dark faerie 04.5 - without armor Page 4

  I cursed under my breath and rubbed at the spot he’d slammed into me. He was purposely trying to get on my bad side, I could feel it. I wouldn’t let him win. He wasn’t worth the breath it took to get pissed off and lose my head over his bullying tactics. Why Isolde kept him around was a mystery. He was going to get his just desserts soon enough if he kept prancing about like that. Good luck doesn’t come cheap. I knew that better than anyone else in this group.

  Maybe he was just a jealous pig.

  I rolled my shoulders back, yanking my sword from its sheath. I stretched, still mildly sore to my utter disbelief, but ready for the coming fight. From the sound of it, there had to be maybe five to ten faeries inside. I could take them down, but I was pretty sure Ciaran and Isolde wanted in on the action. This group was responsible for attempting to kidnap their comrades.

  It didn’t matter much to me who these people were. They blasted me with some strange new disabling magic and I wanted to get my payback. Simple as that. I didn’t need any better reasons than that.

  “Benton!” Isolde madly waved me over and I joined her at the side entrance to the warehouse. I pressed my back to the cold aluminum siding until the tiny window in the door revealed the darkened interior. They had a couple of fires going inside, probably burning boxes and whatever was stored here for firewood. They had no regard for property or human life. It made me sick that someone’s livelihood was literally going up in flames as I reached out to try the knob.

  It turned easily, and I gave Isolde a tiny nod. She signaled to the rest of the group to be ready to fight any second now. I waited until she captured everyone else’s confirmations and gave me the all clear.

  I loved to get that one.

  I yanked the door open and rushed inside, igniting the flame of my sword and slicing one of the two guards posted nearby. He’d jumped to his feet, a scatter of cards flying through the air as he reached for his short sword. But he never made it before mine cut through the material of his thin leather armor and linen shirt, straight through his flesh. The fire from my blade was more than just for show, it gripped the Unseelie’s body, coursing through his veins like liquid flame and setting his entire being on fire.

  It would consume him in a flash, leaving nothing but a pile of ash and dust.

  Isolde was fighting off the second guard, not taking long before she took him down with a quick jab to the chest, hitting vital organs until he dropped to his knees, choking on his own blood. She shoved at him with her boot and raced to meet the next foe. I had to admit, she was an amazing fighter. I could get used to fighting alongside her. I’d never seen her in action and I was almost star-struck like an idiot if not for another figure approaching my side, lifting a huge mallet over their head, swinging it right down to me.

  A swift whistle of air rushed past my head straight into the guy’s head. His eyes froze in a surprised expression as the huge mallet slipped from his hands and clanked to the floor. His body wavered, his arms still extended before he fell backward, smacking the back of his head right on the lump of his mallet.

  Dark black blood pooled everywhere, and I chanced a glance to the rafters where Ciaran glared down at me, a smug smirk on his face before we both looked away to assess the rest of the room.

  Damn jerk wanted to rub his save in my face. Not cool.

  It was mayhem. I could see Frack dodging one of the warriors by jumping from pallet to pallet of wooden crates while his pursuer smashed a path through the rows of cargo. Analie was squirting what looked like oil slicks near them in hopes to catch the Unseelie unawares and send him crashing to the ground.

  I’d have to deal with the likes of Ciaran later. This place was already turning into an all-out war of chaos.

  “Ah!” a grunt from another Unseelie male, possibly a minor troll from the look of his sickening green skin and sausage fingers, as he swung a sword near my head. The subsequent rush of air lifted the ends of my hair as I dodged him instinctively and rolled away. These guys were getting too close for comfort.

  He huffed out a breath, sounding congested and wheezy as he turned to relocate my position. I was already on him, sword in hand as I swiped at his knees, burning a hot slice into one thigh before his sword blocked the rest of the cut.

  Damn!

  I jumped to my feet as the troll laughed a belly rumbling, ear shaking cackle.

  “I’m not so easy to dispose of, Elemental. Your fire powers are weak against my kind.” He swiped at the flame burning at his pants, putting it out a final hiss of smoke. His malicious grin gave me an excellent view of jowls with oversized sharpened tusks on top and bottom the color of dark rust.

  “Good to know.” I shifted positions, watching out for other Unseelie as I waited for the troll to make a move. A deafening crash of crates followed behind me, but I couldn’t spare a glance to make sure Frack and Analie were okay. Some of the others were fighting on the other end of the warehouse and I had no idea where Isolde and Ciaran had run off to.

  I was alone in this corner, but that didn’t bother me much. Needing just one little weakness to impale the troll, I could take him down, even with his apparent resistance to my magic.

  I’d read something once, hadn’t I? Long ago, in one of the archives in my family’s magical Pyren. Sometimes I wished I paid more attention to the magical history studies my mother made us read all the time.

  What had the grimoires and scrolls told about trolls?

  He stepped forward, not a lick of pain gracing his features. Instead, an almost joyful sneer was filling up his face now as he held out his sword again and readied to swipe it at me.

  I stepped back, easily avoiding his wild aim.

  “You think you’re so smart, human. No human can compare to the Unseelie. We are old, the ancients of the land. We’ve been here before you. We’ll be here long after your taint has died off from the land.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” I retorted, seeing his little speech had rendered him careless. I jumped onto a crate nearby, ran across three more, jumped and pushed off another box to head over the troll’s head. Bringing down my sword I severed his neck with one sleek slice before he could get another self-righteous word in.

  Landing on my feet on the other side of him, I watched him begin to sway, his sword clanging like a thousand spoons clamoring to the floor when he dropped it. A moment later, he crashed to the floor and the fire of my Empyrean blade consumed him whole.

  The rapid incineration never failed to impress me.

  “Benton! Look out!” Isolde’s voice echoed from behind me. A moment too late, I felt her shove me to the ground as a deafening explosion ignited the dark lit space surrounding us.

  I could hear nothing but ringing and my eyes failed to focus as the scene wavered before me. Feeling the cold cement warehouse floor underneath me, I pushed at it with my slowly returning strength.

  Blinking hard, my eyes teared up from the flying dust particles as I managed to flip over onto my back. Convulsing into a coughing fit from the impact, my breath returned at a snail’s pace as I desperately scanned the surrounding area for Isolde.

  “Isolde?” My raspy voice came out faint, but I heaved out another cough to clear my airway. She still didn’t answer me. “Isolde? Are you alright?”

  The chaos of room slammed into me as my hearing returned, slamming the noise into me like a freight train. Voices clamored with desperate cries of fear and aggression, reminding me we were still fighting—still locked in battle. No matter how badly I wanted to remain pressed to the cool cement floor and drift off to sleep, I fought the urge with all I had left. Sitting up, I found Isolde, her arm extended out and part of her body buried under a heap of destroyed crates and debris.

  “Isolde!” I jumped into action, feeling a wave of dizziness, but I shook it off, choking on the dirty air as I made my way towards her. Reaching for her hand, I felt for a pulse.

  There…underneath her smooth skin was a weak, thready pulse holding on for dear life. “Hold on…�
� I told her, “I’m getting you out of here.”

  Her eyes fluttered but failed to stay open. Her breathing matched her pulse: slow, shallow and struggling to continue. I gave my perimeter one last glance, knowing I’d be no help to her if I got offed before I could get the heap of debris off her body. Finding the fighting had moved closer to the middle of the warehouse and the offending culprit who’d set off the explosion was lying still as stone to my right, I felt confident we were alone. The guy was most certainly dead, which made me want to resuscitate him just to incinerate him for our troubles.

  Turning back to Isolde and noticing her pallor growing, I hurried to shove the crates to the side. Heaving with all my breath, I pushed at the wood. Whatever was inside them had to be either heavy metal statues or boulders for it wouldn’t budge more than a couple inches. Pausing for a moment’s rest, I gave it my all once more with a touch of momentum aimed at the pile.

  “Fuck!” It didn’t budge. “Come on!”

  “All brains, no brawn?” The most annoying sound in the world came from the person now hovering over me, his eyes studying the predicament before us. “Isolde?” His eyes widened as he realized the person I was helping was her.

  “Yeah, it’s her.”

  Ciaran pounced into action, grabbing at the pile with his slender arms and hands, trying as he must to move the pile too. His efforts were no better than mine. He’d already forgotten his taunt a moment earlier seeing his comrade buried and barely alive.

  “It won’t move!” Ciaran’s panic grew as he attempted to move the hunk of junk in front of us.

  “No shit,” I muttered. He had to be Captain Obvious of course. He continued his pathetic attempt to move the cargo until I reached his side and placed a hand on his arm.

  “Don’t touch me, human!” He spat, swiping at me. His hatred shown full glory as he shook me off.

  “We can’t do this alone. We have to push together.” There was no more ridicule left in me. Isolde’s life would fade if we kept at odds. “She needs us both, Ciaran. Let me help.”

  The faery warrior’s face fell, his large eyes filling with glistening tears of frustration. Glancing down at Isolde, who was probably his only true friend in this horrible world filled with injustice and inequality, his good sense had a mind to show up right then. He gave me a nod and motioned me to help.

  “Ready?” I asked, my shoulder wedged against one side of the crate pile. He bobbed his head again, his fingers curled and digging into the wood.

  “Go!” We both shoved at the bulk of the debris groaning as our arms burned and our chests heaved.

  The pile succumbed and moved with our combined strength. Ciaran may have been weak in magic, but his power was impressive for a scrawny toothpick-like him. The pile slid away smoothly this time and we continued to shove at the splintered wood, large pieces of bronze metal and other statues kept padded with Styrofoam peanuts scattering all over the place, digging Isolde out.

  “Isolde?” I checked her pulse again. Weaker and weaker her pulse grew and each thump filled me with a frightening terror as they faded from my touch. “Come on, girl. You can’t leave me this time. It’s too cliché.”

  “Isolde!” Ciaran stooped on the other side of her, already fumbling through his pack for some healing supplies. I pulled out the last of my healing draught from Braelynn, my sister’s sorceress friend. The draught was a faery potion and it was meant for severe injuries and she’d cautioned me to keep it for myself. But how could I withhold medicine from Isolde? I could always get more, right?

  I held it out to Ciaran. “Here. This could help.”

  He stared at it, confused. “What is it?”

  “Faery draught. Healing actually. That’s what the sorceress Braelynn told me. She said to be careful how much I took of it for it was pure faery magic. We should give it to her. It could save her.”

  Ciaran checked his pack one more time and frowned, worry filling his features making him look exhausted.

  “Do it.” He nodded toward the potion, and I quickly uncorked it. It looked like silver mercury liquid and smelled like blood. I grimaced at the tincture, but with the help of Ciaran, we lifted Isolde more upright and dumped a mouthful past her perfect, pale pink lips.

  She was fading so fast. I could barely feel her heart beating under my fingertips. The energy thrumming under her skin was stilling, barely able to keep her life force going.

  This had to work. It had to…

  Chapter Ten

  I couldn’t believe my eyes and nothing I’d seen in my short life could’ve prepared me for what happened next.

  Isolde never woke up. In fact, her skin became more translucent, like milky glass with the faery draught meant for healing extreme injuries. Not only was she paler, but her lips were a dusty rose that morphed into the color of quartz crystal. Her long hair smoothed down, slick and shiny, but hard as diamonds. Her entire body glowed with an ethereal light that I was afraid to touch. It lit up the area like a spotlight, making it easy to see who was left of what side. Luckily, the explosion had not only taken down the culprit Unseelie, but three others as well. The two stragglers left of the group scrambling out the windows they’d manage to break.

  Unseelie weren’t too bright sometimes.

  Frack ran up to us and peered down at Isolde. “Is she dead? Should we follow them?”

  I shook my head. “She’s still alive, somehow. I’ll catch up to the two cowards later. It’s over.”

  “Why isn’t she waking up?” Ciaran’s puzzled look made me wonder if there was something I should’ve known about the draught.

  “I have no idea.” I held up the bottle to the light, watching the translucence through the metallic color. It looked like ordinary faery draught to me. It was the same exact bottle I’d taken a sip out of earlier…

  It felt...off somehow.

  “Wait a minute…” I placed both hands curled around the opaque blue glass and closed my eyes. In my memory, I remembered reading a scroll about deception magic. It didn’t take much to unveil it…if you knew it was there. Most of it depended on the victim being caught unawares that the curse had been laid.

  “Ostendas…” I whispered the antidote spell for a deception curse. The moment the word left my mouth, the bottle vibrated and spun out of my hands, smashing to the ground. Now, instead of silver mercury liquid, a shimmery white fluid sprayed the ground where the bottle had shattered to bits. It wasn’t the right potion. It was something other than faery healing draught and I didn’t like the look of it whatsoever.

  This had a dark magic to it, and I’d been fooled.

  “Who did this?” I demanded. My fury tumbled forth like a rushing tsunami. I was an Elemental warlock, capable of feeling out the magics of others like a sixth sense. How could one potion get past me? The culprit would’ve had to have been extremely close to me to get it in my pack in the first place. Whoever had tricked me, wasn’t Unseelie at all.

  It was someone close to Isolde who’d gotten too close to me too.

  The last revelation turned my stomach. I knew who’d tricked me, but I couldn’t let them escape just yet. Not until I knew why and how to undo this mess.

  “What’s happened to her?” Analie had appeared and kneeled next to Isolde. The glow continued, casting her in an angelic way. If no one were the wiser, she could pass for a sleeping angel.

  “She’s been revealed,” I whispered under my breath.

  Analie’s large yellow eyes flicked up toward mine, innocent and worried.

  “What do you mean by revealed? Revealed as what?”

  “She’s not part elven. She’s something else. She might not even be a faery. I’ve never seen or heard of a reaction like this to a reveal curse. Nothing is making sense.”

  “Which means she’s not who she said she was,” Ciaran added. His face observed Isolde’s with a strange mixture of awe and curiosity. Not the kind of awe which made one scared, fearing the worst. This kind of spark was led by pure malicious intent done pu
rposely.

  “Why would someone want her to reveal her true nature?” I asked, hoping to trip Ciaran up. If he was behind this, what would he gain? I never knew him as Isolde’s friend in high school, but she hadn’t said much about their relationship, had she? And if Ciaran was right about her being different, had Isolde been aware of it? Had he?

  The questions didn’t leave me feeling much better. I’d have to grab Ciaran any minute now. Best to keep that I was on to him to a minimum. He knew more than he was putting forth. Everything about him was wrong.

  “The Unseelie have their ways,” Ciaran offered though his eyes were hooded, lost in his own daydream. About what, I was pretty sure it was about Isolde’s true nature.

  “I have to get her to a healer. Come on.” I stepped forward, but Ciaran’s arm flew up slamming into my chest to stop my momentum.

  “She’s not going anywhere with you. You gave her that potion. This is all your fault.”

  “What? You can’t be serious.” I laughed and shook my head. “You changed the draught in my bag this morning. You bumped into me dropped the duplicate bottle into my bag after you saw me drink from it the night prior. You planted it there, didn't you? Why? Isolde’s your friend. Why would you do that to her?”

  A unified gasp rang through the group as others returned to see the commotion after securing the outside of the warehouse. For a scraggly group, they were well organized. I gave all the credit to Isolde and not her conniving second in command.

  “Since you came here, the Unseelie have tried to kill us. It’s you who’s been nothing but a taint on our existence. I don’t see what she saw in you.”

  I watched his face turn facets of red, pale and then purple as he threatened me. I didn’t care. I could see right through him.

  “Why’d you do it, Ciaran?”

  The others watched on, afraid to move. Afraid to do anything.