Shot in the Dark (Shot in the Dark Trilogy Book 1)

by Mary Dublin

  Without a word, she settled down onto her stomach, letting her wings lay spread on her back. Folding her arms, she rested her chin on them and resolutely kept her eyes on the walls' images. She maintained this posture with diligence even as Cliff wandered right past her, those studious green eyes poring over her from above.

  "Jon drools in his sleep, you know," he announced over his shoulder.

  It was with a little relief that she heard him climbing into his own bed without making to touch her again.

  "So do I," she replied matter-of-factly, trying to at least make it appear Cliff didn't bother her. She turned to look at him with disinterest. He lay on his side, propping his head up facing her. Despite her attempts, his shameless stare made it impossible to hold her tongue. "Do you make an effort to act this way, or are you naturally irritating?"

  His eyebrows shot up at her change in demeanor, but a smile soon followed. "I like to think I'm pretty charming."

  Silence followed Sylvia's scoff. She looked away, determined to not inflate his already-massive ego by gracing his comment with a response. When he spoke again, she gave a small start.

  "How's your wing feeling?"

  Sylvia turned her head in surprise, catching concern in his tone. "Like it has a hole in it," she answered, flaring her wing to show him. Feeling a twinge of guilt, she hesitated, then allowed a small, good-natured smirk in his direction. "But I'll live," she added, fanning her wings a little and peeking over her shoulder. She frowned, unnerved by the circular hole, and not only because of the pain. "How… how did you even do this? You weren't anywhere near me when it happened."

  He blinked, a look of understanding coming over him. "You've never seen a gun before."

  Sylvia scrunched her face up at the word. "What's a gun?"

  His jaw squared. ”It's a weapon. It shoots little bits of metal out of the front. Catches things far away, if you've got the aim for it."

  Her confusion morphed to terror as Cliff pulled a small "L" shaped metal weapon out from under his pillow. Its long, hard snout glinted in the same way as the thing he had held earlier. That thing had made the deafening explosion she'd heard right before it tore through her wing. Going cold, Sylvia scrambled backward on the pillow, her feet tangling in the coarse fabric.

  "Relax, relax! I'm not gonna shoot you." He hastily stowed the thing back out of sight and held his hands up. "I didn't mean to shoot you before, either."

  Her fingers wound into the pillow as she frowned and parted her lips uncertainly. Next you'll tell me you didn't mean to say I should be kept in a box. She held her tongue on that because she swore she heard something softer in his voice. This was probably the closest thing to an apology she'd get from him. The doorknob turned, breaking the uncomfortable silence and allowing her to dodge telling Cliff that she couldn't possibly forgive him while she was still their captive.

  Jon was shaking his head at something as he exited the bathroom. Then he paused, looking between them. "Everything alright?"

  "Swell." Cliff averted his gaze from the fairy and rolled the other way.

  The room was bathed in darkness as Jon hit a switch on the wall, followed shortly by the bed quaking as he slid under the covers.

  Sylvia shifted on the pillow, trying to find a comfortable position for the night so she wouldn't roll over and strain her injury. She turned her head in the direction of the giant man occupying the other side of the bed.

  "Goodnight, then," she said awkwardly. She wondered for a moment if Jon kept one of those guns under his pillow. Somehow, her heavy eyelids fell shut even after the thought crossed her mind.

  A short laugh floated through the darkness. "Yeah, uh… goodnight."

  Jon shut his eyes for only a moment before another thought struck. He sat up halfway, facing Sylvia. "Hey, if you need something, just wake me up. I'm a pretty light sleeper."

  She didn't answer. He squinted down at the tiny silhouette. Sylvia's tiny chest rose and fell evenly. She was already asleep.

  But in her slumbering mind, the battle had only just begun.

  Four

  Jon tilted back a late night drink of water, hoping the cool drink would ease his tossing and turning. He should have known better. No amount of midnight refreshment would change the fact that there was a freaking fairy on his pillow.

  He shuffled back into the bedroom, his tired steps rasping against the ragged carpet. As he passed Cliff's bed, a whimper cut through the dark. It was so faint, he passed it off as the building creaking. He got into bed, and the whimper came again, closer this time. Jon scooted to the side and leaned over the pillow the fairy slept upon, her form just visible in the moonlight streaking through the window. She was curled up with her hands clutched close, sounding vaguely like a wounded child.

  Tentatively, he touched a fingertip to her skinny arm. Her skin was soft and so cold. "Hey… er, Sylvia."

  Her eyes snapped open and locked onto him. She clamped her hands over her mouth, muffling a panicked cry. There was a glimmer of tears on her cheeks as she shuffled away from his finger.

  "No, please!" she whimpered, voice barely audible as she buried her face in her hands.

  Jon could only stare in shock for a few seconds. He knew he wasn't exactly her favorite person, but her intense reaction felt entirely out of place, as if she wasn't fully aware of where she was or what was happening.

  "No, it's okay!" he whispered urgently. "You're fine! It's… it's just me."

  It occurred to him belatedly that his presence could provide little reassurance, seeing as he was one of the people who had forcibly abducted her. She wasn't human, but she certainly didn't deserve to suffer needlessly. He had to do something.

  Besides that, she was on a swift path to tumbling backward off the pillow.

  After a beat of hesitation, Jon scooped her up in one hand and gently stifled her writhing against his chest. "Hey! You're alright."

  Sylvia released a choked sob and continued struggling weakly as he lay halfway down on his back, but it took almost no effort on his part to subdue her movements. He wrestled with what else he could say, but all at once, she stopped.

  "J-Jon?" she stammered, sounding disoriented but no less terrified. There was a pause as she seemed to process what was going on. She sucked in a sharp breath and struggled anew against his bare skin. "Oh no, I… I wasn't trying to leave! I was just having a bad dream! Please. Please don't put me in a box, o-or take my wings, or—"

  "Sylvia," he cut her off, cautiously lifting his hand off her and tilting his head down to see what she would do. She stopped squirming and propped herself up shakily on the slight incline of his chest. When she didn't bolt, he spoke up again. "I know you weren't trying to leave. You were making noises in your sleep. I couldn't just… I had to snap you out of it."

  Even in the dark, he could see that she wasn't convinced. She was tense, wings folded back as if to hide them from him. The injured one was flared out slightly. With the way her wings caught the moonlight, it was easy to see the shape of the bullet hole.

  He inched his hand toward her again, not entirely sure how to go about comforting a fairy. Her shoulders heaved, and she ducked her head, almost prompting Jon to draw back completely. But he finished his action, placing his index fingertip gingerly between her shoulder blades. At her size, he wouldn't have expected to feel any finer details. He was wrong. He could feel the tips of her short hair tickling the side of his finger. He could feel the tension under her skin. He could feel her trembling.

  "I'm not going to put you in a box, and I'm definitely not going to take your wings," Jon insisted, deeply disturbed by the latter. It had never crossed his mind to do such a thing, but she said it so readily that he had a feeling she'd feared it from the very beginning. She didn't move, didn't answer. "Listen. You're going to make it out of this without getting hurt anymore."

  Sylvia raised her head, and he felt some of the tension loosen on her back. He couldn't make out the color of her eyes at the moment, but in her sil
ence, he imagined those tiny green irises moving up and down. Studying him.

  His assurance went unanswered for a time, but then her soft voice floated out. "I believe you."

  Jon let out the breath he had been holding. There was something gratifying about hearing her say that. He moved his finger off her back, observing her translucent wings settle into a more natural and relaxed position.

  "I must have been pretty loud to wake you up," Sylvia said sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

  "No, it's fine. Couldn't sleep anyway."

  "All the same. I didn't mean to worry you." She sniffled and brushed a few stray tears from her face. "Thank you," she said after a moment, offering a small smile. "For being concerned about me. It was nice of you to wake me up from that."

  His breath caught as she yawned widely and blearily relaxed right into his bare chest. Blood rushed to his face and he stared, unsure what to do now that she was showing gratitude instead of fear.

  Put her back on the pillow and call it a night.

  His resolve vanished when Sylvia's cheek rubbed against him, soft as satin. Her little form was curled up to him like a kitten now, and he couldn't bring himself to pry her away. Not yet, at least.

  "I've had my share of bad dreams," he explained, glancing around. "Things I wish I hadn't slept through."

  He carefully laid all the way back down upon the rumpled sheets, letting his hand rest somewhere below Sylvia's feet. To his surprise, she did not flinch and a light chuckle shook her shoulders.

  "What could possibly scare you?" she asked through another yawn. She turned on her stomach and rested her head on her folded arms to continue peering up at him with drowsy eyes.

  "You'd be surprised."

  He held his breath as she squirmed again to get comfortable, but she settled down soon enough and so did he. Jon took deep, slow breaths. He was exhausted enough himself now to be intrigued by the way she rose and fell so easily with every one.

  "You can sleep, by the way," he assured. "I promise I'm not going to dismember you while you're out." Though it was hard to tell in the dark, he wore an amused expression.

  Her wings flicked suddenly and then folded back down. The briefest look of alarm crossed her miniscule features, but it was replaced by a sleepy smirk.

  "Oh, I'm not suspicious at all now, but… alright," she mumbled, her tiny face turning away as she rested her head. "Only because you promised."

  A small noise that might have been a laugh escaped him. Then a secure silence settled over the room. Jon waited a few minutes until he was fairly certain she was asleep. Careful to avoid her wings, he moved his hand over her like a blanket. It covered nearly all of her. Fairies turned out to be even smaller than he ever could have imagined. Just as pretty, though. He rubbed his thumb up and down her impossibly thin arm. A pencil must have been thicker!

  Surprisingly, it was this simple motion that finally lulled the man to sleep.

  ***

  "Come on, now. Cuddle time's over."

  A gruff voice intruded on Sylvia's rest, though she hardly registered it. A burst of light somewhere to the side followed, and it didn't fade. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, cringing. How could there possibly be so much light in her room?

  Far from being awake or aware, she gave an annoyed whine and buried her face deeper into her arms. "Mmph. Hazel! You know I told ya to stop waking me up." She yawned. "Ugh, lemme sleep just a little bit more…"

  A sound suddenly rumbled beneath, like a gigantic groan. She flinched in surprise, but found she could hardly budge. She was restrained.

  It was then that she remembered that she wasn't in her bed at all. She went rigid as the foggy memories returned. Had she… slept on a human? Opening her eyes, she looked over her shoulder found Jon's hand resting heavily upon her lower half. She whipped her head to the side and spotted Cliff sitting at the edge of the other bed, glaring in her direction.

  "Jon," the blonde man said in a voice louder than the one that had woken her up.

  Sylvia's world abruptly shifted. Jon was turning over, but even in his half-conscious state he kept her tucked firmly against his chest, leaving her powerless to stop him. Blood draining from her face, she writhed wildly. His hand alone weighed so much, she had no doubt in her mind she would be smushed if he ended up lying facedown.

  "H-hey!" she cried. "Stop!"

  "Huh?" He stopped halfway, prompting a sigh of relief from the fairy. She tilted her head back to look toward his face, finding a pair of drowsy brown eyes peering back down at her. His fingers curled, easing their way beneath her before carefully pulling her away. No sooner than he had stood, she was lowered back to the mattress and released onto the warm indent his body left behind on the mattress.

  Heart still racing, she stared up at him, unable to shake the knowledge that such a simple movement as him turning over had put her in danger. She wondered if he even comprehended what he could have done. He looked like he wanted to say something, but Cliff was ready to round on him the moment he got out of bed.

  "What's wrong with you?" Cliff hissed at him.

  "What?"

  "We don't get attached to these things," he reminded him. "And here you are, all snuggled up. She's a fairy, Jon."

  "Piss off. She had a nightmare." Jon brushed past him gruffly toward the bathroom door. "It's not like she's a monster…"

  Cliff's irked expression didn't relent, only found a new target. Standing over the fairy, he cocked his head at her.

  "Who's Hazel?" Cliff asked.

  Sylvia straightened up at her sister's name. She blinked at Cliff, scolding herself silently for letting her mouth run when she hadn't been completely awake.

  "I-I said… Hazel?" At first she tried to play dumb, but she couldn't stop her expression from hardening. "No one," she replied stonily, turning to face the pillow and hugging her knees to her chest. "Don't worry about it."

  Cliff crouched down by the bedside. Water could be heard running behind the bathroom door.

  "You protecting her or something? I guess I can respect that." His hand crept up from behind, but before she could escape, he pinched under her arms and turned her around to face him again.

  Her breath caught in her throat. Remnants of her last night's bad dreams flashed through her mind and she squirmed on instinct. He could do it. If he really wanted to, he could do it. Snap her ribs, or reach around to rip her wings. But the pressure beneath her arms eased. The thick fingers withdrew, and she wasn't about to spur them into coming close a second time by being stubborn enough to turn away again.

  She settled down and tentatively raised her eyes to him. "Then you understand why you can't ask questions like that," she said, sounding reasonable enough. But she couldn't help the edge that remained in her tone, nor the stern glare she aimed at him. Not Hazel. You're not touching Hazel. "You're taking me back soon anyway, aren't you? It doesn't matter who she is."

  "You're kinda cute when you're defensive," Cliff hummed. "I may not be as cuddly as your boyfriend in there, but I'm not going to hunt down your whole species, 'kay?"

  Color rushed to her face. "I've only known you for a few hours, and I wouldn't exactly call you trustworthy. I don't know what you're capable of doing."

  Cliff accepted the insult without arguing, pursing his lips and tilting his head in a way that admitted he knew he hadn't exactly put his best foot forward.

  A pause drew out between them, the casual "boyfriend" comment still echoing in Sylvia mind. She bit back a wince, realizing how she must have looked, sleeping on top of Jon. She recalled Jon mentioning a woman the night before.

  "And it isn't like that," Sylvia said. "Me and Jon. How stupid do you think I am? He mentioned someone named Leeana last night… who's she, his girlfriend?" She snorted. "What, you think I'm trying to seduce him into leaving her?"

  Cliff frowned faintly, fixing a look of fresh intent on her, like he was trying to figure her out. Then he shrugged. "Not like you'd have to do much." He smirked tensely as if this were
some private joke. "Things have been rocky between him and Leeana for a couple months now."

  Sylvia stole a look at the bathroom door and snorted. "That wasn't a serious question." Desperate for a change of subject, she furrowed her brow. "So, these missing people. What exactly do you think you'll find in that house?"

  He tilted his head curiously at her, a wondering look in his green eyes. Whatever was on his mind, he let it drop for now, sitting down beside her instead.

  "Not sure," he answered. "We think it's some type of rabid dog."

  She scooted away from him a bit, but managed to keep a calm face. However, she did shiver at his theory. She wasn't the biggest fan of animals, but she generally went unbothered by them. Any beasts that roamed close to the village were kept under control by fairies who specialized with wildlife. Something rabid was far more unpredictable.

  "Right," she said casually. "Well, I hope you two find what you're looking for once you let me go. I would try to help, but I doubt there'd be much I could do."

  The water shut off in the bathroom, and the shower curtain opened distantly. Jon could be heard moving around.

  "What do you expect us to do, just leave you on the floor again?" Cliff scoffed. "We can't let you go until we find this thing."

  Her eyebrows shot up, and she was on her feet in the blink of an eye, clenching her fists at her sides. It was hard to look serious while fighting for balance on a giant mattress, but it didn't stop her from trying.

  "I know how to get around the area just fine without my wings, thanks. I've lived there my entire life, even before I learned to fly," she said hotly. She hesitated, fearing what answer she would receive. "And say I don't agree to stay with you until you kill whatever this thing is. What if you don't find it tonight? You'll just keep me against my will?"