Fae Chronicles 01 - Fighting Destiny

by Amelia Hutchins

  When I was on the top of the elevator, I paused checking for more cameras. I held my hand up to my ear and relayed to Adam. “Clear, heading up to the vault,” I whispered.

  “All is quiet outside Syn, good luck,” came back over the comm.

  “Who needs luck?” I gave a soft nervous laugh after the com had gone silent. I looked around, still kneeling since the elevator had yet to stop. There was an overhanging ledge from the top floor, which would mark his rooms.

  When the elevator had finally gone up close enough that I could jump, I did, sailing through the air with no margin for error. My fingers touched upon the thick metal and held. I inhaled slowly, letting it out even slower. After a brief second, I pulled myself up and used the small picture of Dristan’s eye at the sensor to gain entrance into the chamber.

  I held my breath and after a second that seemed to last for an eternity, it finally beeped and the doors slid open revealing the Dark Princes’ personal rooms. These were not warm and neutral, as the other room had been. They were masculine shades and vibrant. The walls were a bright shade of red with artistic Celtic designs that seemed to encircle the entire room. He had expensive white couches that had been strategically placed throughout the entryway. The large mirror that sat behind the couches wasn’t just for looks. It was expensive double paned glass that you could watch those who sat in the entryway without them knowing they were being observed. Shit.

  I ripped another piece of vellum from my pocket and slapped it on the wall whispering the same words…and the entire wall opened up. I quickly stepped back and took a fighting pose.

  The mirror that sat behind the couches opened, revealing nothing more than a walkway into the next room. I approached it cautiously, my eyes searching for anything out of place. When I was satisfied that it was only a passage and not an actual portal into their realm I stepped through. Thick spelled walls moved, pulsing with a life of their own.

  We had suspected that the Fae had brought parts of Faery into our world to bind the two and keep their entrance open. But this was more than we could have imagined. It also indicated that the Dark Prince probably had a Witch working with him.

  The spelled walls were a dark blue, with a vibrant green that seemed to be pulsing, moving and twisting as I walked beside it. It begged to be touched, calling out with a sirens song. I knew better, but even knowing it would probably lock me in place wasn’t helping much. When I finally spotted another entrance, I took it.

  This one opened up to his bedroom, not exactly where I would have chosen to go. The bed was huge, red silk sheets covered the entire frame snugly. Black pillows that matched the color of the walls were propped at the top of the bed and silver chains had been sewn into a few of them—so the Prince had a dark side. Go figure.

  Pathetic. I scanned the room noting there was only a single camera inside this room and it was aimed at the bed…yup, guy had issues. I left the room without a sound, scanning the few doors that were open to other rooms down the long hallway. I grinned when I finally saw the one I needed.

  It was thick type of wood and would take a few strips of vellum to open it. After I applied it and spoke the words very carefully, I entered the room and cussed violently. It was not lost on me, the irony of it all. It had been relatively simple getting to this point.

  Before me stood what appeared to be a torture chamber. And if that wasn’t bad enough, a medieval obstacle course ran the length of the room up to the vault doors. It wasn’t the torture chamber that had my knees shaking, nor was it the wicked looking tools either, it was the course. Whatever Fae had designed it had either spent way too many hours watching bad B rated movies or had a perverse sense of humor thinking this would deter humans.

  Wicked looking curved blades swung from the wall in a synchronized pattern. While thick twelve-inch axe blades swung from another part and fire blared to life right after those nasty little bits. Of course it had been crazy easy to get inside. No one in their right mind would try the damn course.

  “Syn? How we looking in there?” Adam's voice vibrated in my ear.

  “Peachy,” I growled, trying to figure out the pattern of the blades. I wanted to turn tail, go home and eat some chocolate just from looking at the damn thing. I’d live longer, my ass might not like me come morning but I would be alive for it not to like me.

  “Peachy as smooth or peachy as you found something you didn’t like?” Adam persisted.

  “Hey, tell Larissa she can have my OPI collection if I don’t make it out of here,” I said moving up to the course.

  “Syn—”

  “Enough Adam, if you don't hear from me in twenty minutes you need to head in and report to the Guild.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” he said in a small voice.

  “I need silence, no noise on the comm Adam,” I growled trying to make myself grow enough balls to take the first step into the course.

  I turned, eyeing the glass walls, what was it with these guys and glass? I noticed my platinum blonde hair looked darker inside the room. My azure eyes looked a little too big with the thick eyeliner covering them. I looked like a mess. My shorts were just that, very short. The tight tank top hugged my size D’s seductively drawing my eyes to them instead of the star brands on my shoulders.

  My mouth was actually quivering and I was never afraid of anything—except the Fae. I turned away from the mirror since it wasn’t helping me and I needed to do this now before the Prince returned. I re-pulled my hair back into the tight ponytail and stepped up to the gauntlet.

  I inhaled watching as the blades moved. I bit into my bottom lip and shook my head. There was no way to get past the knives. I was pretty sure the moment you tossed something in to their space, more bad things would pop up. I let out a shaky breath and took off from a dead stop that would lock me into the deadly course.

  The wicked looking blades shot out the moment I entered their path. One sliced through the small of my back, but it only drew a thin line of blood. Sure enough, as soon as I turned around, wicked looking poles shot up to keep me locked into the course.

  “No going back now,” I said to myself. I turned and ducked, rolling on my stomach as the blades whizzed past me. I was flat on my back as they swung mere inches from my face. I took a quick breath before I turned my head slowly, watching as the axe blade gouged two inches from the ground next to me.

  I was skinny, but not that skinny. I counted and then rolled quickly to the next thing before standing effortlessly and twirling my body through yet more sharp blades and axes. When I had successfully made it past them, I barely avoided the flames that shot from the walls.

  “Fire in front of me, water beneath me. Meet.” I brought my hands together to give the spell more force, without needing the ancient language.

  Nothing happened. I hated his Witch, whoever it was…someone had used a lot of blood to insure those flames were magic proof. “Aqua within, come to me,” I whispered allowing the magic to pulse through me, my body used the water inside to cover my skin, turning it slick and wet enough to quickly step through the flames and up to the vault door. “Take that Witchy Witch,” I growled already tossing a few pieces of vellum onto the thick metal door. “Patefacio," I said even as the thought crossed my mind that the course had been a little too easy.

  I gave a wicked little grin at my success and stepped through the door—to guns pointing at my face. I swallowed and looked around calculating my chances of escape. I met a pair of eyes so golden that it startled me. The face they belonged to was harsh and beautifully masculine. Shit.

  “Abort, that’s a direct order,” I said with more calm than I was currently feeling.

  “Syn?” Adam shouted.

  “Run.”

  Two

  I reached up carefully so as not to get shot in the head and removed my comm. I tossed it to the floor, knowing if I did more I might end up dead before I could figure out how to get out of this situation alive. The Dark Prince stood before me, his hair so black th
at it almost appeared blue in the lights. Golden eyes stared at me, no emotion in their endless depths, at all. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Would ever see, since my life was about to be cut short prematurely.

  “Search her,” he ordered. His voice had a slight brogue to it.

  My knees were kicked out from behind me, making me hit the floor ungracefully. I bit into my bottom lip to keep from crying out, or making any sound. Rough hands searched me from behind for weapons and came up empty.

  “She’s clean,” the Fae who was still behind me said after he was sure I held no threat. As he continued to search me, he found the thin paper in the tight pocket of the spandex shorts I wore. They had been tipped off, it was the only way they would have been waiting for me. I glared as cuffs were secured around my wrists from behind.

  “You came for the crown?” The Prince asked as his eyes slid down my body slowly as his men brought me back up to my feet.

  I remained silent. Nothing I said now could save me. I would never tell them why I was here, or who I was with and nothing on my person would give that away either. It was why I’d left all weapons at home. They could be traced back to the Guild through serial numbers and while I knew how to use them, I wasn’t a big fan of guns.

  “Your silence will do you no good. Help yourself out and I'll make your death quick, remain silent and I'll enjoy killing you slowly,” he purred closer than he had been seconds before, my eyes hadn't even caught the subtle movement.

  “I’m with housekeeping,” I ground out breathlessly since he was now inches from me.

  “Take her to the chamber,” he said to his men, to me he whispered in my ear in a strange language I’d never heard before. An ancient language, that much I was sure of.

  Everything inside of me screamed against the pressure that was building as everything started shutting down like clockwork. My mind pushed together as if something was fighting to gain control of it. Darkness swallowed my vision, my limbs grew heavy as if replaced by lead and everything inside of my mind went dark.

  *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  I awoke to ice water being tossed over my head. I was strung up like a spring chicken on market day. My arms were hung high above my head. I had to fight against the darkness to get my bearings back. Thick metal bands held me locked into place, chains hooked to my feet kept me from doing more than standing upright.

  My mouth was dry and felt as if I had eaten an entire bag of cotton. My shorts and tank top had been removed, leaving me in nothing more than my small black thong and lacy bra. My hair had been taken out of the ponytail and left to hang in my face.

  I could feel no new injuries to my body, no abuse while I had been knocked out. Whatever spell the Dark Prince had used on me packed a wallop that left me feeling weak and drained.

  “Ready to talk?” His voice came from a speaker in the middle of the room.

  “I—I told you…I’m housekeeping,” I whispered, since it was the best I could do, which sucked. I sounded weak.

  Silence reigned until a door popped open and then the Dark Prince strolled in wearing a white shirt and old jeans, which he probably used for torturing unwanted guests. “Tell me who sent you and I will go easy on you.”

  I laughed coldly.

  “Something funny?” He inquired moving closer to me.

  “Bring it Fairy,” I growled throatily.

  His head tilted, showing off his sharp exquisite bone structure. He was simply breathtaking. His hair clung to his face, hanging low over his ears. Those golden eyes had changed, showing his Fae features. Golden pupils surrounded by obsidian black circles, marking him royal in his breed. He had a days’ worth of stubble which only drew the eyes to his sharp jawline. He was taller than the Fae who had surrounded me earlier, standing well over six feet in height.

  “You will tell me what I want to know, in the end everyone does,” he whispered with a wicked twist lighting up his face, his eyes still watching me intensely.

  “Is that so?”

  “It is, tell me. Do you prefer torture, or I can easily feed to get the information I want out of you,” he asked as if we were discussing the weather, instead of my immediate future.

  “Torture—" Shit! I realized my error as soon as I had said it.

  “Feed it is,” his hands reached out, smoothing down the lines of my body leisurely, seductively soft as he touched my flesh. His eyes never leaving mine. I inhaled slowly, waiting for the anger to take hold of me. With anger, would come power. Only, it never came.

  My body burned from his touch, awakening something inside of me I had thought would never come alive again. Lust. Oh fucking hell, wrong place and wrong guy. I watched a smirk take hold of his full lips.

  His fingers traced elaborate patterns over my skin, until they stopped at the lace of my panties. “I think I might actually enjoy this,” he growled ripping one of the small thin sides from them, exposing the soft lines of my pelvis.

  “Bet you would,” I growled finally finding my voice.

  “I could take your emotions and make you think I am your God. If I turned you FIZ, you'd give me anything I wanted.”

  I blanched, I hated that they called the poor saps they fucked to the brink of death FIZ’s. Fae Induced Zombie. “Go. To. Hell. Fairy. Boy.”

  One side of his sensual mouth tugged up, as if he was fighting the urge to laugh. “I will show you how much of a man I am,” he purred placing his head too close to my face.

  “Oh baby, don’t hold back on me now,” I said mockingly.

  “I never do,” he whispered letting his fingers move over my soft folds making my body shudder violently in their wake.

  I struck without warning. Slamming my face into his and crying out at the same time he did. I fought against the chains, knowing that pain was up next. I’d smashed his too sexy face. No way was he going to allow me to live now.

  Surprisingly, he seemed unaffected after a moment. I on the other hand had blood oozing down from my smashed nose. He stepped back, reaching slowly down to the bottom of the shirt he wore before pulling it up and over his head slowly.

  I flinched, he was ripped and looked like he had stepped from the cover a male fitness catalogue. A solid six pack flowed down his abs, disappearing under the rough jeans he wore. A small thin trail of dark hair started below his navel, flowing in a thin seducing trail into the waistline of his jeans that clung loosely to his tapered hips. He was covered in Celtic brands that looked similar to tattoos, but moved.

  The door opened as another Fae walked in, as he got closer I saw he wasn’t Fae exactly—he was a Demon. His skin was covered in brands similar to mine and Adam's, which were usually invisible to the eye and if I invoked my own, they would glow and match his Celtic patterns. The Dark Prince didn’t have a Witch, no, he had a fucking Demon.

  The Demon was taller than the Prince. His silver eyes swirled with black patterns that were common for his kind. His hair was long and straight and looked as soft as silk and was the color of freshly poured ink. His forearms were covered in thick brands that I could tell flowed up and covered his neck and stopped just below his face.

  “Who do you work for?” The Prince continued to question me, his sharp eyes watching, searching for a weakness.

  “Your mother, she wants you to clean your bedroom,” I quipped sarcastically. A silent shiver raced down my spine as I remembered his bedroom. I flinched as he held his hand up until it touched my face. An earthly scent whirled through the room as cool waves touched my face. The bleeding stopped as he lowered his hand from my face.

  He ignored my taunts and nodded to the tall exotic Demon of his. A few minutes of awkward silence descended on the large sterile room. I watched him from beneath my lashes…his glyphs were beautiful. Thick black Celtic markings covered a single shoulder, flowing gently onto his chest and down his side flowing further onto his back out of sight.

  "I found something that might make you talk," he said interrupting my thoughts.

  I
was still trying to figure out what his brands meant when a familiar cry ripped from the hallway. My heart accelerated, my mouth going dry again, but this time with fear. Chandra and Adam were led inside the room, both bloodied from fighting for their lives.

  I felt angry tears push against my eyes, as I met Adam's vibrant emerald stare. They were told to leave, to run so why hadn’t they? I pulled all emotion back from my features, sucking in air until I wanted to choke on it. Chandra’s lip was swollen and bloodied as if she’d been assaulted.

  They were pushed in together and Adam was shoved to his knees in front of me. His shoulder length black hair clung to his bronze face, his eyes begging me to forgive him. I wanted to scream at him. He should have been clear, if he'd done as I'd said he would've been. I'd tried to buy them time with myself as a hostage. If I'd known he hadn't listened I would have fought them.

  I lifted my gaze from Adam to Ryder who was watching me closely and judging my reaction. He materialized a Rugger 9mm from thin air and cocked it before holding it to Adam's temple.

  “Talk or he dies.”

  A gun—seriously, even I knew these guys didn’t need guns to kill, so he had to be doing this so I could see the threat. I couldn’t talk. It was part of my training. If Adam spoke of the Guild or gave anything away—I myself would be killing him. It was part of the blood oath they made us take when we graduated. Our eyes met and held, his saying that it was okay, mine showing everything I felt. Frustration at not being able to help. Anger for what was happening and pain for what I was losing—my closest friend.

  “Use the girl,” his Demon said when I refused to answer.

  Relief washed over me as Adam was spared from death and chained beside me in the other set of hanging manacles. Chandra was pushed in front of me and shoved to her knees the same way Adam had been. She was fairly new to the Guild and I didn’t know her as well as I did Adam.

  I met and held Chandra’s eyes, telling her I was sorry but her eyes didn’t hold remorse, or regret—deep malice sat smoldering in her hazel eyes. I almost choked on my tongue—I knew that look. Shit…she would talk.