by Wendy Owens
Blazing Moon
The Tynder Crown Chronicles
Wendy Owens
Four Bean Soup Publishing
Contents
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1. It was a person—I think
2. Alpha
3. It’s a date
4. Eclipse
5. Now that’s what I call a Party
6. Her Majesty, the Queen
7. The Amazing Ant-Boy
8. What’s a Little Treason Amongst Friends
9. Did you say Yamazaki?
10. Laser Beams
11. Coffee, Stat
12. Call Me Unorthodox
13. That’s One Big Puppy
14. Fae Have Union Reps?
15. Powers, You Say?
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Wendy Owens
Blazing Moon
Tynder Crown Chronicles, Book Two
Copyright © 2016 by Wendy Owens
Cover design by Regina Wamba of Mae I Design
Interior e-book design by Wendy Owens
Editing services provided by Amy Donnelly
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, copied or transmitted, in any form without the prior written permission of the author of this book.
This book is a pure work of fiction. The names, characters, or any other content within is a product of the author’s imagination. If any actual names of places exist within this work of fiction, it is purely coincidental and unintended.
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Created with Vellum
For Stacey Marie Brown, who reminded me sometimes it’s okay to go ahead and simply write what you love.
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One
It was a person—I think
If you asked me a month ago what a Crimlock or Bimtok was, I would have assumed there was something wrong with you. If you’d asked me what color blood a Fae bleeds, I would have immediately created some distance between us. But that was a month ago, and I’ve learned in the Fae world, a month is a lifetime. A month ago I had a grandfather who loved me, a human life, a life that made sense to me.
Now I can tell you that a Berlick—a strange forest creature—bleeds pink; well, it’s more like oozing than bleeding. A Cyntak, which can only be best described as a lizard man, bleeds a neon-yellow fluid that burns any other creature when they come into contact with it. I’ve learned very quickly—after my grandfather’s murder, and I took over as Royal Magistrate—that the Fae world is anything but peaceful. I still can’t figure out how he kept his Fae identity and life secret from me for all those years, but now the cat is most certainly out of the bag.
As Royal Magistrate, I’ve been catching case after case this last month, and nothing Queen Boru or the Council seem to throw at me has stumped me, though I think it’s not for lack of trying. There was the Succubus that took a liking to Nash, though he was immune to her seductive ways. The bird-man that ran the illegal Fae fight gambling ring was a memorable case. I'm still finding random feathers around the office.
In all honesty, a lot of the praise goes to Piper. She’s clever—a lot more than I gave her credit for when we met. It was her for example that figured out Acid Man, the serial killer that had been terrorizing New San Fran, murdering his victims with acid was, in fact, a confused Basiliscu Fae. Orphaned as a young boy, he had no clue of his Fae heritage, nor the acid spewing issues that began to plague him once puberty hit. I have to admit, I feel sorry for the kid. I had no idea about this world myself, and now he's facing a murder trial.
Despite the heavy case load this past month, there is one case that has eluded me. The one that haunts me, is the one the Council won’t let me near; Joe’s murder. Avenging my grandfather is the only reason I agreed to become a Royal Magistrate, and now anytime I ask questions about the investigation, I’m stonewalled. They claim it’s too close to the case, but I can guarantee these sons of bitches have another thing coming if they think I’ll give up.
“Tynder, over here,” Piper’s voice rings out, guiding me to the body. I can smell the blood before I even approach her in the alley. The air is thick with the scent of iron. I’m certain it’s human blood— and lots of it. I can’t figure out why we’d be called to investigate a human case; we strictly handle Fae-related incidents.
Moving in next to Piper, my breath catches, and my stomach violently twists in on itself. “What the hell is that?” I gasp, unable to look away. I’m fixated on the mound of flesh and blood on the asphalt. I glance up to see a Cyntak dressed in a cop’s uniform. So that’s how we catch a human homicide case. No human could do that to another human.
“It was a person—I think,” Piper grunts, leaning in and pushing around the layers of flesh and fabric, now intermingled, with the tip of her pen.
“Jesus, that’s disgusting, stop it,” I protest, turning my head.
“Don’t tell me you’re squeamish,” Piper mocks me as she muffles a laugh, continuing to examine the mangled remains.
“Whatever … any sane person would be sick looking at that mess,” I argue.
“What do I put on my report?” the officer asks, wisely avoiding eye contact with the remains.
Piper sighs giving the body, if that’s what you can call it, a few more pokes, then stands and answers the man, “It definitely could be a Fae kill. There are some deep claw marks; get it kicked to the West District’s coroner. He’ll give you a cause of death that should work for your report.”
I watch as she fishes around in her pocket for a moment, then retrieves a card and hands it to the officer. “Tell him to give us a call after he examines the remains. I want to know the unofficial cause of death as soon as he has one.”
The Cyntak nods and moves to his car at the end of the alley, where other officers maintain the police line from the gathering chattering crowd of rubberneckers. I wait and allow Piper to take the lead through a side door littered with graffiti. We move down a long and narrow hall, emerging into the dining area of a cafe.
“Hungry?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder.
“You’re kidding, right?” I snarl, unsure how she can think about food after what we just saw.
She shrugs and exits the front door. I’m silent as I walk next to her.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I answer heavily.
“Yeah, real convincing.”
“Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind.”
“I know … the third body in two days, but don’t worry; we’ll figure this case out. At least we have a lot more remains to work with this time.”
I shake my head, answering, “No, it’s not that…”
“Really? You have more on your mind than a body shredding serial killer?”
I huff. “It’s Joe. I’m still not getting any answers.”
“You know
these things can take time,” Piper smiles as she attempts to ease my frustration.
I bite my lip, trying not to unleash my anger on her. “And you know the more time that passes, the harder a case is to solve. I feel like the Magistrate assigned to his case is purposely avoiding my calls.”
“I’m sure that’s not how it is,” she reassures me.
For a moment I consider arguing with her, proving to her that this all has to be part of some larger conspiracy, but then think better of it. I have no evidence. I have nothing. How can I make that sort of claim?
“They’re probably swamped, just like we are,” Piper offers, scanning the crime scene one last time before turning and facing me.
“I suppose,” I reply, though I don’t believe her. I can feel it; someone is trying to hide something about Joe’s murder. I’ve debated delivering the dagger I retrieved from Joe’s ashes to the Magistrate assigned to his case, but I’m certain Desmond hid it for a reason. He didn’t trust the system either. I wish I could ask him why, but now he doesn’t even know who I am—not after his memories were wiped. I’ve thought about Des many times over the past month. The way I rejected him, what was left of him, that is. Nash must think I’m a monster to demand Des be returned to me only to send him away again.
Desmond couldn’t help me find Joe’s killer, not with the way he was now that the memory eaters had their way with him. Nash would never understand, but I can barely take care of myself. Anyone who knows me knows if Desmond stayed with me, it would have ended badly. I made the only decision I could, at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
Nash … My thoughts drift to his firm body, his dark hair, and that perfectly imperfect smile of his. A pleased grin spread across my face.
“Are you okay?” Piper interrupts my thoughts as we round the corner and start the long march up the hill to my office. My office—that still seems odd to me. Moving into Joe’s place was more out of necessity since we were constantly there anyway, using his research materials. Still, it’s hard to think of it as anything but Joe’s place, even though I grew up there.
I quickly remove the Nash smile from my face. He may be sexy, but he is also infuriatingly stubborn and opinionated. The last thing I need is some thickheaded Bimtok telling me what to do, but it doesn’t hurt to look, right?
“The case,” I lie. “What on earth could do that to a man?”
Piper lifts her eyebrows, her bright green eyes looking up from under her mess of red curls. “If I had to guess? A wolf.”
“A wolf?” I shake my head. “Why in the hell would we catch a case for an animal attack?”
She scoffs, which annoys me. “As in a Lycanthrope.”
My eyes roll in disbelief before I can stop them.
“Really? With everything you’ve seen over the last month, a wolf-man is where you limit your belief?” Piper asks.
She has a point. The amount of strange I’ve experienced over the last month could fill a bookcase. “So how do we find this werewolf?”
“Well, first off, don’t ever call them werewolves,” Piper warns, slipping her hand into her pocket to confirm her wand is still tucked safely inside. This is a nervous habit she has. “That term is considered an insult in our world.”
“Really?” I gasp. “Are you actually trying to tell me that the word werewolves isn’t PC?”
“They view it as a human term used to describe them out of fear and lack of understanding,” she explains. “You can either call them Lycanthropes or Lycan.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” I huff. My pace slows and my thighs begin to burn as we scale the massive hill. I remember why I always take a cab when I come home from the valley; the walk back is a bitch.
“Just saying … you don’t want to tick off a Lycan.”
“And what if I do?” I taunt.
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. She frowns at me and ignores the temptation I dropped in front of her. “We’ll get these pictures I took developed and take them to be reviewed by an expert,” she continues, looking at me for a response.
I nod silently, my thoughts shifting back to Nash, and then eventually my grandfather. To my surprise, I hear myself playing along again with the charade we’ve been playing. “Lycan or no, we’re going to get this guy.”
I’ll help solve this case, but I’m not going to allow my grandfather’s killer to go unpunished. I’ll be their puppet as long as I have to so I can get some answers that make sense, but then I’m out.
Two
Alpha
The lights were on in the office when we returned, and I momentarily panicked feeling that someone was waiting for us. It didn't subside until we were inside and I had done a lap around the office and the apartment. I even checked under the bed.
Piper and I have barely spoken since we returned home. Well, besides a brief argument where I informed her that if she's supposed to be some badass witch she should start acting like it and quit cowering to types like Lord Ardack. She didn't appreciate the advice.
The room is quiet now, too quiet. I keep waiting for something, anything to stir the silence. Her face isn't red with anger anymore. I have to say something I finally determine as I huff impatiently, “Well?”
Piper continues her peering at the pictures, squinting her eyes and scrunching her nose. I’m suspicious her lack of reply is only because she’s trying to irritate me. I place my hands on my hips, ready to snap at her.
“Lord Ardack,” she offers at last.
“What?” I ask, exasperated. “What about him?”
She pushes the photos in my direction, but I wave my hands; I have no desire to view the graphic images of the attack again.
She sighs and turns to the desk. After shoving the photographs into a folder, she explains, “Do you remember what the coroner said?”
“The profanities he spewed about the pathetic excuse for vapor nicotine sticks the government tries to pass off in ration packs these days?”
“No,” she answers me as I take a step closer.
“Can you believe a coroner would poison himself like that?”
“What are you talking about?” Piper grumbled.
I loosen my stance and tilting my head from side to side as I continue my rambling. “I guess it’s better than the way the bio tweakers, across the river, get their fix.”
Piper keeps her eyes trained on me. “What are you even talking about?”
“You asked if I remembered what the coroner said,” I yelped defensively.
“Will you please try to focus? I’m referring to the part where he told us he couldn’t make a conclusive ruling other than he didn’t see how a normal animal could cause such damage,” she snarls.
“Gee, pardon me,” I huff dramatically, finding myself oddly pleased that I’ve caused her to lose her patience.
“Lord Ardack— from the Grimlore House— he would know.” She continues, ignoring my quip. “We need to show these to him. Maybe he can tell us if it has someone’s signature.”
“Signature? Like a serial killer’s calling card?”
“More like a fingerprint.”
“I don’t know if you realize, but most of what was left at the crime scene looked like it had been through a blender. I doubt we find any sort of fingerprint,” I point out sarcastically.
“No, Lycan’s are only allowed to participate in sanctioned hunts now. If Lord Ardack has a rogue wolf on his hands, he’ll want to bring them in as much as we do.”
“Wait,” I interject, shaking my head, trying to make sense of what she’s saying. “So Lord Ardack, the Council man, is a Lycan?”
“He’s an Alpha, one of only six still in existence,” Piper explains.
“What makes him an Alpha?” I inquire.
“Essentially he’s a Lycan who can shift whenever he wants, not just on a full moon,” she bites her bottom lip. I’ve noticed she does this when something makes her uncomfortable. “Oh, and he’s immortal.”
“And Lycans typicall
y aren’t?”
“They grow very old, but only an Alpha’s immortal. The original bloodline turned them, so it’s one of their gifts. Also, very few Lycans can shift whenever they want; most are at the mercy of the full moon.”
“Back up to the immortal part. An Alpha can’t die?” The knowledge unsettles me, especially since it’s been pretty clear Lord Ardack hasn’t exactly taken a liking to me. I’m unsure what I did to tick him off, I assume my just being born rubbed him the wrong way. He speaks of Joe with reverence, but I sense there's more to their story. More that would explain his obvious disdain for me. Though as a leader of a dark fae house perhaps I've misread him and he merely has permanent resting bitch face.
“I didn’t say that. Immortal is very different than invincible,” Piper corrects my assumption.
“It’s not like it matters … it’s not an Alpha behind these attacks, is it?” I look at her.
She shrugs and moves to the cabinet across the room to retrieve a vial of liquid, which opens a portal into the Fae realm. Then, at last, she says, “I can’t imagine an Alpha doing anything like this. They only enforce the rules on Lycans participating in sanctioned hunts. It’s how the Lycans have managed to remain hidden for all of these years. Besides, they wouldn’t dare do anything to enrage Queen Boru.”
“Why not?” I question, honestly not understanding why an immortal being would care if they upset our darling queen.
“Immortals aren’t exactly common,” Piper answers in a whisper, glancing around the room as if there may be someone lurking in the shadows, listening. “Queen Boru keeps a close eye on all immortals.”
“I don’t understand. Why would she do that?”
She blinks at me repeatedly, her face registering disbelief. It’s becoming an annoying habit of Pipers. “You really don’t know?”
