Slumber of the Fae

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Slumber of the Fae Page 6

by J. D Reo


  Pulling on the door I find it locked as well but still looks to be in great shape. My hand shakes a bit as I stand on my tippy toes and feel around the framing on the door.

  “Got you!” I squeal with excitement as I find the tiny key hidden up there. This door only stayed locked because my dad’s desk held important paperwork, I used to tell him it was stupid to lock, no one wanted to steal my birth certificate. But it seems that came in handy now, so good call dad. Thanks to his paranoia I may actually be able to find something that’s not completely trashed.

  With a creak the door opens and dust flitters through the stale air.

  Everything in here looks exactly as I remember it. The tiny clown statue on my mom’s bookshelf stares at me from where he always did, somehow now a million times less scary than I remember him being.

  Three coffee cups still sit on my dad’s desk because he always came in here to read the paper in the mornings but would always forget them on his way out. Looking around I realize there are a few things I’m not willing to leave here to rot anymore and get moving.

  The small closet in the corner opens easy enough but I don’t see what I’m looking for instantly and that sucks because I’d really rather not dig through the years of dust. But it’s definitely not enough to stop me either.

  I don’t have to look around long into the cramped closet though because the backpack I was looking for ended up being hung on a hanger. Point for Mom. The backpack was from my early elementary school days, it’s neon colors and was the dream backpack for any girl to have back then. If you had Lisa Frank anything you were the shit. Everyone wanted to be you.

  This back was the only time in my life I had something everyone wanted and when the school year was up it had still been in good shape so in the closet it went.

  Next, I peel my dad’s leather jacket off a hanger and decide against putting it on until I can clean it off. He and my mom met when he was wearing that jacket. It was the one thing he refused to get rid of over the years. It’s the absolute best thing of his I could keep for sentimental value.

  Next, I move back over to my mom’s bookshelf in search of the large journals that resemble hers but are much older. I would have grabbed them when I left here originally but you know, cops stood between me and this room then and they are all heavy as shit especially since I was eleven at the time.

  So, I settled for just my mom’s. It was the one that was really important any way it was a piece of her. These however belong to her family, all the woman down her family line wrote in them, I guess. When I see them on the lowest shelf I crouch down and begin to stuff the three of them into the small backpack on top of the jacket and work to force the zipper closed.

  Hefting the pack onto my back I groan at the weight. Fates I need to work out more.

  A sudden creak at the door has me frozen in place in an instant. I was so lost down memory lane I complete forgot to listen for heart beats. I got distracted and allowed myself to forget for a few precious moments that I was on the run.

  “I figured you would find your way home at some point sweetheart.” My heart leaps at the all too familiar rasp of Lennox Engrams voice.

  Oh Fates, I fucked up.

  I can’t stand when Samara goes inside buildings, I can’t follow her inside without showing her it’s been me stalking her this whole time and I really don’t think she will take it all that well. But being trapped out here makes it impossible to keep an eye on her.

  After about an hour I start circling the building and start to panic a little when I find all the windows that aren’t boarded up are too dirty to see though.

  Fuck it. I’ll go on foot and just stick to the shadows; she’ll never see me. Just as I lower myself low enough in the ally beside the rundown shithole where prying eyes can’t see me a large thud hits the window next to me and the board covering it goes flying off its rusted nails just about taking me out.

  What the fuck was that?!

  Flapping my wings, I get closer to try to peak through the window but duck just in the knick of time when the brightest fucking pink backpack I have ever seen crashes through the window sending glass in all directions before getting lost in the weeds below.

  Why the fuck is sparkling luggage attacking me?! Shepard would mock my dead ass forever if I was taken out by a backpack sporting a rainbow leopard. I’m a fucking hit man for fates sake, my dead ass would never hear the end of it.

  A second later Samara comes sprinting towards the window in a cry of fire and rage. But something or someone grabs onto her leg at the last second. How didn’t I see anyone go in after her?

  Her hands latch onto the window frame and glass slices through her palms, but she holds on tight as she kicks, trying to fight off her attacker. She fights like an unstoppable feral savage, snarling and destructive. She is fucking perfection.

  Flapping furiously, I dive through opening above her, shifting mid-flight as soon as I pass her head and spot the shadow of the man gripping one of her legs tight while fending off the other as she does everything in their power to take off his head with her military grade combat boots.

  In one smooth motion I land on the mother fucker pinning him to the ground with my junk horribly close to his head.

  His face skews up in disgust as he notices my nine-inch meat sword and balls are sitting on his chest and he thrashes violently trying to get me off of him.

  I don’t give him a chance though. If you don’t want strange dick in your face you shouldn’t piss off shifter fae. It’s his fault honestly. He practically begged for me to tea bag him when he attacked our girl.

  Bringing my fists down repeatedly I rain hell on the man’s face. I keep swinging as teeth shatter and cut into my knuckles. I keep swinging when his nose cracks and the sound echoes off the walls. Hell, I even keep swinging when his arms go limp.

  I’m not usually a fist guy, I’m a quick knife to the jugular type of assassin. But Shepard always says that some mother fuckers just need their face smashed in. I never saw the appeal until now but looking down at the havoc I caused I got to say I get it now.

  Pulling myself to my feet I prepare for Sam’s horror filled cries at my actions and to explain why I’m here in the first place.

  Only when I turn around all I see is two streams of blood down the wall from where her hands were impaled, and her phone laying discarded on the ground.

  Fuck! Where did you go love?

  Swooping up the device I unlock it using the pin number I’ve watched her use a million times in the last two months and leap out the window. Only half paying attention I step over the bag she used to break the window and dial one of the few numbers I know by heart.

  I come around the front corner of the building, still butt ass naked and drenched in blood just as he answers, and I spot Samara’s unconscious body being loaded into a small car.

  One of the men grabs her tit just before hefting her the rest of the way in and I see red.

  “It happened Shep, I have eyes on her, but I want back up.” I spit out and bark the address at him the since its quicker than tracking her phone. Within a second Shepard is at my side ready to burn the world down. He knew the S.T.F. wouldn’t let her go that easy. That’s why he put me on her trail, and I leapt at the job.

  He looks me over and I nod towards the car just as one man gets in the driver’s side and the other dumbass rubs her titty one more time then slams her door and gets into the passenger’s side. What kind of man gets off on unconscious and defenseless women?

  In the blink of an I eye I’m back in my feathers and right behind the car as it takes off. The sound of a beast growling in fury has me looking back as I spot Shepard fully shifted for one of the few times in my life.

  The horned beast of myth for being born from hell it’s self hauls behind the car with a demonic war cry, I find myself almost giddy for him to catch them. If they wanted to meet a monster, then they’re about to get their wish.

  Don’t worry baby. We will bring you
back, even if we have to slaughter every mother fucker who stands in our way.

  Authors Note

  First of all, I would like to thank you all for reading!

  Samara and her guys have lived in my head for years and it’s been a struggle for me to find my confidence enough to bring myself to get the story out there.

  I have been writing for myself for years. My computer holds countless stories spanning so many genres, but I have never believed I wrote good enough to actually published or anyone would enjoy reading about the characters living inside my head.

  Eventually they got too loud, and I figured, fuck it, I’ll let them be heard. So here I am chasing my dreams.

  Samara has so much more to her adventure to come and I truly hope you enjoy the ride.

  Please make sure to leave a rating and review, you have no idea how much they help authors out.

  Also, if you are reading on Kindle Unlimited please make sure to leave the book at the end before returning it.

  Kindle unlimited authors get paid by the page number the book is left off on when it is returned.

  Thanks again for your time and support. Make sure to keep an eye out for book two in the saga I plan on a quick release.

  Xoxo J.D Reo.

 

 

 


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