by Kimbra Swain
“What are you smiling at?” Stephanie asked as she got ready for the big company Christmas party.
“Just thinking about something back home,” I said.
“It’s been a month, and you can’t get her out of your head. Just like Joey Blankenship. That poor boy. She ruined him. Fucked him and left him high and dry. And just so you know, since we are being all honest and stuff now, I did fuck him that night. And several nights since, but he still wants her. She fucking ruins men. She’s ruined you,” she said.
I hated her voice. I hated her condescending attitude. I hated everything about Stephanie Davis.
“I knew you slept with him. My kind has always been able to tell the truth from a lie,” I said.
She huffed. “Whatever, Dylan. You are pathetic. You will go to this party and play your part. You are my boyfriend, but just so you know, you’ll be coming home alone. I have other plans,” she informed me.
“Good. Because the next time I fuck you will be a cold day in hell,” I said.
“You will fuck me if I tell you too,” she said. I knew that wasn’t part of the deal.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I don't work that way,” I said. I felt the power move around us as she sauntered to me. The red dress she wore shifted around her curves. She exuded sex appeal, but I knew what she was. She couldn’t seduce me. Not like that.
Running a long red nail under my chin, lifting my eyes to hers, she finally realized that she had no sway over me. I laughed in her face. “Nice try,” I said.
“Let’s go,” she pouted.
Crazy bitch.
The party was full of snobby lawyers and judges. They all looked down on me. I was only a sheriff in the most rural county in the state. I heard all the jokes about chasing possums out of the road or rounding up livestock. While I’d never chased a possum, I had rounded up stray livestock. The more I watched them intermingle, I realized I was in a room of fairies. Stephanie spent most of the night with her boss, Sergio Krykos. He was Unseelie. His jet-black hair and olive coloring gave him away. I always wondered why Grace didn’t look like most other Unseelie. However, I’d heard tales of Oberon and his white hair and piercing blue eyes. I had seen that in Grace. She kept it carefully hidden, but from time to time I had seen it.
I drank entirely too much. Liquor didn’t affect me as much as it would a normal human, but with the right amount of the right kinds, I could lose control. I sauntered back to Stephanie’s apartment without even saying goodbye to her and her friends.
When I got to the apartment, I fished out my phone. What I really wanted to do was drive back to Shady Grove and see Grace, but I knew I wasn’t fit to drive. I dialed her number, then erased it. Repeating the process twenty times, I finally hit send. It rang twice, and I panicked. Clicking off the phone, I tossed it across the bed, then fell back on it. I had no right to call her. Plus, Jeremiah would be pissed. I couldn’t wait to inform him that I found out nothing about Stephanie and the Tuscaloosa fairies, because they spent their time making fun of me.
My phone lit up and buzzed. I had silenced it at the party, but from across the bed, I saw her name light up the screen. I prepared myself for the worst. I knew whatever she had to say I deserved to hear.
“Hello,” I slurred.
“Are you hurt?” she asked, which threw me off.
“Um. No,” I said.
“Good. I fucking hate you. Never call me again,” she screamed and hung up. I died laughing. She reacted with kindness then blessed me out like I deserved. I gave it a minute to see if she would call back. If not, I would call her back. Putting on my groveling shoes, I pressed send again.
“I am trying to sleep, Dylan,” she huffed.
“Hey, Grace,” I said. My brain wasn’t processing information like I wanted it to.
“Are you drunk?” she asked.
“Maybe,” I replied.
“Where are you? Did Nestor let you get like this?” she asked.
“Naw, Grace. I’ve been out of town,” I said.
“I don’t want to talk to you, Dylan,” she pouted. I imagined those full lips pouting and got hard. Damn this woman did crazy things to me.
“I know you don’t, and I deserve it,” I said.
“You aren’t making sense. Goodnight, Dylan,” she said but didn’t hang up.
“I know I’m not, but I want you to know I’m sorry,” I said.
“You are drunk. I don’t want to hear it,” she said.
“I would come and tell you myself, but the sheriff of Lowden county shouldn’t be driving drunk,” I said.
“Where are you? Do you need a ride home?” she asked. God bless her. I’ve lied to her. Used her to make my job easier, and she was still giving to me.
“No, I just miss you,” I said. “I’ll let you go.”
“You have a pathetic way of showing you care about someone. I’m not worth more than a late night drunken call. You are feeling sorry for yourself. Not for how you treat me,” she said. All truth. I deserved it. I wanted her to yell at me. I needed to hear it.
“You are right, Gracie. Cuss me out. I need it,” I said.
“I won’t give you the satisfaction,” she said. I laughed uncontrollably. She was damn near perfect. “Stop laughing, you drunk moron.”
“I can’t. You are awesome,” I said as my head started to spin. I was going to pass out.
“Dylan, do you need help?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you? I’ll come get you.”
“Not that kind of help.”
“You can forget any of that kind of help.”
I laughed again. “Not sex, but if you are offering.”
“Whatever. You are about to pass out. Tell me you are somewhere safe. Don’t pass out in an alley or something,” she said.
“You do care about me,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Because you are my friend,” I said.
“You don’t deserve me,” she said.
“No, I don’t. No, I don’t.”
Grace
The line went dead. I’d never heard him sound so depressed. Defeated. I could hear it in his voice. Dylan Riggs had been the sheriff in Shady Grove for almost two years. I knew him better than anyone except for Jeremiah. The thought crossed my mind to cast a spell to find him, but I figured I’d regret it. Mable told me down at the grocery that he had taken a small leave from the department. She said he had moved to Tuscaloosa with Stephanie. It seemed as though he was back and forth with her. One minute they were good, the next minute they were fighting. It didn’t seem healthy.
I decided it was just a drunk call, and I should let him go. My heart hurt at the thought, but I knew it was the right thing to do. He seemed to never get over her. I wanted to know the truth, and I doubted he would give it to me willingly. I couldn’t, well, wouldn’t force it out of him, but perhaps with a little help, I might find out what I really needed to know.
My plans weren’t perfect, and they would take some time. Jeremiah and the Sanhedrin would definitely disapprove, but in reality, my life was over. I had lived for a very long time. Some of those times were good. Some were bad. One thing I knew, no one had ever intrigued me like Dylan Riggs. Certainly, no human man. The thought crossed my mind that he might be something other than human. I had never accepted my father’s heritage, and many of the gifts bestowed upon royal heirs were stripped from me. I couldn’t pop from one place to the other without using the ways through the trees and the Otherworld. I couldn’t see beings for what they really were. I could shift as my father did into my animal being, but here, that was too dangerous.
All I wanted was the truth from Dylan. I saw the lustful looks in his eye. There was more to it than just wanting to have sex. He wanted more. He had a perfectly good royal fairy living with him. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why he would want me. Unless he was one of those kinds of guys who got off on having m
ore than one partner. I sighed. Why couldn’t things just be easy?
I drifted off to sleep, dreaming of denim blue eyes and sandy hair.
I woke up to my phone ringing. He was up and regretted calling me.
“Dylan, it’s early,” I moaned.
“Where are you?” he asked in a panic.
“At home,” I replied.
“Don’t stay there. You have to leave right now,” he said.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked.
“Leave, Grace. Go to Hot Tin. Stay with Nestor until I get there,” he said. “Please. They are coming for you.”
“Who?”
“Grace, for all that is good in this world, please do as I ask,” he pleaded.
“Okay. Okay,” I said, grabbing the clothes I’d taken off the day before. He didn’t hang up, but I could hear the roar of the engine of his red Camaro.
“Are you out of the house yet?” he asked.
“Almost. I’m going as fast as I can. You are scaring me,” I said.
“You should be scared. Run, Grace. Run!” he yelled through the phone.
Grabbing the keys to my truck, I ran to it. The engine turned over and I tore out of the park kicking gravel as I went. Hot Tin was only a half mile away. Dylan’s heavy breathing blasted through the phone.
“Tell me, Dylan,” I begged.
“I’ll be there in a minute. I’m only a mile out of town,” he said. “Go inside. Stay with him. He knows you are coming.”
“Okay,” I said, pulling up at the bar. I hopped out and ran inside. “I’m here.”
“I’m hanging up. Stay with Nestor,” he said.
“Dylan,” I whimpered as a cold steel barrel pressed to my temple.
“Shit,” he growled. “I am coming for you. Don’t give up.”
A man laughed, swatting the phone out of my hand. “Well, look what we have here, boys,” he said. The men in the shadows emerged, cackling like hyenas.
“What do you want?” I said through gritted teeth.
The man shifted the barrel of the gun to my ribs and said, “If you move, I will shoot this iron bullet into your gut. You will writhe in agony until you die. Do you understand?”
“I’m the daughter of Oberon, King of the Unseelie. You will release me,” I stammered.
The room filled with laughter. “Thank you for confirming it for us. It makes it so much easier when we turn you over,” he said.
“The Sanhedrin will come for you,” I said.
“No, pretty thing, they won’t,” he said.
I heard rustling beside me. Muffled screams came from Nestor who was tied to a chair. They held a knife to his neck, but he still struggled. His dark eyes poured tears as he watched me tremble.
“What do you want for the life of this man?” I asked.
“Your submission,” he whispered in my ear. Nestor’s chair squeaked across the floor as he protested. The knife pierced the skin on his neck, and a trickle of blood ran slowly to his collar. He shook his head violently, ignoring the knife.
“You have it,” I muttered. His hand rested on my shoulder, and he shoved me to my knees.
“Oh, I am going to enjoy this. Get everything ready, boys. Daddy has a new slave,” he laughed.
The men rushed out of the room by a side door. I could hear the revving of a V8 engine. If I fought this man, it would give Dylan time to get here, but there were too many here for him to handle. Plus, they might kill Nestor in the process. I couldn’t have that on my conscience. When the last man left the room through the back door, the man hovering above me said, “Say goodnight, sweet Queen.” He raised his arm, and for just an instant, I felt a stabbing pain in my temple and my body crumpled to the ground. My fading vision saw Nestor slouched over in his chair. They had killed him anyway. I cursed myself, then slept.
Dylan
I had miscalculated. Over the course of the night, I dreamed awful dreams of men dragging Grace away. Her limp body dangling between two ogres. Trolls. Something. Her face was bruised. Her clothes were muddy and torn. I shot up in the bed wide awake. My head pounded from the alcohol. It had been ages since I’d had a premonition dream. Well, not ages, but the last time I drank too much alcohol. It wasn’t part of my phoenix heritage, but there were times when inebriated, something within my native heritage flared allowing me to see into the future. I wasn’t sure who the men were, but I knew it was real.
Pressing the gas pedal to the floor, I rushed through the small town of Shady Grove. As I flew past a sheriff’s vehicle, it flicked on its lights to follow me. I didn’t stop. My phone rang.
“What?” I yelled into it. My patience hanging by a thread.
“Riggs. It’s Maynard. What the fuck, dude? Slow down,” he said. Thankfully it was Troy following me. The only man on the force that I trusted. He wasn’t a man, but nonetheless, I trusted him.
“They have Grace,” I said. “At Hot Tin.”
“Who?” he asked.
“Ogres. Trolls. They were big, and she was in trouble. I was on the phone when they took her,” I said swerving around the corner where the diner sat. People in the parking lot stared at us as we tore through the lot to the bar.
I didn’t bother turning off the car when I barreled into the bar. It was quiet. Nestor slumped over a chair. Troy quickly entered behind me.
“Call an ambulance for him,” I said.
“No,” he groaned. “Get her. They will break her.”
“Who?” I said grasping Nestor’s head between my palms. “Who was it?”
“Xenakis,” he muttered.
“The Greek mafia?” I asked. “They aren’t Greek. They are Unseelie.”
“Yes, they are vrykolakas,” he muttered, then spit blood on the floor.
“Fuck. Undead. Like vampires?” I asked.
“Yes, she is royal blood. They will drain her to gain strength and power. She’s been hidden here. Someone ratted her out. Dylan, please find her,” he begged.
“Get him some help. Where did they go?” I asked.
“Out the back. I didn’t hear anything. No vehicle. They probably jumped through the trees,” he said, then tumbled out of the chair to the floor.
Troy felt for his pulse. “He’s alive,” he said. “What are you going to do?”
“The only thing I can. I’ll call Jeremiah,” I said.
I loathed calling him, but we had to get her back before they killed her. My insides churned. I wasn’t fast enough. I should have been here instead of in Tuscaloosa.
Dialing quickly, I knew Jeremiah could trace her through the tattoo.
“Good morning, Dylan,” he said smugly.
“You don’t even realize it! They took her, and you don’t even know!” I yelled at him.
“Who took her?”
“Vrykolakas,” I said.
“Fuck. Where are you?” he asked.
“Hot Tin. They beat up Nestor,” I said.
“Why was she at Hot Tin this early in the morning?” he asked.
“I sent her here. I’ll explain when you get here,” I said.
“You better have a good damn explanation,” he said. “I’m bringing help.”
With that, he hung up. An ambulance arrived to carry Nestor off to the med center. Luther Harris walked past the police tape into the bar where Troy and I acted like we were carrying out an investigation.
“Luther, you can’t come in here,” I said.
“Jeremiah told me to meet him here. What happened?” he asked. His voice was deep and gruff. Not the playful tone that I’d always heard him use with Betty.
“Vrykolakas took Grace,” I said. “We have to get her back.”
He grunted. “This won’t be easy.”
With my hands on the edge of the bar, I leaned on it hard holding myself up. My body betrayed me. I yelled slapping the bar top with my fists. The men behind me stood in silence allowing me to have this moment. A moment of protest. Looking down at my hands, they trembled. I was afraid. Scared to the co
re of me. This was more than sexual attraction. I’d had plenty of that over my lifetime. Until Stephanie, I never considered anything more. Those haunting words plagued me. I chose the wrong fairy. The thought of Grace being gone. Her long life closing this way. I hated myself more than anything. I would give my own life to have her back here.
“Let’s go,” Jeremiah’s voice broke through my agony.
“You! You made me leave!” I screamed at him.
“I know. We will get her back,” he said.
“Why? You don’t care about her,” I said.
He rushed across the room. His glamour fell, and the old man was replaced with a regal Seelie elf. His skin glistened in the dark bar. “Let’s get one thing very clear, Dylan Riggs. Gloriana is the most important person in my purview, which means you are, at best, second. I could do without you, but not her. Give me a reason to put you down. I will do it.”
“You wouldn’t,” I sneered at his finger in my face.
“Don’t test me, Serafino,” he growled.
“Jeremiah,” a deep voice echoed through the room. The walls of the bar shook as a tall figure stood in the doorway. He wore a long black robe with silver lacings and brocade. His turquoise eyes pierced through both of us like daggers. I’d seen those eyes.
“My Lord,” Jeremiah went to one knee, followed by Luther Harris and another man I hadn’t noticed.
“Well met, Serafino, Phoenix,” he said.
“Met and well, Oberon, King of the Unseelie,” I said bowing at the waist. I didn’t know the proper greeting for the fairy king. He seemed pleased with my respect.
“Tristan, this man was her protector?” he asked Jeremiah.
“Yes, my Lord, but I removed him from his position. We have found another to fill the role,” he said still bowing his head to the floor.
“Where is this man so that I can kill him?” he asked. His smooth voice never changed, yet the authority in it made me cringe inside.
