Silverfall

by McKenzie Hunter

  The tight but amiable smile I put on my face was hard-earned and remained, knowing that I was in a new land and needed their help.

  “I know. It’s fear that you smell,” the short-haired woman informed Brayden. “But it wasn’t right for you to attack her. You should issue an apology.”

  Tightly pursed lips refused to let the words past until the woman gave her a stern look. Brayden huffed. “Sorry your smell made me want to attack you.”

  What age is too old to get a time-out? Can she be grounded? Teenager is old enough for throat punches, right?

  Smile still in place, I simply nodded.

  “You’re from outside the Veil,” the short-haired woman provided, walking around me, examining me with a combination of disdain and curiosity.

  I nodded. “Yes, I’m here on behalf of the shifters.”

  That got her attention. She stopped circling and stood directly in front of me. I lowered my head and eyes, making sure not to seem challenging in any way. I hated shifter etiquette. I wasn’t a shifter but a person in need of a favor so I shouldn’t have to play their little shifter games. But I did, because I needed them.

  “They sent a human on their behalf.” Clearly she felt like they had sent an inferior being to do their job.

  “They can’t go through the Veil. They don’t even see it.”

  “That’s why I’ve never seen one from the other side. We don’t cross the Veil, but I’m sure you can understand why. It’s nicer here, fewer humans, and not as many”—she leaned forward—“smells.”

  That’s not fear, that’s me five seconds from going total bitch mode if you don’t stop insulting me.

  But instead of saying that, I demurred, hating every moment of it. “I’m in a strange place in need of a favor that might be denied and get my friend killed.”

  “Shifter?” She responded to the emotion in my voice. I was surprised by it myself. It was a very conflicting feeling. If shifters had usable magic, I had to stave off the impulse to take their magic and possibly kill them. But here, in this moment, I wanted to save their lives.

  I nodded. Her mood noticeably eased.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Erin Jensen.”

  “I’m Tabitha.” That was the extent of her greeting. She didn’t even extend her hand for a shake.

  “What color is your hair?”

  What? Before she would listen to anything, she needed a baseline. A way to determine if I was lying. Human lie detectors. They do more than just tell people they stink of fear and anxiety.

  “Brown. I’m a brunette,” I said.

  “The color of your pants?”

  “Black, leather.”

  “How many weapons do you have?”

  “Two guns with silver bullets and a knife. The blade is silver too. All my weapons are visible to you. I was told not to bring them by the Alpha, but as you noted, I was afraid to go to a strange place without any means to protect myself.”

  A smile crept onto her lips. “Are you good with them?”

  “Very. If you all were to attack, even if I died, several of you would go with me.” I kept my face neutral so it wouldn’t come off as a threat but rather a statement of fact.

  “Confidence. I like it.” Her smile widened and with a nod she urged me to continue.

  Careful with the telling of my story, I explained that a fae had escaped from the Veil who had the ability to control shifters and was using them to force the royals to step down.

  “Fae. Is it Ian Carden?”

  “Ian. I don’t know his last name.”

  “No one knows a fae’s true name, but that’s the name he goes by.”

  Names were important in magic, as Cory reminded me often. Knowing a fae’s true name gave another fae power over them, in the same manner as a vampire compulsion with humans. To prevent being servant to another fae command, they hid their true name carefully. I didn’t know Madison’s true name, nor those of her parents, and neither did my mother.

  With a nod of Tabitha’s head, the shifters retreated into the thickets. Moments later, one returned in human form. I didn’t need him to tell me which one he was; it was quite apparent that he was the jaguar. The sleek agile movement, deep-olive skin, cinnamon eyes, and slim lithe build. He was exceptionally tall, close to seven feet, and had the same level of command as Tabitha. It was bad form to ask if a shifter was the Alpha because somehow we were supposed to instinctively know. Fates, dealing with them was exhausting.

  “They should have never allowed him to live after his first attempt. The forty years of imprisonment clearly didn’t quench his thirst for power. He will always possess that thirst, and nothing but subjugation of his betters will satisfy it,” Mr. Jaguar noted. His anger-laden words implied he agreed with Tabitha about a more permanent answer.

  His gaze trailed from my feet up the rest of me until he came to my eyes where he held my gaze. Intense inquiring eyes scrutinized me with interest. I’ve already endeared myself to Tabitha. I don’t have the time to win over another shifter. Move along.

  “What are you guilty of?” he queried, moving closer. His light, swift movements had me reaching for my gun. I quickly dropped my hand from it but kept it positioned at the ready.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s not fear. You’re here to atone?”

  Ugh, go back to the woods, Kitty. Damn, damn, damn. I didn’t know if this would help or hurt things.

  “I accidentally killed a shifter when I was trying to prevent an attack. I don’t want another one to die for something he had no control over.”

  Rage is a powerful emotion that’s hard to miss, and you don’t have to be very attuned to emotions to feel it and want to get as far from it as possible. Rage toward Ian was a good thing, so I laid it on thick, going into great detail about how he attempted to use an Alpha to attack me, the incident in the park, and how he was using them as his little army by taking away their free will.

  Shifters can be annoying and the laundry list of pack particulars made navigating their world difficult. Everything from their rules, secrets, pack loyalty that dictated unwavering fealty and hierarchy that required unquestioning obedience. But despite all the things I deemed as problematic with dealing with them, I admired the level of camaraderie and sense of duty that was absent in the other denizens. For that reason, part of me knew that the shifters in the Veil would help, because it’s exactly what Asher would do for another shifter. It was the very reason he saw to Ms. Harp being taken care of, despite her not being a true shifter.

  “He’s using them as attack dogs,” Tabitha ground out. I could understand her indignation; Ian was treating shifters as though they were true animals. Petting a domesticated wolf might get a nuzzle at your hand, perhaps an affectionate cuddle at the neck, but do it to a wolf shifter and you’re probably going to pull back nubs and have them going for your throat.

  Tabitha and the jaguar were seething. One point for indignant arrogance. I’d take it. I went into more detail, adding dramatics for effect.

  “Will you help them?” I was shocked at the wistful urgency in my voice.

  With their faces still twisted into scowls, I had my answer. Shifters aren’t to be controlled by anyone that isn’t a shifter. It’s an arrogant, self-indulgent, and somewhat narcissistic belief, but hey, yay for self-indulgence, narcissism, and arrogance!

  Preparing for departure didn’t take long. Mr. Jaguar—or rather, Ezekiel, a name he provided after becoming irritated with me calling him Mr. Jaguar one too many times—offered to accompany Tabitha. Two shifters were better than one and I was pretty sure I had the Alphas, or at least ones who ranked pretty damn high in the pack. Ms. Petty couldn’t wait to rub it in Cory’s face. I might even have to give Asher an “I told you so. I got this” nod.

  Ready to depart the Veil, I could hear the light padding of feet as someone ran toward us. We turned to find the mouthy teen heading our way. She’d changed into a pair of jeans and t-shirt an
d was carrying a slingover bag.

  “Aunt Tabby, Dad said I could go.”

  “Aunty Tabby” raised a brow. “I don’t recall asking him if you could. I just informed him of where I was going and with whom.” A sly look in my direction let me know that if anything happened to her, I’d be dealing with her brother. I wondered if her mother was an eagle or she was taken in.

  “I saw it in the way you looked,” Brayden touted. “You looked like you wanted company. And”—she slid her eyes at me—“it’s better if you have backup.”

  Tabitha didn’t bother to entertain the comment, her eyes narrowed on her niece, then shifted in my direction in a silent command and stipulation.

  Brayden’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head. “Erin, I’m sorry I pecked you.” Her voice sounded just as disingenuous as her apology.

  Raising my arm, I showed her the scratched skin from her talons. Hmm, maybe I’m an ass too. I contributed my response to teaching the youth of tomorrow to be better people. Yes, that’s it. I’m a mentor.

  “Fine,” she huffed out. “I’m sorry I scratched you and told you the truth about your smell.”

  I’m going to trip her.

  A tight-lipped smile was all she got by way of acceptance. You issue an insincere apology, you get an insincere response.

  CHAPTER 19

  Traveling through the Veil alone was simple and painless. Just a slight movement, a whisper of the spell, and a seamless transition. Traveling with three shifters was cumbersome because we quickly discovered shifters can move through the Veil but not without a guide who can actually navigate it. Being the guide, I had them clinging awkwardly to my extremities.

  When I returned to my apartment with the shifters in tow, only Cory, Mephisto, and Madison were still there. The greetings were sparse, nearly nonexistent. The Veil shifters looked disinterested in introductions. They only cared about meeting Elizabeth. Despite their rude directness, it made things go quickly and Madison tried not to show her offense when her introduction and extended hand earned her a perfunctory nod from Tabitha.

  The limited view outside the Veil left the shifters unimpressed, except for Elizabeth’s elaborate forest that served no purpose other than to frustrate the person navigating the labyrinthine twists and turns that landed you in the very place you had been minutes before. Greeting us at the exit was the persnickety imp, dressed in a dark-blue vest and slacks and a white shirt with one open button—more casual than our first meeting, I noted. His glasses perched on the edge of his sharp nose allowed the four-foot-tall red creature to look down his nose at anyone he addressed.

  During one of our visits to Elizabeth, he had shifted to a massive creature and tossed us out of the forest. I had no desire to experience that again.

  His imperious gaze swung from me then to Cory before baring his teeth in a mocking grin. He then swiftly moved his attention to the shifters. Bowing in greeting, he said, “On behalf of the mistress, I welcome you and your offerings. The others are waiting for you.” Extending his hand, he invited them to the house. We remained uninvited. Mephisto, standing off to the side a great distance from the Veil shifters, didn’t look as if he was expecting the snub. Madison and Cory were incensed by it.

  I’d expected the shifters to at least hesitate and wonder why we weren’t invited along. Or at least request that I follow. Nothing. Did they not consider that this might be a trap? Perhaps they would have if Asher and Sherrie weren’t outside the home waiting for them.

  From afar, I watched their greeting, which was more cordial than their greeting with Cory and Madison. Mephisto made no attempt at an introduction.

  I was too far away to hear anything. Even if I were closer, with their heightened hearing, I’d only hear what they wanted me to. When I took a step past the imp, he placed a firm hand on me and nudged me back, a suggestion I ignored until I felt a sharp prick. I stepped back several inches away from the pain, and looked down at the hole in my leathers. It didn’t stain my pants, but I knew the injury was there. The imp looked at his sword and pulled out a handkerchief to clean it off. Where on earth did he store it?

  On our first nightmare of a meeting, I had every intention of punting him across the forest. I never got the opportunity, but it seemed like a new one was about to present itself. Cory, reading my intent, looped his arm around my waist and tried to ease me back. When I didn’t move easily, he lifted me several feet back.

  “We don’t need his big mean friend visiting us,” he whispered against my ear.

  “I’m just going to kick him once. Just let me do it once,” I hissed in a low voice.

  “Not a good idea, Erin.”

  The curve came to the imp’s lips. “Riddle me this.”

  “I’m not doing any of your riddles,” I told him.

  “Hear him out,” Madison suggested, placing what was intended to be a soothing hand on my shoulder, but I was too riled for it to have any effect on me. I felt jilted out of an experience that was rightfully mine. I had magic; currents of it formed on my hand, but I extinguished it. Messing with Elizabeth’s imp might mean she’d refuse to do the binding. And I didn’t want to draw attention to still having Mephisto’s magic, on the off chance he had forgotten. It was highly unlikely, but I was going for the glass half full perspective.

  “What’s the riddle?” Madison asked.

  “Riddle me this: What does the mistress need with an earth fae, an embittered witch, the cursed raven”—he looked at Mephisto, brow raised in a manner that led me to believe he had an idea what he was but wasn’t going to say— “and a warrior, to do a spell she’s done before?”

  Cory glared at the imp, who simply lifted his nose in a haughty show of ridicule.

  “I would like to see it done,” I explained.

  “Which is why you won’t.”

  “Arius,” Mephisto intoned in a deep, silky, entreating voice that I’m sure opened many opportunities to him, “I’m sure Elizabeth would not mind the audience. She loves to put on a show.”

  “There are five shifters there. She has an audience,” the imp responded curtly. Backing away, he smiled. “But, if you insist.” He mouthed a few words and the area erupted in the same flames Elizabeth forced us to walk through to get to her on our last visit. It was through those flames that I was marked with a raven and the Others with intricate markings similar to each other’s. Mephisto, as he did on rare occasions, was wearing dark jeans and a t-shirt, the fabric molding to his form and showing off defined arms, a muscled chest, and, what I knew from memory and touch, finely delineated abs.

  If he walked through the fire and the marks appeared, they would be there for all to see. Before, it was just me and the Others. From his glower, I had a feeling he wasn’t going through the fire and suspected he didn’t want the shifters from the Veil to see his markings. Would they know what they meant? Curiosity spiked in me. Could I convince him to go? From the rigid set of his jaw, it was doubtful.

  I didn’t care if the raven marking showed up again.

  “Nothing’s burning. The grass and the trees aren’t affected,” Cory said.

  “It won’t.” It was a Mirra, which looks so similar to that which it mimics. “We can go through it, but I warn you, it’s painful.”

  “I can’t do binding spells so there isn’t any need for me to see one done,” Madison said quickly.

  “How painful?” Cory asked.

  “You’re walking through fire. You won’t have any lasting injuries, but it duplicates the sensation.”

  Giving the blaze another look, he said, “That’s a pass for me.”

  “Aren’t you even a little interested in how she’s going to do it?”

  I pressed my hand toward the flames and recalled Mephisto trying unsuccessfully to bring it down when we encountered it the first time. Close to the fire, the warmth licked at my skin, heating my face, bringing back the excruciating pain that folded me over, wracked me, and was only eased by Mephisto. But I had his magic; I could ease
my own pain.

  Committing to the chasm of pain that would accompany me, I heard Mephisto call me just before I stepped into the fire. The flames kissed my skin, pain and heat consumed me. Choking on the searing feeling that rampaged through me, I tried to take calming breaths but it just wouldn’t ease. It wasn’t like before; it seemed deeper, an arduous walk that I just couldn’t make. I stumbled backward, eyes closed. I called on the magic, its coolness, pulling it to me to ease the scorching feeling of my skin. My breathing eased from torturous to something tolerable, and I opened my eyes to find Cory, Mephisto, and Madison standing over me and the fire gone.

  In unison, we started toward the house. Madison tugged me to her, where she held me.

  “I’m going to rip you a new one,” she threatened through clenched teeth.

  “The fire kind of took care of that,” I yowled in response to her tight grip. “I see you’ve been working out.”

  “Erin, stop making light of this. How could you do that to us? You were screaming and we were about to go in after you, then it stopped and you came back. Why would you do that?”

  “I’ve been through that fire before. I knew what to expect. It looked worse than it was,” I lied.

  “That’s doubtful.” She plodded away and Cory gave her an appreciative look, living vicariously through her as he glared back at me. Their annoyance wrenched through me. Madison of all people I hated putting through unnecessary grief. Storing it with the rest of my guilt baggage that was becoming heavier to carry, I rushed to the house.

  The magic that met me at the door was dark, baleful, and foreboding. Elizabeth wasn’t hiding trade secrets but rather her use of dark magic. I’d penned Elizabeth as a fae, and I was still convinced that she was part fae, but there was something more. Intermingled with her distinctive arcane magic with the hints of freesia and dark chocolate I associated with the fae, there was now the putrid scent of darker magic. I knew she peddled in it. Something reeked, like the blackest of black magic.