Hunted (Book One of the Forever Faire Series): A Fae Fantasy Romance Novel

by Hazel Hunter

  As the other men made sounds of reluctant agreement, Ryan glanced over at the barb-wire fence separating their land from the roadway. He understood exactly how Jannon felt, for his own blood still ran hot. It would for the rest of the night, too, thanks to young Kayla, with her silken dark locks and topaz eyes. Oh, but she had been so luscious to touch and hold and kiss. He’d forgotten how good it felt, to take a woman in his arms for pleasure instead of a necessary healing. He never allowed himself such luxuries, but the sweet curve of her smile had intoxicated him. The kiss had brought him dangerously close to beseeching more from her, which her own desire would have compelled her to provide.

  “I best adjust the wards to keep him penned tonight,” Colm said in a low voice as the other men scattered to return to their cabins. “Walk the boundaries with me?”

  Ryan followed his second to the trail surrounding the edge of the camp, where an unseen boundary of protective spells kept out the local wildlife, snow, and much of the cold. Beyond it he could see the roadway, on which a car now drove toward town. Someone had left the gate to the access road open—probably Jannon after he sent away the two thieves.

  As Colm reworked the boundary spell to now include keeping Jannon in camp, Ryan absently checked the markers, which only he and the other warriors could see and touch. They remained bright and untested, disturbed only by his own passage through them upon his return to camp.

  “Jannon likely mindfogged them before he sent them back to town,” Colm said. “’Tis the only spell he can manage when he’s this pissed. I’ll make sure of it in the morning.”

  “Aye, but spare Lawrence his skull and your spleen,” Ryan admitted as he lowered his hand. “I am to blame. I paid no attention to the new hires. I should have noticed the woman had Fae coloring.”

  Colm grunted. “Mortal wenches all look alike to me.”

  Ryan might have agreed with him, but after tonight he suspected he would be looking for Kayla’s golden eyes and exquisite face among every crowd of humans.

  “Leave it to Lawrence,” Ryan said, “after you remind him to hire no more pale-skinned blondes.”

  His second nodded. “Why were you so late returning from patrol? Did you find someone in need?”

  “No Fae.” Ryan saw the other man’s expression. “Wallace may be wrong about what he sensed. He has been before now.”

  Light flared briefly between Colm’s hands and the round, hovering ward he touched. “You don’t want to find them.”

  “I’ve vowed to serve the lost and needful, just as the rest of you,” Ryan reminded him. “I’ve no reason to abandon the course now.”

  Colm shook his head. “After what your clan did to you? You have every right to hold a grudge.”

  What his clan did to him? That made it sound so simple.

  “There’s more than enough pain and guilt to go around,” Ryan said.

  “The guilt is on them.”

  Ryan nodded, though he knew it wasn’t true. His clan had disowned him because he’d broken the cardinal rule: never fall in love with a mortal. Though it was centuries ago, he recalled those days with bitter clarity. Maeve’s pregnancy had gone badly in the last days. In desperation he’d taken her to his clan, but they had flatly refused to help. Ryan had watched his wife die along with their tiny infant son, and then the darkness overtook him.

  The Sheridan clan, who knew that Ryan was a berserker, had come after him. He had cut his way through half of them before they had been able to imprison him. For months he had screamed and bled as he fought the bespelled chains holding him in the remote cave. By the time his self-control returned, the Fae king had judged him and issued his decree: death or exile. Some days Ryan still wondered why he had chosen the latter.

  “Hardening my heart will not change what I did,” Ryan said. “By royal decree we are all exiled to the mortal realm for eternity. We may help the lost Fae, and fight the dark, but we will never again know kinship with our own kind.”

  “The king enjoys twisting the knife as much as planting it,” Colm said, and sighed. “But perhaps someday we can…” He stepped closer, sniffed, and frowned. “What is that smell?”

  “Doubtless my horse,” Ryan said quickly.

  Colm was the closest thing to bloodkin that Ryan would ever have. If he told anyone about Kayla, it would be him—but not now, not with the taste of her still on his lips.

  “As for these lost Fae,” Ryan continued, “we will wait another night. Then Wallace can track them. They can’t be left to wander about here.”

  “As you will,” Colm said, but then frowned. “No, wait.” He sniffed again. “It is not Titan. What is that?”

  His second turned around slowly before he halted and breathed in deeply. Although Ryan tensed, he was careful to keep the concern from his face.

  “There,” Colm declared. “I have it. A spell trail, the barest trace of one. You must have passed through it.” He looked back at Ryan. “It’s not our magick. Did you not feel it?”

  Ryan released his glamour, emerging into his more powerful, natural form. As he opened his mind to the currents of energy all around them, his hair fanned out and his skin illuminated, drawing to it the particular heat of Fae magick. Within moments he found what Colm had sensed, a faint, subtle burn inside the air, marking the passage of something dark and strange.

  “I have it.” He tried to capture the magick with his own power, but it sifted through him and scattered itself across the winter darkness until every trace had disappeared. “It is old. Twenty years or more since ’twas cast.”

  Colm stared at him. “No enchantment could endure or linger that long.”

  “There is one sort that can,” said a voice from behind. Wallace joined them, and glanced at Ryan. “Jannon sleeps. My fist may have helped him nod off.”

  “My thanks,” Ryan said with half a smirk. He turned to examine the dark land around them, looking for any other sign of passing Fae. “I cannot tell if ’twas one or two. Can you, brother?”

  “No,” the blacksmith admitted. “But I can tell you the only enchantment that may linger so long in the mortal realm: a curse.”

  Chapter 7

  Christine and everyone else in the strip club froze.

  Dirk pressed the edge of his blade to their boss’s throat.

  “If they don’t obey me, you’ll be getting a new smile.” He cut the man’s neck just enough to stain the edge of his dagger. A bright bead of blood trickled down the front of his throat. “Right here.”

  Concealing a flinch, Christine let her eyes drift right and left. She quickly checked the surfaces around her. She’d never done her secret thing in front of anyone else, but if she was quick she might be able to get out before they realized she’d done it.

  Dirk wiped his blade clean on the manager’s shirt sleeve, and then clouted Fred, who collapsed in a motionless heap. Change spilled out of his pockets and rolled around the dancers’ high-heeled shoes.

  Christine’s blood turned to ice, but none of the girls so much as blinked.

  “My men have been on the road for a long time,” Dirk said, his voice taking on a weird resonance. “They need servicing, so you whores will attend to them. Now.”

  The women began to move like sleepwalkers toward the bikers, some stepping over Fred without even looking down. Christine ducked down to scoop up some quarters, dividing them between both hands as she straightened.

  “Where is that mouthy one?” she heard Dirk ask.

  Before anyone looked at her Christine whipped her hands out and released the coins. They ricocheted precisely off the tables, chairs and skulls she’d chosen. The quarters shot up at the spot lights like bullets. An instant later all of the bulbs shattered at the same time, plunging the club into darkness.

  As the bikers shouted, Christine ran to the dancers’ dressing room, grabbed her gym bag, and yanked up the only window. Once she’d climbed out, she kicked off her heels and ran barefoot through the snow to her little pickup. She kept the lights
off as she started the engine, and floored it. In the rearview mirror she saw a spray of gravel shower a pair of bikers running out of the club.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” she muttered, pulling her seatbelt down and clipping it in place.

  At the parking lot exit was a telephone pole. She wrenched the wheel, fishtailing the back end of her truck. With a loud crunch of metal, it slammed into the base of the pole. Wood exploded as she was jerked sideways against the seatbelts. As she righted herself, floored the gas, and steered away from the pole, it fell over and landed on the bikers.

  “The bigger they are.”

  Tires squealing, she hurtled onto the road and accelerated, her heart hammering. As she drove through a labyrinth of streets and back roads away from the club, she kept an eye on the rearview mirror. No one appeared to be following her, and by the time she crossed the town border she felt reasonably safe. She drove up into the mountains, found an all-night truck stop, and parked behind the diner.

  Taking her gym bag to the rest room, she changed out of her skimpy costume and put on a pink gingham blouse and a pair of jeans. Once she removed most of her makeup, and rubbed some baby powder under her arms, she stuffed her glitter-streaked hair under a long, strawberry blonde wig. She quickly braided the wig on either side of her face, and tied off the ends with some pink ribbon.

  “Hi there,” she said to her reflection, and then cleared her throat and tried again. “Hi there,” she said in a softer, sweeter tone as she used her eyeliner to add some freckles on the bridge of her nose. “Could you help a girl out? Of course you could. Look at me. I’m practically your kid sister’s twin. And if you touch me, I’ll kick your balls up into your tonsils.”

  When she walked into the diner a few truckers gave her the eye, but when they saw she wasn’t dressed like a working girl they turned their attention back to their plates. After inspecting the possibilities she walked over to the youngest, who was just finishing a burger. He looked up as she sat across from him, and quickly swiped some ketchup from his chin.

  “Hi, there.” She gave him her best, girl-next-door smile. “Could you help me out? I’m looking for a ride, and I can give you some gas money. Where are you headed?”

  “Miami.” He sounded a bit dazed. “But I’m not supposed to pick up any hitchers.”

  The thought of Florida tempted Christine, but she couldn’t leave Aisha and the other girls at the mercy of the gang. Nor could she go to the cops, who would just barge in and get everyone killed. She hated cops anyway. No, what she needed was to hide, and think, but not too far away.

  “I’m only looking for a lift to the next town.” She tucked a twenty under his sweaty hand. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

  He glanced around them as he quickly tucked the money in his shirt pocket. “Sure, okay. Ashdale is about ten miles down the road. That all right?”

  She glanced out the window at the dark, empty road. “That’s perfect.”

  Chapter 8

  Kayla drove through the tiny town of Ashdale, ignoring the way her heart still pounded as she searched both sides of the street. As soon as Ryan and one of the other men had started walking out of the camp in her direction she had panicked, and run back to the car. She’d been too far away to hear anything they said, but when she glanced back she saw Ryan change form again.

  This time it had been even stranger, with his hair lifting and coiling as if it were alive, and his entire body lighting up with an intense, white-hot glow. The other man hadn’t reacted at all to it, which meant he either didn’t see it, or he could do the same thing. Like the drunken guy with the gold-streaked red hair who had tried to start a fight with Ryan and his friend at the bonfire—he hadn’t pretended to look human at all. He’d looked like the drunk version of Conan the Barbarian.

  They could be part of a gang, like the bikers.

  But Kayla didn’t want to believe that. Unfortunately, given the motorcycles and the shape-shifting and the magic tricks, what else could it be?

  The sign for the Silver Birch Inn appeared at the end of the main road, and Kayla gratefully turned into the lot. As the tires crunched to a stop on the gravel, she parked outside the front lobby. Under a flickering light, she simply sat. As she clasped her trembling hands in her lap, Kayla knew it wasn’t the cold that made them shake. She could hardly believe what she’d just seen. After a few moments, she took a deep breath, got out of the car, and headed into the lobby.

  A middle-aged woman who sat dozing behind the reception desk sat up as soon as Kayla’s entry caused the bell over the door to ring. “Good evening,” she said, her voice sleepy and soft. “May I help you?”

  “Can you tell me which room Tara Rowe is staying in?” When the woman hesitated she added, “I’m her sister.” The clerk still seemed unconvinced, so Kayla took out her wallet. “Here’s my ID.”

  The woman glanced at the license Kayla held out, and then nodded. “When Miss Tara checked in she told me about you, but I’ve learned to be careful. We have her in room fourteen.” She hesitated before she added, “I think she’s been worried about you. Every night she comes up here to sit for hours and watch the road.”

  “I got delayed on the way here,” Kayla said, forcing a smile.

  As she closed her wallet, she glanced at the short stack of colorful flyers on the counter. A single word caught her eye: faire. She took one and skimmed it, noting the dates and events listed.

  “Are you going to this Forever Faire show next week?”

  The clerk smiled and nodded. “It’s wonderful. They have archery contests, and all this amazing food, and all kinds of shows. Plus those men are so handsome in their shining armor. It’s free, too, if you and your sister’ll be here.”

  Kayla imagined Ryan in armor and felt her lips tingle. “Probably not, but thank you.”

  She went back out to retrieve her suitcase before she went to the room, the last one at the back of the motel. But before Kayla could even knock, her sister opened the door.

  Tara had obviously jumped out of the shower. Her ash blonde hair hung dripping wet around her pale, narrow face, and all she wore was her old pink bathrobe. For an instant something shadowed her big gray eyes, and then she grabbed Kayla, dragged her inside and enveloped her in a tight hug.

  “It’s okay, I’m okay” Kayla murmured as she patted her sister’s back.

  New guilt ground a hole in her heart. How could Ryan have made her think about leaving Tara behind? Kayla was all she had in the world. As Tara’s shoulders shuddered, Kayla found her own eyes burning and her throat tight.

  “Don’t cry,” Kayla managed to say. “It gives you a clown nose, and a circus will steal you from me.”

  The old, lame joke from childhood worked its usual charm as Tara drew back and sniffed a few times.

  “I wish one would. They’d never make me sit in a lousy motel for like forever.”

  “Forever is a bit longer than four days. The car broke down right before I got here, but a nice cop helped me.” For the moment she would skip the real story. Kayla bolted the door. “Please tell me you have some food that didn’t come out of a vending machine.”

  “Snack snob,” Tara said, but gave her another quick hug. She gestured toward some take-out boxes stacked on the spindly table by the window. “I used the last of my cash to get some pizza. It’s still warm.”

  “Good, I’m starving,” Kayla said, and went to investigate. As soon as she saw the half-cheese, half-sardine and jalapeño, she glanced back at her sister. “You already knew I got here.”

  Tara had been able to sense Kayla almost since she was born.

  “Like usual,” she said, and shrugged. Tara wrinkled her nose. “Why do you stink like that?”

  Kayla made a show of sniffing her sleeve, to which Ryan’s delicious scent still clung.

  “My desperate need to visit the nearest laundromat, I imagine.”

  She didn’t want to think about him, or feel the ghost of his kiss on her lips. Instead she took
a slice from the cheese half and bit off the point. Once she chewed and swallowed, she sighed.

  “God, I love you,” Kayla said. “Even if you do eat like a teenager.”

  “I am a teenager,” Tara said, and handed her a can of soda. “So, what happened? Did you see them?”

  “Not since the day we split up.” She took a long drink before she dropped onto one of the double beds. “Go, finish your shower. I’ll tell you everything once I’ve eaten and you’re not so drippy, Fish Breath.”

  “Hey, I brushed.”

  Her sister tossed some napkins at her and retreated to the tiny bathroom. Only after she closed the door did Kayla set aside the food and drink, stand, strip out of her jacket and fling it across the room.

  Son of a bitch. If she’d been alone, she would have shrieked it. Why me? Why lie to me and change bodies and kiss me? Why couldn’t you just stay on your side of the campfire? Why did you say I wouldn’t remember if you knew I would?

  Kayla flopped back on the bed and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. She could hear Tara using the hair dryer in the bathroom, and knew she had only a minute or two to pull herself together. Tara knew her better than anyone on the planet. Lying to her sister had to be done by omission, or not at all.

  The smartest thing Kayla could do was leave Ashdale first thing in the morning. Winter made heading north a bad idea, but there was still the southwest. They could even try driving all the way out west to some town along the Pacific coast. But traveling cost money, and theirs was almost gone.

  No, what she’d given Tara was gone. I used the last of my cash to get some pizza, her sister had told her.

  Kayla took out her wallet. She already knew her checking account balance had dwindled down to two digits, and she’d maxed out her credit card renting the car. A quick count of the bills she had left added up to seventy-four dollars in cash.

  Not enough to get us to Kansas.

  She pocketed her wallet and lay back to stare at the ceiling. She didn’t want to go west or southwest or anywhere. What she wanted was to go back to the Forever Faire and to find out what sort of magicians Ryan and his men were—and how they were able to do what they did.