Oath Bound

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Oath Bound Page 3

by T. G. Ayer


  Mom sighed then looked up into the chimney “Can either of you shift and get your bony feline butts up the chimney?” she asked as she ducked to hide her face from the latest shattered rock to impact the side of the fireplace.

  Dad was shaking his head as he replied softly, “Sadly, neither of us are small enough to get up there. We’re staying put until we come up with another plan to get out of here.”

  “What I wouldn’t give for the ability to jump right now,” I muttered under my breath.

  “You and me both, honey,” Mom said, her eyes now focused on Grams, worry evident in her expression.

  As she spoke, a second Fae soldier came into view, and I stiffened. In his hand he held a silver bow-and-arrow, the mercurial metal shimmering eerily as he lifted the weapon to his shoulder. It seemed such an impractical weapon to bring to a fight, almost as large as the soldier himself, and yet he lifted it with ease and set an arrow into the nock, his silver-etched face remaining expressionless the entire time.

  He too wore armor of glowing silver, and even from where I hunkered down in the relative safety of the fireplace, I could make out the whorls and markings on the surface of the metal. The designs moved much like the dark-haired soldier’s had, only this Fae’s armor appeared to have a deeper strength to it, making him feel all the more dangerous.

  These Fae certainly had a hard time with facial expressions, though I shouldn’t be surprised when I’d come face-to-face with one of them before, and when they were ruthless like my grandpa across the room, they were unfeeling and cold as well.

  Tara though hadn’t had much of a problem with expressions, considering she’d been one of the gentlest Fae I’d ever known. How I wished I could have called her to me, but she hadn’t given me any way to summon her should I have needed her in an emergency.

  I could only pray that Logan somehow managed to locate her in time.

  Right now, though, we just had to make a concerted effort to stay alive.

  6

  Wary of the tall Fae warrior, I still tried to keep part of my attention on their king. He had ceased his screaming and was now stalking toward Grams, his stiff strides filled with purpose and fury.

  He certainly didn’t appear to be the loving sort of grandfather. Grams was ready for him though, hands raised as he sent a stream of crackling power at her from his raised palm, the one-handed movement nonchalant, as if saying this is nothing, I have worse where this came from.

  Grams defended herself well, icy blonde hair flying behind her having come loose from her usual neat knot at the back of her head. Hands flung out, she was either deflecting or absorbing the strikes of lightning coming at her and I had to force myself to focus on my own predicament, ignoring the amazing show of ethereal power my grandmother had just displayed, powers we’d had no clue she possessed.

  My focus had been on Grams’ awesome badassness and partly trained on the tall Fae with his big-ass bow-and-arrow, and I’d missed the sneaky bastard who’d made a wider approach around the room. Too late, I spotted him as he transitioned out of his glamor and was raising both hands in my direction.

  Palms out, he flicked his fingers at me, sending two sets of spinning black daggers straight towards me. Each weapon was made up of half a dozen blades attached to a central ring so that they spun around and around, each dagger capable of inflicting dozens of injuries in one revolution.

  Dad moved almost without me realizing he was no longer within the safe zone of the fireplace. No surprise there considering he was an alpha walker, and it was hardly likely that he’d sit around waiting for the women of his family to protect him.

  Whatever instruction his mother had given him had ceased to hold much weight with him now as he surged in front of me, probably intending to protect me.

  But he likely hadn’t thought it through.

  The Fae we were dealing with would not be playing fair. And even as the thought filtered through my mind, I spotted an odd glow on the deadly-sharp edges of the blades spinning in the air. Dad was moving, his torso now fully covering me, protecting me but also exposing himself to what was most likely a horrible death.

  “The blades are laced with something!” I hissed, shoving his body hard to the side so that his momentum would keep him going beyond where he’d intended to stop.

  “Kai!” he grunted as he kept moving past me. But I didn’t stop to explain.

  Watching the oncoming daggers, I waited only a second more before surging out of my crouch. I grunted, “Mom, get down,” just as the first of the blades drew close. I tucked into a forward roll and cleared Dad’s legs then sprang into a crouch, my one arm raised, the second reached for my boot to withdraw one of the daggers I carried around with me. Only to realize I didn’t have the blade on me. Neither was I wearing my boots, or any shoes for that matter.

  That’s right. Quiet family evenings didn’t often call for one attending while sporting full weaponry. I blinked as the first two rotating blades reached me simultaneously. And on automatic, I thrust out my armored hand to deflect the first.

  As I moved, Mom’s low whisper reached me. “I got the other one.”

  I didn’t have time to protest as I focused on the approach of the second set of spinning blades, one of which trailed the other for some reason. Whatever slowed its flight, whether weight or throwing technique, the split second of delay gave me the opportunity to spring back and throw my armored hand out, smash the bronze metal into the first of the blades then keep moving into a quick spin before I reached the second.

  My movements were quick and sure, and beyond the spinning blades, I caught Grams flick a glance back toward me, aware that within the admonition in her glare, I could see admiration, pride. I’d probably be in trouble for not obeying her commands in the first place but it wasn’t as if grandad Fae had given me much of a choice.

  My throat still throbbed from the pen embedded within it, but I used that pulsing of pain and focused it on the next rotating blades. Moving through my spin, I quickly came around to face the weapon then flick it away with the top of my armband. I felt somewhat hampered by my only weapon being a rather large bracelet, but I had to take what I had and use it as best as I could.

  Dad was sprawled on the floor and the tall fae warrior was now pulling back on his mega-arrow, readying himself to let loose straight at me. Oddly enough, I felt somewhat hurt that my fae kin wanted me so dead that they’d use an arrow that was taller than I was.

  Seemed a little like overkill to me.

  Another silvery form shifted beyond my line of sight and Mom grunted out, “I got this bastard.”

  Again, I didn’t protest as a brief scuffle ensued just outside the fireplace. We’d all ended up more or less sprawled in front of the fireplace by now, Dad slowly rising to a crouch beside me.

  I squinted at the fae with the bow and stared hard at his silvery eyes. He seemed to be hesitating, why else would he not have already sent that arrow flying. He had plenty of opportunity while I’d been deflecting the spinning arrows. But right now, I could give him all my attention.

  Out of thin air, another glamored Fae appeared, long curved blade in his hand that was already on a downward strike, aiming straight at Dad’s neck. Dad was unarmed, and no matter how powerful an alpha he was, such a battle fell in the favor of the opponent with the weapon. Still, the man wasn’t easily taken down.

  He sprang forward his movement half panther in length and smoothness, aiming left where the fae had begun his strike. Too late, he wasn’t able to fully redirect his strike. Dad hit him hard, shoulder to gut, like a footballer shoving his opponent backward with the full force of his body in motion.

  The fae though, was still determined to inflict some injury and reversed his grip on the blade, probably hoping to slice into some part of Dad’s body--any injury would likely be a win if the blades were laced with poison.

  I didn’t wait, just swerved around the fae warrior and slammed the knife down, feeling a sense of satisfaction when the sharp s
teel tip entered his thigh and went even deeper from the force of my blow. The air shifted and a twanging sound registered in my ears.

  I kept moving though, leaving Dad to deal with the injured Fae who was attempting to hide himself with glamor. But Dad had a grip on the warrior’s arm and for some reason he appeared unable to hide himself. And unable to free himself from the alpha’s hold.

  Still moving, I spun around and faced the oncoming arrow which the tall soldier had let loose, giving me almost zero time to defend myself.

  Smart move, I thought, as my mind scrambled to figure out my next move. My head was beginning to throb, the pressure of this battle slowly crumbling my defenses against the injury to my brain.

  I just had to hope I wouldn’t stroke in the middle of all this. It was going to be a little hard to explain to Dad, especially since I’d redirected the results of the MRI he’d requested. Still, alive was the best way to face the music with Dad.

  The armband was my only option now as back-pedaling would only give me a fraction of a second before the arrow embedded itself within my chest.

  I blinked, about to say a prayer to Ailuros for forgiveness, when the arrow shattered before my eyes, tiny sparkling bits of silvery crystals raining down onto my head and the carpet around me.

  “How come I’m always saving your ass, walker?” said a familiar voice.

  I glanced above my head as a gust of air cooled my sweat-drenched skin, my gaze meeting bright blue eyes that were both amused and concerned. I let out a puff off relief.

  “Thanks, angel. I owe you one.”

  7

  I’d liked Evangeline the moment I’d met her in the catacombs in Rome not so long ago, and now I liked her so much more. Guess saving a girl’s life is very much like good food, straight path to her heart.

  I gave the angel a smile and straightened to focus on the Fae King and his warriors. The king threw one last blast of power at Grams who reached out and grabbed hold of it, molding it into a ball of energy between her palms before hurling it straight back at him. Everything she did took mere fractions of a second and the king's eyes went wide as he blinked to see the energy missile hurtling toward his head. He ducked then waved a hand in the air, and to my utter disappointment, the globe of crackling power simply disappeared beyond the Veil.

  I had to wonder what lay beyond the rip in the Veil, what destruction had Grams’ missile caused. And from Grams’ expression, she too was concerned. She wasn’t the type to take injuring the innocent as collateral damage and simply shrug it off.

  She stiffened now, waiting for the king to respond, but he didn’t. He simply scanned the room, eyes settling on me for a moment, then on Evie who hovered nearby, Mom who’d stood and dusted herself off though she still had shards of crystal and a few pieces of Fae rock in her long hair, Dad who’d stepped to my side, arm at my back as though to send a warning to his forefather. The king’s expression went cold as he looked beyond my shoulder where I was certain a dragon and demon stood, probably with their best scowls plastered on their faces.

  The Fae King now knew he wasn’t up against just a small family of walkers.

  He let out a grunt and then met Grams’ gaze. “You have seen what I can do, so make your decision wisely.”

  Grams let out a sigh. “You’re still singing that song? I thought I made it pretty clear I won’t go with you.” I had to hand it to Grams, she was treading on thin ice and she didn’t seem to care. Or was that just false bravado?

  The king snickered. “You know very well why I am here.”

  “You want me to come back to court to fulfill some duty or obligation I know nothing of?” Grams smiled. “Will you return my mother to me if I did go back with you?” she asked coldly.

  I could have sworn I felt the temperature in the room drop but that could have also been attributed to the Fae King whose own expression turned icy.

  “I am not here to discuss your mother.”

  “Then why don’t you leave my family out of this?” she asked archly.

  The king waved a hand and his warriors converged on him as he said, “My dear, you know very well that this visit is everything to do with family.”

  Grams shook her head and laughed, the sound low and filled with threat. “I told you I will not bargain with you. You hurt my grandchild, and for that, I will take payment.”

  “You may take payment at some point, I grant you that. But in the meantime, you must come with us. It is imperative that you understand our position and that you agree to our terms with that full knowledge in your possession.”

  “You’re talking in riddles. Just say what you want and be done with it.” Grams took a step closer to the Fae King, and all I could think of was, she’d certainly forgotten about respecting ones’ elders. Although, I suppose when those elders are trying to kill you and your family, respect and manners kinda took a back seat.

  The Fae King straightened and seemed to grow even taller. Mom stiffened beside me as Dad also took a step in Gram’s direction. But the ancient Fae merely said, “I will not speak of it aloud. I would prefer to speak in private.”

  Evie’s dark leather coat flapped around her as she floated smoothly to the ground and, just as she touched the floor, the king waved a hand and I instantly felt lightheaded.

  When I blinked again, I opened my eyes and watched as everything in the room began to freeze in place. The air stopped moving, the warriors ceased breathing, even Mom and Dad turned into statues.

  The only people I could see were unaffected was Evie and myself. I couldn’t account for Logan or Barry though, but as I began to turn to check on them, I felt a warm finger tug on my pinkie. I stopped and glanced quickly at Evie before facing forward.

  So she wanted me to pretend to be frozen? Okay then.

  Was there something about this spell that didn’t work on me? And why?

  The Fae King stepped close to Grams and raised his hand again to draw a veil of sound around the pair, like the rushing of water over rapids, the crashing of waves against cliffs.

  And, within that dome of sound, I saw the pair begin to talk. The king spoke first for a few minutes, Grams’ expression going from shock to anger to fear and then back again.

  She even glanced over at me, eyes widening ever so slightly as she realized I wasn’t frozen like the rest. But that knowledge seemed to make her more scared instead of reassuring her that I was capable of helping her out if the king should prove a danger to her life.

  Soon Grams was shaking her head and appeared to be refusing. At which point the Fae king reacted by shaking with fury. Though I’d expected him to have injured her, or at least threaten to harm her physically, he hadn’t succeeded in making Grams afraid for her life.

  Instead, she was afraid of something else.

  When she glanced over at us again, sorrow filled her eyes and I knew then that she was afraid for our lives. Had he threatened us again? Was he going to use this freezing spell to kill us if she didn’t go with him? My spine stiffened as panic rose within me, tempting me to do something rash, to rush over to her and pull her free from this spell he’d cast to keep their conversation private. Even my panther seemed to be spurred on by some visceral need and she bucked against my hold

  But again, a finger tugged at my pinkie, holding tighter this time.

  For some reason, Evie was insisting I do nothing, and I had to trust her. I didn’t believe that she’d give me advice that would lead to the deaths of my family. So I relented and relaxed. And Grams looked over at me, this time her expression a tad relieved.

  I couldn’t understand how she knew what I was feeling but I didn’t want to question the link we seemed to have. For now, I waited until the king dropped the privacy dome and stepped away, hands dropping at his sides as though he’d rest his case and Grams was now to make a decision based on whatever he’d just told her.

  The next second, the freezing spell fell away and someone raced past me, their form a mere blur to my eye. I glanced over my s
houlder to see Logan taking flight toward the king, then felt the rush of air as Evie did the same.

  They were working together to distract the king.

  Smart move, guys. A heads up woulda been nice.

  Baa’ruk, the albino demon skimmed past Grams, white dreadlocks flying as he grabbed hold of her and disappeared. Oddly enough, she didn’t appear to want to leave.

  As they faded away, she looked over at me, her eyes screaming some kind of warning that I wasn’t able to understand. The Fae King turned, attention on the dragon spewing fire at him, and on the nephilim soaring toward him with her angelic sword outstretched.

  The demon overlord appeared at my side seconds later and simply jumped me away, leaving me praying the Logan and Evie wouldn’t be injured. When I materialized, I found Grams waiting, arms wrapped around her shoulders as though cold to the bone.

  As I opened my mouth to speak, Evie appeared, her voice echoing mine as I said, “Ivy Odel, you have some explaining to do.”

  8

  Grams blinked as the question came from two places, then looked at each of us in turn. Worry lined her brow and darkened her eyes, and fear began to creep around my heart.

  “Grams? What’s going on?” I asked, my voice shuddering.

  Grams ignored me and said, “You shouldn’t have taken me away. This is only going to make things worse.”

  I shook my head. “From where we were standing you looked like you were in pretty deep doo-doo. What did he want from you? And why did he want to kill me?”

  Grams opened her mouth to respond then pointed a finger at my throat as she stared at Mom’s handiwork.

  I rolled my eyes. “Grams, stop trying to change the topic.”

  She didn’t reply, just continued to stare. And then, when both Evie and Barry joined her in staring, I shook my head. “What is going on with you guys?” I asked throwing my hands in the air.

  Evie cleared her throat. “You have a 1910 limited-edition silver-plated fountain pen sticking out of your neck.”

 

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