Shadow of the Fae (The Fae Chronicles Book 1)

by Valia Lind

  He comes at me, but I'm ready. Twisting around, I bring my battle magic to my fingertips, and I slam it right into him. He screams again, but this time the momentum carries him backward. I hear a crunch as his body's momentum is stopped by a tree. From what I can see, he doesn't look like one of the three who are fighting Derek. That works in my favor. I spin again, trying to find where he went. I see him once again on the ground, his face and body bruised from repeatedly slamming into it.

  I can taste the men's magic at the tips of my tongue. It tastes strong and wrong somehow. I see them revving up once more, their arms raised. They're only a few feet away from Derek. There's no way I can reach him in time. I stumble up the side of the road. They snap their palms forward again. I scream.

  I thrust my hands out, still on my knees as the sound rips out of my throat. Magic bursts out of my hands. Sudden wind pushes my hair back as I pour all of my power into this one motion. My mind goes blank, then clears in a matter of a split second. Wind and magic dance around me in a whirlpool as I bleed myself dry. Pure power pours out of me, one hundred percent focused on the three men.

  Once it reaches them, there is nothing to be done.

  Disappear.

  Disappear.

  Disappear.

  They disintegrate in front of my eyes.

  The moment they're gone, I pull back. My magic snaps into me like a rubber band. I drop to all fours, breathing heavily as I try to understand what just happened. That felt nothing like my battle magic, yet somehow, I know it was. My body feels tired yet alive.

  I raise my head, my eyes finding Derek. Pushing myself forward, I reach him just as he's reaching for me. He looks like he's been through a battle, bruises and cuts and torn clothes.

  "Are you okay?" I ask, my fingers roaming the sides of his face carefully.

  "I'll live." He coughs and then looks up at me once again.

  “Avery—"

  "What?" I ask, alarmed immediately. But he's not staring behind me. He's staring at me. More importantly, at my hair. He reaches up, pulling a strand forward. I can't believe what I'm seeing.

  "Your hair is green."

  I get Derek back to the car, which surprisingly still works. Then I drive us back to the cabin. Neither one of us is ready to face anyone in Faery looking the way we do. I'm bruised, but I'm much better off than Derek. He took the brunt of the attack, giving me the time to deal with my assailant. He looks exhausted and more human than I've ever seen him. Even his glamour has flickered a few times, and I've seen the ears pop out again.

  There isn't much I can do for him, except clean his cuts and let him rest. Fae heal faster than witches, although not as fast as shifters. My own body is already in recovery mode, one perk of having a wolf shifter for a mother. Even though I have no shifter powers and have never shifted, I do have the slightly accelerated healing gene. It has come in handy since all of this started.

  "We're here," I say, when I finally pull up at the cabin. It shows how out of it Derek is because he visibly jerks awake at my words.

  "It's probably not the safest move," he manages as I help him out of the car.

  "We'll be safe for tonight," I state, believing every word. I hope that adds to the magic of this place.

  When we make it inside, Derek stumbles enough that I place his arm over my shoulder and guide him to the bathroom. He's not a water fae, but since the water comes from the lake, it'll be a solid connection to the nature around us. I've never seen anyone so beat up by magic before, but that's the only description I can come up with. Whoever those men were, they carry with them an incredible amount of power.

  "Hey, I need to get these cleaned," I say, depositing Derek onto the toilet. The cuts on his face and arms are still bleeding a little. I have no idea how his body would react to infection or even if he can get regular people infection. But he doesn't protest, so I do the only thing I know to do. I reach for one of the smaller towels and soap and begin cleaning his cuts. We have no medicine in the house because why would we? But this gives me a sense of peace, as if I'm actually making a difference.

  Derek leans his head back against the wall, as I lean over him to wipe at the blood on his face. His eyes open, catching mine. Suddenly, I can't seem to think. He's so close, my legs straddling one of his, my face inches away from him. His guard is down. There is so much pain in his eyes, it grips my heart.

  "Thank you," he mumbles, disarming me completely. Fae don't thank. They would never utter such words without consequence. But he does, and he directs them at me.

  "Hmm," I reply because I have no idea what to say. Then, Derek's hands fall on my hips. I freeze, wondering what I'm supposed to be feeling here. I understand the array of emotions going through me. I can’t act on them, but I understand them. My mind races with possibilities. But he doesn't do anything, just holds himself upright as I finish working on his face.

  "Let's get you in the shower," I say next, stepping back. He nods, but when he reaches for his shirt, I see it's a struggle. Carefully, I step back into his personal space and pull it gently over his head. His chest is magnificent, even with bruises. I try not to stare. I have to be professional about this. When I reach for his pants, his hand closes over mine.

  "You don't have to," he mumbles. I'm not sure if he's protecting me or himself, but I'm grateful. We've already crossed too many boundaries. Instead, I wrap his arm around my shoulders again, helping him stand. Then, we step into the shower. Turning the water on, I don't have to wait for it to be the perfect temperature. He leans forward, his head against the tiles, gripping the top of the shower. I leave him be. There's something vulnerable in that pose, and I feel like I'm intruding.

  Going to my own room, I get into the shower. I'm much better off than Derek. The cuts are mostly superficial. While I'm dirty, I'm not as hurt as he is. My heart hurts thinking of how much damage his body sustained. For him to be this hurt, the magic those men displayed had to have been astronomical.

  Once I'm clean and dressed in my t-shirt and leggings combo, I take a moment to study my hair. There are green strands throughout, brighter than I've ever seen. I've colored my hair before in purples and rose gold, just to see. I would think this is my magic messing with what's already there, but it looks different. Bright and right, somehow.

  Leaving my hair to air dry, I head downstairs and curl up on the couch. There is nothing for me to do but wait. After about ten minutes, I get up and make tea, bringing it with me to the couch when done. A part of me wants to go check on him, but I hear some movement and let him be. There's not much I can do anyway. He might not even come down. Maybe he needs time to himself. But then that thought is shattered when I hear footsteps on the stairs.

  Turning, I see him make his way to me. He changed. His hair is still damp from the shower, but he looks a little better. He takes a seat opposite of me without a word. After a few seconds, I jump up and head to the kitchen. I return with a fresh mug of tea. He accepts it with a simple nod.

  We stay like that for a while, sharing the same couch on two opposite ends of the "L" shape. I don't bombard him with questions, and he doesn't provide any information. We sip our tea and watch the flames dance. Somehow, it's exactly what we both need.

  "I couldn't use my magic."

  At first, I don't think I hear him right. When I glance up, his eyes are still on the fire.

  "I couldn't do anything. It was as if they sucked my powers dry, and I was only left this... shell."

  The desire to go to him is strong, but I don't think he'd welcome it right now. He's a powerful being who was made to feel powerless. He doesn't need my pity. So, I don't offer it.

  He doesn't speak again, and I don't push him. I let him know with my presence that I'm here for him.

  For right now, it's enough.

  Chapter 15

  There's a feeling of claustrophobia that surrounds me, except, when I look around, I'm in a forest. Once again, I have no idea how I got here. That automatically makes me remember that
's how my dreams have been. When I reach out to touch the bark on the tree to my right, it feels too real to be in my head.

  The confusion intensifies as I try to search for any direction or sign in the darkness. Much like the last time I found myself in this predicament, there is nothing but the fear that eats up at me from every direction. I can't tell if it's the Ancients doing this or the fae. It's as if they have created a personal torture chamber for me, and they keep dumping me in it any time they please.

  My body hums with anticipation as I try to prepare myself for whatever may come next. Assuming this is a dream is dangerous, but I have nothing else to go on. There's always a possibility they have finally dragged me to wherever they are, and now I'm getting punished for taking so long. Or tortured for information.

  I call on my magic to see if it's there. It flickers a few times and then goes dormant. The panic intensifies, making it hard for me to breathe. I try to find a way to focus, but the trees seem to be closing in, making it near impossible.

  Then, a pain, sharp and precise hits me in my back.

  I stumble forward, barely catching myself so I don't face-plant against a tree. Something warm runs down my back. When my fingers find it, I realize it's blood. Another hit comes from the right, sending me to the ground. My whole side is torn now, blood gushing everywhere.

  Holding the shirt tightly around my torso, I try to stop the blood flow as I scoot backward. The darkness feels heavier somehow, as if there is someone standing right on the other side of it, pressing down on me.

  I will not die here.

  I will not die here.

  I will not die here.

  The repetition in my mind helps to focus me. At least, somewhat. I have to think.

  Think instead of react.

  My back hits the base of the tree, and I lean against it gratefully. Looking down at my torso, I try to see if I can stop the blood or if I can tell the extent of the injury, but it's too dark. That's when I realize I can see something.

  Glancing up, I watch as the path I made with my blood once again turns into plants, this time it’s flowers blooming. They're large, the size of watermelons at least, and glowing. I stare at them, completely mesmerized. How can something so beautiful come from something so horrible?

  The pain in my body intensifies, snapping me out of my daze. Can you die in a dream?

  But I don't even know if it is a dream. It feels real. Everything about it feels real, including the blood leaving my body.

  I force my legs to obey me as I push against the tree to stand. Then I drop back down at the agony I feel.

  That was stupid. I have to be smart. I have to—

  I have to be smart. I have to be logical.

  But then, another sharp pain goes through me. I slump down, unable to do much but force my lungs to take in air. The ground I lay on is soaked through with my blood and covered in flowers. If this is how I die, at least it looks beautiful.

  No.

  Whatever this torture is, it’s not real. I am in control of my life. I am in control of my decisions. I decide that I will not die here.

  I will not die here.

  I will not die here.

  I will not die here.

  I look for a focus point I can reach for, putting all my attention on it. Then, I pull myself from the dream.

  I sit up, covered in sweat, my heart's beating fills my ear. My body is in agony. I run my hands over my skin but come away with no blood. Rubbing my face, I push away my hair that has stuck to my damp skin. My heart is still pounding. I’m still terrified. But I got out. That’s all that matters.

  Glancing up, I’m not surprised to find Derek’s outline in the doorway. Light from the moon makes him look like he's glowing. We stare at each other, him bruised and me broken, two unlikely people thrust into an unimaginable situation.

  After a few moments, I scoot to one side of the bed before pulling the blanket up on the other. I lay down, watching Derek. I can see the second he makes the decision. Walking over to the bed, he lays down beside me with only a few inches of space between us. I tug my part of the blanket under my chin, studying his profile as he stares at the ceiling.

  We don’t speak because words aren’t necessary. I’ll tell him about my dream tomorrow, and we’ll figure it out then. Right now, we both need this—whatever this is. Maybe we just both need to not feel so alone.

  With that thought on my mind, I close my eyes and finally sleep.

  Sometime in the night, his hand has found mine. Our fingers are entwined, my hand is resting on his chest, held closely to his heart.

  I don't move just yet, giving myself this moment of tranquility. Without a doubt, my life is about to take another huge tumble into the unknown. I steal another peek at Derek, at the way his whole body is relaxed for the first time since I've met him. He looks younger, like most people do when they're not carrying the fate of their realm on their shoulders.

  Sometimes I feel like that's how Derek thinks. That if something would happen, it would be his fault.

  I feel like that too.

  Needing to put some distance between us, I go to extract my hand. He stops me. It’s just a gentle squeeze, as if to keep me in place. I look up to see if he's awake, but his breathing hasn't changed. He did so in his sleep, and that brings a strange feeling to my chest. I move to scoot over when a sharp pain resonates at my back.

  "Avery?" Derek's eyes are open and on me as I retrieve my hand. I run it over my side.

  "Strange pain, that's all," I say, but then the dream comes back full force, and I wonder if something is wrong.

  "May I?" he asks, and I nod.

  Turning to the side, I let Derek pull my shirt up. I know the moment he sees something. There's a stillness and then his fingertips run gently over my skin. I shudder at the touch, goosebumps racing over my skin as he explores carefully.

  "There are marks, like claw marks," he finally says. My mind is once again in the dream with the blood gushing out. I'm screaming in pain. My mind is filled with the sound of my pain, and my chest squeezes in response.

  "Hey, Avery. It's okay. You're okay."

  I'm hyperventilating, I can tell because I've read about it. Derek doesn't try anything, but sits besides me, repeating the phrase over and over. I force my mind to find its center, focusing on his soft voice. After a few minutes, I'm me again.

  "It was the dream, wasn't it?"

  "It doesn't look like much of dream though," I say, pushing past him so I can get off the bed. Heading straight for the bathroom, I turn the light on and pull up my shirt to see the damage. Just like in my dream, the mark I can see starts right below my armpit and goes down to my hips. When I turn slightly, I can see the ending of another mark that feels like it goes across my whole back.

  "What did this?" I ask, meeting Derek's gaze in the mirror. He followed me into the bathroom.

  "I don't know. A dream wraith would be my top guess. They can be enchanted to hurt those whose dreams they occupy."

  "But it can also be other things," I say, knowing full well there are a lot of options for evil in the world. It doesn't matter what it is. I couldn't fight it either way.

  "We need to get going," I say, dropping my shirt to my waist and turning to face Derek. I can see he doesn't like that, but he's not about to protest. His eyes shift up to my hair and the strands of green that now occupy about half of it. Then, after a firm nod, he turns and walks out of the bathroom.

  With him gone, I grab my clothes and shut the door to change. The pain from the cuts is fading, but it does make me wonder what else I'll be encountering in my dreams. And if these will stop when I'm in Faery. With jeans and a t-shirt on, I brush my hair, braiding it down my back. Interestingly enough, I like the green. It matches my eyes and suits me somehow.

  We grab a cup of coffee and breakfast in silence and then we're off.

  There is a possibility that this is the worst idea of my whole entire life. Derek doesn't like it, and that's putting it mild
ly. He's been in a mood since I told him my decision is final. Granted, he could refuse to take me. But I think we both know that won't actually stop me.

  I would find another way. And he would like that even less. After the events of yesterday, we've been put into a tight spot. Both of us.

  It's not as if I'm enjoying this either. I'm willingly surrendering myself to the very creatures I've been running from. That feels like failure to me.

  But this is not about me. I've been selfish for way too long already. If the fae can teach me how to use this power, then they are my best chance at survival.

  "You're still set on this?" Derek asks as we make our way the car. He won't portal out of here because he wants to keep this place a secret. But it's like he's giving me every opportunity to back out. I can't tell if he's nervous for me or for himself. We’ve spent this whole time together, and I still don't know where he truly stands. I only know that he risked his life to save me.

  I glance back at the cabin as I reach the car. I'd be lying if I said I'm not going to miss it. This place gave me a sense of normalcy I so desperately needed. It was like a calm before the storm. The moment I get into the car, everything changes.

  "Let's get going," I say, pulling the passenger door open.

  Derek gets behind the wheel, and in silence, steers the car down to the rental place. Seems as good of a place as any to ruin my life.

  Okay, maybe I'm being a tad dramatic, but I think I'm allowed under the circumstances. Never much appreciated myself when I'm emotional, and I've been emotional a lot lately.

  It's time to put my game face one. Truth be known, I have no idea what to expect.