The Raven Trilogy- Complete Series

by Elle Lincoln

  Which is exactly what we did now. Later I’ll look back on that and try to remember how I did it, but for now, I shimmer into nothing but small, fine particles of existence. I fall beneath loose fingers that stretch out for me as I sink to the floor, and in the next moment, we fly outside.

  Chapter 22

  Bette

  The Mist in the Forest

  I shimmer and tremble through the night air. My translucent body is invisible. In fact, I couldn’t even say exactly what I was at that moment besides unseen. I can hear the guys cursing and formulating their plans through the door. But they soon fade away into the background. I focus and draw the Sluagh closer, feeling the weight of their voices pushing at my conscious to seek vengeance for those with no voice.

  Those who fell at the hands of the Fae.

  Those who can no longer fight for their lives.

  We. We can bring the world back into balance.

  It’s then I realize that for all my faults, that this is what they made me for. Perhaps I was born a meager human. But no more. They chose me. Just enough corruption in me to not blink at the things that need to happen. I realize now the necessity. A warmer heart would not have been able to handle what happens next.

  Because there is only one end for a creature without morals. Death.

  I drift out to the edge of the clearing. The forest thick beyond our sight. They didn’t bless me with superhuman vision, instead, I watch the shadows. I listen. I wait.

  My patience blesses me. Just beyond, movement catches my eye. I drift closer.

  There.

  My expectations of the Fae were slim. How do you judge the appearance of a race you’ve never met before? You can’t. The imagination drifts and wakes images of the boogieman. Creatures that are ghastly to behold with large bulbous heads, long arms, and slobber hanging down from their lips.

  This is not at all what I see. No, the Fae before me reminds me of those in my dream. Magnificent beyond anything I’ve ever seen. Perfection exemplified. As the creature accidentally steps into a moonbeam. While his tactile clothing makes me pause, all black cargo pants and a black t-shirt, it’s his face that is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

  His skin, flawless and free of imperfections, has a light that radiates outward. His hair is a pearlescent white that shimmers like glitter. The beauty is otherworldly, reminding me just what we were dealing with here. I mustn’t forget that.

  His green eyes are cold and completely barren of emotion, sending a chill up my spine.

  I become acutely aware that I’m not alone. That more of these beings are surrounding the woods—though I believe I’m rather far off at the moment—thus endangering the men within. I need to solve this puzzle. And quick.

  I push outward, waking the entire horde. They push back, their response a muted surge of excitement.

  Seek.

  I command them. I call to them and they reply in kind. The area surrounding me deepens with the surge of the Sluagh, their misty forms shadowed as they deepen in the fog.

  Hunt.

  They surge forth, diving inside the creatures before us. Giving the Fae no time to react. The Sluagh acting as judge, jury, and executioner. Their crimes filtering through my conscious. My anger grows with each image that feeds through me like a movie reel. I can’t contain my reaction as nameless face after face dies before me. Actions too horrifying to behold as blood spills and their magic rises. I can smell the sickly sweet scent as though I were right there.

  I concentrate on the Fae before me, reacting to the screams of his brethren falling, succumbing to my little ghosties. He’s screaming into a walkie-talkie. His words foreign, beautiful, and yet imposing. I seek through the Sluagh, seeing through their eyes. More Fae are just beyond.

  Something isn’t right. This is a trap. The first wave is nothing more than a sacrifice. What kind of being sacrifices it’s own?

  I reach out, my darkness welling within me, I allow it to filter in through the Fae before me.

  Only. I can’t.

  Panic envelops me. No. This isn’t how this is supposed to go. I’m in charge here. Me. Not these creatures who are power hungry. No.

  My shock renders me visible, the weight of gravity and regret sinking upon my shoulders. My legs stumble and I lock my knees to prevent myself from falling. My anger surges through me and I try to become the mist once more.

  Only, I can’t.

  “There you are,” the Fae before me says, and I hate his voice. The melodic tone sinking into my skin like a balm. But I know, even the most beautiful of creatures may hold their ugliness deep inside. Hidden from the world with a well-crafted mask.

  “Here I am.” I lift my head. My chin jutting out with a confidence I don’t feel. Because now, it’s no longer the Fae that are screaming, but the damned souls under my protection. Their pleas vibrate through me, causing me to falter. I try not to show my alarm, but it’s beyond useless, it is all I feel.

  The glee on his handsome features is almost more than I can take. But I swallow my emotions and my pride. Because now I realize just how fucking pointless it was to not listen to the guys. My guys, whose combined age spans millennia. A vast well of knowledge to my measly twenty-seven years. Regret churns my stomach, causing it to squeeze. I should have listened, but I’m too headstrong. A lesson I will do well to never repeat, as long as I can get myself out of this situation.

  “Right now I bet you’re feeling the wild hunt dissolve and die.” He’s so smug. My mind screams and rebels. I unconsciously seek out their presence inside of me. They are there, but faint, so fucking faint. He believes they are no more, but he’s wrong. I can feel it. The fog has dissolved into a mist, no longer ethereal. Now it’s just a reaction of science. “It took us years, centuries, to prepare for this very moment.”

  He steps closer and I stand my ground, noticing for the first time how tall he is compared to my small five foot four frame. He towers over me. Without the majestic ability of the Sluagh I’m transformed back into my simplistic human self. But one thing this bitch had was an attitude in spades.

  “Your reputation proceeds you,” I lie—it doesn’t. I didn’t even know of his existence until yesterday. That was yesterday, wasn’t it? I dismiss the thought.

  “Good. Then you know you cannot stop us,” he sneers.

  So they know what we are after. I’d question how, but I’m too new to this development. I say nothing in reply.

  “We need you lady of the hunt. As you are well aware there is a war about to rage. And you are on the losing side. With you, we can end it quickly.” His lips spill forth his lies. I may not be a lie detector, but I am no fool.

  He leans down and I catch his scent of honey and wine. It’s so pleasant I almost moan in response. I curse my reactions. How? How can I react that way? My mind rebels and my stomach spasms once more.

  His voice disrupts the air, causing his breath to feather over my skin. But he isn’t one of my guys, this Fae is devoid of empathy. He may look like love and light, but he isn’t. As he touches my cheek, I feel nothing but a chasm of cold that shudders through me. “The men who kidnapped you are now in our possession. Come with us and we will let them go.”

  He’s referencing my guys and he’s wrong, I have no doubt about that. They wouldn’t be foolish enough to become trapped like me. Except, somehow along the way I only thought like the Sluagh. I’m more than that.

  I can still fucking run. The hell with this asshole. I turn on my heel and dash through the forest, heading back toward the cabin. I’m having flashbacks to when I ran through the fog, lost to their forgetful spell. A lifetime ago, and one I can’t dwell on right now.

  At least this time I’m not barefoot. Branches slap at my face, tear at my clothing, and cut my skin. I hear the Fae give chase, and I swear I can almost feel him on my heels. I didn’t realize how far I’d gone. Once again I’m left cursing my idiotic nature. I need to learn how to be this supernatural being. Because clearly, I’m failing at it right no
w. Too bad Casseus didn’t gift me with Supernatural for Dummies as a parting death gift.

  I feel relief as the edge of the clearing comes into view, my lungs not even burning with exhaustion.

  A force knocks me down to the ground just as I see Balor in the distance, fighting with an ax. He’s formidable and a force to be reckoned with. I’m allowed a small moment of pride before my own struggles take precedence.

  My head slams into the hard ground. Bits of rock and dirt grind into my skin. Painful splinters dig in as the Fae puts pressure on my back and head. I feel his arm across my neck, cracking the bones of my spine. I scream into the lush earth as pain splinters through me.

  “Call them off my people.” He emphasizes his demand with another push on my spine. My limbs twitch and a breathy moan escapes my starving lungs. His weight is unforgiving as it presses into me. My eyes can hardly see beyond the blades of grass that saturate my vision. The pressure and pain upon my neck gnaws and grinds on my nerves.

  And yet, somehow, a laugh bubbles its way from my lungs. It sounds like a strained gasp. But its presence is conveyed to the Fae on my back, and he takes it for what it is. A rebuttal to his request. This foolish, foolish man thinks I’d actually tell my guys to back down? Never. I’d rather die all over again.

  Oh hell. At that moment Balor’s words ring through me.

  There are far worse things than death.

  I have a terrible feeling I’m about to find out exactly what those things are.

  He slams my head once more into the ground, the skin on my cheek splitting open on a rock. Blood wells and warms my cold skin. “Call them off.”

  No. I can’t even reply as his pressure increases, I no longer feel the pain. I’d be dead if I were a mere mortal. The crack of my spine echoes in my head and my breath strains. My oxygen trails off to small gasping increments. My vision tunnels but I don’t lose consciousness. No, that would be a blessing and one he won’t allow me.

  I try like hell to become the mist again. But I can’t. How is he doing that?

  “Wondering how I can keep you from dissolving, are you?” I just want to slice his smug face. Give him one of those clown faces with a sharp pointy knife.

  Obviously, I don’t answer due to a dwindling air supply. Or it may be my broken voice box.

  “Oh, oops.” He lifts up just slightly, realizing I can’t answer him because he went too far. Generosity doesn’t exist in a villain, he slams me back down, detaching my spine from my body.

  This time I do lose consciousness. I misplace the brief, sweet fucking serenity as I become conscious far too quickly. I just want to sleep and join my ghosties. My head feels really weird, floating from my neck. How the hell does one heal from this?

  “None of that now. I do actually like my victims coherent.” How kind of you.

  Just how many freaking Fae are there out here? How many did they sacrifice? The sounds of battle wages on. I hear the grunts and cries, and I can only hope my guys are destroying every single piece of shit Fae.

  Speaking of, he jerks me upright. My head lolls to my chest. It would be comical if only... Okay, it’s kind of comical even in the current circumstance. It seems he got exactly what he wanted out of me. I’m aware, yet I can’t respond. I feel claustrophobic in my own skin with the inability to participate. I squash down a surge of panic.

  I’m hoping like hell the guys don’t forget about me.

  “We need to go.” I’m thrown over a shoulder in a fireman’s carry. My head dangling.

  Fuck, it’s the oddest sensation.

  “They are looking for her.” My guys? I dismiss this new voice.

  “Are we hidden?” My Fae nemesis speaks.

  “Yes sir, glamoured from view.”

  I need them to hear me, to know I’m here.

  My mind flashes to the feathers like a sixth sense trying to tell me something important. I marked Balor and Casseus after getting a taste of their souls. Their delicious, intoxicating souls. When I saw it earlier, I felt panicked and trapped by such an idea. Now it may just save me.

  I close my eyes in concentration. Blocking out the steady thump thump thump of the body who carries me away. His heartbeat calm and centered. I may not know him or like him, but that doesn’t mean I can’t utilize him to help me concentrate.

  Fuck, it’s all I’ve got.

  I slow my heart that still somehow beats in a frantic gallop. I wonder if my veins are broken in my neck. Focus. One. Two. One, two. I let my mind drift in the way it does when I call the Sluagh. That tether to them pulls tight, yet still thrums enough to let me know they live. Where? I’ve no idea since they don’t heed my call. I push that thought aside for now. I’ll have to find them later. When my head is fixed. I look deeper, finding the two threads that filter out of me and wind away on invisible strings. With a mental tug, I pull, yanking on them.

  Then I pull again and again. Harder and harder the farther we walk away. Thoughts of torture dance through my mind. Didn’t they dismember Balor? I can’t feed my anxiety, I can’t.

  A high-pitched whistle splits the night. My captors stop.

  “What was that?” the man holding me asks with a rumble.

  “I don’t know. Hurry.”

  We pick up speed, darting through the woods. Again that whistle sounds and I tug on my links to Casseus and Balor.

  My captors skid to a stop.

  “Is that…?” The one holding me sounds worried. Good, I’m sure that whistle is my guys. I wonder what they have up their sleeves.

  “It can’t be.” My nemesis sounds in awe. Then horrified. “Don’t touch them! Don’t let them touch you.”

  I’m thrown from my captor and into the woods, where I land with an oomph on a broken log. I still can’t move my fucking head, however my peripheral dances with the sight of small creatures. Lizards, snakes, and bugs too large to be normal. I try not to squirm. I try not to think too deeply about the huge praying mantis-like creature that stalks me through the logs and bramble.

  Its movements are jerky and its insect-like eyes cock to the side. They’re all too knowing. Those creepy black depths are inhuman. I only hope these fuckers are on my side.

  A scream pierces the night. Then another, rendering the forest into a deep silence. The sounds of battle suddenly broken by the empty calm. Another whistle splits through the night air. The insect scurries away, along with its knowing glare. Shuffling spikes my nerves.

  “Oh, there ye are!”

  “Bette!”

  Hands fall on me. The sounds of Casseus and Balor follow Patrick and Mac’s arrival. I’m so tired. My body, knowing I’m safe, now tugs at my consciousness to let me heal. But I have one more thing to do. I tug at my darkness, like a kinked hose it flares from me now that I’m no longer suppressed. My dark soul stretches like a cat then awaits my command.

  I reach out toward Mac and Patrick, diving into them, searching for their souls. I don’t invade their memories, I have only one purpose.

  To mark them as mine.

  Chapter 23

  Balor

  Moments Earlier

  I watch as the stubborn woman slips beneath my fingertips. Her body vaporizing into a fine mist that slides down my body and under the door.

  She left.

  Everything inside of me explodes, the beast awakening and snarling. I can barely contain him. His echoing roar reverberates inside of my skull as I, the man, stand in shock, staring at the worn wooden door. My eyes catch on each knick and dent, as though those imperfections will bring back the most perfect thing I had ever been gifted.

  Curses behind me filter into my troubled head. A warm palm lands heavily on my shoulder, and a squeeze calms the beast with soothing waves. I peer over to my friend Mac. The only man to ever see good deep inside of me. I owe him so much for that one generous thought.

  “We will get her back. She couldn’t have known.” I watch as his throat swallows, the thickness in his voice reflecting my own emotions. “She reacted on inst
inct alone.”

  I can only nod in reply. I glance down to my chest, wondering what that feeling is settling there. That ache and pain. I rub my sternum feeling for injury.

  “That right there is what it feels like to care, my friend.” Mac’s words, spoken softly, are for me and me alone.

  Still. I don’t understand this. This creature I hardly know. How can she settle so deeply inside my being? And so quickly? I don’t understand it and I can’t dwell too long. We need to get her back.

  I am ready to do what I had decided to never do again. Use my eye to destroy my enemies. I rub the worn leather covering the poisonous artifact. For her and her alone I’d break that promise.

  And fucking gladly.

  I turn around, the others stopping mid-conversation to look at me. They study me with hopeful expressions as though I will lead them. I don’t know how I feel just yet about that, but in this, I will lead them to get her back.

  “Patrick, do you have an extra ax?” I’d never call the man by anything other than Patrick, such as Trick or Scratch, he isn’t tricky and the nickname would never apply to him. He wears it like a mask that is completely translucent to me.

  “Aye.” I could see the excitement rise in his hazel eyes. I met the man once, long ago. Something drew me to him then, I saw a potential ally. I still do. Even if I am at a disadvantage with these men. Their friendships had years to grow and develop into a brotherhood. A foreign concept to me long ago, but now something I yearn for.

  This new life teases me with hope.

  “Good, the shed?” He nods at my question. “Casseus, can you feel the Sluagh?”

  “Yes, now I can.” He rolls his eyes before picking at his mustache. The curl becoming more prominent in his worry. I can’t say I blame him and in fact... I empathize. What an odd emotion to feel.

  “Go scout and report back,” I command him.

  “I think…” He looks at me, unsure. “I think I can connect with you.”

  My head jerks at this. The action involuntary and it cracks my stiff neck. “How?”

  “I think she not only linked us to her, but to each other.” He rubs a weary hand down his face, that curl of his mustache now in disarray. “I’ve been trying to jump into her head, but I think the Sluagh have me blocked. I’ll try with you once I’m out.” He walks to the door, cracking it open. “If you feel a tug, just, ah… let it happen. Alright?”