The line went dead.
“No, don’t hang up! Callie? Don’t leave me!”
But of course, Callie couldn’t hear her. Nobody could. Her spirit exploded in a hundred fragments, as if it was a real thing, a delicate piece of china thrown against a concrete wall. Skye lowered to the ground, throat burning from her terrified whimpering. The noise filled the basement’s oppressive, tomb-like silence. The chill of damp cement combined with the basement’s musty, moldy smell created a dismal effect. It was like being trapped in a coffin.
You have the power. Okay, she had done it once before, had managed to stave off Claribel’s attack, if only for a few minutes. For all she knew, those few minutes may have saved her life, or from suffering more permanent injuries. That psycho fairy had years of pent-up vengeance to unload on Skye before the Queen interrupted.
Her own shallow breathing was unnaturally loud. She touched the iron medallion on her chest and brought Kheelan’s face to her mind’s eye—the sharp planes of his cheeks, the full lips that rarely smiled in simple pleasure but were instead firmly clamped with determination.
She could be just as focused and determined. Too much was at stake to fail. Her breathing slowed to a normal rate as she concentrated on Kheelan’s face. This was the true value of the medallion. It offered little physical protection from the fae, but something more important. The promise of love, a happily-ever-after mortal tale of courage and strength.
As Rowena and Lawren’s daughter, she had fused within her DNA and psyche the skill of witchcraft and a wee bit of fairy magic. She turned her back to the window where the glowing Dark Fae eyes watched. Skye rubbed her palms together, activating their chakra centers to raise energy. She visualized a widening gap in the space between her wrists and shackles. The concentration was exhausting and trickles of sweat formed between her breasts and at the back of her neck. The air stirred around the cuffs as she manipulated the energy between them.
It could have been five minutes or it could have been an hour, but she knew when it was time. Skye stared at the cuffs and hopefully jiggled her right wrist. The space between skin and metal was noticeably wider, perhaps a precious inch. Careful not to accidentally tighten the restraints, she contorted her hand to slip through the metal prison.
Success. Skye grinned at her free hand and rapidly slipped the other out of the second handcuff. First obstacle overcome.
Skye studied the chain attached to her leg shackles and then looped over a concrete column, bound with a lock. She would have to pick that lock. She ran a hand through her tousled hair, hoping for a barrette or bobby pin in the tangled mess.
There wasn’t.
But there had to be something she could use to break loose. Something small and metal . . . the glint of her belt buckle shone in the moonlight, like a lucky talisman. Perfect. Methodically, she worked the metal prong in its center, back and forth, until it broke off. Skye inserted it into the padlock and twisted it around inside until it clicked and gave way. Mindful of a possible audience at the window, she gently lowered the chain to the floor, making as little noise as possible. At least she was untethered from the column and her hands were free.
No alarms or screeching erupted from the rear window. Skye hunkered in the dark shadows, hoping those glowing eyes outside the basement window weren’t nocturnal like a cat’s. She took the broken-off piece of metal and inserted it into one of the leg irons.
It wouldn’t give.
Damn it. She bit her lip from crying out and drawing attention.
Tears leaked from her eyes – part anger and part despair. She’d been so damn close to breaking free.
There must be something she could do. Skye ran through a dozen hopeless scenarios until she hit upon one that held a smidgeon of possibility. She would have to move fast. The guarding fairies would discover she was partly unfettered once she made her move. Step-by-step she plotted her course. Satisfied, she touched Kheelan’s medallion for courage.
Do it now.
Skye leapt to her feet, still shackled together, and hobbled over as quickly as possible to the back wall. A loud cry arose, like the screeching of a league of demons. She had tried to mentally prepare for the inevitable uproar but the wild, inhumane wailing paralyzed her a moment.
Move. There’s no going back. Whatever happened was better than being chained like a convict awaiting the electric chair. Skye shuffled to the far, left wall, switched on the light, and hurried to the storage area with its rows of metal shelves. There was a box of large, thick altar cloths on the bottom shelf of the third row. Her organized nature and memory for details had come in handy. She located the box, and grabbed a fistful of the material.
Would her wings still work? Claribel had singed them and her legs were heavy and immobilized from the chain and shackles. Skye gave a little test jump. It was difficult, but she could get airborne enough for the next step of her escape plan.
She flew to the back wall, straight to the window and the face of her enemies. Even knowing they wouldn’t try to come through the iron bars, Skye’s hands trembled as she tucked the altar cloths into the small space between the top bar and the edge of the cinderblock frame.
There. The makeshift curtain blocked them from seeing her next move. Skye flew down, scooped the dropped phone and flashlight off the floor, and then flew straight to the ceiling. Her back muscles strained with the effort it took to tote the heavy chain dangling from her feet. Grabbing an exposed wooden beam, she pulled herself up and searched for a way to move from the basement to the storefront.
She didn’t like what she found.
19
Samhain Dawns
Kheelan drove ninety miles an hour until he passed the Tuscaloosa City Limits sign. He slowed to within ten miles an hour of the speed limit. No time for cops. He flipped open the cell phone to check for a signal just as it rang.
“Kheelan?”
Relief loosened the tightness in his ribs. He hadn’t even noticed the hard knot lodged in his chest until he heard Skye’s voice and it untwisted. “Where are you? I’m on my way.”
“You’re not going to believe this—”
The knot fisted in his chest again.
“I’m in the basement of The Green Fairy. You don’t happen to have any leg shackle keys, do you?”
He listened, white-knuckled, as Skye gave him what he was sure was an abbreviated version of her night’s ordeal.
“—so, the only way I see out of here is a tiny crawlspace where the heating vent is housed. And I really, really don’t want to go in there.”
“After being stung by a fairy taser, threatened with death and shackled in a dark room, you’re afraid to go through a crawlspace?”
“There might be mice in it.”
Kheelan grinned despite the circumstances. “I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic. I’m about ten minutes away and I’ve still got the extra set of keys to the store you gave me. I’ll come get you out of the basement.”
“But the Unseelies will be guarding the door out front and they’re keeping watch at the basement window too.”
“I’ll find a way. We’re going to have to walk through that front door no matter what.” She had been through enough tonight, he had to make this work.
“No.” Skye sounded stronger now, more decisive. “I know where Claribel keeps all her keys. I’ll get in her office and see if she has any to get these chains off my ankles.”
“That’s doubtful. But even if she does, we’re still going to have to make a run out that door. I can carry you to the truck and once we’re out of their sight, I’ll figure out some way to get the shackles off you.”
“Actually, you’re wrong,” Skye said slowly. “I keep thinking like a grounded human. I have a better plan. Just—keep talking to me. I’m going through the crawlspace.”
Skye ignored the icky feeling of spider webs coating her face and hair. Harder to block out was the sound of scampering mice. One scurried across her foot and she almost choked on a s
wallowed scream. Mercifully, it didn’t take long before she poked her head out of the small opening. She turned off the flashlight, whispered her plan to Kheelan, and then pocketed the cell phone in her jeans.
The store was dimly lit and quiet. A quick glance at the windows showed nothing but darkness, no glowing goblin eyes. Hard to believe they weren’t out there though. Best to proceed as if they were.
Skye flew down and kept low to the ground, making a dash to Claribel’s office. Inside, she shut the door and used her flashlight to rummage through the top desk drawer. Out of the dozens of keys, she fished out a couple of promising smaller ones.
At last, luck was with her. The second key fit and she shed the chains and turned off the flashlight. There was one more window in the store, a small one on the side of the building by the kitchen where Mama D washed dishes. Skye opened it as quietly as possible, her heart hammering. At the last second, she grabbed Mama D’s black knit hat from a nearby coat tree and stuffed her mass of red curls inside.
She didn’t hear Kheelan’s truck but if he wasn’t already here, he would be soon. She climbed out the window, flew to the top of the roof and flattened herself on the shingles. Skye buried her face in her hands, expecting to hear a great swoosh as a thousand Unseelies swooped her away.
Silence. Skye removed her hands and peeked around. The glowing eyes were still by the basement windows, but none looked up at the roof. Across the street, more of the creatures crowded in a tree, but their eyes stayed focused on the shop’s front window and door. Thankfully, no cars or people were nearby. Skye punched in Kheelan’s number and lifted the cell phone to her mouth.
“You there?” she whispered.
“I’m on MacFarland, about to turn onto 15th Street.”
“The store’s surrounded. You know where the Bama Rammer Deli is on 15th?”
“Yeah, but—”
“I’ll meet you there.” She cut him off before he could raise any more objections. Here goes nothing. Skye pushed off the roof and flew. A gust of wind blew off the black hat as she flew over rooftops. That didn’t help. Her stream of red hair would be a flaming beacon to the Dark Fae.
Kheelan stared, amazed, when Skye flew into view. He had seen his share of fairies, but none quite like her. He was torn between amusement, fear for her safety, and relief that she’d shown up.
She landed abruptly, legs stumbling at the newness. Kheelan’s amusement faded with the rumbling of phoukas in the distance. He started the truck and blinked his headlights to signal his whereabouts. Leaning over, he pulled open the passenger side door. “Hurry, trouble’s coming.”
Skye climbed in and he hit the accelerator before she even closed the door.
“I heard them too, they’re getting closer. They’ve caught on that I escaped.”
Her face was solemn and pale. He wanted to gather her in his arms and hold her close for a long, long time. Kheelan pulled her roughly to his side and gave her a quick, fervent kiss on the cheek. That would have to do for now. “We can outrun them,” he assured Skye, although he wasn’t positive that was true. He navigated through the near-abandoned downtown area as fast as he could without drawing attention.
Her eyes flittered nervously between the front and side windows. “Maybe they don’t know we’re in this truck.”
He said nothing.
“Where are we going? I don’t think my apartment is a good idea and I’m sure neither of us wants to hang out with your Guardian.”
Kheelan checked the dashboard clock. Three a.m.
Skye clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She dug out her phone and punched a number. “Callie,” she mouthed at him. She frowned at the phone. “She was so anxious for me to call and now she’s not picking up.”
“It is three in the morning,” he said after she left a message.
Skye laid the phone on the console. “Where did you say we were going?”
“I didn’t.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Truth is, I don’t know. But if we don’t hear from—” A large thump landed on top of the truck. Kheelan looked up. “What the –”
“For the love of the goddess.” Skye grabbed his arm, her fingers digging into his biceps.
Cops were the least of his worries. Kheelan accelerated and fishtailed the truck back and forth across the road, hoping to shake off whatever had caught up to them. Something large and gray rolled over the hood of the truck, its impact shattering the front windshield. Even with the safety glass, some shards exploded inward, cutting their faces.
Kheelan shoved Skye to the floorboard. “Stay down.”
The thing, whatever it was, continued rolling and fell off on the passenger side of the truck. He swerved to avoid hitting it. Kheelan slowed to get a quick look; it appeared more animal than human, with a grayish-green body the size of a wild boar, and a horn protruding from its forehead. The thing wobbled up on two legs and stared back at him. Despite the maroon color of its eyes, they betrayed an intelligence and predatory gleam that was definitely not that of an animal. It was bad Fae all right. Kheelan sped off, relieved to see the thing wasn’t traveling in a herd.
He wiped his face, sending pinpricks of pain as bits of glass scraped deeper in his cheeks and forehead. At least his eyes were spared and he could keep driving. “You okay?” he asked anxiously, seeing blood on Skye’s face.
“Okay. You?”
“Fine.” The air blasted his face. Freezing. Which wasn’t all bad, the numbing effect kept the facial abrasions from burning. He shoved on a pair of sunglasses from the console to keep his eyes from watering.
Skye clamored back in her seat. “Oh man, this truck is totaled.”
The hood was smashed in the middle, and the passenger side crimped in. The right headlight was dead.
“At least it’s still running,” Kheelan said.
Smoke rose out of the engine and it gave an ominous hiss, followed by the telltale high-pitched careening of a slipped belt. He slammed his hands on the steering wheel. “Just what we needed.”
They were on the outskirts of town surrounded by more trees than buildings.
“Maybe we should go to my apartment if your truck can make it that far.”
Kheelan swore softly. They were closer to Skye’s place than his, so it was the best option. He did an abrupt U-turn. “Guess so. The Unseelies will by lying in wait, but so will the Seelies. They know what’s happening by now. We’ll run for cover while they battle it out.”
Two blocks from the apartment, the truck gave one last careening death knell and sputtered to a stop.
Kheelan drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and Skye shot him a questioning look.
“I wonder if we would be safer staying inside this hunk of metal and waiting for the Fae— good or bad—to find us again.”
Skye opened the door. “I vote for getting out. It’s freezing, I’m hungry, and I’m dying for a hot bath.”
Kheelan caught up with her and threw his coat over her shoulders, covering up her exposed wings. In the distance, they heard an unnatural honking, as if the sky were covered by low-flying geese. They stopped and looked up in the night sky, but none were visible. Kheelan grabbed her hands and tugged urgently. “Let’s go.”
He held her hand and started forward, but she stumbled behind. “My knee. Claribel zapped me there.”
Kheelan scooped her up in his arms and ran. His lungs burned in the frosty air. The noise was even louder than before and the full moon cast ominous shadows in their path. He didn’t slow down to see what caused them.
A loud fluttering of wings came at them from behind. He dropped to the ground, shielding Skye’s body beneath his own. Something with sharp claws ripped through the flesh on his back in a long swiping motion from his neck to the top of his jeans.
Agony.
Kheelan fought to stay conscious and protect Skye. He was dizzy and disoriented. Skye screamed and the noise sounded far away. He fought through his black haze of pain, seeking her.
Skye was at least twenty feet below him.
I must be in shock. Some sort of optical illusion maybe? He twisted his neck and saw giant claws wrapped around his belt. He was being carried skyward. An overpowering stench of decaying flesh made it difficult to breath.
Sluagh. And where there was one, more would follow.
That honking noise in the sky they heard earlier was a host of sluaghs, spirits of the dead that traveled by air after sunset. The most feared, most powerful of the Unseelie Court fairies. He had only seen them a few times before, and always from afar. They traveled in great swarms and often fought each other, littering blood on the rocks and soil beneath.
Kheelan didn’t try to see its face. He had heard stories of their bloodshot eyes, evil leers and a sharp intelligence that could pick your brain apart quicker than their giant beaks could break your bones. That intelligence could pierce through glamours and illusions to your very soul, pinpointing your hidden secrets and greatest vulnerability.
There, in the clutches of the Dark Fae’s most evil creature, Kheelan knew his greatest weakness. Knew the one thing he loved above all else. And it wasn’t his freedom.
He stared down at the rapidly disappearing spot of red that was Skye’s hair. For a second, he saw her staring up at him, huge eyes full of despair set against the alabaster skin of her face. She raised a hand, beckoning him to come back to her.
If only he could.
The rustling wings of sluaghs signaled more approaching. One, faster than the others, was headed straight toward Skye. Her eyes were aimed upwards at him and she didn’t see the predator.
Kheelan yelled a warning and pointed – but it was too late and he was too far away. The sluagh was upon her.
Their unyielding evil sucked the light around him until the night engulfed his soul.
Changeling: An Appalachian Magic Novel Book 2 (Appalachian Magic Series) Page 19
