by Leia Stone
I spent the next hour or so tapping a soundless rhythm on my thighs. I wasn’t prepared for the cold wind that blew through the trees at night, and had to keep my teeth clenched in order to keep them from chattering. This was a waiting game and I had to win in order to get the blade. I was initially afraid of falling asleep while waiting, but it was so damn cold there was no way that was happening. Also the Tylenol root had worn off and the pain of my injury was coming on strong.
Once I felt enough time had passed, I stood and slowly stretched my legs. They were stiff, but nothing like the throbbing pain in my shoulder. I needed to find more of that root, and I prayed I could get these cuffs off and heal before any permanent damage or infection.
I stared at the small dying embers of the fire and was glad to see the two huge figures seemed to be lying down, hopefully asleep. They didn’t have a dog or anything like that with them, which was good, because I heard the fey had familiars of all kinds, and I couldn’t deal with killing anything more than I had to right now. The two dark fey I knew of from Delphi had their familiars killed before they were banished.
I shivered.
Leaving my pack at the base of the tree, I slowly cocked the hammers back on the shotgun. I wasn’t going to ask questions. If either one of those giant bundles of sleeping cloth moved, I was shooting.
Fey blade. Fey blade.
Focus. Just get the blade and get out, I told myself.
As I crept closer, I relished the warmth of the dying fire. Maybe I could sit here for a minute and warm up. My eyes immediately went to the large packs that lay just a few feet from the sleeping figures. There were two places I would keep a special dagger. In my pack or on my body.
I was going to check the pack first before groping a sleeping man.
I tried to make as little noise as possible, but still a few leaves crinkled under my feet and I froze each time, staring at the two sleeping men. They wore animal skins, pulled over their heads so I couldn’t see their faces.
I inhaled. Deer. Deer furs, freshly skinned. I could still smell the blood on them and it made me sick. It also masked their smell, which was smart.
Get the blade and get out. My eyes roamed the packs and excitement bubbled up inside of me at the sight of a glint of steel.
Tiptoeing over to the pack, with the two sleeping figures and the warm fire at my back, I crouched down ever so quietly and grabbed for the glint of steel that I’d seen. As I was pulling it out, I heard movement at my back. Not a small rolling over while asleep movement. Someone had awoken and was launching across the rocky ground to grab me. As the sound of scrambling feet filled my ears, I brought the shotgun up and spun around.
My finger was on the trigger, about to pull, when a shock of red hair tumbled out of the hood of deer fur.
It made me hesitate because it reminded me of Sage.
The deer-fur-covered person froze, yanking her hood back, and a strangled cry flew from her lips. “Demi?”
Everything in me shut down then. I’d been running for two days purely on adrenaline, and upon seeing Sage, upon knowing I was no longer in this alone, I just ran out of steam, ran out of strength. Lowering the shotgun, I fell to my knees, sobbing. Sage crumpled to the ground beside me and wrapped her arms around me gently, seemingly unsure how injured I was. She started to rock back and forth slowly like you would if you were holding a child.
I’m not alone. That’s all I could think. I’m not alone anymore.
“We’re here now. It’s okay. We got you,” she whispered.
Movement passed behind her and she looked up. “She’s shaking with cold. Get the extra fur,” Sage barked to the second figure, who I assumed was Walsh. I couldn’t see through the blurry landscape of my tears.
Two seconds later, a warm fur was thrown over me, bringing that nasty freshly killed smell with it.
“It hides our wolf smell from the fey. They hunt our kind for use in spells,” she told me.
Great. Hunted no matter what I was. Just freaking great.
I didn’t stop crying. I couldn’t. I felt so fragile and broken and embarrassed. But neither of them said anything. She just held me while Walsh kept the fur draped around my shoulders and no one said anything about my nervous breakdown.
It was a few moments before anyone spoke. “I smell your blood, Demi,” Walsh’s deep voice called behind me. “Are you injured?”
I sniffled, pulling back from Sage and wiping gently at my eyes, wincing when I hit the injured socket the queen had punched. I just nodded, unable to be strong anymore knowing I had others to lean on. Sage looked beat up as well, bruises on her cheeks; her hair was matted in parts with mud, and her nails had dried blood under them. She probably had a story to share about getting here as well.
Walsh crouched in front of me, strong and silent Walsh, here for me. Sawyer’s best friend. I felt so emotional I reached out and pulled him in for a hug. His arms were limp at first, as if I’d shocked him. Then he gave me two quick pats on the back and pulled away, clearing his throat.
“Where are you bleeding? I have a med-kit,” he asked again.
I nodded and pulled the fur back to show him my shoulder.
He hissed. “We need to get these cuffs off so your werewolf healing can kick in.”
Sage scurried to her pack and produced a piece of paper. “Sawyer said if we found you to give you this. It’s the incantation to remove the cuffs. We just need to find a fey blade.”
I looked down at the steel I’d dropped when going through their packs to find it was a regular old hunting knife.
I nodded to her, taking the incantation and folding it up before shoving it in my pocket. “I can’t… believe you’re here.”
Sage grinned. “It’s that or I go to Magic City Jail for murdering Meredith. Sawyer thought sending me on a recon mission was a better idea.”
More tears spilled from my eyes. She was a good friend.
“I would never cheat on Sawyer. Ever,” I told her.
She nodded, eyes going watery. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything right away. I was… so shocked. I mean, it all happened so fast, and by the time I started to question things you were gone. I chased after you and Eugene, but lost your trail.”
I nodded and squeezed her hand. “It’s okay. We were all tricked.”
She looked guilty as hell, and I wished I could take that feeling from her. It wasn’t her fault.
“When I finally got to talk to Sawyer, he was so sure Meredith was the one… his love. He kept talking about the stupid necklace. I knew everything was wrong then, that magic was at play.”
I nodded. I hoped it was currently at the bottom of a lake somewhere or bashed into a billion pieces.
I smiled. “He said you punched him in the face?”
A slow grin pulled at her lips. “‘No, don’t touch the necklace, it’s my special present.’” Sage mocked Sawyer’s deep voice and clutched at her neck as if re-enacting the scene. “Homeboy was brainwashed. I knew then I had to get that thing off of him.”
Walsh chuckled and pointed to my eye. “You and Sawyer have matching shiners.”
Okay, I totally forgave Sawyer, because it wasn’t his fault, but somewhere deep inside of me I felt a little spark of joy at Sage punching him.
Walsh pressed lightly on my shoulder and I hissed. “Your back is still bleeding. I need to suture it.” Walsh probed my wound further and I whimpered.
Sage looked at me sadly. “Can’t we wait until we find a blade to cut off her cuffs?”
Walsh shook his head. “That could take us all night, and she’s lost a lot of blood. Her whole back is crusted with it. She needs sutures now.”
Oops…
At that comment, dizziness washed over me. How much blood had I lost? How long until we could find a blade? Was this going to hurt? What could possibly hurt more than sticking a hot poker into the front of my shoulder?
“Were you?” He paused. “Shot or…?”
I nodded. “With an arrow,
and then I burned it with a hot poker to stop the bleeding.”
Both of their eyes widened.
“Damn.” Walsh appraised me with pride.
“Just do it quickly please,” I said through gritted teeth.
Walsh nodded. “Sawyer sent a morphine patch, but I’m afraid with your cuffs on it might hit you too hard, like it would a human, and you won’t be alert enough to—”
I shook my head. “Is there Tylenol?”
He reached into a small red canvas med bag and gave me two pills with a bottle of water. I greedily gulped them down.
“Want me to wait twenty minutes until it kicks in?” he asked.
I chuckled. Two Tylenol weren’t going to do shit for the feeling of being sewn up while awake. “No. Let’s just get it over with.”
He appraised me with pride and nodded.
Sage reached out her hands and clasped them with mine, looking up at my face. She smiled dryly. “You almost shot me. Where did you get the gun?”
I chuckled, welcoming the distraction when I felt Walsh’s cold hands pinch the skin in my back together. “Met a friend in Troll Village. She gave it to meahhhhhh—” I screamed as sharp shooting pain sliced through my shoulder. Sage’s hand yanked from mine and clamped it over my mouth as sweat beaded my brow.
“He’ll be quick. Just breathe through your nose,” Sage cooed with her hand still over my mouth.
Another sharp pain stabbed into my shoulder and I half screamed, half sobbed. I didn’t think it would hurt this bad, but I was so wrong. It was like getting a lip ring torn out and then getting it re-pierced the same day. Too many wounds in one already sensitive spot.
“I thought you were a Paladin with that blue paint,” Sage commented. “Did your troll friend help you with that too?” she asked as two more short stabs entered my shoulder.
I just nodded, unable to focus on what she was saying, trying to keep conscious and as quiet as possible. Talking about Arrow right now was not a good idea.
“Done,” Walsh said. “I’m going to put some disinfectant on it. Shouldn’t burn too bad since I’ve already closed it.”
Oh hell no. The word disinfectant always meant burn like a motherfucker. Sage’s hand tightened over my mouth as cold liquid washed over my shoulder and trickled down my back. It felt like someone had poured gasoline on my back and lit it on fire. I had no more strength to scream, so I just huffed and groaned into Sage’s hand while squeezing her other in a death grip.
Sawyer suddenly surged into my brain and I whimpered as the pain in my shoulder finally eased. ‘I fell asleep by accident. Why does it feel like you are being skinned alive! Talk to me, Demi!’ I lay forward on Sage’s lap, breathing in and out softly as she stroked my hair. I felt sick, like I was going to vomit.
“All done. You’re okay now.”
I couldn’t take any more pain, but I also couldn’t let Sawyer think I was dying.
‘Sage. Walsh. Stitches,’ was all I managed as the cuffs lit up and shocked my arms, causing me to whimper again.
‘Oh thank God! They found you! Demi, that’s amazing. I’m so sorry you’re hurting, but Walsh is a trained field medic. He will take good care of you while I can’t be there.’ There was relief and sadness in his voice. I knew as a pre-med student he was probably aching to do the stitches himself, but also that he just wanted to protect me.
“What the fuck was that!” Sage looked at the cuffs on my wrists with wide eyes.
I looked up at her, wondering if she really wanted to know. “Every time… I try to shift or do anything magical, including talking to Sawyer, it electrocutes me.”
Her eyes widened and she and Walsh shared a pitying look.
“Well, don’t do that anymore. He’ll be fine now that he knows you’re with us,” she assured me.
Walsh scoffed. “He won’t be fine until she’s in his arms and every last vampire in connection with her kidnapping is burned alive.”
I was about to respond when we all heard it. A twig snapped to the left and we all went stock still, not uttering a single word. The only sound that could be heard was the snapping of Walsh’s bones. He tore off his deer furs and shifted while I sat up from Sage’s lap and grabbed for my shotgun. Sage sprang into a standing position and pulled a giant katana sword from behind her. I’d never seen her actually protect anyone from harm. I mean, I knew she was studying security at Sterling Hill, but seeing her hold that katana in a crouched stance, I wondered how badass she would be in action.
Three cloaked figures stepped into the moonlight; dark hoods obscured their faces. I stood on wobbly feet and held my gun up, resting it on my good shoulder.
“We’re Paladin traders, just passing through. We don’t want trouble,” I told them as my thumb fidgeted with the hammers on the shotgun, only to find they were already cocked back from when I almost shot Sage.
One of them pulled back their hood and terror ripped through me. It was a woman. A woman with translucent pale skin and a network of… black glowing veins. It was hard to describe what I was looking at, but it wasn’t a person. It was a creature. She had the stereotypical pointed dark fey ears and black eyes, but everything else about her screamed something else.
“The demon speaks,” she said to her friends, and my blood went cold. That’s what the Ithaki called me.
My blood, they must smell whatever I am in my blood.
Walsh’s wolf peeled his lips back and gave a low growl, while Sage stepped in front of me protectively. The fey opened her mouth to speak, but instead of words, a black blob flew from her lips and opened like a net about to catch a fish.
What the fuck?
It was headed right for Sage, sickly black and… alive looking. As it arced through the air I could see it… moving. The rope in the netting was squirming.
I didn’t think, I just reacted. Stepping out from behind Sage, I jumped in front of her just as the net reached me. With a smack it slammed into me and molded around my form like shrink wrap, oozing onto my skin like a glove. A sickly feeling fell over me and I panicked, pulling the trigger of the shotgun. It blew out the tip of the net, which only caused the blackness to clamp down on me harder.
A hiss shattered the night air, and I looked out through the netting that was now over my face to see I’d blown the dark fey’s left arm clean off.
Score.
“Put your arms out like a starfish!” Sage barked at me randomly, and I did as she asked, wincing as the net clamped down and tried to force my arms at my side.
Sage pulled her katana and held it low, near my feet. I was confused until she brought it between my ankles and then sliced upward, shredding the net that held my legs.
“Nooo!” the fey shrieked and my gaze flicked to see her holding her bleeding shoulder stump, the place where I’d blown her arm clean off. But that didn’t seem to be what bothered her, because her gaze was on Sage cutting the net. She cried out in pain as if Sage hurting the net hurt her. The two other fey had been seemingly frozen in shock at my shotgun blast, but they now rushed forward and Walsh leapt from the shadows in wolf form, taking one of them down to the ground.
“Incoming!” I warned Sage of the fey running at us as she hacked away at the black net, trying to free my good hand, the one that held the shotgun.
She spun just in time to confront the black, hooded figure. He pulled a matte black sword, something I could barely see in the dying firelight, and they traded blows back and forth. I scrambled to free my arm and wiggle out of the squirming net, horrified to see that it left black trails of ink on my skin. That smell… was that blood? Was this net fucking made of dark fey blood?
Bile and panic rose up inside of me as I scrambled to reach into my jean’s pocket where I’d shoved a few shotgun shells. This fucking net was clinging to me like a squid, wet and suctioning, but my bigger worry was the one-armed bitch walking over to me with murder in her eyes.
I opened the gun with shaking fingers and shoved two shells inside, snapping it shut just as
she reached me.
Pulling the hammers back, I raised my arm, ready to blow her head off.
She looked at me, black blood spurting from her limbless shoulder, and grinned like a crazed maniac. Her teeth were razor sharp, and translucent. She was basically my worst nightmare. Why was she grinning at me? Maybe she wanted to die.
She took one more step and I pulled the trigger.
But nothing happened.
Panic surged inside of me as my gaze flicked to the gun for a millisecond to see the black net had crawled up my hand and was holding the hammers back.
Shit.
When I looked back at her, she was already too close. With a maniacal scream, she slammed into my chest and knocked me backward.
I could only think of one thing as I fell backward and my head cracked the ground: How is she still alive with one arm and bleeding like that?
Pain exploded in my skull, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Bitch was coming at me hard. This was life or death, fight or flight.
My wolf wanted free, she wanted to show this demon what we were capable of. But I would have to do instead. The dark fey barreled at me and I kicked both of my feet right into her stomach as she tried to crawl on top of me. She grunted as my feet rammed into her gut, and then crumpled to the ground as I pushed her backward.
I popped onto my knees, using the shotgun like a baseball bat and swinging, cracking her upside her temple. Then I tore the black netting away from the hammers and brought the barrel to her forehead.
Bye, bitch.
I pulled the trigger and the gun kicked back into my shoulder as the force of the weapon blasted into her face. Bits of her brain exploded onto the ground. My ears whined at the loud bang and I stepped back in case she was going to pull some Terminator shit and regrow a brain or something. When the black netting started to disintegrate and fall to the ground in ashes, I knew she was finally dead.
Looking up to see if Sage and Walsh needed help, I was relieved to see their kills on the ground as well. Both looked at me, wide-eyed. No way would I have survived all three of those dark fey without Sage and Walsh’s help. Thank God I’d run into them.
“Are all dark fey like that?” I asked them both as I tried to get my heartrate back to a normal rhythm.
