Warrior Fae Princess

by Breene, K. F.

  “Hello,” the woman mimicked, and tilted her head to the side like a bird. The light from the open door shone through her fiery halo of hair. “You have met my nemesis.”

  “Hmm, mhmm.” Charity nodded, because what else could she do? The lady looked like a villain from a comic book.

  “She has steered you true, but you will think it false,” the woman went on, and tapped her nails on the polished wood. “It will make for a standoff I have been anticipating for decades.”

  “Ah.” Charity nodded again.

  “I miss getting out. I don’t get out much anymore.”

  “Oh. Is that right?”

  “Yes. I wish to see the world with my own eyes. I wish to meet my nemesis.”

  “Right. Where’s…ah…where is Kairi?”

  “She stepped out to get you some spring water. I told her you’d be absolutely parched upon waking, and that you wouldn’t wake for some time. She believed me…because she’s crazy.”

  “Yes.” Charity rose to sitting. Her head was still in the clear.

  A pulse of her magic surged through her body then the room. Almost immediately, it bloomed and then drifted before dissolving slowly and flowing out the window to the world beyond. Only a soft pulse of her magic remained, humming within her.

  The woman smiled. “You are delightfully pure, like the spring water you will soon suck down. Untouched by customs. Unconfused by expectations. Your purpose is crystal clear, and you will prosper because of it. Down with the woman.” She raised her fist.

  “In the last few days, when my magic surged, it took a second for everyone to help me…direct it. Although it kinda feels like dissipating rather than directing, in some ways.”

  “Yes. That is because they did not know it would happen.”

  “I see.”

  “Care to go for a stroll?”

  Charity stilled. She’d been recovering and confined to the bed for a week and a half. A week of that had been necessary. The last couple days, however, she could tell she was being babied. It was a first in her life. She didn’t much like it. But she was in a new place where she wanted to be accepted. She didn’t dare refuse their care. Not even when the care was left to a crazy woman who either didn’t know, or didn’t care, what seats were for.

  “Sure.”

  Charity slowly pushed the covers off her legs, eyeing the fire-haired woman warily. Moving ever so slowly, she turned and dragged her legs over the edge of the bed. She paused and smiled good-naturedly at the woman.

  “Lovely weather, isn’t it?”

  “Oh yes,” the woman replied. “The best I’ve ever seen. Even better than yesterday. Which was also the best I’d seen, only not anymore, since this is the best.”

  “Yes.” Charity stretched her arms. “Where is everyone? Apart from Kairi, obviously.”

  “On the battle yard. Should I take you?”

  Charity froze, then tried to act nonchalant. This woman was definitely crazy, and unlike everyone else, she didn’t seem to have Charity’s best interests in mind. Charity was ever thankful for it.

  “Yup.” She stood up, not the least bit dizzy. In fact, energy practically bounced around her body. She scarcely remembered how good it was to feel…well, normal. “Your nemesis. Tell me about her.”

  “You’ll want to get dressed first.” The woman jumped from the desk with grace despite her age, then walked across the room with a strangely jerky gait, almost like she was walking for the first time. It was the oddest thing…

  After dressing in loose pants that felt like cotton, a tight black shirt, and strange bands that wrapped around her middle—Charity was taking a leap of faith regarding the fashion in this place by accepting the advice of a whack-job—she followed the woman out of the four-bedroom, two-bath “bungalow,” as her guards called it. It was only temporary until they could find something “more suitable.” These people were cracked. They clearly had no idea what she’d been brought up in.

  The fresh air greeted her, laden with the smell and feel of nature, which seemed to bolster the currents of her magic. Another “bungalow” was opposite hers, and more down a small lane that would comfortably fit two bicycles. If they had any.

  “My nemesis has a gift unlike any other, save myself,” the woman said, affecting a sort of hobble as they turned right. She waved one of her arms over her head like an ape. “She is my polar opposite, and she will absolutely detest me. She will try to get rid of me at every turn, claiming Reagan has no use for me, since Reagan already has her.”

  Charity’s blood ran cold. From what the others had said, Reagan spent hardly any time at all in the Realm, and she certainly hadn’t been to the Flush. How did this woman know her?

  Before Charity could ask, the woman was already rambling on.

  “The joke will be on my nemesis when she realizes she needs me. She and I will be two halves of the whole. Two key pieces of a larger puzzle. Soon, we will learn to unpeaceably coexist. She doesn’t yet know any of this. I can’t wait to see her face when she finally sees it.”

  “That sounds… How did you say you knew Reagan?”

  The woman held up a finger with a broken nail. Her knuckle had nail polish on it. “I do not need silly snowy balls and flashing symbols on picture cards, whatever they are. I merely need my concentration. And maybe a tea with mind alterants.”

  “Ah. Hmm.” Charity was back to nodding as they turned toward a hedge with a small hole in the middle.

  “Come on. We can slip past the jailers this way.” The woman straightened up, walked normally for two steps, and then wove her way into the hedge, somehow managing not to snag herself.

  “You’re not leading me to slaughter or something, right?” Charity asked, jolting as a stick jabbed her. “You’re not…taking me to the elves, or vampires, or anything?”

  The woman cackled. “Yes, of course.”

  “Of course you aren’t, or of course you are—”

  “But not until your quest vision flip-flops a few times. No, that’s not normal. Unheard of, actually. That’s why it is so fun to be alive right now. I’d tell you not to tell anyone about that, but I’ll be there when it does, and walk you through everything. Then your future will call, I’ll finally meet my nemesis, and Reagan will no longer be able to hide.”

  “Umm…right.” There had been too much to unpack in all of that, so Charity went with the largest issue at hand. “About Reagan. How do you know her?”

  “My, my. You are very dense.” The woman paused at the other side of the hedge. She hurried through the open space between two fences and the monstrous houses beyond, before half diving into another row of bushes.

  “What the bloody hell am I doing?” Charity murmured to herself, peering out through the leaves to see if the coast was clear. Someone sauntered down the lane, singing to herself with a lovely voice. She’d soar to the top of one of those singing game shows in the Brink. Although what was the point of money and fame in the Brink when she could live here, in peace and beauty? She would have no need for money in the Flush. No need to make things better. Things were already perfect.

  Charity ran across the opening and ducked into the bushes.

  The madwoman smiled and turned to again lead the way. “I have Seen the woman called Reagan. I have Seen her father. Most importantly, I have Seen where they meet, and how.” She ticked her finger back and forth. “But I won’t give you details. I am the only one in all the worlds—up, down, side and side—who knows. That knowledge will eventually have a purpose…” She fisted her hand. “I can feel it.”

  Ah. So she really had no idea. Fabulous.

  They emerged from the bushes in an entirely different part of town, with smaller houses and mediocre gardens. Charity looked back at the bushes. “Are those magical in some way?”

  “You are in the Realm, love. Everything is magical in some way. Just up here.” She switched back to her strange hobble, this time with both arms waving above her like an orangutan.

  “I’
m going to get in trouble for going with you, aren’t I?” Charity asked.

  “You might get a lecture about your well-being from the new, proud, though inexperienced, papa. I am going to get in trouble.” She looked down at Charity’s legs as they made their way to a break in the cobblestone path up ahead. “How do you feel?”

  Charity stretched, then grinned. “Despite being laid up in a bed for the last week and a half, I feel excellent. Better than good. I feel…”

  The woman patted her arm. “Just wait. This ain’t nothin’ yet, honey. Now, here we are.”

  They stopped at the edge of a large green field teeming with activity. The dull sound of wood hitting wood thudded repeatedly. The graceful movement and tumble of bodies excited Charity in ways she didn’t quite understand.

  “Well, greetings, Miss Charity the Arcana.”

  Charity started. Steve lounged beneath a tree not ten feet from her. She’d been so completely focused on the fighting she hadn’t noticed anyone else.

  “And hello, you nut job,” he finished.

  The fiery-haired woman cackled as she walked to the tree with a perfectly normal gait. Which raised the question: why had she been walking like an ape?

  “Steve, why are you naked?” Charity asked.

  He shrugged. “All the girls wanted to see me fight in my animal form. Our magic and ferocity turns them on. Given that these mock battles are so much work, for so little reward, I figured I’d just show them a little ferocity in bed, instead. I don’t need to change to do a little magical tickle, know what I mean?”

  She just stared at him.

  “I’m sure there’ll be a round two soon.” He touched his hand to his chest. “I’m a simple man, Miss Charity the Arcana—three women is my limit, especially these vigorous little fae. Those who were willing to share were left exhausted and satisfied. Those who wanted to wait for alone time are currently vying for Devon’s attention, soaking in his magic. They’ll be back around as soon as they realize he’s not interested.” He lay back, his head propped up on an elbow, and closed his eyes. “Thanks for bringing me. This is better than I could’ve dreamed. None of these feisty little vixens want me permanently. After a little pickle tickle, they are happy to wander away, no strings attached. Perfect.”

  “You’re so gross,” she said, really trying to be outraged, but laughing instead.

  “Only when the situation demands it,” Steve replied, unbothered.

  “Did you do them right here, under this tree? Because if not, that still doesn’t explain why you’re naked.”

  He shrugged. “It’s refreshing to saunter around in my birthday suit. I don’t have to wear those…clothes.”

  Charity looked down at herself, not understanding what the big deal was. Then again, she had no fashion sense.

  “And the men?” she asked.

  He peeled an eye open. “They don’t see us. That’s not true; they see Barbara, Yasmine, and Macy just fine—especially Yasmine—wishing the girls were as willing as I am, but they don’t see the men. We’re nothing to them. Outsiders.”

  Charity frowned, hearing something in his tone that unsettled her. On the surface, it sounded like the fae were being a lot more hospitable than she would have expected—men were territorial, and the shifters were waltzing around naked, monopolizing the women. The shifters wouldn’t have been so kind had the situation been reversed.

  “So no fighting at all, huh?” Charity said. “Even in human form?”

  “God no. What a hassle.”

  “And everyone else?”

  “Well, Macy sent someone to the healer.” He let both eyes drift open this time, studying her.

  Fear bled through Charity. “Did she get in trouble? She was allowed to stay, right?”

  He watched her like she was missing something.

  “What?” she asked.

  The madwoman patted Steve’s chest even though his large shoulder was much closer. “Ignorance is bliss…until it is not.”

  “It worries me that I understand you,” Steve murmured.

  “Yes,” the woman replied. “Your journey of finding love—”

  Steve held up his hand. “Nope. We’ve talked about this. I don’t want to hear anything about the future. I’d rather be surprised. And love is for fools, so quit knocking on that door.” The woman cackled again, and Charity got the distinct impression that the crazy laughter was for show. Or it was drugs. “In answer to your question, Miss Charity the Arcana, Macy was applauded and her technique studied. They blamed the man she injured.”

  Across the way, Charity caught sight of a powerfully robust body that stuck out amongst the lithe, lean forms of those around him.

  Devon!

  He fought with a graceful savagery that made her blood pump. The sun glinted off his bare torso as he moved through fighting poses, blocking a thrust and delivering a blow that had his opponent staggering back. His loose pants, just like hers, clung to his sweaty, well-built thighs. His messy black hair swirled around his head, and she just knew his jaw sported that irresistible bad-boy stubble.

  In fact, now that she noticed, a line of spectators waited off to the side, women all, dressed in revealing clothes and hanging on every sword thrust.

  Possessiveness, hot and fierce, bubbled up through her. Her heart hammered, and not just because of the battle she desperately wanted to join. She craved his viciousness and determination, his confidence that nothing in the world would get through him to harm her. She craved the man who had laid down his life time and again for her, the alpha who could make her feel safe even when she couldn’t protect herself.

  “He’s the only one still competing,” Steve said before Charity could start off across the field. “His victories don’t count, but he keeps going anyway.”

  Charity hesitated. “What do you mean, his victories don’t count? Count toward what?”

  Steve lazily waved his hand toward the field. “This is some sort of fighting competition for people who think they are fierce and literally have nothing better to do. It’s tied to their status in the community, I think. Being that the Supreme Alpha Woman Magnet is not warrior fae, his victories do not count. He can advance, but so does the person who challenged him. And he does have to wait for them to challenge him. It’s a bonus of some sort.” He fluttered his eyebrows. “Or something, I don’t know. But like I said, these fae like our magic. They like the feeling of fighting with it, so he has no end of challengers. The men want to best him, and the women want to fu—paint rocks with him.”

  “Paint rock—” Charity shook her head. She wanted to march across that field, challenge her love, fight him across the gloriously green field, and then drag him back to her bed and claim him. None of those chicks would be laying a hand on her goods. “Then why is he still doing this? It sounds stupid.”

  “You were resting and he wasn’t allowed to wait by your side. He needs something to do with his hands. This is why love can really sour a good time. No offense.”

  “I’m done resting.”

  The madwoman’s cackles followed Charity across the field.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Enough,” Charity shouted, strutting past the women staring at Devon in rapture.

  Devon flung his opponent back with ease. The male fae groaned as his head thudded down onto the field. Child’s play. Devon had been placating the lesser fighter. Wasting time, as Steve had said.

  Devon spun around, his slightly widened eyes the only sign he wasn’t totally composed. His gaze held hers, but he didn’t make a move toward her. Hell, he didn’t even smile in hello.

  She lowered her eyebrows into a scowl, not sure if she was angry or annoyed.

  “Aren’t you happy to see me?” she asked, bracing a hand to her hip.

  His hard expression slipped for a moment, revealing a flash of intense longing. “Yes. More than you could possibly know. How do you feel? I didn’t think they’d let you out of bed so soon.”

  “A nutter broke me out
and brought me here.” She smiled and took a deep breath as murmuring rose from the small crowd of spectators. “I feel amazing. Thanks to you. They said I should’ve died. You’ve really pulled ahead in our lifesaving competition. We’re far from even now.”

  “They wouldn’t let me wait with you. They said my magic would interfere.”

  “I felt you through the magical link. I just focused on that when I woke up.” She took a deep breath. “He’s my father. He says he’s my father, in any case. And that I look like my great-grandmother. And that I have her magic. And that these are my people and I’ll fit in here.”

  A soft smile pulled the corners of his lips. “See? The big dogs were right all along.”

  “I’m going to tell Roger you called him a dog.” She laughed, so damn glad to see his face again. “I hear your wins don’t count toward whatever fighting competition is afoot.”

  Anger sparked in his beautiful brown eyes. The green and gold specks danced dangerously. He shrugged to show his indifference, but he didn’t even come close to selling it.

  She grinned. “What do you get if you win the whole thing?”

  “Can’t. Only a fae can win the whole thing.”

  “But won’t it be interesting if you beat the fae that wins the whole thing?”

  He shook his head. “Not possible. Animal forms aren’t acknowledged. I don’t use weapons as well as people who’ve trained with them all their lives. Without my shifter form, there’s only so far I can advance.”

  She laughed again. “Your involvement in the competition isn’t acknowledged. What’s the difference if you use your animal form or not? Just wait until you finally battle some fighters worth your time. I bet they’ll be happy for the extra challenge of fighting teeth and fur. And if they aren’t?” She shrugged. “Taunt them for being cowards. Easy.”

  A grin pulled at his lips. “I missed you.”

  “I know. Now let’s see if you’ve learned anything.” She launched at him, seeing his hesitation—his worry for her—and used it to slap him across the face. Speaking of taunting.