Lugh shrugged. “If you find this trial too daunting, you are free to leave.”
My mouth opened and then closed. Damn him. Sluagh were nasty creatures. Dangerous and vicious and made from pure evil. They were basically the walking dead, but stronger. They knew how to wield weapons, and they’d do anything to tear out someone’s eyeball. I could take on a few, but an entire vault full of them? No, thanks.
He lifted his eyes from my sword. “What will it be? Decide carefully, Moira. If you walk away, you will not be allowed back inside this castle.”
“You made me sign a blood contract to come inside here.”
“And?” He arched a brow. “The contract says nothing about allowing you to join this Court. It does not bind us to you. It only binds you to us, and your freedom to speak of this place.”
I ground my teeth together. That would teach me for not reading the entire bloody thing.
“How many Sluagh are down there?” I demanded.
“I honestly don’t know,” he said dryly. “The vaults are swarming with them. The path you must take will likely bring you into contact with a couple dozen of them. If you’re lucky.”
Furious, I stabbed a finger into his chest. “A couple dozen? You honestly expect to put a new recruit through something like this? It could get me killed.”
Or worse.
“Careful.” His voice was as smooth as chocolate as he pulled my finger away from the black shirt that clung to his toned abs, but his eyes flashed with danger. “I wouldn’t want to have to call my guards.”
“Right. Like you need their back up.” I swallowed hard when he kept a tight grip on my hand. “Who the hell are you anyway? Where’s the old Master of this House? What’s up with the Court of Wraiths? I’ve never heard of a fae named Lugh. I know I’m an outsider, but I’m shocked rumours haven’t spread about what’s going on here. You’ve made up your own bloody court, one not recognised by the rest of Faerie.”
His smile stretched thin, and his hand tensed around mine. “My name isn’t known because I do not want it to be. And the truth about our court is in the name. We are wraiths, Moira. The world outside these ancient stone walls does not know what we do in here. And if you pass this trial, you’ll become a wraith, too.”
Shivers coursed across my bare arms. His words both electrified and terrified me. I wanted to take him down, more than ever, but I also wanted to run screaming in the opposite direction. Wraiths. Visions of nightmarish forms in hooded cloaks flashed through my mind. Memories I thought I’d hidden so deep inside me I’d never have to remember them again.
“Let me guess.” He dropped my hand. “You want to back out of this trial. It’s too dangerous for you to handle.”
“No.” I bristled. “’Course I don’t. I’ve fought Sluagh before. Easy peasy.”
His dark as night eyes widened, and he suddenly looked keenly interested. Too keenly. “When would a solitary fae have fought the walking dead?”
I wrapped my holster around my waist and grabbed my sword from where he’d leaned it against the wall. “You don’t know what it’s like out there. Not when you’re sitting up here in your fancy castle, doling out dangerous trials to fae who simply need a roof over their heads.”
Dammit. I really needed to stop snapping at the traitor. Being my usual bristly self would get me nowhere. I needed to play nice, no matter how much it made me want to scream.
For a fleeting moment, I thought about ending this entire thing right here and now. I had my sword. He had no weapon, at least that I could see. None of his guards were in here, and I had a pretty good idea the route I’d need to take to find the front door.
It could be over before he took his next breath.
Silence hung between us, heavy and loud. The world slowed around me as my magic caressed the sword strapped to my side. The steel seemed to pulse in time with the beat of my heart. We were in sync. That was how it worked. It knew everything I thought, every move I wanted to make. It would be in my hands, and I wouldn’t even have to blink.
“I’m going to call for my guards now,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving my face. “You have one more minute to make up your mind.”
A flush crept up my neck, and I didn’t know why. Instead of calling to my sword, I just stood still. Why didn’t I go ahead and take care of him now? One flash of steel, and it would all be over. One slice of my sword, and I could be down the hallway, heading for the exit door.
But even if I’d slain many enemies, I’d never killed a fae in cold blood. If I chopped off his head in this room, without proof of his crimes against the crown, I’d be just as bad as his traitorous arse.
I lifted my chin. “Call them. I’ll fight.”
His eyes flickered, and his shoulders sagged. He almost seemed disappointed. Had he hoped I’d back down and scurry out of here with my tail between my legs? That only made me want to show him up even more. Not only would I survive these vaults, I’d do so in record time.
Unless the Sluagh ate me, of course...
As soon as he cracked the door and called for his guards, new unease roiled through me. Why, oh why, did it have to be the Sluagh?
Anything else. Vampires, werewolves, sorcerers with insane spell-casting abilities. Hell, even fae, like this one. The Sluagh were the one thing I feared more than anything else. Except for those nightmarish figures in my mind, figures I’d tried so hard to block out.
Oh, and that bloody prophecy I’d gotten decades before. The one that spoke of my doom.
“You’re looking kind of pale.” Amusement shone in Lugh’s dark eyes. “Not cut out for the job?”
“Maybe if you doubt my skills, you should fight me yourself,” I shot back.
A thrill went through me when he crossed the room. My chest constricted as I was forced to drop back my head to meet his eyes. Somehow, the distance between us had vanished. Only a single sheet of paper could fit between our bodies, and I could practically feel the beat of his heart syncing up with mine, and syncing with my steel. His magic curled up my neck, sliding against the delicate skin beneath my ear.
I refused to shudder, even though my body begged to shake. I wouldn’t let him see that kind of response.
“That is awfully tempting,” he said in a low growl that sent skitters of hot magic down my spine. For a moment, I held my breath, half hoping he’d volunteer to fight me and half dreading he’d make that call.
The door pushed open, and several fae spilled into the room. The power pulsing between us snapped away. Lugh, smirking, stepped back and turned toward his subjects. One was the purple-eyed door greeter, Saoirse. Two more I’d noticed standing solemnly in the back corner of the Great Hall, a female and a male, both with fiery hair. They were clad in all black with swords strapped to their backs. Warriors, no doubt.
Lugh zeroed his attention in on Saoirse. “Well?”
She gave a quick shake of her head. Lugh frowned, and then tsked.
What the hell did that mean?
He turned to me, eyes flashing. That blood-curdling magic shot through my veins once again. “Very well then. Moira, it’s time for your trial.”
4
The vaults were dark, dreary, and creepy as hell. I’d been given a tiny headlamp and one instruction. Make it through the maze of tunnels and reach the exit two hundred metres to the east. Easy peasy. No big deal.
I cast a glance over my shoulder at the cluster of fae watching me. Saoirse looked alarmed. The two ginger warriors looked smug. And Lugh? His expression screamed boredom. Not for the first time, I asked myself why I hadn’t just stabbed him with my sword when I’d had the chance.
He saw me watching him, and his voice dripped with derision. “Last chance to back out. If you don’t have the courage, speak up now.”
I prickled at his words. This male was such a tosser. How he’d managed to worm his way into being the Master of a House was beyond me, let alone been given the title of King.
“Oh, I’m not bloody backing down now,” I shot back. “
Tell me though, Lugh, you ever fought dozens of Sluagh yourself?”
Saoirse shifted on her feet uncomfortably, and the warriors settled their hands on the hilts of their swords. But the bored expression on Lugh’s face never wavered.
“Doubting your future King’s abilities?” he sneered.
“Well, I don’t know much about you, do I?” I shrugged. “Maybe you’re skilled in something like gardening, and you’ve never seen combat yourself.”
His eyes flickered. “What a unique skill you’ve chosen to point out. I know there is a fae in the Morrigan’s court who has a way with plant life. But there would be no way for you to know that, would there?”
Our gazes locked. Was he trying to imply something? Was he suspicious of my motives? If he was, why would he give me the chance to join his Court of Wraiths?
“Like I said. I did my research.”
He stepped closer, ducking his head beneath the low stone doorway that led into the vaults. As he came closer, so did his magic. It wrapped around me like a too-tight hug, squeezing the air out of my lungs. “Yes, I can see that you are a fae who likes to be prepared. Is that why you’re stalling now?”
“I’m not stalling,” I hissed at him. “I just want to know who you are.”
He dropped his face closer to mine and growled into my ear. “I am Lugh, King of the Court of Wraiths. And if you wish to become my subject, you must learn when to stop questioning me.”
He stepped back, sucking all his body heat along with him. A part of me ached to pull him back. Just so I could punch him in the eye.
“Enough.” Lugh ducked out of the vaults and flicked his fingers at the two warriors. They moved forward, grabbing the heavy wooden door and slamming it in my face. Heart beating, I stood there for a moment staring at it. Even though I’d known it was coming, I still didn’t feel prepared. They’d shut me in with the Sluagh.
My hands clenched, and I turned to face the long stretch of corridor before me. The headlamp flickered, threatening to plunge me into darkness. I tapped it. The beam of light stayed strong. Blowing out a hot breath, I began to inch my way forward.
Lugh had explained that there would be several forks in the vaults. I was always to take the right, no matter what. So, when I came to the first bend and two tunnels stretched out on either side, I went right.
My feet splashed into deep puddles of water. Grime ran down the crumbling stone walls. The stench of mildew and rot swirled through the corridors, and I had to swallow down the need to gag.
Why the hell had Lugh made me do this? Hell, the entire court had chosen it. They’d seemed eager to see me sweat, almost like they were a Court of Wankers more than anything else. I had only been alive long enough to remember the mortal realm, this realm. But I’d heard stories of a time before this, when our kind held court in a different realm. The fae realm.
Back then, we’d been cruel. We’d been wicked. We’d been harsh.
The fae in this castle seemed to be remnants of that time. Especially Lugh. The bastard.
I came to another fork, and took the right again. My breath misted before me as I crept forward even more. This wasn’t so bad. So far, I hadn’t seen a single bloody Sluagh. Maybe they’d moved on from these vaults and found some other underground hellhole to stalk.
But just as my relief started to build, a strange scuttling noise whispered through the darkness. I paused, breath held. Flicking my ears toward the sound, I listened again. More scuttling, along with the hiss of papery breathing.
Terror speared my heart. That noise was unmistakable. The Sluagh were up ahead.
Maybe there was another way to tackle this Lugh problem. Maybe I could get the information we needed through a different kind of mission. I didn’t need to risk my life to prove to Lugh that I was worthy of his acceptance. I could turn around right now and get the hell out of here.
But how would I take him down? He had clearly holed up in the castle. All of his secrets lay within. He’d made me sign a blood contract, for fuck’s sake. If he went to those kind of lengths to protect himself, I’d never be able to get close to him without being a member of his court.
I sucked a deep breath in through my nose and steeled my nerves. I was Moira Talmhach, and I was a bloody good warrior. These Sluagh wouldn’t stand a chance against me.
I inched forward, step after slow step. The Sluagh didn’t have hearing as good as mine, so they likely didn’t know I was down here with them yet. I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. The element of surprise was one of the only tricks I had in my bag, especially when I had no idea how many of them there were.
Lugh had mentioned dozens, if I were lucky. These vaults were the perfect playground for the walking dead. They were dark, musty, and full of rats. No sunlight could get to them here, and Sluagh tended to disintegrate when rays of sun touched their skin.
On that note...I flicked off the headlamp, and the world turned pitch black. Steadying my breathing, I focused my fae power on my sight. The world became a bit brighter but only just. At least I could see my feet now.
A Sluagh rounded the corner. It hissed, and I stumbled back. Even in the darkness, my enhanced sight gave me a full view of the creature. The skeletal frame hobbled toward me on feet that were half-covered in rotting flesh. It stank of disease, like a pile of excrement dipped in a vat of stagnant water. It reached out toward me and screamed, mouth open wide to reveal of pit of darkness inside.
Swallowing hard, I held up my sword before me. My heart ricocheted through my chest. My palms were slick with sweat. It had been a long-ass time since I’d seen one of these things, but the terror it brought was all the same.
It lurched toward me, and I whirled to the right. My side slammed into the slick wall, and pain radiated from the bruised skin. Gritting my teeth, I pushed off the wall and charged.
Magic swirled through my veins as I tightened my grip on the sword. My body became one with the steel; the feel of it hummed beneath my hands. Grinning, I stared down the Sluagh. It had slowed to a stop as my magic coursed through my body like an electric charge.
Before the creature could turn and run, I rushed forward. My sword arced through the air, and then made contact.
The Sluagh’s rotting head fell to my feet.
One down. How many more to go? There was no telling.
After wiping my sword against my jeans—I refused to fight with the Sluagh’s blackish blood on my weapon—I came to another damn fork in the path. How many tunnels did these vaults have? It was a fucking maze down here.
Just as I turned toward the right once again, my ears flicked. They caught some distant sound, coming from the left. Frowning, I paused. Somewhere, down the left path, the clanging of steel echoed into my ears.
Instinctively, I took a step toward it.
What the hell was going on? Had Lugh sent another recruit down here to complete the same damn trial as me?
The guy was a sociopathic jackass, but that didn’t make much sense.
Another Sluagh lurched out of the tunnel to my right. Just in time, I swung my sword up to block the weapon it held in its hand. The steel of the creature’s blade sang as it met mine. My heart thumped as I took a step back. That was a fae weapon. A gleaming sword that rippled with the magic coursing through its hilt.
Before the Sluagh could swing again and hit me with whatever magic lay within, I stabbed it right in the gut. Black blood oozed onto my blade as the creature fell into a bony heap.
The distant clang of steel met my ears again. Frowning, I took a step down the left path. A muffled grunt echoed toward me, and a strange scent filled my nose. Fire and something like pine cones, drifting along the musty wind. I cocked my head. Someone else was down here, alright, but who?
A loud screech shot through the darkness. I whirled on my feet to find five Sluagh now bearing down on me. They must have heard me fighting the others. And every single one of them had blades.
Gritting my teeth, I slashed at the first. It f
ell to the ground within seconds. I ducked low as the next rushed toward me, its vacant eyes staring right into my soul. They continued on. And I kept fighting. One after another, I sliced. Up ahead, in the distance, the tunnel on the right speared with light. I could see the doorway. I’d finally made it.
There were just ten bloody Sluagh in the way of safety.
I slowed to a stop, chest heaving. As I’d fought, I’d somehow made it into a domed room. Black blood caked the walls. Grime seeped into my boots. The exit door out of this hell sat on the opposite wall, light seeping through the cracks.
The Sluagh stared me down. Their mouths were opened wide, their clawed, bony fingers clutching tight to various blades. Some held daggers, carved in elaborate designs. Others held up swords, rippling with magic and danger.
I sucked in a deep breath and focused. More than ever, I needed my gift. Curling my hand tight around the golden hilt of my sword, I let my eyes drop shut, just for a moment. The steel sang to me, a brilliant sound that lit up every vein in my body. Adrenaline surged through me. Electricity shot through my core.
I opened my eyes. The Sluagh were coming for me. But I was ready.
I slashed through the first, and then the next. My body became a whirlwind, spinning so fast that I didn’t even know the moves I made. I trusted in my gift, my magic. It would carry me through, even if nothing else could. I didn’t think. I didn’t even breathe.
All I did was fight.
Soon, all the Sluagh were dead. Chest heaving, I sucked in a deep lungful of blood-soaked air. I wiped the gunk off my blade and shoved it into the holster around my waist. Up ahead, the exit door practically glowed like a beacon. I’d taken on this damn trial. And I’d won.
I tried not to look at the ground as I toed my way through the bloody pile of bodies. Some were merely crumpled heaps of bones. But some were far more than that. I didn’t want to look into the eye of anyone who looked even remotely like the humans they’d once been.
When I reached the door, I let out a relieved sigh. This whole thing had sucked some serious ass, but it could have been a lot worse. I hadn’t died, for one. And I hadn’t lost a limb. A few scratches and bruises were nothing compared to what could have been.
Confessions of a Dangerous Fae (The Supernatural Spy Files Book 1) Page 3