointed toward the mage jewel. "Think you could pick that up?"

  Tee's eyes landed on the jewel and then went round as saucers. "Whoa, momma. Talk about a big one. I mean, I thought Aaron's cock was—"

  "Tee, work talk." I didn’t know how many times a day I had to remind her not to talk about her mate. Too many. My annoyance seemed to make the itch intensify and I raked at my skin like mad.

  "Oh, right. Yeah. That's one big mage jewel."

  I shook my head in amusement, limping toward the door like some kind of allergic walking dead, but another squad member stepped inside just before I reached it.

 

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