Faerie Empire: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Vampire's Bane Book 2)

by Marian Maxwell

  The rift was right before him. Stinking of brimstone. Oozing, bubbling black, like a mirror made of boiling swamp water. Nothing had come through for the past couple of hours. Meaning, Kelendril hoped, that they may have temporarily run out of forces. Leaving space for me to slip in undetected.

  Kelendril paused, standing an arms length from the rift.

  Of course, he mused, I don’t know for sure that she was taken by the demons. But there hadn’t been any other enemy force on the Academy grounds when Mona had gone missing. It plain didn’t make sense for her to be anywhere but the demon realm. The Demon Hunters had scoured every building, and come up with nothing.

  If I’m wrong, Kelendril thought, stepping into the rift, at least I can still die a valiant death.

  Zyzz was angry. The Masters had decided that he couldn’t fight on the front lines, or leave the infirmary for the shifter hall. Worse, they were keeping quiet about Mona.

  “Tell me where she is,” he said, for what felt like the hundredth time. “You owe me that.”

  “I don’t owe you anything,” said the mage. She was the white-haired witch that Zyzz had seen in the Headmaster’s tower, before it had exploded. She wasn’t even a master.

  “It’s a secret then,” said Zyzz, glowering. “You know, but you won’t tell me. Everything’s gone to complete shit, but you won’t tell me where they’ve taken her.”

  Zyzz’s words fuelled his anger. He clenched a fist, and started trembling as he held himself back from grabbing the white-haired woman and shaking the answers out of her. She looked bored. Sitting on a chair in her blue robe, combing her fingers through her long hair. Absently exchanging words with Zyzz, as if only to pass the time. Clearly not caring one bit about whether or not he got his answers. Around them were the beds of the injured and dying. Their moans were a chorus that went all day and night. The voices that either healed or fell silent replaced by new ones almost every hour.

  Zyzz was supposed to be downstairs with the other students. He had come up to talk to a Master, or escape. That was when he ran into the white-haired witch, whose turn it was to watch over the wounded, and to help the Masters tasked with healing.

  It was only yesterday that Mona had been on one of those lily white beds. Zyzz had visited her. At first, only briefly. But the longer she stayed asleep, the more worried Zyzz became. For the last day of her unconsciousness, Zyzz didn’t leave her side. He had held her hand, and wondered how he could have been so stupid to never tell her that he loved her. All the time they could have spent together, wasted, because of his childish anxiety. Then the Masters had taken him to the Headmaster’s tower to question him. His first parting from Mona. Then he had been teleported away when the tower collapsed, not knowing what had happened to Mona, until Kelendril told him that she was safe. And now they were parted again, and Zyzz had the pit-stomach fear that, unless he did something, they wouldn’t see each other again.

  Zyzz cursed himself for ever leaving her side. Where ever she was, he wanted to be with her. He never knew that until the winged bat demons had attacked them in the hallway. When they fought together, bled together. There was something in his shifter blood that made him fiercely loyal. Once a shifter decided to be with someone, they couldn’t change their mind. No questioning, no change of heart. ‘The final hunt,’ some called it, when an alpha shifter went off to pursue their mate.

  Mona could be kidnapped, dead, or simply hidden away by the Masters. It could be anything, and Zyzz intended to find out exactly what had happened.

  “Look,” she said, turning his body to fully face the seated mage. She raised her eyebrows at him, still combing her hair. “You want me to cooperate, right? Be a good shifter and sit in the basement. I might take it on myself to run off, if you don’t tell me what happened to Mona.”

  “Oh, so that’s it,” said the white-haired witch.

  “What?”

  “She’s your girlfriend,” the woman cooed, mockingly. Then she laughed. It sounded cruel. If Zyzz had been older, he might have known that it was the woman’s past experiences making her bitter. That it had nothing to do with Zyzz and Mona. But he wasn’t old; he was very young, and very much in love. And he thought the woman was mocking him because she knew something, which she most certainly did not.

  Zyzz lunged at her—stopped, every muscle in his body straining to hold himself back.

  The woman pointed a finger at him. One, small finger. Crackling with lightning bands of electricity. So powerful they spat sparks and, made Zyzz see white spots when he looked at them directly.

  “Do it,” she hissed. “Run off, after your girlfriend. You think I care? I’ll help you.”

  One of the sparks went spinning off her finger to the floor. It danced between the infirmary beds, to the front door, which was under guard by four mages.

  The spark jumped off the floor and into the lock of the door. A moment later it burst open, letting in a gust of air. The sounds of battle filled the hall. The guards scrambled to close the door and latch it. The woman looked to Zyzz with a grin, but he was gone. The last she saw of him was his back, shifting into wolf form, as he raced up the stairs for the roof.

  “Ah, young love,” the woman mused. She took out a pocket mirror and looked at her reflection. For a moment, she formed a picture-perfect smile. Then her lips settled back down to her usual scowl. “My favorite kind of tragedy.”

  3

  The night after she arrived in the mansion of Lord Yonafrew Hyde, Mona enjoyed a dinner of ostrich tandoori, caviar, carrot soup, freshly baked buns, pulled pork, and more dishes that she could not name. There was so much food that she couldn’t imagine eating it all. It was like the Academy cafeteria, except the food was good. Really good. Cooked by a fae chef who only entered the large dining room to oversee the servants as they set out the courses on silver trays.

  I could get used to this, Mona thought. This is the way I was meant to live.

  There were five of them in the dining room: Mona, Curly, Yonafrew, Frets, and Julian. The table was long, and large enough that Mona wasn’t forced into an elbow war with whoever was sitting next to her, which was what usually happened in the Academy mess hall. In fact, Yonafrew, who sat at the head of the table, was so far away that Mona couldn’t see his face. Not clearly enough to make out the little expressions and details that help with conversation. His voice was booming and bold, carrying over the table like a tidal wave, and he held himself in perfect posture at all times. Only barely dipping his chin to take in an appropriately sized forkful of food.

  That’s class, Mona thought, trying and failing to imitate her host. The Masters at the Academy could learn a thing or two from Lord Hyde.

  He had been most kind to her, barring the little incident after she had come unannounced through Curly—Augustus’s rift. It was understandable that Yonafrew would react the way he did. He was an important man, with many enemies, Mona had come to learn. She chuckled to herself, and dipped some pork into a bit of sauce that she had never seen before. It was delicious.

  How quickly things can change. One moment, running from the traitorous Masters and the vile magi council. In the next, firm friends with a new ally. He would always be ‘Curly’ to Mona. Maybe she would even try calling him that in private. A secret nickname between the two of them. But in public, and especially around his father, Mona called him Augustus. It was only proper.

  “She eats with…vigor,” said Lord Frets, one of Yonafrew’s many friends. He patted the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

  “It has been some time since we last ate,” said Augustus. “Besides, I don’t think she’s ever had a good meal in her life. The Academy is quite lacking in the culinary department. No offense,” he added.

  Mona was chewing. She didn’t want to be rude and talk with her mouth full, so she waved her hand, the one holding her knife, in an elaborate gesture to say ‘no problem.’

  “She has the hunger of a warrior,” said Yonafrew, from across the table. “If I did no
t know better, I would think that you have a hole in your stomach.”

  Frets gave a tight smile. It looked like more of a grimace. He glanced at Lord Julian, who was sitting on the opposite side of the table. Several times during the meal, Mona noticed, Frets had tried to catch Julian’s gaze. This time was no different. Julian pointedly looked away, or down at this plate. Anywhere but in Fret’s direction. He had been silent for the entire dinner. A strange tension between them. But isn’t the upper crust of society filled with strange, eccentric characters? Maybe this is normal. Mona simply did not know.

  “If I may,” said Frets. A servant was instantly at his side, gloved hands pulling back the Lord’s chair and setting it back in its place as Frets left the room. Apparently, he had given up on Julian.

  “Is he in a bad mood?” Mona asked, to no one in particular, once she thought Frets couldn’t hear.

  Lord Julian thought this was quite funny, and chortled for a solid minute into his goblet.

  “Frets has many reasons to be in a bad mood, my dear,” said Yonafrew. He had taken to calling Mona ‘my dear’ in a grandfatherly tone. At first, it had pissed Mona off. Who is he to call me that? she had thought. But as she spent more time in the mansion, ate food with Yonafrew and enjoyed his company, she found that she didn’t mind after all. It seemed natural, and made Mona feel warm inside. Someone approved of her enough to call her that. Moreover, that person was Faerie Lord. A great man, with impeccable taste. Mona tried not to blush, which was now her reaction whenever he called her that. The fact that it doesn’t make me angry must mean we have a special relationship. I wouldn’t let Kelendril call me that. Bastard.

  He had sold Mona out to the magi council, and to the fae who had come looking for the seed. After years of training! Seeing each other every day! Then wham. Thrown to the sharks.

  “Are you thinking about the Academy again?” Yonafrew asked.

  Mona realized that she had gone still, and was clutching her silverware very tightly. He was such a good host to notice her discomfort.

  “Yes,” said Mona. “I know you said that it’s behind me now. I just can’t get over it. I lived there for so long. It was my home! And now…” she became lost for words.

  “Now you have a new home,” said Yonafrew, carrying on her thought. Yes, Mona thought. A new home. I’m so lucky. “The Masters are corrupted by greed. They wanted to use you for their own goals. Sell you off to the highest bidder!” Yonafrew smashed his fist on the table in fury.

  “Father! You mustn’t get angry,” said Augustus.

  “I know,” said Lord Yonafrew. “But the very idea of this young prodigy being taken advantage of sets my blood boiling. Such fools!”

  Mona felt like melting into her seat. It was such an embarrassment for someone as important as Lord Hyde to care so passionately about her. She’d never had someone like that before. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious of her scars and bruises. Am I good enough for him? What if I let him down? Would he also cast me aside? Even after he had been so good to Mona, she couldn’t help but imagine the worst case scenario.

  “You don’t have to worry about that here,” Yonafrew continued. “My family is cut from a different cloth than those so-called Masters.” Mona found herself nodding, knowing it to be true. “Have you thought more about my offer?” Yonafrew asked. He took a gulp from his goblet, which was made of swirling onyx and set with large rubies that twinkled red. There were no windows in the dining room. Yonafrew liked his privacy. The light came from the many glowing, magical stones set in a ring around the wall. It was a soft, warm, comforting light.

  The night before, in the same room that Mona had rifted into, Yonafrew had made a proposition. “I know what good friends you are with Augustus,” he had said. “He told me about your bravery. You may not know it, Mona, but you are one in a million. I am tired in my old age—yes, I am old, though I do not look it. I am restless. I never knew it until I saw you step so boldly into my mansion, but I think I need an apprentice. Yes,” he said, nodding and strengthening his voice with conviction. “It will be good for both of us. Let me teach you. I will show you what the Academy held back. You can rest assured that you will have the best references a young mage could dream of having. The Demon Hunter Guild, the Truali, even Black Gauntlet would beg for you to join their ranks. That is, if I’m unable to convince you to join the House of Hyde. Stay with me, here in my mansion. Make this your home.”

  Mona fidgeted her fingers under the tablecloth of the long dining room table. She wanted to take the offer. It was an opportunity only a fool would pass up. And yet, part of her mind warned her against it. She hardly knew the Hyde family. She had only met Yonafrew the day before. But he had been nothing but the perfect host. And what other options did she have? She could return to Kelendril…No, that was not an option at all. Not unless she sacrificed her freedom. Or, wait…Mona was getting confused again. Hadn’t it been the magi council, and not Kelendril, who had been ready to betray Mona? Wasn’t it Kelendril who convinced them not to immediately give her up? The past few days had been so chaotic that it was difficult to remember the exact details.

  She took a sip of wine and gazed around the room. A twelve foot painting, a portrait of Yonafrew, dominated the wall behind his chair. On the opposite wall was another painting, if you could even call it that. It had a dark, gold frame, as if worn from age, and the canvas was black. But not solid black. It was shadowy, as if something had been painted upon a black background in a dark shade of grey.

  It was obviously magical. Even Mona, still technically a student at the Academy, knew that much. Many times in Yonafrew’s mansion she had passed remarkable works of art and powerful magical items. The likes of which the Academy and its Masters would never allow her to access. They had treated her like a child, when she was growing into an adult. She would learn more in the Hyde mansion that in a thousand years at the Academy. Yonafrew would show her the deep magic, the powerful stuff the Masters tried to keep students from learning—like the library archive, under lock and key and watchful eyes.

  “Do not hide from your revenge.” Yonafrew’s voice came booming from across the table, jolting Mona out of her reverie. “Your family’s murderer is still out there. I tell you this: my apprentice will make peace with her past. I have resources, many contacts both in Faerie and on Earth. They would be available to you after you complete your apprenticeship. More importantly, you would be strong enough to face the necromancer yourself. Your family deserves justice.”

  “You must kill him,” said Julian, adding to Yonafrew’s argument. It surprised everyone at the table, as the fae Lord spoke for the first time all night. His voice was soft, but firm. His eyes were locked on Mona’s, deadly cold under a pair of wild, bushy eyebrows. Not blinking once as he spoke. “There is nothing more important in your life. The behelit, the Academy. They are nothing. Kill the one who killed your parents and brother. Make them suffer. The rest—” he stabbed his fork into the meat on his plate and raised it in the air, like a toast “—is food.” He chewed the meat, turning his gaze back to the table.

  Mona found that she had been holding her breath, and released it all at once. Her heart was racing. Truer words had never been spoken.

  “I accept your offer,” she said, trying to meet Yonafrew’s eye from where he sat at the head of the table. “I will be your apprentice. Teach me to be powerful. I won’t let you down.”

  Lord Yonafrew Hyde rose so fast that the servant didn’t have time to pull back his chair. “Then it’s decided. To Mona!” he cried, raising his goblet high.

  “To Mona!” said Augustus and Lord Julian.

  “To the Hydes!” said Mona, rising to her feet.

  Augustus smiled at Mona. He met her gaze, and held it from across the table. Longer than was comfortable, or normal.

  He’s actually quite handsome, Mona thought.

  Yonafrew broke the moment by bringing his onyx goblet to his lips and chugging its contents. Augustus, Julian and Mona foll
owed suit, drinking until there was nothing left. Lord Julian finished last, and licked the edge of his goblet. It occurred to Mona that he might have demon blood too, like the Hydes.

  Yonafrew began walking towards Mona with his arms wide for a hug. “We will do great things together,” he said. As Mona rose to enter his embrace, she swore she saw the black painting shimmer.

  4

  “No. Wrong. Do it again.” Raja stood with his arms folded across his tightly muscled chest. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and reeked of hard sweat. Suri had quickly come to learn it was his usual fashion choice. Typical of a lousy, stupid, sword-swinging meathead.

  “It’s exactly how I did it before!” Suri yelled in frustration. Her hands were sore from holding the wooden practice sword all day. She hadn’t felt this tired since the Academy.

  She was alone with Raja in Black Gauntlet’s training courtyard. The past two days had been hell. Raja acted like they had never kissed. Like he hadn’t wanted to fuck Suri’s brains out on the oak table downstairs—in front of fifty unconscious humans! And now he was training Suri. Treating her like she was a stranger. And why? Because I’m a Blackwater? Because I’m half-fae? She was seething, ready to wallop Raja with her sword. It wasn’t just that he had a sudden case of amnesia; he was also being a real dick of a training partner. Yes, he was better than her at sword fighting. That didn’t mean he had to treat every single practice duel like it was life or death, and smack hard with the final strike. She was already limping from one such hit to her thigh.

  She had been wrong about Raja. He was a mean, bitter man. There was nothing nice about him at all. She wondered why she had even—Suri ducked as Raja’s sword passed where her head had been.

  “Are you crazy?” she said, spinning to face him and holding her sword in a guard position.

  “You were distracted. You’re not supposed to be.”