Rogue Fae

by C. N. Crawford

  But maybe it was worth one more shot.

  I swallowed hard. “Okay, here goes. If I start to lose my shit, pain can snap me out of it.” I closed my eyes, tuning in to the faint sound of the Old Gods’ song. I felt the gemstones in my forehead warm up, and ancient magic vibrated over my body.

  My mind flashed with images—the Garden of Eden, feet sinking into the dirt, vines curving around naked flesh. My canines began to lengthen, yearning for blood. Angelic blood.

  Kill the angels….

  A peaty haze clouded my mind, and I whirled, my gaze landing on the copper one. A bringer of death should not walk the earth….

  My nostrils flared, my body begging to explode with light. The power of the Old Gods was going to rip me apart, and I craved life.

  In the next heartbeat, my canines were at Kratos’s throat, piercing flesh, the sweet rush of blood—

  A sharp smack to the side of my head snapped me out of it. Delicious angel blood dripped from my lips, and I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth.

  My body was shaking. Yep, the Old Gods wanted the angels dead, but they wanted me dead, too. Probably because I’d stolen the gemstones from them in the first place. “Sorry. I’m afraid I still need to refine this a bit.”

  Kratos had clamped his fingers over his neck wound. “Interesting. The Bringer of Light has a bit of a biting problem.”

  Yasmin stepped forward, the wind toying with her hair. “It’s fine. We have a plan B that may at least buy us some time. Ruby needs to create a serious decoy, so we can sneak in another entrance.” Her dark eyebrows drew together. “How many demon soldiers can you conjure at once?”

  “As many as we want. I just need to let my mind go blank.”

  “Shouldn’t be hard,” Hazel grumbled. “Since you’ve got literal rocks in your head.”

  “I get it. You’re mad at me. Let’s move on.” I focused on Kratos. “You’ve been here before. Once we get inside, any idea where we need to go? The torture garden? A dungeon, maybe?”

  “Aereus created a dungeon in the lower level,” said Kratos. “It’s protected by wraithlike creatures called the dames blanches. We’ll need to be very careful with them.”

  I blinked, mentally translating. “The white ladies?”

  “What are they going to do?” asked Hazel. “Throw pumpkin spice lattes at us? Strangle us with yoga pants?”

  “Are they going to make us listen to Taylor Swift?” I knew this was serious, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  “They’re more dangerous than they sound.” Kratos looked annoyed. “They’re part fae, part phantom, and they can drive a person mad.”

  “How do we defeat them?” I asked.

  “I have no idea,” Kratos said. “But I can tell you that when we go in there, we’re going to create chaos. If we get separated, we’ll meet back here.”

  A tug pulled at my shoulder—the mark from Adonis. I brushed my fingers over the spot, the theta Adonis had marked me with. “I can feel him here. He’s pulling me toward him. I might be able to use our link to find him. Hang on.”

  I turned to my companions, inspecting the glamour. I’d already shielded us with a glamour of unobtrusiveness, but it wasn’t foolproof. They were still visible if you knew where to look.

  “I’m making us into angels before we go in there.” I closed my eyes, summoning my magic. The glamour tingled down the length of my arm, and when I opened my eyes again, I was standing with three other winged, white-clad angels.

  I breathed in deeply. “Okay. Let me focus. When I say ‘go,’ we run for the Porte de Richelieu.” I closed my eyes, tuning in to the subtle feel of the breeze on my skin, the gentle, cool mist dotting my face. My skin buzzed and hummed with the magic of the Old Gods.

  I turned down the chatter in my mind, summoning a vision of a wispy, black smoke that writhed and curled before the glass pyramid in the piazza.

  Then, from within the dark tendrils of smoke, a demonic horde began to emerge, as if slipping through a wormhole. Horns, armor, black eyes, and shadowy magic whipping around their bodies, slashing through the air. Even though I knew they weren’t real, a chill rippled up my spine at the sight of them.

  The doors to the main entrance slammed open, and angels streamed out to fight their illusory enemy. I stroked the strap over my chest, my bow bringing me comfort. I had a feeling I’d be using it soon.

  “Now!” I said.

  In our angelic disguises, we broke into a run across the piazza.

  Chapter 8

  At any moment, the angelic hordes would realize they were fighting phantoms, and they’d be scanning the palace for invaders.

  “We have to move quickly,” I rasped as I ran.

  We’d slipped through the Porte de Richelieu unnoticed, our feet pounding the floor as we raced through the marble palace halls. Chaos whirled around us, a river of angels flowing through the halls toward the main entrance, where my phantom demons attacked.

  As we moved, I felt the tug on my shoulder, a sort of certainty that spurred me onward. The theta linked me to Adonis, guiding me through the palace.

  “Left,” I called out.

  Fleeing through the marble halls, I felt the inexorable pull to Adonis, as if his dark magic had coiled itself around my collarbone. I just had to follow his lead.

  We moved swiftly through a hall of medieval Catholic art—the walls lined with statues of saints and ancient wooden confessional booths.

  We raced down a marble stairwell, moving into the medieval foundations. Lantern light flickered over rough sandstone.

  Even from here, I could hear the shouts of the angels as they streamed back into the Louvre, looking for their real attackers. Right now, the only thing keeping us from their notice was our angelic glamour.

  Almost there, Adonis. On the lower level, I could feel his magic even more powerfully. In this ancient part of the palace, our footfalls echoed off the stone ceilings, and we kicked up dust as we ran.

  But as we rounded a corner though the tunnels, a sharp, searing pain bit into my skin—my arms, my neck and face. I ground to a halt, and my own screams echoed off the halls, mingling with Hazel’s and Yasmin’s.

  “What’s wrong with you?” barked Kratos. “Stop screaming.”

  Whatever it was, he was fine.

  I stared down at my arms, watching the glamour shimmer away until only my own clothing remained, coated in deep gray powder. My heart leapt into my throat.

  “Iron dust!” I shouted. It was burning away the magical glamour with a startling pain. As an angel, only Kratos was unaffected.

  My heart slammed against my ribs. Now, nothing shielded us from Aereus and his angelic horde if they should happen to search the lower levels. We were exposed.

  “We have to keep moving,” said Yasmin.

  Kratos began to chant in Angelic, to try to draw the iron off our bodies, but more of it kept pouring from the ceilings.

  As his Angelic words echoed around us, wispy white creatures crept out of the stones—gaunt women with long, white hair and haunted green eyes. They smelled of ancient riverbeds, like damp sediment and algae. Their appearance sent a tendril of fear coiling through my gut.

  One look into their oily eyes rooted me in place. Now, even Kratos had frozen. My pulse raced out of control. What would Aereus do to us if he found us here? We’d be ripped to shreds in his torture garden—slowly. Perhaps over a period of centuries. Adonis would remain imprisoned forever. Oh, and the rest of the earth would die. Not ideal, really.

  Still, the dames blanches transfixed me.

  Fuck. Balls. We need to keep going.

  My heart jumped into my throat as one of them crept near me, slipping her arm around my body. They looked like wraiths, but the touch of her tangible flesh against my skin told me they weren’t. This woman was as solid as I was, and a stroke of her cold fingertips against the back of my neck sent an icy lick of fear racing up my spine. She hissed as she touched me, as though the contact pained her, and yet she d
idn’t stop.

  My mind whirled with brutal images of Aereus and his Catherine wheel—his sharp, iron instruments that could tear flesh from bone. Right now, it was looking like that was my future. My knees were going weak with fear.

  The dame blanche muffled my mouth with her hand, suffocating the air out of my lungs.

  Her damp touch felt strangely tempting—an escape from the fear. It was like she was luring me toward death, until I wanted to give in to her embrace. La belle dame sans merci. I wanted her to drag me under the water, deep below an icy surface where silence reigned. Where Aereus could never find me. A dark, angel-less place, a primordial home.

  I clamped my eyes shut, desperate to stay in control of myself. We’re running out of time. Running out of time to get Adonis, to save ourselves from a horrendous fate.

  The dame blanche’s arms slid around me more tightly, the embrace of a desperate lover. If I gave in to her….

  Distantly, I heard the shouts of angels echoing from the stairwell above us. They were coming for us. My heart slammed hard against my ribs.

  Move. Now.

  What had Kratos told me about mastering my impulses? He dwelled in his darkest memories. I needed to do that now, to get us out of here before it was too late.

  In my mind’s eye, I summoned the vision of dragons ripping Hazel from the earth, of the dragon who slaughtered Marcus, his body turning to ash on the pavement—

  Grief pierced my chest, ripping me from the watery allure of the dame blanche. I slammed my elbows into her, knocking her away from me, and she fell backward.

  Around me, the dames blanches writhed around the bodies of my companions, feeding from them.

  The pain of iron still seared my skin. Hadn’t Kratos said the dames were fae, also? That’s why she had hissed when she touched me; the iron burned her skin, too.

  I growled, my canines lengthening as I whirled on my attacker. A phantom breeze toyed with her white hair, and she let out a low, eerie wail as she glared at me.

  Battle fury arced through my veins. As quick as a storm wind, I scooped iron dust off the floor and rushed for the dame blanche.

  When she opened her lips to howl again, I shoved the iron into her mouth. She gagged, choking on it until her body began to hiss, steam rising from her flesh. She crumpled to the floor.

  I whirled to survey the others. Kratos had just managed to free himself, and he swung his sword through one of the dames. She leapt away from him, and his blade whooshed harmlessly through the air.

  “The dust!” I screamed. “The iron dust.”

  He caught my eye, and understanding sparked in his gaze. In the next moment, his Angelic words were clattering around us, reverberating in my skull like curses. Iron dust whirled into the air, swooping around the dames blanches and coating their ethereal skin. Agonized howls rose from their throats. As the dust covered them, a sound like a gale through a window crack whistled around us, and the dames blanches evaporated before our eyes. At last, nothing remained of them but a few wisps of steam and the dank scent of a riverbed.

  I nodded at Kratos. “Nicely done. Now let’s get the fuck out of here, because the Host is coming for us.”

  I broke into a sprint again, looking over my shoulder as I ran. Already, I could hear the sounds of Aereus’s army reverberating off the ancient stone walls, just behind us. I pumped my arms faster, desperate to find my way to Adonis before we were captured.

  I felt a slight sense of relief when Kratos began chanting in Angelic—I had no idea what the words meant, but hopefully he could stave off the oncoming horde for a bit.

  The tug in my shoulder intensified. As we moved deeper into the dungeons, I felt an overwhelming need to wrap my arms around Adonis, to breathe in the intoxicating scent of myrrh.

  But quickly, that desire was replaced a fiery rage. And that meant Aereus was near, getting closer. He was stoking my bloodlust to a fever pitch. In my mind’s eye, an image arose—Aereus capturing us, strapping Hazel and me to one of his iron contraptions, spikes tearing at our flesh. White-hot fury ripped my mind apart, so intense my body shook uncontrollably.

  Shouts rang out behind us, and an arrow whistled past my ear. Then, another.

  “I can’t hold them off any longer,” said Kratos.

  “Ruby!” Yasmin shouted. “Your magic.”

  I want to destroy him. I pivoted, facing the oncoming horde—my heart about to explode. Aereus was leading the charge.

  The stones in my forehead blazed, a wild power ripping me apart. My canines lengthened, and a growl tore from my throat. As magic exploded from my body, images flooded my mind—a garden paradise. And me, running wild and naked alongside a river—hunting an angel. The enemy. I captured him, claws digging into his perfect skin, teeth tearing at his flesh in an orgy of blood. Ecstasy coursed through me. I’d been born to kill him. The beast taking down the angel, the way it was always meant to be.

  Except, the symphony of the Old Gods crested around me. Cracks formed in my body, light beaming from them. The power of the Old Gods was going to rip me apart, tear through me like teeth through flesh.

  Smack. I landed hard on the stone floor, my entire body shaking wildly. I rolled over to see Kratos staring down at me.

  “You were frothing at the mouth. But you managed to make a shield.”

  My canines had pierced my lower lip, and I tasted salty blood. Apparently, I could always count on Kratos to smack me upside the head when I needed it.

  Just to my left blazed a shield of pearly white light—with the angelic horde trapped on the other side. Somehow, without even realizing what I was doing, I’d managed to create a blockade. On the other side, fire burned in Aereus’s eyes.

  Slowly, I pushed myself to my feet.

  Aereus pulled his sword from his scabbard. He was screaming—probably in Angelic—but the shield had silenced him.

  Kratos was shouting back at him in Angelic, the words clamoring in my mind.

  The Horseman of War slammed his sword against the shield. Thunk. It sounded like metal slamming against metal. Thunk.

  The faintest of fractures appeared in the shield. We were still running on borrowed time.

  Chapter 9

  Hazel tugged my arm. “We need to keep going before he breaks through that thing.”

  Aereus’s sword thunked behind us, and we took off running again.

  My body was still shaking from the magical burst. I didn’t want to think too long about that image in my mind—the one of me ripping apart an angel’s flesh. The gray eyes—had they been Adonis’s? I couldn’t escape the sense that I was fated to kill him—the beast taking down the angel, destroying his otherworldly perfection. Was that my destiny?

  Thunk.

  I had no time to figure that out now, not when Aereus was hot on our heels.

  When we rounded the next corner in the stone hall, we found a row of angelic guards standing before a dark hall. I nocked two arrows, letting them fly straight into two angels’ hearts. Kratos flicked his wrist, and the other three fell to their knees before him. One by one, they pulled knives from their belts and plunged them into their own guts.

  Kratos was starting to impress me more and more by the minute.

  A dark, barren hall loomed in front of us, and a silence fell over us, heavy as damp earth.

  Tension rippled over my skin as we moved through the dim hall. Empty cells, barred with iron, lined either side of us.

  Thunk. Thunk. Distantly, the sound of sword hitting shield echoed around us, spurring me on.

  A sense of panic was starting to climb up my throat. Was Adonis here at all? I’d been following a tug in my shoulder, and it was entirely possible I’d been imagining it.

  “Adonis!” I shouted, fear tightening my chest.

  A flash of white in the corner of my eye halted me in my tracks.

  Thunk. Thunk.

  I whirled to find a pale form in the corner of a cell—Muriel, on her own, her dress torn, blond hair bloodied. Devil’s Bane c
urled around her body, streaming into her mouth. Thorns had scratched her skin, and red streaks marred her porcelain skin. Golden magic blazed around her body. Already, Kratos was using his magic to rip through the iron bars of the cell.

  “Where is Adonis?” I demanded.

  Hazel smacked my arm. “She can’t talk, Ruby. Help her first, at least. You have plant powers, don’t you?”

  Right.

  I rushed over to her, letting my fingers trace the Devil’s Bane that trapped her. I didn’t have much time to figure this out—I just had to get her out of here.

  I closed my eyes, and energy buzzed from my stones. Kill the angel, the Old Gods sang….

  I clenched my jaw. Not now, fuckers.

  A feral snarl escaped my throat, and I flicked my fingers. The vines began to retreat from her, snaking out of her mouth and away from her body. She fell to the floor, and Kratos swooped in to catch her.

  A stream of drool trickled from the corner of her mouth.

  Thunk. Thunk.

  “Where is Adonis?” I shouted again.

  “Underground,” she rasped.

  My stomach dropped. Underground? Gods below. What kind of torture had they subjected him to?

  I bent lower, gripping her arm—maybe a little too tightly. “Underground where?”

  She lifted a limp arm, pointing farther down the corridor. “There’s a door in the ground.” Her eyes fluttered closed again.

  Kratos scooped her up, but I was already moving on, ahead of the others. Our bond pulled me toward him.

  Thunk. Thunk.

  After a few more yards, a metal hatch interrupted the stone ground. I yanked it up, revealing darkness and the dank smell of a grave.

  Thunk — The sound of shattering glass stopped my heart. They’d broken through the shield.

  With a racing pulse, I dropped into the hole—not entirely sure where I was going. As I dropped down, a terrible thought struck me. What if Muriel had been in on this? What if this was all part of their trap? After all—I was supposed to be their target.

  When my feet hit the ground, a wave of fear slammed into me, silencing my thoughts.