Binding Curse: Dark Fae Hollow 4 (Dark Fae Hollows)

by T. F. Walsh

  He swung a fist.

  I ducked and drove a punch into his gut, then threw myself into a roll. Scrambling to my feet, I spun and kicked the back of his knee. He crashed forward, and I leaped onto him, driving my knee into the center of his spine. Snake-fast, I slid a blade to his neck.

  Mohawk wriggled, trying to buck.

  “The more you squirm, the more I’ll slice you.” I ground my knee into him, and he laughed, deep and menacing. It was the sound I imagined a lunatic making on his death bed. Well, if he enjoyed pain, I’d oblige, and I wrenched his bent arm backward. I reached for my handcuffs just as a heavy breath washed across my nape, goosebumps littered my arms. Still grasping my knife, I rolled forward into a cartwheel.

  The tall fae I’d fried seconds earlier stood there, his dark hair frizzed, drool seeping down his chin. Nobody got up that fast after being tasered. Ever! “What are you?”

  His eyes narrowed. I’d caught him off guard with my question. He answered, “Fae.”

  A sharp sensation prickled through me as if barbed wire scraped my insides and tore beneath my skin, alerting me that these two were fake. I didn’t need my deception power to know they imitated PPD officers. The pair carried no communication devices. Except, my concern went deeper than that, but I couldn’t figure out what had tripped my inner radar. My ability had zero to do with rule breaking, but it told me if a person held truth in their intentions or not.

  Mohawk dusted his pants and got up. As with most faes, he wore an air of arrogance, and his bone structure was flawless. He had a long face, strong eyes, and stood close to six feet tall.

  Behind him, the human remained unconscious near the fire. I hoped he was okay.

  Sure, I loved working alone, but at times like these, I needed backup to arrive. Maybe coming out here alone was a stupid move. Getting Santasha to join me would have been a smarter decision.

  “Look. Let’s talk about this. I don’t want to hurt you, but you were about to break the law.” I slid my second knife out of its sheath on my belt. A thin snap of power whirred through my veins, the energy equivalent to a lightning bolt, but it came with massive drawbacks. I could only use it once before needing a couple of hours to recharge, and it drained me to the point of exhaustion. Considering there were two faes against me, I wouldn’t make such a rookie mistake. Not again.

  Mohawk’s lips parted in a toothy smirk. With his bent nose and the healed wounds on his cheek, no denying, he was a fighter. But so was I.

  “She’s mine.” He wiped his mouth.

  “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m—”

  He charged.

  Standing my ground, I slashed a blade across his collarbone; the other bit into his cheek. Black blood bubbled and rolled. He recoiled.

  What the hell? Why wasn’t it red? Even in the night with a fiery glow, it shouldn’t appear that visceral and deep in color. Nothing about tonight was making sense. These two faes weren’t who they seemed.

  The fae I’d zapped steamrolled toward me. I stumbled back, but his fists pummeled into my chest with such force, my feet lifted as I flew backward.

  The moment I struck the ground, my lungs emptied from the impact. I gulped for air and dragged myself away on elbows, searching for the dropped knives. Dread sank through me at how swiftly the situation had worsened.

  Mohawk joined us, his lips drawn into flat lines.

  “Okay, not quite how I expected the night to go. But don’t worry, PPD will join us any second.” They’d better not let me down.

  The duo towered over me, and while fear collected in the corners of my mind, I couldn’t let myself go there. The memory brought with it grief I wanted to be tucked away, except, the recollections already leaked, sticking to my insides. Hopelessness awoke, reminding me I’d failed and the human guy would die at the hands of these monsters. Just as I couldn’t save my sister. I loathed the darkness curling beneath my breastbone.

  A glance at the fire and the mountain man rolled to his side caused me to act. Yes. Get up and run. The two fae glaring my way weren’t paying attention.

  I climbed to my feet, but Zapper rammed his hands into my shoulders. Rage rose through me, and I tasted bile.

  “We don’t negotiate with filth,” he said. “You’ve tainted this world, and—”

  Mohawk elbowed his buddy in the ribs. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “How about you two work out your lovers’ squabble someplace else?” The mountain man was awake, so if I got him to safety, maybe the night wouldn’t be a waste.

  I recoiled over dried leaves and twigs, my fingers banding around a branch on the ground.

  Both faes exchanged glances, then twisted to stare at me in unison, sour grins capturing their expressions.

  No time to waste. Zapper was there. He knocked my feet out from under me, and my arms pinwheeled for balance. I landed on the ground with my hip, and he straddled me, his mouth on mine. He inhaled deeply, sucking the air out of my lungs. Frozen in fear, I fought the dizziness.

  I slammed the branch into his head, sending him sideways, but Mohawk kicked my ribs.

  The groan was involuntary, and I curled in on myself, spots flashing in my vision and my gut aching.

  Another blow to my stomach, and that time, my cries were muffled as I doubled over on the ground. Fire burned from the inside out. Before I could stop myself, I stabbed a hand out. A spark of white electricity crackled and arced from my fingers, hitting Mohawk in the solar plexus.

  He stumbled, shaking uncontrollably.

  Zapper skidded to his knees behind me and locked an arm around my neck. I slammed my palm into his face, concentrating, forcing the energy to flow, but nothing came. Flat as a car battery.

  The fae squeezed. I punched behind me, connecting with his face, but the fucker wasn’t loosening his grip. Darkness crowded at the edges of my vision. Images of my sister, Nyx, flooded my brain… her dying in my arms… me unable to help her. I’d made a promise to stop anyone from taking another life. Now, paralyzing fear spread through me that I’d become another victim. Fright snowballed in the pit of my gut, and I bucked for escape.

  In a sudden movement, my attacker flew sideways, and I slumped to the ground, hungrily gasping for air.

  Lethargy owned me—drained and too tired to move. I shouldn’t have used my energy. Sometimes I wondered if the gift was more of a curse.

  The mountain guy sprinted toward Mohawk and drove a burning log onto his shoulder, keeping him down from my earlier shock therapy.

  Get up! I screamed in my head.

  I staggered, tiredness sticking to my muscles, and I collected my knives, the world wavering.

  Zapper called out from farther behind me, “You’ll be dead soon enough. Scum like you don’t have a place in our future.”

  A laugh broke past my lips, dark and menacing.

  “Y-you’re full of y-yourself.” Damn, were my words slurring?

  “Bitch.” His lips contorted, and he staggered toward me.

  I hurled a knife at him, but he moved, and the weapon sliced him above the collarbone. Again, black blood dripped from the wound.

  He hobbled closer, and I booted him in the groin. He bowled over.

  “Yeah, bet that hurt.” I wasn’t above dirty tricks, especially when my opponent used them.

  He flinched and kicked me in the jaw, the sole of his shoe ripping skin from my chin. My teeth clenched so hard from the impact, it reverberated in my skull. Golden dots smeared my vision, and an explosion of pain shuddered through my head.

  Behind him, the human teetered closer, grasping a fiery stick. He whacked it across Zapper’s back.

  Mohawk reappeared from around the flames. Hell, why weren’t these faes staying down?

  Pulling on every ounce of my strength, I shoved my hands into his side, then tore my blade across his shoulder. He reeled and crashed onto the campfire.

  Dread spiked in my veins because I didn’t want him dead. Otherwise, his binding partner would also die. I reached a hand out to
him, but he rolled out the opposite side, bellowing his pain. Half his hair had burned, arms singed, and he cried, lying in a fetal position. His body seemed to shimmer.

  I rubbed my eyes, clearly imagining things.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Mountain Man asked.

  “So much,” I replied.

  In the distance, debris crunched, and footfalls pounded the ground. Zapper crawled over to his buddy.

  I lifted the comm on my wrist, pointing the screen at the two dickheads and snapped a mugshot of each. A wave of exhaustion overtook me.

  Shadows shifted amidst the woods in the distance, and my heart jammed into my rib cage. Was it PPD coming from the opposite direction to the city?

  Mountain guy turned and ran the other way. “You coming?”

  I picked up my second knife and replaced both into my belt, just as five figures emerged from the forest. None were militia. No marking on their necks either. Since when did the two races work together in the Outlands? What the shit was going on?

  One guy pointed in our direction, “Получить ее.”

  “Screw this. No one’s catching me.” Sometimes running was the best choice. I forced myself into a sprint after Mountain Man, my legs aching. “Why are they after you?” I asked when I caught up with him.

  “’Cuz they’re fae and don’t give a shit about me?”

  I cut him a glare that went unnoticed. He leaped over logs and ducked under branches. “Are they friends of yours?”

  “Never seen them before.”

  A quick glance behind revealed the newcomers had fanned outward, coming for us.

  Everything I’d seen tonight was wrong. From the fae’s dark blood, to why they hunted humans. Were they the ones responsible for the sudden spike in murders? Kill a human so their binding fae would also die, and vice versa.

  We kept moving, but my throat had become scratchy and dry.

  Bursting free from the confines of the forest, I ran on pure adrenaline and passed the boulder, our speed picking up. I tapped my comm. “Dispatch. Where are you? Being pursued. East of the city, near Sky Rock.”

  “As much as I’d loved the company,” Mountain Man said, “this is where we separate. See you later, peacekeeper.”

  The way he used the last word irked me. He was mocking.

  My heart beat faster, harder, my brain firing negative scenarios. With no captives and small leads, I’d lose a potential clue as to the dying fae. The chief would blame me for not waiting on backup. Without another thought, I careened after Mountain Man, handcuffs in hand. Upon catching him, I snapped the cuffs around his wrist, the other on mine.

  He retreated, but I raised my weapon. “Try me, and I’ll cut your sorry ass.”

  His gaze flipped over my shoulder, eyes wild, voice racing. “We’ll both die.”

  “Then do the right thing and run to the city.” I squared my shoulders.

  And with that, the thud of footfalls escalated. I spun to discover two newcomers from the campsite closing in.

  “Go.” I didn’t wait for a response and hauled the mountain guy with me, but he didn’t move. I tottered backward from the cuffs keeping us locked and crashed into a wall of muscle.

  I pushed myself away. “Are you insane? We need to run until help arrives.”

  “I should have left you in the woods.” He spat. “This is what I get for helping a damn peacekeeper.” The massive guy broke into a run toward the city, dragging me alongside him.

  “You PPD are all the same. Hypocrites,” he continued.

  “Yeah, heard it all before. You’re a hater. Join the club.”

  Sweat beaded down my spine. I pumped my legs, my boots striking the ground with each tread. The city lay in the distance as if it were a beacon of salvation amid the darkness and the sight of it kept me moving forward.

  If the assailants wanted Mountain Man dead, I’d find out why. And just maybe, my team would get our first clue as to who was killing humans and faes.

  Chapter 3

  I bolted for my life, handcuffed to a guy built like a mountain. Sure, he might be eye candy, but he’d throw me over a cliff if he got the chance. I mean, everyone in Kutia Hollow had secrets, but most of them didn’t get people killed. I suspected Mountain Man’s could. Maybe cuffing myself to him wasn’t such a great idea.

  Heaviness sank within me. Why were the attackers at the campsite so determined to murder the man next to me? Especially since it was considered a double homicide.

  The last time my deception radar went off with such ferocity, I found a fae chained in a basement in the town of Podolsk. Turned out, a gang was selling fae blood to the highest bidders. Ingesting it in high doses worked as a drug—uppers that made the users float through euphoria, confidence, and energy. But after a binge, the hangover struck, and dependency owned them. Another reason faes kept within the confines of the Moscow wall.

  Up ahead, the city shone. I hit the dusty ground with each step, but behind us the drumming footfalls grew closer.

  I tried to pick up speed, but Mountain Man lagged.

  When a siren wailed through the night, I focused on the blue and red light throbbing in the distance. The cavalry! About freaking time. Two patrol cars steered toward us through the dark flatlands. A sense of satisfaction brought a glimmer of optimism to me as I pictured them catching the attacking faes.

  The guy on my cuffs pulled against his restraints.

  “You ain’t going anywhere,” I said, glancing beyond him. The assailants retreated and now sprinted to the woods, any hope of catching them dashing away too.

  The cars angled several feet away from us and halted, dust billowing into a plume. Santasha stuck her head out the roofless patrol vehicle. “Luna, you okay?”

  “Two faes on foot.” I pointed to them. “They attempted to kill a human.”

  Santasha turned to the second car. “You heard her boys, go.” She flicked her hand toward the forest, and the second car raced after the attackers.

  “Get in.” Santasha jumped out and opened the back door. Her attention fixed on Mountain Man, who had his head down, gasping for air. “Who’s this?”

  He straightened his posture. The moon’s reflection bounced off his broad shoulders, making him look bigger than I remembered. My gaze fell to the sharpness of his jawline. The thickness of his eyelashes put mine to shame. Damn, he was handsome.

  Santasha gave a sexy smirk, the one she used when she eyed hunks. “Well, today’s your lucky day, buddy. You get to ride with us to the city.”

  He stiffened, pulling against my cuffs. “I did nothing wrong. You can’t take me in.”

  With a swipe, I activated my comm and snapped a shot of the ink on the inside of his arm. A black leopard, mouth open, teeth exposed. Unlike his other tattoos, stars on his collarbone indicating he had authority in gangs and kneeled to no one, or the spider on the inside of his wrist, facing down, denoting he’d left the criminal lifestyle, the feline was different. A cat traditionally resembled a sign of a thief, except the cat inks I’d seen in the past often wore a hat. I submitted the image into the system for analysis. Within seconds, the answer popped up on my screen.

  “We’ve got two people on file with that ink. Considering one is dead, and I have a photo that looks a lot like you but with bloodshot eyes… I’m going to say you’re Axel Kozlov.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched, and he ran a hand across his chin. “That’s not me. Must be my twin.”

  Santasha broke into a giggle. “Damn, you actually used that line.” Was she flirting?

  But Axel’s stoic expression wasn’t budging, and he stood tall, had to be six foot two.

  “Says here you’re wanted for burglary, assault, riot, property damage, town destruction, disturbing the peace, resisting arrest… I can keep going. Quite the rap sheet. That’s reason enough to bring you in.”

  He tilted his head down, and with raised eyebrows and widened eyes, he spat the words, “По́хуй, по́хую.”

  “
Yeah, I don’t give a fuck either, but listen. Answer our questions, and we might overlook your crimes. Now, take out all your weapons and drop them on the ground before my friend Tasers you.”

  He shrugged as if nothing in the world could touch him. Damn, talk about aloof. “My stuff’s back at the camp site.”

  “Then you wouldn’t mind if we searched you,” I suggested.

  Axel cut me a sharp look, maybe a dare, and hell yeah, I was going there. Uncuffing myself from him was too high a risk, regardless of how much I craved to feel him down. “Santasha, you got this?”

  She pounced forward, shoving the Taser onto her belt. I shouldn’t care, but a spark of jealousy struck.

  Santasha stepped behind him and patted down his sides, his chest. She smirked a filthy smile, resembling the times she’d chatted about sex. Which was a lot. I shook my head and thumbed through my messages on the comm. No updates.

  “Boots are empty. Only has a flashlight and keys in his pockets. He’s clean, Luna.”

  “Okay, get in the car,” I said.

  At first, he didn’t budge and stared at Santasha and me. Because at his size, he was damn intimidating, but I wasn’t backing down. Finally, he climbed in and shuffled over. I followed since our hands remained joined with cuffs.

  Santasha hopped into the driver’s seat, turned the ignition, and broke into a U-turn, swerving around boulders, and flooring it toward the city. Wind ripped through my ponytail, blonde strands whipping me in the face. I tucked them behind.

  Axel spoke while looking away. “We helped each other out tonight. I saved your ass. So any chance of letting me go?”

  “Can’t do that. But I promise it’ll be just a few questions.”

  “Nothing is ever a few with PPD.” Intensity darkened his voice.

  “I give you my word. Tell us everything we need to know, and you’ll go free.”

  Santasha cleared her throat. We both knew once an offender with a rap sheet as long as my arm came in, the chief used him as an example to other criminals. But getting intelligence about who murdered people and faes was a higher priority than his petty crimes.