Once Upon A Curse: 17 Dark Faerie Tales

by Yasmine Galenorn

  “We’ve got a body on Haywood. Hate to drag you from the party, but your presence is needed.”

  Chapter 8

  Blood was still dripping from his hand, fallen men around him, some on their knees in fealty, others broken in punishment for their disobedience.

  How had she ever thought him gentle? This being in front of her was a mockery of the word.

  “It was for you.”

  “No.”

  “All for you.”

  “Don’t put that on me!”

  Free air was supposed to taste sweet. She’d dreamed of it for so long, stared at the stars through rusted metal and tangled thoughts. It wasn’t supposed to come from this. He wasn’t supposed to be like this.

  It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

  It wasn’t supposed to cost her this.

  “Don’t put that on me.”

  Chapter 9

  Kenna dragged herself into her apartment, battered in ways she hadn’t been since first getting tossed into jail. Forget one-two punch. Last night had been a cage match of epic proportions, each round KO’ing her, after which someone roused her enough to throw her into another round.

  The scene had taken all night to process, and as was getting too damn familiar, no witnesses could be found, and nothing obvious gave any type of hint to what the murderer was after.

  There just weren’t any similarities, with the only exception the vagueish “undesirables” were being murdered. Sure, working girls were part of that mix, but so were pickpockets, rapists, money launderers, and drug dealers. Even the methods varied, going from bloody and brutal to professional looking.

  The precinct was splitting into two groups – those who believed it was one person versus those who argued multiple people, and with that belief came the argument of either some sort of collective or some number of loners taking advantage of the chaos.

  For right now, though, she was done thinking of it. She needed sleep, and the case would have to wait.

  Kenna barely hit the pillow before her phone rang beside her. The curse was only muffled because of the layers of fabric and feathers, but Kenna pulled her head up and answered. “Hello?...Yuki?”

  Never had Tori appeared younger than now, swaddled in bandages and laying so still on the hospital bed. Yuki sat still, as cold and untouchable as snow seen from a window, all rage subsumed by icy vengeance.

  “It was Almos. I didn’t think he’d choose her or I would have told Tori to leave earlier.” Yuki’s words held no heat. They were punched out, a recitation of mere facts.

  “Does Almos use your services often?”

  “He has certain tastes. A couple girls can handle them, but most stay away. I try to send him elsewhere when I can, but Tori didn’t know. That’s probably why he chose her, because she was new.”

  The beeps of the hospital machine were the only things that suggested Tori was still alive underneath everything. “Does he always do so much damage?”

  The first sign of emotion crossed Yuki’s face, a smirk that housed no humor. “I reminded her to shut her mouth with clients, but he began with her, and she…she mentioned you. At least, that’s what the note said.”

  The note. Twelve words. Tell Morgan this is what I think of people using her name.

  Yuki’s fingers flickered, an aborted movement mimicking the holding of a cigarette. “Will you do anything?”

  It wasn’t an idle question. There was intent amidst the words. There was demand. There was a line, and it wanted to know which side of that line Kenna would stand.

  “I don’t do that.”

  The smirk grew colder, something which seemed impossible not ten seconds before. “You are his, and all your words and your actions, they’re a false balm to your conscience, a lie you can tell yourself to pretend you’re not part of it.”

  “I’m not.” She wasn’t. The time she spent in jail proved that.

  Yuki rolled her eyes, and now she did reach into her bag and grab a cigarette, though so far she refrained from lighting it. “You rely on his protection and his power. But as long as you don’t use the words, you can pretend how innocent you are. How wonderful. You remain untouched, while everyone around you becomes more vulnerable. Luckily, this,” and Yuki waved her hand over the prone figure in the bed, the figure barely breathing and barely moving, “isn’t your problem.”

  And as Kenna bent under the weight of the words, Yuki smashed her cigarette into the table, as if it had been lit and she was now putting it out.

  “Go. We don’t need you here.”

  Chapter 10

  In the evening light, the mayoral mansion was lit like a beacon. Such a lie. Beacons were supposed to be welcoming, show the way for truth, show how to make things whole, make things right.

  Kenna strode up the stairs, and as expected, a guard stood in front of her before she reached the stairs.

  He’d been in the office that day. He still radiated danger, but now his neck was bent to her, his eyes holding no challenge. Kenna asked, “You know who I am?”

  “Only those as sheltered as Almos don’t know you.”

  Without any other words she pushed past him. He didn’t hinder her; instead, he followed at her back, no more words, signaling any others who came to let her pass.

  A woman was in the bedroom when Kenna punched open the door, giving a small screech and pulling away from the Mayor, who was still dressed, though on the way to not being so.

  “Get out and thank me for that.” The cold rage in Kenna’s voice filled the room, and without a second look, the woman grabbed at her items and ran.

  Veins bulged at Almos’s temple, bright red running up his skin to cover his face. “You think you can come in here-”

  “You listen to me.” The ice tone of her voice affected something in him, because while the red was still spreading over his body, it stopped any further words. Kenna continued. “There will be reparations. You are going to give me one of your best men as payment, someone in your top level. You say goodbye and start figuring out how to replace him, because he’s going to be gone for a very long time. You never touch any working girl within the city limits, ever again.”

  Almos found his voice. “I don’t listen to whores, which is all you are, badge or not.”

  In response, Kenna went over to the nightstand and dialed a number, putting the ringing phone on speaker.

  The other end picked up before the second ring. “Yes Mayor Almos?”

  “This is Detective Kenna Monroe. Get me the Senator.”

  A long moment of silence, and then the female voice went, “Please wait.”

  Almos lunged, but he was stopped by his hired hand, the bigger man holding back the Mayor. Almos’s betrayed, dumbfounded expression would have been comical in other circumstances. “How dare you-”

  “Detective.” The brisk, cold tones Senator Almos came over the speaker.

  Without introduction, Kenna said, “I’m going to let your brother explain the situation, and tell you what I expect in return. He has ten minutes to give me his reply.” With that, she left the room to go downstairs, to wait in the Office of the Mayor, an office which would see Almos as its occupant for a number of years still.

  Almos arrived with two minutes to spare, ashen faced and shaking, though doing his best to put on a front. “Tomorrow morning an anonymous tip will be called in about a man named Manuel Garcia and a large collection of drugs. Once at his house, there will be enough other findings to make sure Manuel stays in jail for a very long time. Police will find him blacked out at another crime scene.”

  Garcia rang a bell, though she couldn’t place him exactly. She’d done her best to avoid politics for so long. Still, the mere fact she knew the name meant he fulfilled the requirement. “How much of the evidence will be true?”

  “At least eighty percent.”

  Not that she’d ever be able to sort out which crimes were Garcia’s and which were using Garcia as a handy excuse. No doubt Garcia would be dead in
a month, and the part that saddened her most was how accepting she was of that knowledge. “And my other condition?”

  Almos curled his lip at her in a show of impotent challenge, but he answered. “Never again.”

  As she walked out the door, she threw over her shoulder, “I shall see you tomorrow at city hall, Your Honor.”

  In the midst of the city gardens, the statue of a prince and princess dancing made a charming picture. The spot was popular for proposals for that very reason. Considering how late it was, Kenna doubted she’d run into an erstwhile couple as she sat on the bench, enjoying the uncomplicated romanticism and gorgeous blooms.

  Her phone rang, and answering it was automatic. “Morgan.”

  “I hear you’ve made a possible enemy tonight.”

  His voice was roughened velvet, scraping and soothing every nerve. “I seem to have that ability. I also tend to make friends on a regular basis as well. Sometimes both at the exact same time.”

  He gave a small chuckle, a rasp of humor that still made pleasure curl through her. “Truly a gift.”

  His voice was in her ear after such a long time, and all fight fell away. She wrapped herself around the sound, wallowed in the safety his low tones produced in her.

  “I have your pictures. You are always beautiful, but you are a goddess in that shoot.”

  Kenna refused to acknowledge the heat that rose to her cheeks at the compliment. “Thank you for your contribution to Children’s Hospital. The kids appreciate it I’m sure.”

  “You might be surprised to find that the photographer did not show you all the pictures he took.”

  Kenna swore softly. “Should have known. What exactly of mine was shown?”

  If his usual rough tones were seductive to her, now his deepened voice had her biting her tongue to keep from panting. “More than you would have wanted to be captured. Less than what I would have liked to see.”

  It took three swallows to bring enough moisture to her mouth and throat to speak again. “And what did you do?”

  “I told him he has a singular talent, and that if such a situation were to ever happen again, a blind photographer can’t make a living. There is no need to let your colleagues know these ever existed. I promise they’ve been destroyed.”

  “And mine?”

  “As I said…I have your pictures.”

  “And you’ll never let them go, will you?”

  “…I think you know the answer to that.”

  Note from Danielle Monsch: Peoples! Thanks for reading Beast inside the Beauty, the first story in my Grimm Nights series.

  While I’ll write more of this series in the future, at the moment I have other stories that need to be finished and released before I can continue in this world. Please subscribe to my email list for any future news.

  If you enjoyed my writing and like modern takes on more fantastical settings, please consider reading my Entwined Realms world, which is contemporary fantasy. If you like Fairie Tales no matter the setting, please check out my Fairy Tales and Ever Afters series. Find all my books at AMAZON.

  About the Author

  Born to the pothole-ridden streets of Pittsburgh, PA, Danielle Monsch started writing in a time long ago, a time when there were not enough vampire stories to read and she had to write her own to fill the void. Yes, such a time of darkness did indeed exist.

  Danielle calls herself a Romantic Geek, and that sums up both her personality and her writing. In terms of content, she’s drawn to the fantastical – Vampires and Werewolves and Demons and Angels, Sword & Sorcery, Fairy Tales, Updated Mythologies and the like. In terms of content, she needs love and romance (with some hubba-hubba!) somehow and in some amount mixed into the story…even if the story also has battles, bloodshed, and a decapitation or two.

  Basically it’s all the good stuff in life, delivered to your door (or your ereader).

  Go to www.DanielleMonsch.com for one-stop shopping with everything to do with Danielle. Join her Mailing List (highly encouraged as that is the best, fastest, and easiest way to get all info related to Dani and her books) or if you’d rather, she’s at the usual Social Media hangouts such as Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, and Pinterest. Just want to send an email? Easy enough, that’s Dani@DanielleMonsch.com.

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  Other Works

  ENTWINED REALMS

  Modern-Day Fantasy, where Sword & Sorcery and Romance Meet

  There Are No Dragons…Are There?

  Stone Guardian – From the Shadows He Watches Over Her

  Stone Embrace – In the New Realms, Love can be the Most Dangerous Battle of All...

  The Cage King – He Will Claim Victory

  The Rooftop – Only the Stars as Witness

  The Dream Crafter – Reality is Optional

  Nemesis Underground – Everything Eventually Happens Here

  Slightly Twisted and Very Sassy takes on Fairy Tales

  Loving a Fairy Godmother – Don’t Fairy Godmothers deserve a little lovin’ too?

  Loving an Ugly Beast – Can’t an Ugly Beast get a little lovin’ here?

  Loving a Prince Charming – When you are Prince Charming, everyone wants a little lovin’ from you.

  Faescorned - Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  Faescorned

  A Tale of the Otherworld

  A cold, saturated breeze swept down the grassy slope, arriving from the east and setting off a chatter of disquiet through my army of faelah.

  “Silence!” I hissed, whipping around to ensure they held their ground. “They will be here shortly, and then, you will be too busy to worry about Eile’s discontent.”

  The noise lessened, but their unease did not. I turned back around to face the hills in the near distance, my eyes narrowed and my impatience growing. Dawn was not far off, the cloud-darkened sky paling enough to make out the shapes of the monsters forming a semicircle behind me. Ten minutes went by, then ten more. The faelah began stirring again, snapping and snarling at one another. Just as I was about to turn and destroy the most agitated ones to keep the rest under control, a dark horse bearing two riders crested the hill I had been watching. I almost missed them, for the animal was nearly the same color as the thunderheads roiling above.

  A white shape, my son’s wolfhound spirit guide, followed several paces behind, and a shrill cry from above announced another. Ah. The little strayling whelp’s merlin. Sniffing, I pushed them from my mind. They were not powerful enough to be a threat to my army, or the Cumorrig who stood by my side. I reached down and stroked the leathery head of one of my corpse hounds, imagining how I might use them if this morning proved more difficult than I anticipated.

  “Yes, you will be quite the sight to see should my dear Caedehn choose foolishness over prudence.”

  A small twinge of malicious delight sparked inside my breast, my powerful glamour eager to begin.

  “Patience,” I warned it, not wanting to stir the faeduhn magic there as well.

  Too late, I realized, as a prick of burning pain flickered beside my well of glamour. I gritted my teeth and drew in a calming breath, willing the Darkness to remain docile.

  My Curse, a terrible geis placed upon me so long ago the details of the memory had weathered away like mountains grinding into sand, would surely play a part in what was to come. I could feel the tension in the air and knew this day would not end without a fight. And I, of all people, knew there was no resisting my Curse when it wished to play.

  The beat of the horse’s hooves grew nearer, and I lifted my eyes, casting my son and the girl riding with him a sinister look. A blast of frigid wind tore through my long hair and whipped my nebulous skirts into a frenzy, making them mimic the roiling clouds above. Of their own volition, my lips twitched into a menacing smile. The imbeciles had fallen for my trap, and so easily, too.

  Caedehn leaned forward and murmured something to the girl, the words whisked a
way by another gust of wind. He cast his eyes on me again, their dark green shade filled with hatred and loathing. I bared my teeth in a menacing challenge. Good. I shared the sentiment, thanks to the Curse plaguing my soul.

  Caedehn slipped from his horse’s back, then turned to help his little faelorah down. I sneered. The affection brewing between the two of them sickened me and made the Darkness living within snarl with fury.

  Not yet, I reminded it, hoping to hold it back a bit longer. I did not need the lancing pain it caused to distract me until I had full control of the situation. The faeduhn magic bristled at my arrogance, but settled back down. It knew blood would be spilled this day, so it didn’t press me any harder.

  Caedehn and his half-breed female were moving closer now, their steps tentative, the tension pulling them tight like a bowstring. My glamour pulsed again, feeding off the girl’s fear.

  When they were a few dozen feet away, Caedehn announced in a loud voice, “We wish to pass through the dolmarehn.”

  All around me, my faelah snorted and growled, their desire to attack these two new snacks grating at my nerves. I lifted my hand away from my dress just enough to send a wave of invisible glamour in their direction. Whiffles of surprise and small squeals of pain assured me they understood my mood. They could complain all they wished, but they would get nothing until I allowed it.

  Returning my attention to Caedehn, I said in a dull tone, “I don’t see why you would. There is nothing left in the mortal world worth going back to.”

  The girl’s horrified reaction was delightful, causing my cursed magic to purr in delight. If not for Caedehn’s close proximity, she might have crashed to the ground. That she believed such an obvious untruth proved what an ignorant little thing she was. Really, what did the boy see in her?