Fae Chronicles 01 - Fighting Destiny

by Amelia Hutchins

  He snorted as he pulled the vehicle onto the highway and gassed it, opening the engine as we drove back towards Spokane. "Who died?" I asked trying to change the subject.

  "There still should have been records, yours are sealed. Adam's were opened but only said he was found outside the Guild—by the door to Alden's living quarters."

  "Should have been, what does it matter anyways?" I was getting angry.

  "I like to know everything about those I work with. Surprises can get people killed," he replied coldly.

  "So ask me what you want to know," I snarled.

  "How many lovers have you taken between your thighs?" He asked casually, as if he hadn't just switched topics completely and asked me something deeply personal.

  I realized it was a test, to see if I tell him the truth. "One."

  "Only one?" He asked his eyes firmly on the road still.

  "Sorry to disappoint," I mumbled taking in the passing pine trees out the window as the countryside flew by us.

  "How old are you?"

  "Twenty one," I answered.

  "Twenty one and only one man?" He questioned.

  I flinched inwardly. It wasn’t from the lack of men on my roster. It was because I'd only loved one and I didn’t believe in simple sex. I'd loved Adrian with everything inside of me, everything I'd been. Until I'd gotten him killed.

  "I didn’t feel the need to fuck everything with a dick, so yes. Only one."

  "Everything with a dick? No wonder you gave in so easily to compulsion, you need to get laid."

  "I don’t need to get laid. I can do the job just as well by myself."

  His eyes swung over, the heat of them drilling into my head until I gave in and turned to face him. His eyes glowed with intensity so bright I had to blink to keep looking at him. "Indeed, but getting yourself off is not the same as allowing someone else the intense pleasure that comes with allowing a release. Nor does it scratch the itch that burns inside of you. It only scratches across the surface."

  "Is there a point to this? I don’t think my sex life—or lack of is any of your business," I growled fed up with talking about how lacking I was in the entire department.

  "Did you love him?" He continued ignoring my outburst.

  I felt hot tears threaten to break lose at the touchy conversation. "Yes."

  "Are you still in love with him?" He pressed.

  "He's dead, change the subject."

  His eyes narrowed but he turned back to watch the road. My mind scanned over the line of questions and then discarded them quickly. It was still painful and saying his name made my heart ache. His beautiful face was still the first thing I saw before I closed my eyes—or had been until meeting Ryder.

  "How long were you together?" He asked quietly.

  "Too long. I don't like to talk about it, so ask me anything else. Just don’t ask me to talk about him."

  "What do you remember of your parents?"

  "Not much," I swallowed a sob and closed my eyes against the pain that always came with talking about them. "Is this another test? Why can't you just leave them out of this?"

  "There are no baby pictures of you, Synthia."

  "Maybe I was an ugly baby?" I said grinning.

  "Or maybe you were not theirs."

  I wanted to scream at him. They were my parents, they were all I remembered. I hated that he was making sense. And that I had never questioned it before. "Why would the Guild lie? It's not like I'm the most powerful Witch in the Washington Guild, it's not like they are trying to hide that I am a card carrying member either Ryder. So what would it matter if I was adopted?"

  "I'm on a need to know basis and you are the only witness to the murders of your parents."

  I nodded but knew I was about to shoot holes through his theory. "The Fairy was killed by at least one woman and there were no woman at the deaths of my parents Ryder. Nor were bombs placed inside of them. It's not the same killers."

  "You blame yourself for their deaths, why?"

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "Because I could have prevented it, I could have protected them."

  "You were five, what the hell could you have done to stop Fae from killing them?" He snarled.

  "I'm a shield Ryder. I could use the ability when I was five. I was the only reason they couldn’t cast, because they chose not to tap the line because of me. My parents were powerful, but they needed the lines to cast and doing so could have hurt me, so technically they died protecting me."

  I wasn’t sure why I had told him, or why I was indulging him with any information for that matter. I felt as if I wanted to, which wasn’t like me at all. I didn’t discuss my life with anyone, not even my friends who knew it already.

  "That's what parents are supposed to do."

  I glared at him, "Why the hell am I telling you this?"

  "It's the binding of the contract," he said smoothly with a smile twisting his lips. "The contract makes you feel comfortable around me. Basically I can ask you pretty much anything and you'd feel the need to talk about it." He smiled wickedly.

  I felt the anger boiling up. "That’s shit, how do I get out of the contract?" I asked with a hint of anger making my voice shaky.

  "You make me trust you enough that I no longer need it to control you," he said before turning those amber eyes back on me with his smile still in place.

  "So basically if I do everything you want, I can get out of it?" I asked hoping it was that easy, but he was Fae and nothing would be that easy with him.

  "You can openly become my property," his smile turned wolfishly handsome.

  "Can you hold your breath while I think about it?" I smiled back showing him my own pearly whites. "You don’t even like me, so I'm not even sure why you would offer that."

  He was about to say something else when his phone went off. He reached into his pocket and answered it, his eyes narrowing which I noticed he did a lot around me.

  I watched him swipe his finger over the screen and hold the phone up to his ear. "Z, you sure? And you confirmed it was another Witch yourself?" He listened and then continued giving me a sideways look. "Sounds good, stop by the warehouse and get the gear," he paused listening again, "Yes, full armor this time. No, keep the reporters out of this. No, it's out in the middle of nowhere, should be easy to secure," more silence ensued, "Yes. Okay good, we're in route now."

  He hung up his phone and turned to meet my eyes. "I hope you're ready for this, not the same when it is one of your own."

  Great, the bodies were piling up faster than we could stop them from happening. At this rate we would have an entire army of dead women. "Oh shit, necromancers?"

  "Necromancers what?" He asked narrowing those brooding eyes again.

  "What if they're building a Frankenstein? Part Fae, part Witch? Think about it, they can reanimate the dead, but what if they built the dead?"

  "Why would they? What purpose would it serve?"

  I winced, it didn’t make sense. They could kill them and raise them for their powers. Something was off though. Someone was collecting pieces of the dead. Like a puzzle that needed put back together. I tilted my head considering what we knew and then exhaled slowly.

  "None of this makes sense, the Guild needs to recall everyone and go on lock down until we can catch whoever is killing the weak links."

  "You think it's that easy? We can’t just recall the Fae. We have thousands living outside of Faery."

  "You might have to," I argued, "I can't find a pattern and neither can you. Which means Washington is a hunting ground for a serial killer who likes to cut people up and play with their insides before planting bombs that ruin the evidence. Feel free to chime in if you have a better idea, but until we can find a pattern, it means anyone left outside the walls of protection is fair game to this sick freak.

  Fifteen

  Beacon Hill sat on the north side of Spokane. It was a lookout where couples came to make out. Friends would sneak up here and hang out or do other things. Today
it was empty—minus the crime scene team Alden had beat us here with.

  The grey clouds loomed over us, as a grim reminder of what had happened here. Belinda hadn't been home when she'd been caught. She'd been jogging if her workout clothes were anything to go off of. She was faceless, as if it had been peeled off, but unlike the pixie she had her eyes and no surgery had been performed.

  The CSI team was looking green, one of them more than the others. His normally bronzed skin was pale and he was holding his stomach at bay—barely. Rex was his name and he was an earth Witch who'd been unable to tap a leyline. He'd spent most of his time digesting science before transferring over to the crime scene unit.

  "Rex, breathe in through your mouth, out through your nose," I mumbled trying to help him as I took in the body through the helmet Ryder had demanded I wear. "I'm taking this off. I can't see shit with it on."

  "Leave it on, just because we cannot see a bomb doesn’t mean there isn't one present Synthia." He grumbled from beside me.

  "She isn't cut like the Fairy was, I don’t see anywhere a bomb could have been placed."

  I looked closer. There was hair around the body in clumps. The smell around us was putrid and yet something sickly sweet covered the body as well. I closed my eyes and opened them with second sight looking for the green aura trail that had been at the first crime scene.

  "Red?" I asked aloud, to myself.

  "It's not green like you said the other one was and red is the color a newborn Vampire leaves in its wake. Is it crimson, or pinker?" Alden asked coming up to place his hand on my shoulder gently.

  "It's bright red, like the color of fresh arterial blood."

  "See anything else while you have your headlights on?" He asked with a serious face on.

  "My sight works as well as your own Alden," I replied already looking around for anything else that would help us find the bastard responsible. "No heel marks like last time, no bomb. She wasn’t expecting anyone over for tea either," I said sarcastically.

  "Tea?" He asked scratching his head as his blue eyes narrowed in confusion.

  "I forgot you weren't at the last one, we almost died. Bomb blew up, with us standing inches away," I said already growing tired of the subject.

  "Syn," he replied softly.

  "Yeah?"

  "I'm glad you lived and I'm glad you were there. Figured I should start with that. I'm glad you were there, but if you hadn't been we'd have a larger body count right now."

  I smiled sadly. The guy had a way with words. "Me too Alden, too many died before you decided to bring me in on this."

  He nodded and looked around the scene, his eyes scanning everything slowly, compiling it all to memory as he'd taught me. He'd been an asshole to have as a teacher. Hard on everyone one of us, but it had been because he'd wanted us to be prepared.

  "Alden, nothing here makes sense. This scene is off compared to the others Larissa showed me. Everyone had something inside missing, an organ, tissue and other severely disturbing shit. But this girl?" I tossed my hands up in the air, "She isn't missing anything outside. And other than—wait, her neck," I stepped closer but it was too late.

  I didn’t have time to throw the shield, or react more than saying "oh shit" the light that I'd seen in the body had turned from red to green and then the scene exploded. Everything stopped, the sound, the movement. Impending doom.

  Knowing that you're going to die can put everything around you in slow motion. I could hear the animals running as if they too knew what was coming. The birds that had been flying over the scene had stopped chirping even. I had time to look for my coven and see that they were a safe distance from the explosion. Further than I was.

  Rex was over the body, his eyes scanning the body with fear as he heard the click of the bomb before he exploded with it. The heat touched my face through the suit, kissing my flesh as I was thrown back against something hard and unmoving and then blackness took over my mind replacing the fear.

  I was on my back when my eyes flew open, warm liquid was seeping from my nose and mouth and someone was shouting over the ringing inside my ears. Someone was hovering over the top of me, a dim shadow without a face. Shouting. The helmet was removed and everything grew louder.

  "Syn!"

  Others were screaming around me, some on the ground like I was. My eyes gained focus and Ryder's piercing stare was looking down at me as his mouth worked, his hands shaking me. I watched his eyes grow wide as more piercing screams were ripped from around us.

  "My team," I whispered over the dirt and grime in my mouth. The coppery taste of blood thick as I tried swallowing past it to speak.

  "Adam took a few pieces of shrapnel, Larissa was shielded by his quick response," he replied scanning the field for them.

  I tried to nod but the helmet he'd made me wear wouldn’t allow for it. "Your team?"

  His eyes widened as his lips turned up in the corner. "They're Fae," his eyes sparkled with amusement.

  "Same team—today," I whimpered as pain erupted inside my head.

  "Syn stop talking, you're bleeding everywhere."

  "Same team today," I argued ignoring the pain.

  "They are fine. Immortal remember?"

  "Injuries? Oh my God, Alden he was right next to me!" I cried knowing he hadn't been wearing a vest or the head gear I had been sporting.

  "He's on his way back to the Guild. They sifted him back to a healer."

  I closed my eyes. Of course they'd taken him back. He was acting supervisor and head of the Guild. They'd have taken him back to safety ASAP at the first sign of danger. He was too important for this shit, being in this type of danger and yet he wasn’t the type to stay hidden as many of the other Guild leaders did. The fact that they risked sifting with him told me volumes. Humans did not react too well to sifting according to our reports, so the Fae gladly avoided it with us.

  "Where do you hurt Synthia?" He growled when I didn’t open my eyes soon enough.

  "Everywhere," I chirped feeling the stickiness of my own blood beneath the tight vest. He'd been right and if he hadn't been so pigheaded and stubborn I'd be dead right now. Not that I would admit as much to him.

  "Z, get our healer up here now. Gather our wounded and get them loaded up and back to the compound," Ryder barked out orders, his eyes never leaving mine, "Someone is sending us a message, a very loud message."

  A message? "What?" I asked still trying to speak past the blood pooling in my mouth. I needed off my back but my limbs wouldn’t move, "I need up."

  "I don’t think so. I can smell the blood inside the vest Syn. I'm getting my healer here to seal the wound."

  "Larissa can do it. I told you last night I don’t want Fae spelling me."

  "I didn’t say you had a choice and Lari has agreed that she isn't as skilled as our healers."

  Lari? He was calling Larissa by the nickname I had given her? I felt betrayed that she would have told him, or that he felt inclined to be able to call her that at all. I watched the clouds parting, the suns light shining down on the scene.

  My team stood off to the side, mixed with his, watching us closely. It wasn’t something I liked, but if it hadn't been for Ryder and his men, we'd all be dead. I'd have let them in closer because I'd have thought I'd be able to shield them and it would have gotten us all dead. It was becoming a pattern.

  I was over my head on this one, the killer was just that—a sadistic sadist who wanted to kill as many people as he could. We kept running to the scene, looking for clues as he or she knew we would. But why? To kill the crime scene investigators, or to kill those of power who were now swarming in because of the notoriety that the killer was garnering for his kills?

  "I think your right, this was somebody sending us a message," I mumbled more to myself than to Ryder. Rex had been the only fatality that I could see, bits and pieces of him littered the cold ground. He alone wasn’t high enough by any standard to warrant this much planning by the killer though. No it had to be either Ryder or A
lden who had been meant to die here.

  The question burning in my mind was who and why? Nothing was making sense. There was only the pattern which left the question of why the killer wasn't keeping to it. I needed to talk to Alden. We needed to put out a recall to everyone who had moved out from the Guild. If we could break the pattern maybe we could control it.

  *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  It took less than thirty minutes after the Fae healer showed up to get me off my back. Thirty minutes of Ryder sitting beside me in the dirt. Watching me. Studying me. It had been the longest thirty minutes of my life. Not to mention the healer had pulled up my shirt and exposed my black laced bra to Ryder like a roast on a dinner menu.

  We'd gone from the crime scene back to his mansion again, where he'd tried to force me to sleep. As if. I was wired for sound after the energy the healer had used to heal the two inch wound in my side where the vest had left a gap large enough for the shrapnel to tear through my skin.

  It had been mortifying to be exposed and yet he'd been right again. Larissa couldn’t help internal injuries and I'd have needed to visit the hospital inside the Guild for treatment which I didn’t have time to do. Not and catch a sadistic killer.

  I watched as file after file was brought into the large oval office where both teams sat trying to comb through the evidence. This wasn’t going to stop the next murder from occurring, we knew if the killer kept to the pattern it would be Fae. Ryder had sent out a call to his people which might slow the killer down but it wouldn’t stop it. We were missing pieces, something that was covered up by the exploding crime scene.

  "I need to call Alden, we need to call back the Witches who moved out of the Guild," I complained for the fifth time.

  "Alden already has, he called an hour ago to check and make sure you were still breathing," Adam said coming over to where I was set up on a white sofa with a flannel blanket to keep my body temperature up.