by Brie Tart
“It won’t make them break out in a big war like Ailpien wanted?”
“Oh no, not if justice has already been done to all those involved with Ailpien’s experiments,” Yoel reassured. “At worst, they’ll amend the treaty to make it more strict and prevent other Seelie from copying what Ailpien tried to do.”
“Good.”
A silence passed between them, not uncomfortable, but uncertain.
“I suppose this is goodbye,” Yoel said.
“You sure about never seeing us again?” Helen may have been stalling, but it was a genuine concern. “Not sure I want to visit you because of all this fae shit, but I wouldn’t mind staying in touch.”
“As lovely as that sounds, and as much as I’m sure you can handle yourself against the assorted nasties of the Unseelie court, I don’t think that would be best for her.” He nodded toward Lucy. “I’m willing to help you as much as it takes for you two find your way, but more than that would be too dangerous.”
“I guess you’re right.” Helen smoothed back Lucy’s curls as the girl shifted. “It was nice having someone around who knows about all this stuff.”
“If you ever need me professionally, you know how to find me.” He squeezed Helen’s arm. “A pleasure working with you, Miss Carver.”
“Same to you, Scribbler.” Helen offered him a small grin as she climbed out of the passenger seat.
Yoel held out her machete and gave a sad kind of smile back. After Helen took the weapon, he drove off.
* * *
Helen woke up Lucy long enough to give the girl a bath before tucking her into a nest of motel pillows and blankets. She spent the next hour in the shower, washing off the muck and blood and grime from her body. There wasn’t a mark on it, but she felt all her throbbing scars as she processed through the events of the last few days.
She let herself have a breakdown in the water as she came to grips with the undeniable fact Tommy was dead. Again. At least she knew how and why this time. He’d gone down trying to protect his family. She’d gotten rid of the one responsible for his suffering once and for all. That closure only helped so much.
Before she had a purpose to drive her, and the uncertainty about what happened had given its own kind of hope. The finality of having slaughtered him herself didn’t offer any of that.
This time had too many what-ifs to go with it. What if Yoel had come sooner? What if Tommy had held out a little longer? What if she’d pushed herself even more? Would anything have been enough to change what happened? Would her uncle still be…
She forced herself to focus on the decision she’d been putting off instead: what should she do about Dylan?
Dylan had tried to kill Tommy, and only failed because Ailpien intervened. He was an agent of the Seelie, whether he wanted to stop that or not. He had left to try and bail Helen out of trouble his boss had created, and put himself in danger by doing so.
On one hand, she wasn’t sure what she’d feel if he never came back from asking the Seelie Queen to spare her. Would she miss him, knowing who he was and what he’d done? How would she break the news to Lucy and console the girl whose world revolved around her father?
On the other hand, if he did come back, Helen wasn’t sure if she even wanted to stay with him. His attempt to kill Tommy had to be under somebody else’s orders, right? The Seelie would have threatened her and Lucy if he hadn’t, in that case. That didn’t change things, though, did it? If she couldn’t forgive him, she’d have to leave him. But how would they sort out Lucy with all of that fae stuff hanging between them?
Helen’s head pounded as she stepped out of the shower and patted herself dry. Her fingertips were pruned and shriveled. She’d used up the whole bar of freebie soap that came with the room. Yoel had promised to pay it through the rest of the week, so that gave her some time to plan how she would get money next.
As she pulled on the clean pair of jeans she’d set on the toilet, Ailpien’s last words echoed through her mind like an afterthought. What he said couldn’t have actually meant what it implied. He’d been trying to screw with her, to throw her off so she wouldn’t kill him.
She knew a way a way to test it.
Yoel had left Helen the machete, sheath and all, just in case. It laid by her clothes on the toilet. The steel blade had proved that it burned fae skin on contact.
Dylan wasn’t there to touch, but Lucy was.
Did Helen want to know for sure? No, it wasn’t a matter of wanting, but a need.
Helen tugged on her clean tank top over her bra and grabbed the sheath. She opened the door slow, its greased hinges hardly squeaking.
Lucy lay in her nest and breathed peaceful. The girl was nothing less than an angel, perfect in every way to Helen. She couldn’t be one of them. It was impossible.
But all of the Seelie she’d met looked like that, angelic and perfect.
Helen tiptoed on the thin carpet as she approached her daughter’s bed. She slipped the machete out of its sheath, only enough that the flat of the blade stuck out so she could press it to Lucy’s arm. It wouldn’t be much, just a light bit of cold. It might startle her daughter awake. Helen could explain it away to the four-year-old before tucking her back in. All she had to do was check. It would set her mind at ease. Then she could finish figuring out what she wanted to do with Dylan.
She pressed the flat of the blade down with steady hands. Nothing would happen but Lucy yipping because of the cold metal touching her. There wouldn’t be any black lines or smoke or burns. Her little girl was fine.
The steel pressed against Lucy’s forearm.
Lucy cried like she’d bumped her head.
A thread of smoke wafted up from under the flat of the blade.
Helen pulled the machete back and shoved it into its sheath. She stared at her daughter as Lucy cradled the little red burn with faint gray veins and sucked on it. Tears started in her big eyes as she stared up at her mother with confusion.
Helen’s heart beat faster in her chest, a mile a minute. Ailpien had told the naked truth. Dylan was one of them. Lucy was one of them.
Helen scooped her daughter up and held onto her as the girl moaned over her boo-boo. She rocked the child in the bed as long as it took for her own heart to slow. She’d never been so scared, even after being dissected over and over again for hours.
Dylan was one of them. He was a Seelie fae.
Helen wanted Lucy, and knew deeper than her smallest cells that her girl was innocent and sweet and blameless. Like Yoel, Lucy had human in her veins. Helen hung onto that.
Helen had no idea about Dylan, though, and how he’d hidden that from everyone but his superiors. She thought back to all the times she’d seen him touch silverware and the faucet and...She couldn’t think of a single time he’d touched something made of steel or iron. Plenty of other things that were aluminum plated, plastic, or paper. Not steel though, not without a ready excuse, or gloves.
She could rationalize some kind of no-win explanation for Dylan trying to kill Tommy. Discovering that he wasn’t just some human servant cornered into betraying his family changed everything. If he’d been a fae this whole time, none of what she thought she knew added up. It meant he was like all the small fry fae she’d killed, like Ailpien and his sadistic lackeys—dangerous.
She had to leave, had to run. She couldn’t wait for him to come back.
“I’m sorry, baby girl. You’re okay.” Helen gently pried Lucy’s hand off the wound. It had become smooth, fresh skin. “See?”
Lucy sniffled as she looked up at Helen, her lower lip trembling.
“C’mon.” Helen hiked Lucy up. They had to disappear. There were bloody clothes she’d thrown on the bathroom floor. If she left those, Dylan might think somebody killed Helen while he was gone. She could work with that. That meant she had to leave her boots, her wallet, her keys, her bike. “We’re going on an adventure. A fun one this time.”
“Where?” Lucy perked up a bit as got comfortable on Helen’
s hip.
“I-I don’t know,” Helen said, her voice audibly shaking as she struggled to keep it steady. Her hands shivered around Lucy’s waist. She had to focus, had to get to the door. “That’s the fun part.”
“What ‘bout Daddy?”
“It’s a secret Hellfire adventure.” Helen shuddered. “Just us girls.”
“Mam?”
“You trust me, right?”
Lucy nodded as she hooked her fingers in Helen’s shirt.
“Alright.” Helen opened the door to the room and stepped out, the cement cool on her bare feet. “Let’s go, Diamond Girl.”
Helen walked out as fast as she could, then ran into the empty road. She headed into the dark unknown with the clothes on her back and her little girl. Just the essentials. From there, she’d figure out the rest.
Message from the Author
Thanks for reading Sweet Child! This is book one in the Heart of Hellfire series. Helen’s adventures continue in book 2: Bleed For Me.
See what’s going on in the fae underground by signing up for my monthly newsletter or checking the blog at brietart.com.
Enjoyed the story and/or want to leave feedback? Please rate and review! Every star and sentence helps.
Also By Brie Tart
Exiles of Eire
Iron & Ivy
Treason & Treasure
Heart of Hellfire
Sweet Child
Bleed For Me
Mama Kin
About the Author
Brie Tart writes character driven fantasies (with a touch of romance) for teens and adults. Mythology and folklore have always inspired her work, and with every story she seeks to find the humanity in the monsters of legend. When not writing, she deciphers languages and makes her own adventures with her family: her jack-of all-trades husband and photogenic, fluffy cat. Follow her escapades at www.brietart.com.
Acknowledgments
This book, nay this series, can be credited to two sources. First, Tia, because they continued to encourage my obsession as they witnessed the countless transformations of this story and its characters over the years. Second, a little text-based MUD RPG whose world and players helped spawn Helen Carver, and inspired her adventures (you know who you are).
I want to thank my steadfast team for all their hard work getting Sweet Child ready, the talented professionals who worked with me on making this book sparkle, as well as the advanced readers who provided their valuable feedback.
