To Kill a Fae (Hollowcliff Detectives Book 1)

by C. S. Wilde

  He hadn’t called her after the accident.

  Mera had been stabbed in the gut by magic and nearly died, but Julian didn’t send her an email or a message.

  Had he been worried? Did he care?

  Shake it off, Maurea, she told herself. You’ve got a job to do.

  She hit send and picked up her phone for a video call, hating the fact her heart went a thousand miles per hour.

  Julian picked up almost immediately. His hazel eyes were wide, his brow wrinkled with concern, but his features relaxed when he saw her. “Hey, partner.”

  Partner.

  Hearing him say it hurt. Mera was betraying him, not because she would likely become Bast’s partner, but because she hadn’t told him yet.

  He was her best friend. She owed him the truth.

  ‘He didn’t call us,’ her siren reminded.

  Shut up, you petty asshole.

  “Hey Jules,” she greeted, noticing the precinct behind him. She spotted Phil eating a donut on the far, left corner of the screen. “Listen up. I sent you an email, and—”

  “Just got it.” He looked away from the phone and scrolled through his computer. “Shit, Mera. If Bast’s precinct finds out you copied the phone’s contents and sent them to me, we’re in trouble. Does he know what you’re doing?”

  “Yes, and he agrees.”

  “Does he? What if he blabs to his Captain?”

  He could, of course. “I don’t know, Jules. I trust him. He saved my life.”

  Mera spotted something behind his hazel eyes; something close to fear. “You trust the pixie all of a sudden? What changed in such a short time?”

  “Maybe the fact he saved my freaking life?” she repeated, not bothering to hide the frustration in her tone.

  He scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, I heard about the attack. Look, as far as we know, that witch was after him. Probably still is.”

  No, she was dead, but Mera couldn’t tell him without getting Bast into serious trouble.

  “You were collateral, Mer,” he went on, “which means Bast is putting you in danger.”

  “I hardly think—”

  “Ask the Cap to reassign you.” He ran a hand through his lemon-colored hair, giving himself a disgruntled and inappropriately sexy look. “Come back to the precinct. To the way we were. Don’t get involved with the fae. It’s not safe.”

  Something thrashed inside her; something angry and ugly. “If you care so much about me, why didn’t you call?”

  Great, Mera. Just… great.

  He blinked, as if he didn’t understand the question.

  “I nearly died, Jules.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “And you didn’t give a fuck.”

  Staring at her, his lips shaped an ‘O’. “Are you serious? The Cap told me what happened yesterday. I wanted to call you, but she said I should wait until you called us. Apparently, using a phone in public is a huge problem there?”

  Now she felt like an idiot.

  Mera rubbed her forehead. “Sorry, Jules. I know you care. It’s been a rough couple of days, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, I can see.” He leaned closer to the screen. “Mer, you have to come back. I don’t like this. I don’t like this distance,” he whispered.

  A blazing sensation flushed her cheeks. “Me neither,” she countered quietly. “But I can’t go back yet.”

  Taking a deep breath, he stared at his keyboard. “Okay, I’ll run through the files and see if I find something.”

  “I’ve sent you my notes, too.”

  “Ok. Thanks.”

  Oh, he was pissed. Still, Julian couldn’t help but laugh when he read something on his screen. “‘Lisandra Ferris: racist queen bitch’. I love your descriptions, Mer.”

  What else did he love about her?

  “So, all good?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll continue the investigation here while you handle the pixies.” He pressed his lips in a line. “Be careful, okay? I mean, some houses there enchant humans and use them as slaves. Fairies don’t care about Tagradian laws.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Jules. Some of them do.”

  “You mean Bast?” He frowned at her as if she’d suddenly turned into a different person. “Mer, the Tir Na Nog precinct is a charade. It’s supposed to convince the rest of us that the fae want to belong, but it’s bullshit. Fairies do whatever they want everywhere in Tagrad, and no one holds them accountable.”

  “That’s not true,” she countered. “Bast and his Captain have a hard time juggling the courts and the government’s interests. It’s not easy or simple.”

  “Is that what he told you?”

  “No, Jules. I’ve seen it.” Fire went up her head. “Besides, as I’ve said, I fucking trust him.”

  How many times would she have to repeat it?

  “You shouldn’t,” he countered. “They’re all corrupt.”

  Truth be told, he wasn’t wrong. Not long ago, Mera had believed the same. Still did, actually. But Bast was different. His problem, whatever it was, seemed a lot more complex than simple corruption.

  “That’s a generalist way of viewing it,” she argued. “It’s not that simple. Not every faerie is corrupt.”

  “Bullshit. All fae are nasty, and that partner of yours is no exception.”

  Sure, most fairies were nasty. There were tales of fae enchanting humans, or shifters, into dancing until their feet bled. Others glamoured humans and even vamps—a fae’s glamour was stronger than theirs—into eating poop while thinking it was a delicacy. Also, Lisandra herself had said point blank she’d meant to turn Mera into a cockroach and smash her with her shoe.

  Yes. Faeries could be sneaky bastards, but Bast was a different kind of bastard. One she could tolerate.

  ‘Oh, we could do much more than just tolerate him...’

  “Roger, partner,” she said before hanging up on him.

  Mera shouldn’t be mad at Julian. He was just watching out for her, and deep down, he was right. She’d only known Bast for less than a week. Sure, her gut might tell her he could be trusted, but her brain should have known better.

  Mera shut down the laptop and set it aside. Pulling wet wipes from her suitcase—a girl’s best friend on any trip—she wiped their fingerprints from the phone. She put the device inside a zip bag and closed it, then set it atop the coffee table.

  The bathroom door opened and Bast walked out with a towel wrapped around his waist. Water beads peppered his smooth, tanned skin, dripping down his carved stomach. His clumpy hair stuck to his skin, swirling down his shoulders and chest. And his happy trail… her gaze followed it and the siren hoped, prayed, that the towel would drop.

  Mera didn’t know much about fae deities, but Bast’s Duan must’ve taken extra time to make him.

  He frowned at Mera as if she had a watermelon on her face. “You okay, kitten?”

  ‘Fuck him,’ her siren whispered. ‘Straddle him and make him see stars, or I swear to Poseidon—’

  She blinked, clearing her throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  He crossed his arms, highlighting strong, wet, biceps, and raised one tantalizing eyebrow at her. “You sure?”

  Thirsty. She was suddenly very thirsty.

  “Yes, absolutely.” She looked away. If she kept staring at him, her siren would go crazy.

  A grim sensation settled in her chest as Mera wondered if her desire for Bast might be clouding her judgement.

  “They’re all corrupt,” Julian’s voice echoed in her mind.

  She grabbed the plastic bag with the phone and displayed it to him, like she was a five-year-old proudly showing daddy a school project. Her brain had clearly melted into a blob.

  “All bagged for tomorrow,” she told him.

  ‘That’s it!’ her siren threw her hands up in the air. ‘I’m done playing nice!’

  Chapter 12

  The waves strolled lazily past Mera’s waist. The fins on her temples shook with anticipation, and she licked her teeth. In the
night sky above, the moon shone fiercely.

  Mera took in the massive landrider standing before her.

  He towered over her with a strong, lean body, his form breaking through moonlight. The male had pointy ears that reminded Mera of her fins, and his blue eyes shone like beacons in the darkness.

  She caressed his long, light-silver hair, curling his locks between her fingers. They were so soft…

  “Finally,” she whispered to herself, her mind feeling light, before panic took over. Drawing a sharp breath, she slammed both hands on her fins to hide them. “Can you see me?”

  “Obviously.” Grabbing her hands, he set them down slowly. “Why are you covering your ears?”

  Mera let out a relieved breath. She might be waterbreaker, but what the landrider saw was the human version of herself.

  This wasn’t any landrider, though.

  Mera knew him.

  Bast.

  It didn’t matter if he thought she was waterbreaker or not. This wasn’t the real version of him. Mera was dreaming, she was certain. The Bast standing here was a product of her imagination, nothing more.

  She studied him through narrowed eyes, noticing each perfect shape. Dream-Bast looked exactly like the real thing. Even his musky scent mingled with the salty tang of the ocean.

  Mera bit her bottom lip. Her subconscious had done an outstanding job.

  He’s mine.

  He watched her curiously, his burning gaze sliding down to her breasts. “Sebastian Dhay, what a marvelous dream you’re having,” Bast muttered to himself with a low whistle.

  So, Dream-Bast thought he was dreaming? That was really meta.

  He unglued his attention from her naked body with a certain effort, and glanced at the night sky, then at the ocean. “I’ve never been here before. Have I?”

  “It’s Clifftown shore,” she explained.

  ‘Wake up…’ her own voice whispered from far away, but the order vanished from her mind as fast as it had come.

  Mera blinked. “What are you doing here?”

  Taking her hand, he pressed its back against his lips. “I could ask you the same. This is my dream.” He frowned and surveyed their surroundings once again. “How can it be my dream if I’ve never been here before?”

  “You’re not making any sense,” she countered, her tone low and sumptuous as if a spell had been woven into the words.

  She must be imagining things.

  “I’m sorry,” he rubbed his temple. “My thoughts feel… fuzzy.”

  So did hers.

  The ocean danced calmly around them, and maybe Mera was losing her mind, but she could swear the waves hitting the shore were singing. A sweet, lazy lullaby that scrambled with her common sense. Like the ocean was ensnaring them with a song, only to drown them later, and devour them piece by piece.

  A mischievous grin flashed on Bast lips, so white that it stood out against the darkness. He seemed drunk and slightly drowsy.

  “I wonder what we should do with this dream.” His nostrils flared as he stepped closer. His body’s warmth emanated into Mera’s, and he laid both hands on her naked hips. “You’re so beautiful… ”

  Mera peeked down at his crotch, that wonderful part of him half-hidden underneath the surface. She wished she could see it... touch it.

  Her mind felt like it had shattered into a million pieces, and she had no clue how to pick them up again. She shook her head, trying to focus.

  “We need to run,” she whispered, her consciousness split in half.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. The night is ours.” Her words didn’t feel like her own. They echoed through the waves, reverberating around the landscape and into Mera’s bones.

  Her siren grinned, spreading underneath her skin.

  She gasped in a panic. The ocean’s song, its voice; it was Mera’s own!

  Poseidon in the trenches, her siren was singing to them both, thickening their thoughts, and freeing their most primal urges.

  That bastard! Somehow, she’d brought Bast here, into her dream.

  But how?

  ‘Bast has mind powers,’ the ocean replied. ‘I’m simply tapping into his magic a little.’

  Why?

  Mera tried to understand her siren’s logic, which was her own logic in the end. Deep down, she already knew the answer; she just didn’t want to face it.

  ‘Look at him.’

  She knew better than to follow her siren’s order, but it was too late. The moment she stared into his soft smile, his gaze adoring her with a certain reverence, the remaining common sense she had abandoned her altogether.

  “Come to me, kitten.” He whispered, brushing a hand over her cheek.

  Stepping closer, Mera licked his strong chest.

  He inhaled sharply.

  Bast tasted of salt and sweat, as fresh as the night sky. A moan escaped her as she stood on the tips of her toes and licked the curve of his neck.

  “You should go,” she managed, fighting against the urge to kiss him. The urge the song instilled in her skin, straight into her core. The urge she couldn’t hold for much longer.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he countered before cupping her cheeks.

  Mera couldn’t tell if this was his real wish or her siren’s. It bothered her for a second, but then worry vanished from her mind, the way autumn leaves blow away in the wind.

  She took in the scent at the curve of his neck, her fingers digging into his hair. “I need to fuck you, Sebastian Dhay. Desperately.”

  Bast blinked, something wild and untamed taking over his eyes, and he wrapped strong arms around her waist, bringing her to him.

  Mera draped her arms over his shoulders, and together, they danced slowly to the ocean’s melody.

  Her siren’s song.

  “I want to fuck you too, Mera,” he whispered in her ear, his massive erection pressing into her belly. The tip of his length peeked out of the water, rubbing against her skin. “I’ve wanted to do it since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  Was that the truth or was it the siren speaking for him?

  She had no clue. She didn’t care.

  Mera felt like her body had split in two, the Mera with common sense screaming from a far distance… ‘Wake up!’

  She wouldn’t, of course. Her need for Bast was greater than her resilience. Greater than the entire world.

  Her thoughts dizzying, she looked up at him. “Be with me.”

  He pressed his lips to Mera’s, pulling her to him with a certain desperation, his fingers digging into her skin.

  They kissed so hard and for so long that she couldn’t feel her lips anymore. Their mouths, teeth, tongues, they were caught up in a frenzied war of their own, their breaths shallow and mingled.

  When he slightly pulled away, Mera clawed at the base of his neck, begging for his return.

  “So eager.” He pushed Mera near a smooth faced rock and lifted her up, so her legs crossed around him.

  “I need you,” she whispered.

  The siren’s power stole common sense from them both. Or maybe, it freed something that had always been there from day one.

  Mera barely registered the bitter possibility that Bast might not feel this way. That perhaps, she was holding him against his will.

  The siren chortled at the thought.

  ‘Go on…’ The ocean sang to them.

  Her arms curled around his shoulders, her legs tightening around him in a clear signal to continue. The space between her thighs yearned for him.

  Bast stared at Mera as he entered her with one powerful shove. A loud gasp escaped her lips, but he kept staring at her as he pushed deeper… and deeper.

  He clenched his teeth and hissed.

  She’d been with other landriders before, Mera had hazy memories of it, but this one was simply extraordinary, his size painfully delirious.

  He violently rocked in and out of her, the friction making Mera’s mind spin. Deeper he went, his rhythm breaking that of the w
aves as his tongue invaded her mouth.

  Bast was relentless and unmerciful. She moaned loudly as she lost her sense of self, going higher and higher until she sensed her apex coming.

  A shy squeal broke through her lips.

  This was wrong; so wrong. And she didn’t want it to stop.

  “Mera, fuck!” he growled, burying his head at the curve of her neck.

  His rhythm increased. He throbbed inside her, completely ensnared, and so was she. On they went, each other’s doom and salvation, a battle of lust and madness that she hoped would last forever.

  Fire built inside and Mera burned; no, she blazed.

  His name burst from her throat, once, twice. Her body quivered in her undoing, but Bast held her tightly in place. Her limbs clenched against his strong, warm touch, as a glorious dizziness took over her.

  “Oh, kitten,” he breathed her nickname as if it was a prayer. A part of him exploded into her violently, increasing her own release, and Mera saw stars ahead, above, stars everywhere.

  Slowly, she came to herself. Her breathing steadied, but she kept her legs tightly wrapped around him. Caressing his white hair, she whispered, “That was phenomenal, Detective.”

  Bast was still inside her, pulsing against her walls. “You’re mine,” he claimed raggedly, his chest heaving as he cupped her cheeks, his thumb running lazily over her bottom lip. “I claim you, Mera Maurea. I claim you under the moon and stars; I claim you under the night sky.”

  Mera woke with a gasp. She sat up on the bed, glaring at the dark room with light-blue walls.

  The sheets and mattress were drenched in her sweat. It clung to her skin and her clothes, the fabric moist and sticky. Her panties, however, were drenched with something else entirely.

  The door to the room slammed open suddenly, and she nearly jumped out of bed. There he stood, outlined by moonlight, a bewildered look on his face.

  Maybe Mera was still dreaming.

  “What the fuck was that?” Bast demanded.

  Cold sweat beaded on her skin. “W-what?”

  He pointed to her forehead. “You know what!” Rushing forward, he sat beside her on the bed, with searching eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness.