by T. G. Ayer
I’d have to get someone like Mel to track her down like I had the last time.
For now, I had to focus on what this powerful fae wanted from Grams.
They both stood so still, as though time had frozen them in place, not even a strand of hair shifting to reveal they were living breathing creatures rather than granite statues. Mom’s arm tightened around my shoulders, an unspoken word of comfort edged clearly with an iron band of warning.
Don’t do anything stupid.
Yes, Mom.
I glanced over at my father, concern in my eyes as I sent him an unspoken question: What can we do?
He merely shook his head, eyes hard with warning. But I wasn’t at all convinced that he was happy to let this play out--whatever it was that was going on with Grams and her silent stare-down with her Fae Gramps. No way a son would wait to see his mother killed or taken without doing something.
Then again, Grams could have made him swear to keep us safe and let her go if there was ever a choice. I could understand her need to ensure we remained out of the firing line. But this was life or death. Despite the silent stalemate, I could feel it in my bones.
Danger lurked all around us. None of us were safe.
And then the room rang with low music, somewhere between a throb and a chime, ethereal and ghostly, and enough to send the hair on the back of my neck standing at attention. The Fae King’s voice was musical beauty and deadly threat all in one.
“Ivy, child of my child, blood of my blood. You are hereby called to the bosom of thine own family. You are requested to obey the summoning and return with me to the Fae Court of Ancients.”
“Requested my ass,” I whispered beneath my breath. Mom’s fingers tightened around my bicep and Grams’ jaw tensed ever so slightly.
Had she heard me from the other side of the room?
And then my heart stilled and felt like it was creeping up into my throat. The Fae King shifted his gaze from his granddaughter and focused on me, his strange eyes meeting mine and holding on it with a death grip.
I silenced a gasp, then realized I hadn’t moved a muscle. I couldn’t move a muscle. The muscles in my throat tightened and my chest convulsed as air ceased to enter my lungs.
Shit.
I should have known my smart mouth was going to get me into trouble. I tried to swallow, tried to breath, but though my nostrils flared, I wasn’t able to draw any breath into my lungs.
And while I struggled for air, all the Fae King did was smile at me, a gentle, sad smile, the way someone would look at a deer or a rabbit they were about to slaughter. I shifted in place, aware my body hadn’t been frozen, only my ability to draw air.
Which was clearly enough to end my life.
My head felt heavy, and I heard my parents’ rushed and desperate conversation. The word tracheotomy filtered into my brain and I nodded, gripping tight to Mom’s hand to tell her to do it.
“Kill my granddaughter and be prepared for war,” said Grams, her tone deadly.
The Fae King laughed, the sound brittle and crackling, lightning striking around the room, leaving random burn scars in their wake. “Do you truly believe you possess the kind of power and support required to take me on? Are you feeble-minded or simply far too rash for your own good?”
Grams smiled serenely. “I have enough support. I’d prefer to avoid a war, but should you endanger the lives of my family, I will have no choice but to take a stance against you. Grandsire.”
Again she spoke the word, though now it was filled with contempt--along with ice. Grams’ voice danced around the room, seeming to fill my head and my heart. But still the room darkened, and I became lightheaded.
In my peripherals, Mom was twisting open a silver pen and springs, and an ink cartridge clattered to the stone floor. Dad was muttering something about the pen being sterile, and I was certain I heard Mom reply, “Fuck sterility. She’s going to die.”
Go, Mom, I thought, though my ears were buzzing while darkness had clouded my vision, so much that I could barely make out the forms of the two people facing each other down. Grandfather and granddaughter.
With the rest of his descendants hiding in the fireplace.
Didn’t we all make one big happy family?
“Let her go,” Grams said, her tone calm though I could tell she was furious. More furious than afraid, which was significant enough to make an impact on my emotions, even when I was close enough to passing out that I shouldn’t be capable of feeling much.
“Will you come with me if I let the half-breed go?” Said the Fae King, his lips curling in an icy smirk.
“I will not engage with you under these circumstances. If she dies, you will find it all the more difficult to convince me to leave with you.” Grams’ response was granite, obsidian, unbending.
Panic filled my heart, and my head grew hot as my panther filled me with a second wind. Mom shifted around me, then placed the pen at the base of my throat. Her head was low, leaving my line of sight to the Fae King clear. Mom was smart to hide herself, to hide what she was doing. This would give Grams the upper hand if the Fae King believed he had control of her choices.
Mom lifted her eyes to me, and I nodded then clenched my fists—no need to hold my breath considering that option had been taken from me in entirety. A blink of an eye later, I felt the sharp jab of the pen as it penetrated my throat. The whoosh of air into my lungs was so welcoming that I almost gasped out loud.
“Easy, honey. Don’t make it obvious,” she whispered as she patted my arm and moved slowly back to my side.
I understood what she meant when I glanced over at the Fae king, who was slowly turning his attention back to me. His cold gaze remained on my face, and I held my breath, determined to not reveal that his control over me had ended.
I had to wonder, though if we were playing a losing game. Was it even possible to pull the wool over the eyes of an extremely powerful Fae?
And then, just before I was certain I was about to keel over in a dead faint, he shifted his attention back to Grams. “It appears you have chosen to sacrifice your little grandchild. I hope you remember this night. I hope you always remember that you chose her death over your own obligations.”
Grams simply smiled. “As I said, kill her and it’s war.”
I had to hand it to Grams. That smile said precisely how much venom she possessed where her Grampa was concerned.
Grampa Fae King tipped his head in acknowledgment, eyes flickering silver to black as he said, “So be it.”
Seconds later, a shard of ice shot through the air, straight at my heart. Mom gasped, and Dad shifted in place as though he was about to shove me out of the way.
But time seemed to pass faster than normal, and I knew they would never move in time to save me. I did the only thing I knew had even half a chance of saving me.
I raised my arm and used my armband to protect me.
4
Light flashed around the room again, though this time the electric energy surging from the Fae King returned to him with a power equal to that which he’d infused within his first strike.
I watched his eyes widen when he understood that he’d met his mark, the almost arrogant satisfaction knowing he’d landed a blow that would be both devastating to Grams, but that would force her to make her next decisions more carefully.
The Fae King had little respect for Grams’ declaration of war, and he hadn’t taken her seriously. All he was doing was biding his time when he’d threatened to kill another member of her family.
Still, he could have killed me already with a mere flick of his finger, but he hadn’t. What game was the king really playing? And why did he want Grams to go with him?
The power had bounced off my bronze armband and was now surging through the air toward the king. His eyes filled with fury as he was forced to raise both arms and form a cross with them in order to protect himself from the rebounding power.
The energy hit his shield and set his power aglow, revealing t
he dome he’d erected around himself. I would have called him a weakling, such a strong shield for a deflected power surge from a SkinWalker was overkill, but my body still shook from the impact of his initial attack, my bones still vibrating with the force of his fae magic. He definitely needed a strong shield, which had me wondering if maybe he had intended to mortally wound me.
If so, I’d have to rethink what his strategy truly was. Not that I had time at this moment.
As the power converged on the Fae king, it surged out of my bones and flesh, leaving me weak as a new-born as I sank to the floor of the fireplace. Had it not been for my parents’ support, I would have fallen flat on my face.
Now, as pure white light spun around in a different kind of vortex, I crumpled to the ground into my mom’s embrace, her soft arms giving me comfort and infusing me with warmth and energy. Dad’s arms were around my hips, supporting me and preventing me from keeling over.
As the energy fled, pain filled its wake, and my head swam. I was light-headed, but the sensation was far stranger and way more intense than anything I’d ever experienced.
Was it the power from the armband given to me by the goddess Ailuros? Or was it the blast of energy from my great-great-granddaddy the Fae King that I’d no choice but to endure?
I tilted my head to stare straight at him where he stood now, battling the energy that crackled and sparked as it ran rampant over the curved ceiling of the protective dome around him.
Grams stood still, gaze flicking from me to her grandsire and back again. Her expression was confused and shocked, but not at all surprised. What did Grams know that I didn’t? I really was getting tired of the woman and her secrets. I was surprised my dad hadn’t yet had an all-out tantrum when it came to his mom’s antics. The woman just didn’t know when to quit. Guess that would explain why her family didn’t seem to want to quit either.
I stared even longer now, determined that I wasn’t about to let the ancient fae out of my sight. Not until I knew exactly what he was up to, not until I knew for certain that he was down and out and not about to attack again.
From the look of Grams, her body tilted a little forward, fingers curled around a dagger and a strangely built pistol, her knees soft as though ready to spring into the air the moment the Fae King decided to attack again.
I coughed slowly, clearing my throat of the obstruction. Or rather, trying to clear it. I blinked as it sank in that I still had the pen stuck in my throat from the tracheotomy. Perhaps it was best to leave it that way, especially since I was pretty certain the king hadn’t removed the spell as yet. Probably one of the reasons he was surprised by my response to his attack. Maybe he’d expected some meek feeble female?
He got way more than he’d bargained for then.
A low roar filtered through the room, dull at first as it became clear that the king of the Fae was expressing his utter fury at his own failure. I almost felt sorry for him that he’d been bested in so many ways all in one evening.
And then the roar continued, striking deep into my eardrums, almost challenging me to continue breathing as the scream filled my mind and my body as though it were a living slug settling in my solar plexus with every intention of taking over.
I looked over at Grams who was also wincing, not bothering to hide the effect the king’s scream was having on her own body. Clearly, she wasn’t in the least bit concerned to reveal that such an attack would make her vulnerable.
But, before I could think more on Grams and her possible intentions, the dome surrounding the Fae King shuddered and then crumpled inward as though sucked toward him by some sort of invisible vacuum. And then, just as suddenly, it burst outward, the energy blasting through so violently that the walls of the living room cracked and swayed, the paint and plaster falling off the brick like layers of dried icing crumbling off a birthday cake.
The energy escaped the living room, and then only silence enveloped us all. A silence that was misleading.
As I scanned the area around the Fae King, wondering what else he’d managed to destroy, I again spotted movement in my peripherals. With one experience not so long ago proving accurate, I figured I ought to trust my new sense of awareness of things I couldn’t really see but was seeing anyway.
I glanced over at Grams and waited a mere three seconds before I spotted movement again. This time the person I saw was dark-haired, ebony locks a miso-mash of uneven slashes that traced her chin then trailed her shoulder to reach all the way to her waist on one half of her head. The other half was a mass of dreadlocks peppered with leaves and flowers that I could have sworn were bug-eating flowers.
I had this strange image of the tooth-lined petals of the flower’s clam-like mouth opening wider and wider in order to swallow me whole.
I blinked and would have stepped back had I been standing. Given that I was sitting on the floor supported by my dad, all I managed was a short flinch before I understood I was going nowhere real fast.
I was vulnerable, and so were my parents and grandmother.
And there were probably more fae lurking just beyond the Veil, ready to pounce, ready to fight.
It looked like Grams was about to get that war she’d just threatened the king with.
5
The dark-haired Fae rose from her crouch and crept closer to the king’s side. I wondered for a moment if they were his royal bodyguards, but that thought soon fled as I watched him glance at her, watched them exchange some unspoken words, then saw the Fae straighten in a silent salute.
They were not just delegates keeping the king company on a visit to his grandkid in the EarthWorld realm.
They were soldiers.
And as I thought the word, the Fae woman’s body shimmered, and a silvery sheen covered her skin. It grew from her neck to her wrists and then skimmed her torso all the way to her toes. The gold light danced along her limbs, riding the length of her body until it had encased her in entirety.
Again, my peripherals helped me out to reveal almost half a dozen spots of silvery glowing shapes, more of the king’s soldiers preparing for battle. That he’d come to our home bringing with him a great contingent of fighting soldiers was a real concern.
He’d come for war, even if it were just a minor one to him.
The dark-haired fae soldier spun on her heel and raised a hand, as a silent call to the rest of the half dozen armed Fae who’d by now encircled the king, armor shimmering with a dangerous beauty, hands slowly closing around the hilts and grips of a variety of weapons.
I glanced over at Grams who was still standing facing her grandfather as though this sudden show of weapons and soldiers meant nothing to her.
What was Grams up to?
“Does she want to die?” I whispered, barely registering that I’d spoken despite the pen still dangling from my throat.
“Hush, honey. He can hear you,” scolded Mom on a soft whisper.
I glanced over at Grams then back at my mother whose eyes were dark and ringed with worry, and now suddenly lined as though age had decided to take this particular moment in time to show its presence.
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. Let him listen in on our conversation. He’s not going to learn anything we don’t want him to hear.”
Mom shook her head in warning and Dad’s grip on my waist tightened. Neither of them wanted me to take any risks, and I understood that. They were trying to protect me. But I could take care of myself. Besides, I did also have my own personal dragon warrior to help me out.
I stiffened then, checking the time on the clock on the opposite wall. It was tilted sideways having come off one of the wall-hooks, but it was still functioning enough to tell me that Logan was gone awfully long. I slipped a finger into my jeans pocket and fished out my mobile phone, glad to see a message from Logan, disappointed to read its contents.
Can’t get through the ward. Too powerful. Anything else I can do from here?
I thought about who we would need that was powerful enough to fend off
Grampa King and his band of merry murderous Fae.
Barry, Evie and preferably Tara.
Ok. I’ll see what I can do.
I wanted to respond and say please see as quickly as possible, but I didn’t have time to think about replying. Something crashed hard into the fireplace just beside my head, and I looked up in time to catch the smirk on the dark-haired fae soldier’s face. Her eyes glinted a dangerous emerald and her skin undulated with tattoos of lifelike plants, stems and stalks entwining themselves around her arms while the leaves floated upon her skin as though they were lily pads on a pond.
The Fae dropped to her knees behind an overturned sofa though she wasn’t entirely hidden from view. I suspected the armor she wore would render her pretty invincible when facing our puny human or supernatural magic.
Tara is who I needed more than anything else right now, but I honestly had no clue how to contact her. Asking Logan to locate her had been a shot in the dark. Now I had to hope he’d succeed where I’d assumed we’d fail.
I forced myself to focus on my attacker who seemed ready to send out another volley of rocks that she was apparating out of thin air. I had to assume she had an endless supply of granite missiles, wherever she was bringing them in from.
I ducked in time to avoid a second rock hitting me in the head.
Dad grunted. “I’m getting a little fed up stuck here as though we are helpless.”
I snorted. “Right now, against this force of Fae? We are more helpless than ever. Grams had better be pulling something amazing out of her a-” I caught myself in time before saying, “I mean out of her bag of tricks, or else we’re literally done for.” But my parents appeared to have not noticed my slip, both too engrossed in fear for what was likely to happen sooner rather than later.
