Ashes of the Fae: (Leila Davis Book 1)

by Sophia LeRoux

“I’m sorry, it just kind of came out. Is that too… informal?”

  For a moment he said nothing, running a leather-sheathed finger over his lips as his eyes circled the room. With a sigh, his hand lowered.

  “You’re curious about the scars?”

  “Yes…if that’s alright.”

  His foresight was quite impressive, but bypassing my second question worried me. Had I offended him by calling him that? Was he bothered by my curiosity? I figured asking was better than staring and wondering all the time. Besides, I didn’t see the harm in learning more about him if I could.

  “It’s alright. You’re not the first person to ask. It was a fire—a house fire. Years ago. It’s not pretty but…This is who I am now, and I’ve come to live with it.”

  A few more moments of silence and his gaze fell to the ground, staring at nothing in particular. That somber look overtook him again, which brought another question to mind.

  “Do you ever get lonely?”

  I wasn’t trying to imply that he didn’t have anyone, but he didn’t strike me as a man who had someone close in his life. Whether they be family, friends, or…someone. And not just because of how he looked.

  Unfortunately, something about that question was distressing to him, and I watched as he closed up whatever little bit he’d started to open, reinforcing his posture defensively.

  “I don’t really see how that’s relevant?”

  “Relev— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I’m just trying to think of something else. Anything.”

  My back tightened as I lifted my chest off the cushion, hands rubbing my face vigorously before taking hold of my temples. An atmospheric tension rose, aggravated by the unceasing scratch of fabric as one of his legs began to shift from side to side. The red hues of dusk highlighted his face as he seemed to take note of the coming night.

  “I should go.” In one fell swoop, he was up and ready to leave, bothered by something he couldn’t seem to shake. Almost like some kind of realization had hit him.

  “What is it?”

  Rising a bit less quickly, I began a slow approach. The question caught him in his tracks as he went to turn the knob. He reacted with a slightly open mouth as he peered over at me for a second, as if caught in some action worthy of guilt.

  “I think I have a lead on your daughter, Iris. So, please excuse me…” With the door slightly ajar, I rushed up behind him, a million questions popping into my head.

  “You…wha— how can I help? Can I go with you?”

  “What? No!” He snapped, turning to face me as he bored into my eyes with his. Even I could see how full of fear and frustration they were. It was like he could just about read my mind.

  “Please…” With a firm hand to my shoulder, he squeezed it as if to hold me in place. “Whatever you do, do not follow me. It’s not safe.”

  “You know what this thing is, don’t you?”

  Though he gave no verbal indication, he couldn’t hide the hard swallow that lodged in his throat. His grip suddenly loosened as he took a few steps back.

  “Stay here until I come back…please.”

  “Okay, I will but just...be careful…”

  Those were the final words I left him with. For him to be this fearful didn’t bode well. He nodded to me in a sort of understanding, and even though I nodded back to try and ease his worry, it would be one of the most dishonest gestures I’d ever given someone.

  4

  A grist mill.

  That was where he had rushed off to with such haste. There was no way I could’ve followed him in my car without him taking notice, so instead I tried on foot, thankful for the low speed limits and grid-like layout of the town. Having almost lost him twice, I found that the abandoned mill was his end destination, and I’d managed to stay hidden so far.

  His car was parked a few hundred paces from the old building, and I watched as he made his way to the entrance. I stuck to the tree line as best I could, treading carefully so as to not give away my position. With my clothes still damp, I had to try even harder to hide my shivering.

  He searched hard for a way to get in, which told me he’d never actually been here before. Yet he was set on finding a way through the quarantine—put in place after kids decided it would be a good idea to explore the decaying place.

  Crack.

  A gasp leapt from me at the sound of it. I’d watched him examine the entryway, but I hadn’t expected him tear off a piece of metal barrier lock with his hands. My surprise couldn’t have been more than a quiet squeak, but he froze, as if alerted. Head turned to the side, he looked behind him as I slunk behind the thickest tree I could find. Surely he couldn’t have heard that? I was far enough away that it would have been near impossible on such a windy evening for anyone to have heard it. I didn’t dare come out until I was sure he had looked away.

  It was only a momentary bother, because he quickly returned to his task. Board after board, he ripped several from the rotted doorway with an unnatural strength, pulling off only enough to slip under before disappearing inside the dilapidated mill. This was the part I was unsure of. Should I run in behind him now and risk getting caught? Should I wait?

  “Wait for what?” I mumbled to myself, moving cautiously from behind the tree as I closed in. I could hear the sound of shifting beams and stones growing fainter, so at least I knew he was moving away from me. It’s now or never…

  Still easy in my steps, I crept through the breach and was met by nothing but bits of collapsed roof supports, stale air, and the pungent smell of molded earth.

  Darkness was closing in outside, leaving nothing but dying shreds of light to cut through the cracks in the walls. It gave everything inside a cloudy, ominous glow. Dust littered the air from where he had disturbed it, some freshly moved debris guiding me in his steps as I came to a cellar stairway.

  Distant footsteps echoed from within, fading fast. The howling of a musty breeze kicked up from the dark hole below. The descent was sunless, but I couldn’t use any sort of light at the risk of giving myself away. I started to doubt my reasoning, wondering if following him was a good idea after all. If I left now, he may never know I lied. But then I heard it.

  The sound that would send any parent crawling into the depths of oblivion.

  A whimper.

  And not just any whimper, but one that made my heart begin to race. So quiet, I wasn’t sure if I had started to hear things, but it sounded like a child. Then another. And again, until the whimper turned into a squeal of pain and I was sure I knew that sound. I knew it more than anything in the world. It was Iris.

  Without a second thought, I braced myself against the cold stone. My hands were outstretched and my senses high as I began to scale the wall into the abyss. The whimpers resounded only once after that, still far away echoes. Their ceasing only carried my feet faster, and as I turned the corner, I found myself blinded by pitch.

  The rush of air still whistled all around, the sound being my only guide in the dark. My heavy breathing grew more and more adamant, unceasing. The sheer terror I felt in the unknown was accompanied by maternal fear; the thought of finding her was the only thing pushing me forward.

  The wind rift had brought me to a dimly lit tunnel, but the light had no real source, and the tunnel itself was not natural looking. As if it were recently made—within the last few months maybe—and in furious haste. It felt as if I’d walked a mile before the grit of the dirt beneath my feet turned to mud, and then muddy water.

  The smells of old stone and rotting wood were soon replaced with fresh soil, pine, and the sound of running water. A light in the distance grew brighter, which turned out to be the bleeding of the final bits of sunset reflecting within a man-sized run-off pipe that intersected with the path I had just emerged from.

  An angry river was to the right in the open woods. The metal from the pipe itself had burst inwards, sticking out in jagged, bent shards as if something had clawed its way through the dirt burrow and into the runoff. Bu
t no bear or mountain lion could’ve done something like this.

  With the constant rain, the pipe was overflowing. Confused now that I had come this far, but unsure which way to go, I heard nothing but the water. Rain that must’ve just started to fall spattered along with the low rumble of a storm brewing outside, and I was taunted by a constant drip that came from inside.

  “Hmm…” A childish whine rang in my ears, closer than before. Now sounding much more like a fitful sleep than a cry, it poured out from the darkness, a raspy, heavy wheeze accompanying it.

  Just like the stone wall, I scaled the frigid metal, trying to tread carefully through the already turbulent water. I didn’t want to make more noise than I had to. For a second, the wheezing grew louder, but then a series of wet coughs resounded. It sounded almost like a dog that ate something it didn’t agree with.

  “Aaaiieeeee…” It shrieked. That sound was a thing of nightmares, gluing me in place and sending shivers spiraling down my body. It skittered away in a hurry, nails scraping furiously against a hard surface. Splashes of water followed in its wake, so I quickened my pace a bit, feeling like I was already so close to her that I didn’t want to risk losing her now.

  As I came to an opening—almost like a cave that had been built in the dirt—I saw the last bit of daylight shine through a wooden hatch on the surface above. My fingers still clung to the pipe’s end. While it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, I could see something crouched beneath the faded rays. But this thing was different than whatever took Iris, much lighter in color—still large, but smaller.

  I watched as the figure ran its hand through some dark, glossy pool of liquid on the ground, its heavy feet crunching the hard-packed gravel. Fingers lifting to its face, all I could hear was a sharp, beastly inhale as the hand lingered there. This was followed by a vile licking sound, carrying a ghastly moan that caused my heart to flutter—until the sound stopped altogether.

  Sniff, sniff… Sniiiifff.

  It was definitely smelling for something, almost searching. And that’s when a far more eerie silence followed. Through the darkness I hoped I was still enough to not be seen, only peering around the edge enough to see if the thing was still sitting there. It wasn’t.

  Just be quiet, I kept thinking, fighting the urge to panic. But as I heard a subtle shifting cloth, two bright orange orbs turned to me on a pivot, only a few feet in front of me—looking right at me, almost through me, as if all the darkness in the world wouldn’t have made a difference.

  Trying hard not to move, I had held my breath for too long, losing hold of it as my chest began to huff from the lack of air. All at once I began gasping through a cry, knowing there was no hiding from it now. Then I heard the shriek again, but this one didn’t come from whatever was right in front of me because it too looked away and into the darkness. Both of us faced the shrill scream as one began to grow within me.

  But before I could release it, a firm, clammy hand clasped over my mouth. Nails like skewers dug into the soft skin of my jaw, silencing whatever I was about to let go and pulling me in close as my wails turned to whimpers. A hard physique behind stopped me, its chest heaving as its roaring breaths turned more and more human. The orange glow of its eyes faded through blinks as it dragged me out of the tunnel.

  For a few feet, I was frozen in fear. Letting this creature handle me like some sort of prey before I finally started to fight back—though to no avail. I shook, kicked, and even swung my hands like a wild animal. But whatever it was, it was too strong.

  We emerged from the darkness and into the woods. Though the forest was dark, the moon and stars had shed some light on the night sky.

  “Shhh!” it hushed, squeezing my face a bit tighter before I nodded in compliance and eased my sniveling. I wasn’t about to scream, knowing there were worse things to fear than whatever this thing was. It released me, stepping away, but I wasn’t at all prepared for what I would see when the thing finally let me go.

  “M-m-maddy?” I stuttered. He stood only a few feet in front of me, chest rising and falling in anger. His eyes were still tinted with an amber hue as he looked back into the pipe and then back at me. “What’s…going on?”

  “If you keep doing this, I won’t be able to save her,” he spat. I could see that same dark fluid from inside dripping from the side of his mouth as he gazed up at the moon, his breath spewing a cloud of warm air into the night. Even in the dim light, something about his scars appeared more aggravated than usual, pulsing and inflamed as his brow seemed to expand.

  “Keep? But you…what are you?”

  “I told you not to follow me!” I had never seen him so angry. He was filled with rage, but somehow I didn’t fear that he would hurt me. If anything, he seemed vexed.

  “I’m sorry I—”

  The fingers he had dipped in the viscous fluid were dripping with that same substance, the consistency more familiar now that it slipped from his fingertips.

  “Is that… b-blood?”

  He turned his hand upward to look, pulling a dark, soiled rag from an inside pocket before wiping his mouth and hands clean. He slipped it back into his pants, his eyes glancing over me for a moment and then looking down at himself.

  I watched him intently as he shuffled out of his long jacket before handing it to me, leaving himself with nothing but the rolled up cuffs of his white shirt and suspended pants. I was baffled but took it as he shook it with exigency.

  “But are…are you…bad?” I asked, sliding the jacket on as the lingering warmth from where he had worn it engulfed me.

  “You need to leave…”

  “But, Maddy, I—”

  “Go!” He roared, fists and muscles clenching, and his bellowing chest grew taut. The fire in his eyes flared as his mouth grew menacingly wide—teeth seeming to lengthen. That got me running.

  I don’t know what drove me to ask that question, but it was all I could think about as I ran down the river. Maybe just because I couldn’t explain that something—like whatever he was—didn’t necessarily make him “bad”. My mind flipped back to Iris, like someone had finally turned a light on within me. I knew I heard her back there, and here I was, running away?

  Only his words kept me from turning back, burning into my conscience. Somehow I trusted what he said. If he was evil, he could’ve easily killed me back there. But it seemed more like he was trying to protect Iris and I from that thing. I just hoped he could save her before it was too late.

  I had debated hiding in his car until he returned, if it was even unlocked. Seeing now how the night was much more terrifying than I remembered, fear had such a grip on me that I hadn’t even noticed I was just about to freeze to death before he gave me his overcoat, but I was still chilled. Fortunately, the rain had turned to nothing more than a light sprinkle.

  Walking made me feel vulnerable, so I jogged the rest of the way home. I figured I might as well keep the running theme going, even if my body fought against it. To be fair, it had helped me stay that much warmer until I returned. I half expected him to have beaten me there—or at least I hoped—but the streets were still and barren.

  “Leila? Is that you, dear?” a mousy voice chimed. I squeaked in a startle before turning to see Jean sitting on her porch with a cup of tea, which she did almost every night. Tonight, though, she was wrapped up snug in a huge, puffy jacket.

  “Oh, Jean. You gave me a fright.” I laughed nervously, watching her eyes beneath the porch light as she scanned my attire. It was obvious the coat didn’t belong to me. I was swimming in it. I hugged it against myself more to make it appear less…manly.

  “Are you alright?” As she leaned forward in worry, I knew she was about to get up from her rocker, so I waved her back down.

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine. It’s just…so cold…brrr.” A crock of bull, but that was all I could come up with, feet quickening as I rushed to the door. Jean wasn’t a fool, though. I wouldn’t put it past her to call me after I got inside. “You hav
e a good night now.”

  “You too…dear.”

  The house still had a bit of a chill to it. It was never this cold around this time of year, so I hadn’t even bothered to put up the heat. I didn’t have the energy to fire up the wood stove either, but more than that, I guess I just hadn’t thought about it the last few days. And now I just had to wait for…something, anything.

  Hours went by, and all I could do was pace the floor, running scenarios through my head as to what could’ve happened. How did I know he wasn’t lying dead in the dirt somewhere? If I had stayed, maybe I would’ve been able to save him. What if he was hurt, and there was no one there to help him? My body grew so tired from moving that I was forced to sit, pulling up a kitchen chair so I could still look out at the frosted glass of the front door.

  The same storm had begun to stir again, this time bringing with it quite a bit of violent thunder. Aside from that, all I heard was the ticking of the kitchen clock and the incessant tap-tap-tap of my foot against the tile.

  Another hour passed.

  Soon I found myself dozing off, the jerk of my falling head waking me up every time. My leg shook so violently each time I awoke that it was starting to tingle. To ease my restlessness, I began tugging on his jacket, smelling its sweet woodsy aroma. With the movement of the fabric, I could tell that it was well worn, but very well taken care of—considering I had just found him wandering through a huge wet hole in the earth doing who knew what. And who knew how often he did that.

  I began to entertain other ideas to distract myself. First I wondered how he smelled again—I say again because my nose was too stuffy to smell the first time in the car. Then I amused and offended myself with thoughts of whether the burns made him smell like ash or the like. From the scents I picked up from the collar I could sense all kinds of things, most of them earthy. But then I hit a spiced fragrance—musty and titillating—almost like the faint remnant of a…cologne?

  Hands running down the length of fabric, one of them stopped as it felt something hard inside an inner pocket. Reaching in, I pulled out that same book I had seen him with that first time—the same one he had taken those notes in that day.