Dark Angel

by Kim Richardson

  I let out a breath and picked my way around a fallen tree. The elf was looking everywhere at once, his posture tense and stiff, and it had me worried.

  I knew Gareth had been rejected from his community because he loved a human woman. This place was beautiful on the outside, but it made me wonder what kind of cruelty we’d find on the inside.

  The wind wafted overhead, and something swift passed between me and the trees. I squinted up into the semi-darkness, thinking it must have been a bat. I loved bats, but I didn’t get to see them in the city. And yet these glorious creatures had such a horrible reputation with the humans. To them they were blood sucking monsters. To me, they were just hamsters with wings. I arched my neck, but I saw nothing but the swaying treetops—

  “Ow,” I hissed, slapping my neck, as something stung my skin, sending it aflame.

  Gareth was next to me in a second. “What is it?”

  “A giant mosquito just took a bite out of my neck,” I said, and the cat chuckled, making me frown.

  “What?” I growled at him.

  “That wasn’t a mosquito,” said Tyrius on the ground near my feet. I didn’t like the laughter in his tone nor the grin on the elf’s face.

  My eyebrows rose not appreciating how the boys were bonding at my expense. “It wasn’t?” I pulled back my hand. Blood marred my fingertips. What the hell?

  “No.” The cat smiled, and then he said pointedly, “That was a pixie.”

  “Can’t be?” I rubbed the spot where it still burned and itched, and I felt a small welt forming. “A pixie? What are you talking about? Pixies don’t attack people. They’re too busy stealing jewelry and other precious gems. They don’t rip chunks of flesh out of your neck.”

  “Wood pixies are different.” Gareth’s posture relaxed a little.

  “Think miniature vampires with wings,” added the cat.

  My face bunched up. “And how would you know?”

  “Because one is standing on your shoulder.”

  I stiffened. Then, “Son of a bitch!” I flicked my hands over my shoulders, spinning on the spot like a total idiot. Okay, not cool, but the thought of pixies biting my flesh to suck some of my blood sent my creep-o-meter sky-high. That was just gross.

  Movement caught my eye. And then I saw it. A shimmering golden light rose up high, its golden swings clattering aggressively, sending a trail of golden dust. A wood pixie.

  The shimmering golden fireflies I’d noticed before were pixies. Hundreds of those little shits.

  Even in the moonlight I could tell they looked nothing like the pixies I’d seen in the city. About three inches tall, this one’s skin was dark green and rough. And though the city pixies looked like miniature humans, this wood pixie was more animal-like. Its face was elongated, more like a snout. It opened its mouth full of sharp teeth and hissed at me, its ugly face screwed up in anger. It looked pissed. But not as pissed as I was.

  I snapped a branch off the nearest tree and swatted it, making sure the pixie saw it. “Bite me again,” I threatened, “and I’ll flatten you, you glowing little bastard.”

  The wood pixie hissed at me again, and I swear it flipped me the finger before it flew off backward and then hovered at a safe distance, its tiny black eyes on me, waiting.

  If it came any closer, I was going to kill it. The little shit was going down.

  My head jerked up. The clatter of pixy wings became obvious. They were everywhere. We were surrounded. Just great.

  “Let’s keep moving,” Gareth said as he trudged up the path.

  I followed him, my temper going black. “Yes. Let’s. The sooner we make it to the city, the sooner we can get out of this damn forest.”

  “I thought you said it was b-e-e-eautiful,” drawled the baal demon, making me want to kick him into the bushes.

  “I take it back.”

  I cringed when I felt tiny mouths gnawing at my scalp, and bile rose in the back of my throat. “Stop that, you little shits,” I cried, flinging my makeshift flyswatter over my head like a crazy person but not hitting a single one. Small, winged forms, moving fast, darted around me from every direction. Damn. I was swarming in blood-sucking pixies.

  “Why aren’t they attacking you?” I growled at the elf.

  Gareth turned to look at me. “I’m an elf. They’ll only bite non-elves.”

  Figures. “They’re not attacking Tyrius.”

  The cat shrugged and kept walking. “What did you expect? You’ve got tasty angel blood in you. So suck it up. You’re not going to die of a few pixie bites. Though, you might suffer from a mild pixie fever.”

  “Pixie fever?”

  “It’s nothing,” mewed the cat, his voice nonchalant, like he was commenting on the different species of trees in the forest. “A little bit of vomiting. Stomach cramps. The chills. Oh—and then there’s the horrible gas.”

  “I should have left you with Evanora.”

  My mood soured as I flicked the collar of my leather jacket up. Something that small with wings would be lethal in the city. Thank the souls they seemed to be only in this part of the forest.

  Earlier tonight, I’d been anxious to wander in this secret forest. Now I just wanted to get the hell out and back to civilization, back to where blood-sucking pixies didn’t exist.

  “Hurry up, woman,” urged the cat, and I realized I was lagging behind. My pace had slowed with my recent pixie attack. “We have a human-sized blood sucker to save.”

  With my hands on my head, I walked faster, my thighs pulsing with stamina-fed anger, fear and guilt, making Tyrius jog to catch up.

  We moved like that for another five minutes until I noticed something was wrong.

  The sudden stillness pulled my head up. “The pixies are gone,” I said, though I should have been feeling a sense of relief. Instead a tightness formed in my chest.

  Tyrius froze mid-step next to me, his eyes in the sky. “They wouldn’t just give up a free taste of your blood unless something else scared them off.”

  I had to agree. The fact that they’d left so suddenly should have been warning enough.

  When Gareth halted, his hands brushing the inside of his coat, I knew something was very wrong.

  I spun on the spot, heart pulsing in my throat. There was nothing along the path or through the trees that I could see. I threw out my senses, and a prickling sensation ran down my spine as the energies swirled around me.

  Someone stood in the bushes. Maybe even two.

  “Stop right there,” called a voice in the night, sending my adrenaline pounding through me.

  I hadn’t had a good fist fight in a while. I was rusty, but I could still kick some elf ass. I grinned. I could barely contain myself.

  There was a bustle of leaves and three elves stepped through the shrubs and into the path.

  Oh, goodie.

  10

  When someone points a sharp sword in your face, normally you should be scared. But I wasn’t.

  I felt dangerously calm and recklessly sassy and defiant—a very bad combination.

  “Howdy, boys,” I said smiling as I slipped out my soul blade. “Aren’t you a nice-looking bunch.” Not really. If you believed the stories of how elves were supposed to be hot and lean like Legolas in The Lord of the Rings movies, you’d be wrong.

  Yes, they were lean, but that’s where the similarities ended. They weren’t dressed in the finest silk cloth under heavy woolen cloaks either. Nope. These dudes were dressed in t-shirts under thin military-style jackets and jeans. The only thing that looked out of place on their modern clothes were their leather baldrics and weapons belts.

  Their faces, though plain and forgettable—nothing wrong with plain—were full of indignant anger. Fury simmered in their eyes, and their hate-filled expressions chilled me just a little.

  “About time you guys showed up,” I said, hands on my hips. “I was beginning to feel a little insulted. We’ve been walking around forever.”

  Tyrius snorted, awarding him a snarl f
rom one of the elves with the fairest hair.

  The tallest elf stepped closer. “You are intruding upon the woods of the secret city of the elves.” Golden loops pierced his ears. He looked as though he wanted to stick me with the pointy end of his sword. That would be a mistake. A terrible mistake. For him, not for me.

  “Who are you? What are you doing in our sacred forest?” he demanded.

  “Out for a midnight stroll. What does it look like?” I flicked my gaze over the three elves. Those jackets looked like they had many secret pockets on the inside, perfect to hide some elf dust. So why were they using swords?

  “Who are you,” pressed the same elf, his eyes glancing briefly on me before flicking to Gareth. Then his eyes narrowed. “I know you,” he said moving closer to Gareth. “You’re the outcast. You’ve been exiled. You can’t be here.”

  Gareth remained very still. “I need a word with my father.”

  “Your father gave us specific orders to kill you should you ever come back.”

  At that, the three elves took on a fighting stance.

  Oh crap. I looked at Gareth. “Is that true?”

  “Now this is getting interesting,” said Tyrius, and he sat down, looking like he was watching a movie. “Where’s the popcorn when you need it?”

  Gareth’s face was pinched in frustration and anger. “Look. I don’t have time for this. I’m going to see my father. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you don’t let us pass.” He pulled out his hands, and they were dripping in light blue elf dust.

  The elves shared nervous glances. Either they knew they were no match for Gareth or they just didn’t want to fight another elf.

  Tyrius beamed. “How exciting!” he shrilled.

  I didn’t think so. I didn’t want any more blood on my hands. “Let Gareth see his father, for God’s sake. We won’t stay long. Promise.”

  The same elf shot a look at me. “And you. Who are you?” he commanded. His breath went in and out in a rough sound.

  I pursed my lips and flicked my gaze back to the elf. I pegged him for their leader. “Rowyn. I’m… Gareth’s friend.” I wasn’t sure if girlfriend would score me any points right now.

  For a long moment, there was silence. The elves still hadn’t dropped their swords, which pushed my temper over the edge.

  “Never heard of you,” answered the elf leader, his posture telling me that he regarded me as an intruder and possibly an enemy. “The way I see it, you are trespassing onto sacred lands. Non-elves are not allowed to set foot in this forest.”

  “But we did,” prompted the cat, his eyes narrowing. “Which means what, exactly?”

  The elf looked back at me and said, “We have the right to kill you.”

  Now, why did he have to go and say that. “That’s just awesome. I didn’t come here to kill any elves… but if you don’t lower your weapons, I think we’re going to have a problem.”

  A deep frown came over the elf leader and he moved his free hand further inside his jacket.

  “Don’t even try,” I warned. “I’ll poke your eyes out before you remove that hand.”

  Tyrius laughed, rocking back and forth looking like he was enjoying this exchange a little too much.

  The elf pulled his hand away and looked at me like I was a blabbering idiot. “If you leave now, we’ll let you go. But you must leave right now and never return.”

  “We’re not leaving, elf-boy,” said Tyrius. “You can just forget about it.”

  A smile twitched Gareth’s face. “Like my friend said, we’re not leaving.”

  “Your father will kill you when he sees you,” pressed the elf leader.

  “I’ll deal with him.” Gareth’s voice carried a surprising amount of warning. “It’s between me and my father. I’ll make sure he knows you had no choice.”

  The leader lowered his weapon and the others followed his example. “We’ll bring you to your father. But we’re not responsible for what happens afterward.”

  “Fine,” agreed Gareth, though his hands still dripped with his elf dust.

  “We can’t let them into the city,” said the elf with the fair hair. “She’s not elf kin and he’s exiled. Our asses are on the line here.”

  “Don’t you think I know that, Dick,” snapped the elf leader, and Tyrius made a strange noise from his throat.

  Ah, hell.

  The cat’s mouth was hanging slightly open. “Your name’s Dick?” sneered the Siamese cat. “As in… Dick , Dick?” When the elf named Dick gave the cat a frown, well, Tyrius fell over on his side, his legs twitching in a laughing stupor. I would have joined him, but one of us had to keep it together in case the elves decided to cut us up with their pretty swords.

  The elves’ faces all sported the same hardness in their eyes, their mouths pressed in a tight line with their expressions darkened. The elves were not impressed by the cat’s tantrum.

  Tyrius jumped up on his feet and said, “Who’s ready for some dick jokes? Well, I heard this new one just the other day down in Mystic Quarter by Igor the troll…”

  Damn that cat was going to get us killed.

  I moved and leaned over the cat. “Tyrius, how about we save the topic of dicks for later.”

  “Why? You can’t handle dick?” chortled the baal demon.

  I let out a breath. “Tyrius, shut up. I mean it.”

  The cat raised his shoulders. “Okay, okay. Can’t even take a joke,” he fussed, though the smile never left his face.

  The elves began speaking really fast in another language that sounded like a mix of Latin and German—Elvish. From Gareth’s bleak expression, I had no idea what they were saying.

  “This way,” ordered the elf leader, as he strode forward on the path.

  “Uh, Rowyn?” Tyrius looked up at me. “Mind if I catch a lift? I can’t see a thing down here.”

  “Sure.” I knelt, my heart pounding as unease trickled through me. Tyrius crawled over my front and settled around my shoulders.

  I straightened and we all followed their leader down the dirt path. Dick and the other one positioned themselves behind us, feeding me more with apprehension. Never turn your back on a potential threat, like I was doing just now. It went against all my rules as a Hunter. The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and my jaw clenched as I fought the urge to turn around.

  “Keep calm, woman,” whispered the cat, sensing my anxiety. “If they wanted to hurt us, they would have done it by now.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “No, but Gareth does,” said the cat, and my eyes flicked to Gareth next to me. “He wouldn’t put us in harm’s way.”

  Tension had my muscles tight, and I walked watching the back of the leader’s head while trying to listen to the tread of the elves behind me for a sudden change in their movements. But I couldn’t hear anything. Damn that elf stealth.

  We kept to the trail in silence. The forest had grown denser, trees bunched up so thick there was barely any light from the moon. I could only see a few yards ahead of me and the back of the tall elf’s head, which wasn’t exactly a thrilling view. We’d barely walked for another five minutes when the trees thinned and we got to a clearing.

  There was a long winding road, and at the end of the road stood the elven city.

  Even in the dim light of the moon, the city was spectacular.

  The size of a moderate farm, more than two hundred acres of timber-framed dwellings and gardens were all lit with soft yellow light—a secluded getaway nestled back in miles of forest and safe from prying eyes.

  The leader said nothing as he led us down the dirt path. The closer we got to the city, the faster my pulse raced.

  I kept shooting covert glances over to Gareth. His face was mostly hidden by his hair, but I could see a frown whenever the breeze brushed his hair away.

  His father wanted him dead. Just because he loved a human woman? The elf sounded like a real bastard. Questions burned on my lips. I was dying to ask him, but I knew this wasn’
t the place or the time to pepper him with them. I was nervous. And couldn’t even imagine what Gareth was going through. He’d risked so much to come here.

  “That dragon’s breath better be worth it,” mumbled Tyrius, pulling those thoughts right out of my mind.

  We walked down the road, wending through the grassy hills and ponds, all the way into the elven city. The houses and structures were all wood and stone, mostly timber framed and impressive. We moved past the first set of houses. Though not the largest of the city, each one had ornate carvings painted in gold and silver that I recognized as elven symbols.

  The streets were laid with paver stones. There were no cars here, which was a nice change. The air buzzed around us with the music of crickets and the faint croaking of frogs in the ponds nearby. The lights were all soft yellows and greens, small lamps that, upon a closer glance, proved to be elf dust contained in glass boxes.

  Street corners were lit with tall lampposts. A flickering silver light was mounted on the top, which I suspected was more elf dust. I could see some dim yellow light coming from the windows of a few homes, but most of the houses we passed were covered in darkness.

  Unlike New York City, the city that never sleeps, this elven city was snoozing.

  We crossed a few elves, three to be exact, all male. Mistrust danced in their eyes as I made eye contact with each of them. But they said nothing, and we kept moving onward.

  The road the elves were leading us on ended abruptly because a giant wooden edifice stood in its way.

  A vast wooden structure, resembling a castle and fit for a great king, sat overlooking a small lake. It rose up before us, three stories high, and was made of a mix of dark logs and stone. I’d never seen anything like it. And the elves appeared to be leading us there.

  Tyrius whistled. “Looks like Gareth’s dad’s loaded,” he whispered as we neared the front gate.

  “Looks like it,” I agreed, my eyes rolling over the impressive building, trying to see everything at once. A pang went through me, all the way to the depths of my soul, and then it squeezed a little more. He’d never told me about this place. Looks like he hadn’t told me about much.