by Zoe Parker
“You have children as prisoners?” I demand with a growl. How dare they!
Satisfyingly, fear bleeds into his eyes.
“How can—” He swallows against my grip, the one that isn’t quite tight enough to choke the life out of him yet. “—you possibly know that?”
“Where are they?” I hiss out between clenched teeth.
There is no patience left in me for a human, or any person, who captures and experiments on children. Seeing the refusal in his eyes, I use the one thing against him that even the strongest creatures fear. Their mortality.
“If you don’t tell me I will kill everyone here to get to them, including you. Choose.”
I watch the decision form in his eyes; he believes I’ll do it. Smart of him, because I will.
“They’re on level one.” Growling at his answer, I drop him. “You will never get to them.”
“The next time we meet it’ll be on my terms. If you capture any more of mine, you won’t need to run tests. I’ll show you what I am.” I pause, then turn back to him, “One day you’ll need my kind to save your stupid asses. Pray that I’m in a giving mood when you come begging.”
With those parting words, I head towards the door. Gripping the handle, I yank the door right off its hinges and fling it behind me. The entire hallway is filled with humans, all fully armed, with those guns aimed right at me.
My Magiks roar awake.
The humans open fire.
Bullet after bullet slams into me, flinging me around like a puppet. The impact of them drives me to my knees. After what feels like an eternity, the gunfire stops, leaving the hallway choked with the smell of sulfur and human sweat. I raise my head to look at them, smiling. As one, the fired bullets fall to the ground.
My Magiks caught them all.
“My turn.” Darkness engulfs the hallways as the Fiends let loose. I run forward and dive into the men, slashing out with the daggers that materialize in my hands. Easily, I dodge in and out of the chaos, trying to disable without killing them.
The Fiends roars have the humans panicking and screaming as they’re pulled into the darkness for seconds, knocking them unconscious. A trip through the NetherRealm will do that to a human.
I don’t want to kill any more of them than necessary. I just want to get my people out.
At the other end of the hallway, I stop and look back over my shoulder at the path I took. Most of them are out like a light, but some are awake, moaning in pain. All of them are alive.
Blondie is standing in the doorway of the room I left, eyes wide in surprise. Just to be a dick, I blow him a kiss and duck into the next hallway at a run.
If I’m correct, I had three floors to get through. My path takes me into a lobby where another group of armed men waits for me. There are three times as many this time. I grit my teeth and run at them, because they aren’t getting the chance to fire first this time.
Make sure there’s none of my blood left, I ask the Fiends. I hate to exhaust them for something so trivial but it's important they don’t get to run their tests. I watch science fiction movies. Blood samples always lead to bad things.
Wading into the men, knives flashing, I push myself to hurry. Sliding across the floor on my knee, I grab an earpiece off a fallen man. Won’t hurt to know what’s going on. I shove it in my ear and duck between the legs of another one. It’s comical how he looks between his legs for me—even more so when I grab him by his hair and pull him through.
Grabbing a keycard from a belt of another man, I run towards the elevators. God, I’m totally glad I’m a TV addict.
The Fiends can finish with the rest of them. The elevator opens, and I hurry inside. Now there should be buttons…. where are the buttons? I push the down arrow, and nothing happens. Oh, the card. I scan the card and exhale in relief when the doors shut.
“More reinforcements are inbound. They have the mages with them. Headquarters thinks they can get her under control. They want the package at all costs, over?” The voice in the earpiece makes me glad I stole the thing. The main question right now, where did they get mages? And what is this package? Me?
“Clearance denied. Please scan the correct badge for admittance to lower floors,” the robotic voice informs me.
This won’t do. Hastily, I study the floor, impatience winning out. I punch my hand through it. With a groan of tearing metal, I make the hole bigger. Without hesitation, I drop down through it.
And as I fall my pride gives up. I call out, ‘Phobe, I kind of got myself in a pickle.’
It’s not a big surprise when I get no answer. This place is warded more heavily the lower I get.
The concrete buckles when I land with my knees bent, one hand on the floor to steady me. Jumping to my feet, I shove through the closed elevator doors landing on the floor.
Ouch.
But now I can feel them. Feyrie. So fragile, some barely alive. Some already dead.
Angrier now, I climb to my feet and run at the next set of double doors. Leaping, I take them to the ground and stay on my feet. Time is running out. If they do, in fact, have people here who can wield Light of Blood Magiks, they can hurt me, a lot. But more importantly, they can injure the other Feyrie that are already hurting enough.
Men and women in lab coats yell at me as I pass, and soldiers sporadically fire guns at me. I will not be dissuaded. The bullets aren’t hitting me; the Fiends guard my back, sacrificing their limited energy to take on physical form.
Feeling the urgency, I pick up my speed until the walls blur.
I don’t stop running until I find myself in a corridor lined with doors. No, cells. All with wards on them. Without thought, I let the Magiks out, ripping through the wards as quickly as I can. Each one hurts, but thankfully I’ve got a pretty high tolerance to pain.
There are so many of them. I can only stare as they come to stand in the doorway, their eyes on me. The ones that can walk are carrying the ones that can’t. But there are more. Yanking on the doors still closed I run from room to room, helping when I can, but there is something—something is calling me.
I find it towards the end of the hallway. I ignore the humans in lab coats clustering around it. This is the one.
Yanking it open, I look inside and find myself wishing I had killed them all. A sterile white crib sits alone in the room, surrounded by beeping machines and tubes snaking into the bed. Reaching outside the door, I grab the closest human.
“What have you done to him?” I demand, giving her a little shake.
“He is sedated,” she answers, in a wobbly voice.
“Unhook him from all of this shit.” When she hesitates, I put my face right up next to her face and yell, “NOW!”
She hastens to do as ordered.
Heart in my throat, I walk towards the bed.
Inside lies a teeny, tiny baby. A Nightmare. He’s naked, with no diaper or blanket for warmth. So small and delicate. Gently, I touch his little forehead, letting out the breath I didn’t realize I’m holding when his little red eyes shoot open.
As the grogginess cleared from them, they zero in on me. Minos— his name is Minos. He lets out a little mewl of sound, and my heart constricts.
It’s always the children that suffer.
He cooes up at me. Emaciated, each one of his bones sticks out in vivid details through the scales of his skin. What did this poor baby do to deserve this from them? The adults I can see them tinkering with, but a baby?
I can’t grasp the reasons why.
“Hey there, bud.” I smile as I say it, feeling the flare of him on the Web.
This little guy is a strong one. I motion for the human to undo the rest of the tubes and wires as I grab the sheet off the bed, making a sling to lay Minos in carefully. I tie it securely and turn to leave before I kill them all.
“My lady, let me help you.” At the voice, another strand pulls to life within me. I raise my eyes to meet those of a dragon, but not the wingless. Behind her stand others. As I look at e
ach one, in turn, the Web twangs. It’s almost overwhelming.
“I’ve got him. Let’s just get the hell out of here. We’re not leaving anyone behind.”
She – Arista, her name is Arista – nods at my words, looking nervously behind her. “Most will need to be carried. We cannot fight, my lady.”
The earpiece squawks from my hair. I shove it back in my ear.
“We are—” Heavy gunfire. “—under attack from an unknown entity.” My heart rate increases. “Sir! We need orders now!Nothing is stopping it. SIR, respond!”
“We have to go, now.” I hurry from the room, cradling my precious burden carefully, and head for the stairs since I broke the elevator. It’s the only way up. As I walk, I count. There are a total of twenty, counting Minos.
Miraculously no one lags behind, even with the bad shape some are in. When we hit the main floor, I don’t waste any time trying to be gentle with the humans anymore. Using the last of the Fiends, I clear the way to the front door. My Magiks are running on tired; all the Light Magiks drained the shit out of me.
The good thing is, I’m pissed.
“Anyone know how to drive?” I yell, blowing the glass front doors out. I don’t even have time to gape at the black claws my Magiks form to tear through it.
“I do,” Arista answers.
I spot a large truck not too far away; I lead them towards it. Luckily something else is holding most of the human's attention. Or should I say someone else?
Someone that can sling an armored truck at least fifteen feet in the air.
Yanking open the tailgate I usher everyone in. After the last one, I hand the baby up.
“You keep them safe—do you understand me, Arista?”
She nods solemnly and goes around to the front of the truck.
“Go to the Sidhe. Let your Magiks guide you,” I yell, turning back towards the carnage behind me.
Thankfully someone left the keys in the ignition, and I hear the truck rumble off. Coming around the corner of the building, I stop.
Before me stand several Schoth, in chains, and even more soldiers. My kind aren’t the only prisoners here.
A human man steps forward. He’s round in the middle and wearing a suit that is a size too small. His head is completely bald, and he looks harmless. But I don’t miss that edge of intelligence in his eyes.
Or the small barreled gun that’s leveled at me. It’s still smoking from being recently fired. Shit. My eyes flick down to the dart sticking out of my chest.
Yanking it out, I throw it at him. For a minute I get a little woozy, but I can feel my body already ridding itself of the drugs.
They’ve got to do better than that.
“If you come peacefully I won’t blow up the truck,” the little bald man says with a smug smile.
There’s him doing better. I believe he’ll do it too—children or not.
A helicopter races over our heads, going in the same direction as the truck. The Fiends are exhausted, and I can’t take on rockets. I just don’t have enough left to try and catch up with the truck.
My Magikal muscles aren’t strong enough yet.
What choice do I honestly have? This asshole will kill them. Clenching my jaw, I nod my head reluctantly.
He raises a cell phone to his ear and says, “Package secure. Deal with the other problem and meet us back at headquarters. Jarvis out.”
A familiar Darkness reaches out to me. I almost want to cry from the relief of it. I’m smiling as they cuff me and lead me back towards the building. Already the schoth are chanting their spells and tightening the Magiks on the cuffs holding me.
“I expected you to be more difficult, considering all of the damage you’ve caused. It will take me weeks to get things running again because of you,” Jarvis complains while pulling me roughly by my arm.
As we come to the front of the building, I laugh a little. There is devastation everywhere. Smashed vehicles, small fires, dead people. I didn’t cause this damage. But I know who did.
Several of them yell out in surprise as something crashes into the building. A fiery ball of mashed metal—or what was known a few minutes ago as the helicopter he sent after my people.
I laugh louder, unable to help myself. Jarvis just lost his ace in the hole.
Inside, I start picking at the Light Magiks holding me prisoner, keeping me from calling out to the man I know is close by. A dark form lands in a spray of concrete between us and what’s left of the front of the building.
“What the hell happened to the helicopter?” Jarvis yells into his phone.
Several military grade vehicles pull up behind us. Armed humans pile out to face a threat. That threat is standing there, swords in hand, with black smoke rolling off his body. He raises his burning eyes and looks at me.
“He happened to it,” I answer Jarvis’s question.
Phobe’s upper lips curls as a spray of bullets hit him. He blurs as he moves. I watch, somewhat mesmerized, as his fist comes down on the hood of the car the bullets came from.
“What in the hell is that?” Jarvis demands in his phone again, hiding a little behind me. The chicken.
Phobe looks at the little bald man and then me. Jumping in the air he comes down on another car. The screech of metal panics the soldiers standing around us. They run for cover from the man standing in a small crater that was a car staring at me.
“God, that’s—that’s…run, run!” one of the schoth yells.
I look over at him. He’s trying to drag the other ones that he’s shackled to, terrified eyes on Phobe. Either he knows him, or he knows that a Feyrie doing what Phobe is doing is dangerous.
Either way, he’s smarter than the rest of them.
“Put her down,” Jarvis orders the frightened schoth.
Light Magiks flare around me, the pain rolling in my stomach drops me to my knees. Light Magiks lock around me like a steel trap. Teeth clenched, I try to use my poor Magiks to fight it, but I expended way too much getting out of the building.
“Do you know what that creature is?” Jarvis asks, leaning down to look me in the face. He shakes me when I don’t answer.
“You should run,” I grit out to the schoth, even though their Magiks are tightening around me like a vice stealing my breath. They’re in shackles too.
“We cannot, Feyrie. Our king ordered us so,” the solo female answers, right before feeding more power into the spell holding me.
Their choice.
“Human, we should leave her and go. That creature will kill us all,” that same male schoth encourages. He’s staring at me with horror.
Frowning, I look down.
Darkness swirls around my knees and slowly starts climbing up my body. As it thickens and progresses, the pain eases.
“We are not leaving without her. Do your goddamn jobs before I throw you in a cell with the others,” Jarvis orders.
My eyes drift closed as they start chanting again. A hand slides up my hip to rest on my stomach. I know that hand. My eyes fly open as I’m pulled to my feet and against a warm, hard body. Then he’s gone.
“Death is your champion, Feyrie,” one of the female schoth says, right before her head disappears off her shoulders to bounce across the pavement.
That’s a good statement right there. Off with their heads.
“Where did he go? Does anyone have eyes on him?” Jarvis is yelling into his phone again.
The other two schoth open their eyes in surprise at the same time and both disappear into the darkness. Phobe apparently needs snacks.
The sad thing is, Jarvis doesn’t notice their disappearance at all. Or the head sitting right next to his foot.
The release of my body from the Light Magiks is the highlight of my day. Shaking out my arms I break the cuffs holding me. While I was busy with my internal struggle and the crap with Jarvis here, Phobe was busy.
There are bodies everywhere. Another vehicle pulls up, and the driver is yanked into darkness, door and all.
&nbs
p; Show-off.
“I will kill all of your little pets if you don’t—” Jarvis begins what I’m sure will be a lovely tirade on killing my family if I don’t cooperate.
I’m tired, but a point needs to be made.
Taking a step forward, I punch Jarvis in the face. He flies backward into a car, leaving a dent in the door. He’s not dead but he’s going to hurt when he wakes up. It’s only fair.
Rotating my shoulders, I force the weariness to take a backseat, I’ve got a little more in me. Inky black smoke crawls down my hands to form the Fiend daggers.
A group of men circle me, guns pointed, yelling for my surrender. My daggers lengthen into swords. Smiling, I move.
A shape blurs past me, catches my arm and spins me. Knowing the feel of him I relax and let him throw me at the group of men. Flipping mid-air, I spin my body, the swords becoming a deadly version of a blender.
Landing on my knees, I lean all the way back in a mock dance pose to see Phobe lift a truck and bring it down on another truck. Effectively smashing everything in between.
‘You just made a truck sandwich,’ I say to him, rolling backwards to a crouch.
Swinging out with my leg, I sweep a man’s feet out from under him. As he falls Phobe appears above him and slams him several inches into the pavement. His eyes meet mine for a second and then he’s gone again.
Dancing to the side, I avoid a spray of bullets and snatch the weapon out of the man’s hands and hit him with it. Shooting someone who has their back turned is just rude. Then I shoot his gawking companion and hit the first man with his gun again.
I finish him off by kicking him across the clearing. Seeing him broken and bloody hits me in the gut with guilt.
‘This is going to cause a war and these guys. They’re innocent. What the fuck am I doing?’ I say to Phobe, staring at the damage around me.
‘These humans are not innocent soldiers. They are not soldiers at all. Stop feeling fucking guilty.’
I ponder him a moment. He is many things, but he won’t lie to me. With a mock salute, I say, ‘Aye, aye, captain dick.’
Another truck pulls up, and as the driver begins to open the door, I run at it, jump, and hit it with both feet—effectively trapping the legs of the driver. A sword through the window finishes him off.
