by Mina Carter
“I suggest you do whatever it is you’re planning,” he said quickly, moving over to the piles of broken furniture and other clutter, throwing all of it into the stairwell. That way, if they were to get through the door, they’d still have to fight to get down the stairs.
Jane flashed a brief, reassuring smile as she started to chant, moving around the circle as she did and triggering wards on its perimeter. Tessa watched in amazement, the baby cuddled up tightly in her arms. Her worry about the pursuers was momentarily forgotten as she watched the beautiful symbols flare brightly in the air for a few seconds before they faded to nothing again.
Her own magic wasn’t particularly strong, just enough for will-o’-wisps and personal glamour. In fact, the stunt she’d pulled in the nursery, getting will-o’-wisps to attack that pixie, had been the most magic she’d pulled since her teens. Attempting to become more human and blend in, she’d just stopped using it.
But now, seeing Jane using her power, Tessa wondered whether that had been the right choice. Whether she’d been right to turn away from that side of her heritage. Perhaps that was why she didn’t feel like she fit in her own skin sometimes?
Finally, Jane stopped moving, holding her hand motionless over one symbol. Expectation built in the room like pressure in an airplane cabin as she carried on chanting. Her voice rose steadily until she reached the end of the incantation, saying the last words with a flourish of her fingers.
Something hit the air in the room, not a sound precisely, more like a sound wave or the ripples in a pond after a stone had been dropped into the water. She shivered as it hit her, reverberating through her body before it passed on and rippling outward.
As Tessa watched the dirt “door” changed, a shimmer passing over it like quicksilver and filling the frame until it looked like the surface of a mirror. A mirror that reflected nothing other than the pale swirl of opaque mist that curled and moved within its rectangular confines.
Behind her, the door cracked, startling a squeak from Tessa. She ducked instinctively, expecting hordes of pixie warriors to pour down the stairs at any moment. She clutched the baby to her as Jane shoved her toward the strange door.
“You need to go, now!” She shoved a folded parchment into Tessa’s hands. “This’ll show you the way to go.”
Feral caught up with them, barely even breathing heavily at the exertion of hauling furniture about. “That door’s not going to hold them up much longer,” he announced, his voice sounding urgent. Even as he spoke, the heavy thud filtering down changed in quality. A different note, as though it wasn’t just a shoulder or a heavily applied boot, but something else.
“Crap, someone got a brain and decided to use the fire extinguisher,” he muttered, grabbing Tessa’s arm.
“You’re not coming?” he asked as Jane held back.
She shook her head.
“This is your journey,” she replied. “This is as much help as I can give you. Other than to wish you good luck!”
Worry speared Tessa’s heart. If these pixies were anything like the ones that had broken into her sister’s apartment, they could hurt her aunt. Even though Jane was hundreds of years old, definitely old enough to look after herself, Tessa still worried.
“You have to come with us,” she insisted, trying to grab her aunt’s hand. Feral stopped her, lacing his fingers with hers.
“Leave it be, love. If she says she can’t, then she can’t.” His gentle voice comforted her somewhat. “Will you be okay?”
Jane pulled herself to her full height. “Young man, I’ll have you know I was Queen of England at one point,” she said imperiously. “I think I can handle some bloody pixies. Now, you need to damn well go!”
Tessa screwed her eyes up as Feral propelled the three of them bodily through the strange opening, the sharp crack of wood sounding as the door above them gave in. The sounds of triumph cut off instantly as the three of them hit the quicksilver barrier, a cold chill passing over Tessa’s skin and making her shiver.
It didn’t splash or stick to them as she’d expected, her hand over the baby’s face just in case. Instead, there was an odd sound, like the pop in her ears as they equalized on a plane. She stumbled forward a little and a fresh breeze hit her face. The smell of the outdoors and rain filled her nostrils, and she knew they were outside. The question was, where?
Her eyes snapped open, looking around. They were in a small clearing in what looked like a forest. Leaves and other debris were wet underfoot, the shine of the moon overhead glinting off the moist surfaces. Tessa wasn’t particularly afraid of the dark, or of being places at night, but there was an unsavory feel about the shadows around them that had her shrinking closer to the large form of the vampire beside her.
Feral moved in front of her, his blades back in his hands. He stood still, every line of his body stiff as he checked their surroundings. She knew without asking that he was ready for anything this place might throw at them, the look in his eyes telling her he was ready to react violently and without mercy. Despite her worry at their situation, being chased into the Faery realm by homicidal pixies, the sight of him still took Tessa’s breath away. He was quite literally the hero of her erotic fantasies.
She shivered, half imagining what a future with him would be like. What it would be like to have him around all the time. She already knew he could be sweet and gentle… his behavior with the baby was evidence of that. Right now though, he was channeling badass with a vengeance. To have that “tame me if you can” bad boy attitude and that heavenly body, which was to die for, on tap… She shivered. Heavens, it would be like all her Christmases rolled into one.
Determined, she tried to concentrate although her eyes kept sliding to check out his ass. It was a nice ass, hard and firm, and she just ached to grab a handful.
“Mind on the job, Tessa honey.” His voice barely reached her in the darkness. “I can’t concentrate if you do that.”
A flush filled her cheeks as he went back to his scan, standing so still she was sure he’d become a statue. She’d heard vampires could do that, but she’d never seen it herself. How had he known she was checking him out, though? He hadn’t even been looking her way…
Finally, he moved, blinking and coming back to life again to smile at her.
“Okay, so how did you know I was checking you out?” she demanded. “If you’re reading my mind, fang-boy, I don’t care if you’re the god damn Vampire King himself…I’ll kick your ass into next week!” she promised, her eyes flashing fire.
He laughed and held his hands up in surrender. “Well, it’s lucky I’m not…Marak’s too busy getting his ass kicked by his wife, Maria. She’s just as damn awkward as you are. I really feel for the guy.”
Tessa grinned broadly. “Good for her! Can’t let you men get away with anything. Give you an inch and you take a damn mile. So, are you going to answer the question, or what?”
Feral slid her a sideways glance, moving past her to get a look at the door they’d come through. “Maybe, or maybe I should go for the ‘or what’…”
“I’ll give you or what…”
Feral grinned as he turned to study the doorway, so she did too. An honest to goodness ordinary doorframe just stood there in the middle of the clearing. Unlike the complicated wards and markings that graced the one they came through in the basement of the hotel, this side was completely unadorned.
“One-way gate,” he murmured. “Smart. Don’t want anything from this side getting through.” He smoothed his hand over the wood, and she saw the brief flare of active wards to mark heavy duty protection spells buried in the flimsy wood. “Some fancy warden work here, I’d say. Your aunt must have paid a pretty penny for this lot.”
Tessa shrugged and then shivered as she cuddled the baby closer, breathing in his familiar scent while she looked around. All babies smelled the same, like warm baby powder and well…pure baby. The ultimate comfort smell, if anyone could bottle the stuff, they’d make a fortune.
F
eral’s comment about not wanting anything from this side to get through caused a chill to run down her spine. That didn’t sound good, not good at all. Her teasing mood, which she had been clinging to despite the odds, disappeared as a new thought occurred to her. A very unwelcome thought.
“We’re on the Night Plains, aren’t we?” Her voice was quiet, wary. She’d heard of the place. Who hadn’t? It featured in every scary story told to any child with fae blood. But she’d never thought her aunt meant it when she’d talked about traveling to the Fae Court.
“I’m afraid so.” Feral pushed away from the door and held his hand out to take a couple of the bags. Without a death squad of pixies breathing down their necks, they didn’t need to be on such constant alert. She hoped his finely honed senses would warn him if anything even thought about getting within spitting distance while they kept on the move…should they make it through this.
“Come on. We need to get going.”
CHAPTER 6
F eral shifted position and grimaced as he tried to ease some life back into his ass. Sitting still for hours meant his backside had gone numb. Rubbing his ass cheek, he looked at the woman lying on her side next to him, the baby in her arms. Both were fast asleep, which didn’t surprise him. They’d walked for a couple of hours through the endless night, following the parchment map Tessa had been given. Eager to get through the plains, he would have pushed on, but Tessa had begun to stumble, her weariness showing in the droop of her shoulders and the heaviness of her steps.
He’d called a stop when she walked into his back for the third time, knowing they weren’t going any farther. Half human, she didn’t have the reserves he did. He’d settled them into a clearing off the crude path, a fire blazing in front of them. Feral had taken watch since he didn’t need to sleep. Tessa had been asleep the moment she’d laid down. He moved to crouch with his back against a broad tree trunk, his senses on high alert.
So far though, nothing. The combination of the fire and the scent of vampire was enough to keep most of the local wildlife away, so Feral let his attention wander. His hearing was acute enough to pick up, and track, anything with a heartbeat, which left him free to study the sleeping woman.
What is it about her I find so fascinating? He’d seen plenty of human-paranormal half-breeds but none affected him the way she did… and she was a pixie to boot.
He didn’t like pixies. It was a long-standing dislike, one that had intensified last year. A bunch of pixies had kidnapped his patrol partner, Vixen, and had damn near killed her. Worse, he’d gotten a right good pasting to boot. Since then, any pixie who had crossed his path had regretted it.
He reached down to brush a stray lock of hair from Tessa’s face. His fingers felt too big for such a delicate task as he tucked it gently behind her ear. His whole body ached, keyed into every movement of the soft, feminine figure curled trustingly asleep. His earlier frustration had leeched away, replaced by a need to protect. A feeling that was new to him, at least one this intense and this specific.
He was used to the whole protection thing. Warriors patrolled the streets in small groups, keeping them clear of rogue vampires. Rogues always posed a threat, to anyone, regardless of race. Blood was blood to the crazed, regardless of who donated it—and never willingly when a rogue was involved.
But that was an impersonal sort of protection, like a police officer patrolling the streets. What he felt for Tessa, and the baby, went far deeper. He needed to be around them, around her, and see with his own eyes that they were okay. Protect them with his own body, if necessary, and not hand that responsibility over to anyone else.
He frowned, considering that feeling. Was it love? He didn’t really believe in love. He’d thought he was in love before, with Vixen. For years, he’d waited for her to notice him. Trouble was, she’d only ever had eyes for Kalen.
When he thought about it, he’d never garnered the same amount of female attention as some of the other guys. Warriors like Mikal, or that new guy, Zarett, one of last year’s rookies. Both looked so good they could’ve doubled as models if they’d wanted. In fact, Zarett was known as “pretty boy” after an agent tried to recruit him right in the middle of a rogue attack. The guy had lived, just. He’d needed a couple of bags of O-positive shoved into his veins and a mind-wipe, but he was still breathing, which was more than could be said for the rogue and Zarett’s reputation.
Feral, by contrast, didn’t wear the fancy threads. He couldn’t have told anyone the difference between one designer and the next. His hair, usually a source of vanity for the kyn, was kept skin short with the aid of a razor. If ever there was a kyn ugly duckling, he was it.
Leaning his head against the bark, he closed his eyes with a sigh. Love was too big an emotion to think about now, not when they were in the middle of the Night Plains with pixies chasing them. It was the sort of internal debate that needed a copious amount of alcohol and possibly a pizza or two.
The warmth of the fire played across his face and his big body started to relax as he slid into sleep.
Shit! What am I doing? He came to with a start, his instincts screaming at him as he fought his way back to consciousness from a deep, drugging sleep that was nowhere near natural. Adrenaline burned the fog from his brain as he blinked, a blade in his hand in a heartbeat.
They weren’t alone.
Feral registered the new presence instantly, looking up to meet the eyes of a small figure standing on the other side of the fire. It hadn’t been there a moment ago, nor was he picking up a heartbeat, which destroyed the illusion of a small girl the creature projected. The glamour was near perfect. But for that one telltale fact, Feral might have believed there was a human child standing there looking at him. Then the wind changed slightly and the stench of rotting flesh drifted over the fire toward him. His stomach rolled, bile rising in this throat.
He met the creature’s look, his expression dangerous and forbidding.
“You want to dance?” he said softly, his voice pitched too low to wake Tessa. “Come on, let’s dance then. You just name the tune.” He had no idea what flavor of nastiness this was, but there were nastier things that went bump in the night than a fae.
He was one of them.
Curling back his lips, he flashed his fangs in a silent warning. Fully extended now in anticipation of a good fight, they were impressive, filling his mouth so much speech would be difficult. Not a problem. He intended to rip the creature’s throat out if it made a move toward them, not engage it in conversation.
Realizing they weren’t the easy pickings it had thought, the creature turned and disappeared into the darkness with a soft growl of disappointment. He shook his head. Never judge a book by its cover, a lesson it seemed the fae needed to learn. Leaning down, he shook Tessa’s shoulder. “Come on, sweetheart, we need to get moving again.”
It was too early. Way too early. Tessa grumbled under her breath as she trudged along after Feral. She missed her nice, warm duvet and her comfortable mattress. The feeling wasn’t helped at all by Feral, who looked bright and breezy, as though he’d had a full night’s sleep and just hopped out of the shower.
It just wasn’t fair. How the hell could he look so good when she knew he’d been awake the entire night, leaning against that tree trunk? Running a hand through her tousled hair, she made a face. It felt like she’d slept in her clothes, which she had, and she had the nagging feeling something unpleasant had crawled up under her jeans, leaving an itchy trail over her skin. Not to mention the fact she’d had less than her eight hours and hadn’t inhaled the three cups of coffee she needed to feel at least halfway human or pixie. All these feelings contributed to her grumpy mood.
“So how long before we get there?” she asked, hoisting the still sleeping baby higher in her arms, grateful she’d thought to grab one of the twin’s sling carriers on the way out of her sister’s trashed apartment. Without it, he’d be getting awfully heavy right about now, and it meant he could sleep on, undisturbed, as they wa
lked. A stab of envy hit her, and instantly she felt guilty. It wasn’t his fault. Whatever had happened that led to him being left on Feral’s doorstep, no one could blame the baby.
He made a contented little sound and nuzzled closer into her, his tiny hand splaying over her collar bone. She smiled, her heart melting in that instant, snuggling him closer. There was just something about baby cuddles that made her forget everything that was bothering her. Maybe just for a second or two, but sometimes, that was all she needed.
Feral stopped in front of her, unfolding the map Jane had given them. When he’d first seen it, the little smiley faces and flowers along the border of the old-fashioned parchment had made his eyebrow wing up, but now he simply studied it intently.
“I think we’re either here, or here,” he said, tapping the map.
Tessa looked over his arm, a frown creasing the center of her brow. “Here, or here? You mean you don’t know?” she asked. “Well, isn’t that just like a man?”
“It’s not like we can stop and ask a local, is it?” he threw back, eyebrow arching. “Stop anything around here and it’d be more interested in stripping your flesh to the bones than giving directions.”
She instantly felt bad. He was right. All they had was the hand-drawn map and it wasn’t the most accurate of documents. It had no scale, no compass, or even easily discernible features. Which wasn’t a problem since there were no landmarks in the damn place, just endless plains of ratty scrub lands and dank little woods. She snorted to herself. Hell, stick a couple of “here be dragons” and a red “X” on this thing, and it could double as a kid’s pirate treasure map.
She carried on studying it, trying to make out where they were along the marked trail and then shrugged. “I can’t make heads or tails of it either…”
“Shhh!” He held his hand up in warning, silencing her instantly. Had a guy done that to her normally, his ears would be ringing from the tongue lashing she’d give him for being arrogant. But not Feral, especially not when he was doing the whole “living statue” thing again, his eyes unfocused as he gazed around their surroundings. She tried as well, listening for anything out of the ordinary, scanning their surroundings for things likely to leap out and attack them at any moment.
