Coyle and Fang: Curse of Shadows (Coyle and Fang Adventure Series Book 1)

by Robert Adauto III

  Poes leaned against a table, shaking his head.

  “No one?” she asked. “No one else is coming to stop this ship?”

  “Our radio communications were blocked by whoever planned this devilry,” he said.

  “Then no one else knows? And no one else is coming?” She stepped closer. Her hand resting on his shoulder.

  “Unfortunately—no,” Poes said.

  She looked down and sighed.

  “Well, that’s the best news I’ve heard all day.” She looked into his eyes, smiled and Coyle’s face shifted into the shapeless form of Veiul. She slammed a dagger into Poes chest. She turned it once, before ripping it out.

  “That’s for shooting me in the carriage,” she said. “One less of Treece’s team and when I find Coyle and stab her pretty little heart out of her chest, well, that’s going to be even better.” She stepped away, watching the blood trickle out from his wound. “Coyle unraveled our plans a bit faster than we would have liked. And I can’t wait to find her.” Her face shifted into Coyle’s again, her soft hazel eyes gazing at Poes.

  “Do you like puzzles?” She smiled. The end of her blade lifting his chin. The lights reflection played on her face. “Here’s another piece of the puzzle for you, Mr. Poes. Fae are not easy to kill.”

  Grunting, growling, and screams caught her attention. She went to the balcony and looked down. The passengers had found the theater below and were streaming inside, hoping for an escape. The Turned followed them. She watched as the passengers fell, one by one and by the handful. The Turned were mindless, ruthless, hungry. She smiled.

  “You understand what’s happening down there?” she asked. “The Turned. They’re a more honest breed of human. More daring, powerful. And yet, despite the differences, they’re the same greedy, selfish, bloated monsters. All reaching out with their fingers, trying to take what doesn’t belong to them. Destroying everything in the process. Sound like your people, Poes?”

  “Actually, it doesn’t,” said a woman’s voice.

  Veiul snapped her head around. Who spoke? Her eyes settled on Poes. Blood streaked his shirt, yet he stood, staring at her. Veiul’s eyes shot around the room again. Poes said,

  “It took a while to straighten everything out. Especially given my distrust of Treece. I knew he’d helped create us, and I’m not sure exactly why. That’s the reason I disguised myself as this investigative attorney and played along with Treece’s team for a while. I kept an eye on Coyle, as I was by her side throughout. I knew she would uncover everything needed to stop you and Moreci. And I knew I would end up in a room with you eventually.” He grabbed the skin of his neck and pulled away the mask. “And my name isn’t Poes.”

  “Fang!” Veil hissed and stepped back.

  “I’m not sure who my people are. But you’re right, Veiul. Fae are hard to kill. And so are vampires.”

  Fang lunged with her daggers. Veiul blocked and countered with hers. But she wasn’t as fast, wasn’t as agile. Veiul did everything she could to make Fang bleed. Both of them smashed their knuckles into their faces, knees into their guts. Furniture smashed apart. Glass shattered. Fang spun and disarmed Veiul, her dagger clattered across the room. But, Vieul was ready, she pulled out a different set of knives and lunged. They fought like two beasts in the gladiator ring, each seeking to expose a weakness in the other. They pushed each other away, each crouching in defensive stances. Each bleeding from wounds. Fang winced and grabbed her arm.

  “Aurorium-tipped blades,” Veiul spat. “Just in case I ran into you.”

  “I’m impressed,” Fang said.

  “At my cunning?”

  “You thought of me.”

  Veiul sneered charged, her blades swinging. She dug her heel into Fang’s chest, kicking her away. Fang spun in the air, slicing into Veiul’s leg. Metal sang against metal as they struck and blocked attacks. Edged blade against edged blade. Will against will. Fae against vampire.

  Fang bluffed to the side and leapt, dragging the tip of her dagger across Veiul’s face. She landed her somersault while Veiul shrieked with blood streaked across her hand.

  “You remember our creed? Strength through adversity,” Fang asked. “Whatever comes our way will make us stronger.”

  “You remember your little cage? You’re full of madness. You should have stayed there,” Veiul said.

  They charged each other, stabbing, swinging, blocking. Fang crouched and spun and slammed her fist into Veiul’s chin, knocking the fae backward. Veiul kicked Fang’s face.

  They both pulled back, Veiul flexing her hands. Fang clenched her jaw, knife wounds burning like fire. The sounds of the deathly feast raged just behind her.

  Veiul coughed strings of blood. “You’re an animal, cross-bred from the worst of two weaker species. You don’t belong with humans, fae or the vamperion. You’re a traitor to all the people you ever knew. At least I know where I belong. I know who I am. I am a perfect, created being. And I’ll take pride knowing that.”

  “Come, then,” Fang said. “Show me this pride you speak of.” She threw her daggers into the floor. Veiul did the same and rushed, her eyes blazing with murderous fury. They tore at each other with fists, elbows and knee-strikes. Veiul grabbed a chair leg and swung. Fang blocked with one kick and sent Veiul backward with another.

  Veiul landed in a heap of splintered wood, wiping blood off her face. “You think you’re going to win,” she said, panting. “But Moreci gave me assurance that you wouldn’t, Charlotte. That’s your name, isn’t it?”

  Fang flinched as if she’d been struck. Her dark past crept through her mind, and she fought against the hazy memories threatening to pull her down. Veiul was weak, too. Barely able to move. Yet, Fang had to finish this.

  “You thought no one would remember the little incident aboard that ship oh, so long ago,” Veiul said. “Speaking of memories, here’s a little something made especially for you, Charlotte.”

  She flung a vial at Fang, and the glass exploded before she could block it. Gold and purple dust filled the air. Fang coughed violently, her chest cramping, her eyes burning. She backed away, swinging her hands, trying to see her adversary. She bumped into the wall, crashing over furniture, coughing again—and opened her eyes to the nightmare she’d buried so well.

  ***

  “Charlotte!”

  She gasped and backed away, coughing. She wiped her face, catching her breath, her eyes taking in the room. The floor tilted over the roaring seas. Empty chairs scooted to the side and back again. Wood creaked under the strain of the waves. Hurricane lanterns swayed from their posts along the ceiling and walls, casting shadows and fears throughout the galley. Thunder rolled over their heads, and she blinked, flexing her hands—wasn’t she holding something? Cutlery or... knives? Her eyes focused on the table. A plate of half-eaten hardtack sat next to a spoonful of jam.

  “Charlotte! Are you listening?” Embeth asked.

  “What? Of course I am,” she said. “I just swallowed my food wrong.”

  “Mommy says you need a doctor for that head of yours.” Embeth squinted, her lips pursed.

  “I told her I don’t need a doctor,” she said. “I have a bit of fuzziness when we travel is all.”

  “Oh, really? Then how come you didn’t hear me—again? It’s like you’re in a different world altogether.” Embeth took another bite of her biscuit, and crumbs dropped onto her favorite green dress.

  “I’m obviously not in another world, dingbat. Can’t you see I’m right in front of you?” She grabbed the cup of water, swallowed, plopped the empty cup on the table and wiped her mouth.

  “I just want to eat and go back to our room, please,” Embeth said. “Mommy said to stay in our rooms if it got stormy.”

  “Mommy’s too busy playing Countess back home,” she said. “Besides, she left me in charge. I’m the older sister, aren’t I?”

  “Just by five years. You’re not that much older.” Embeth stuck her tongue out and squinted. “What are you looking
at?” Embeth turned around.

  “Hmm? Nothing,” she said. “I thought I saw someone back there.”

  Embeth turned in her chair, eyeing the dark corner, her dark-brown locks swinging back and forth. She turned back and squinted. “You always think someone’s hiding in the dark. You always wake up screaming. You’re always in another world. Mommy’s right, you know.”

  “I don’t need a doctor.” She squinted back and shook her head. “Want another biscuit? I’m still hungry.”

  “I just want to go to our bunk before you start seeing shadows again.”

  “That’s it.” She grabbed Embeth by the collar. “Let’s go outside for a bit, shall we? Maybe some fresh air will do you good.”

  Embeth screeched and kicked her heels as Charlotte dragged her to the cabin door, begging to be released, but her older sister refused to listen. She turned the handle, and the storm ripped the door out of her hand.

  Strobes of light flashed across the rolling deck. White water sprayed from all directions at once. Wind howled through their ears. Freezing rain shocked their senses.

  “Never mind,” Charlotte said. “Let’s get back inside.”

  She pulled herself out of Embeth’s grip and reached for the door. A gust of wind slammed the door in her face and knocked her down. She slid across the wet surface of the deck and into the railing. Crashing waves soaked through her nightgown. She reached up to the sharp sting on her head and pulled back her hand. Red streaked across her palm before it was washed away.

  She screamed.

  “Charlotte!” Embeth screamed from the doorway.

  “Stay—”

  A wave crashed over Charlotte, and she slid and tumbled and flopped across the deck. She reached out, grabbing at anything, until her fingers wrapped around a thick line. She pulled herself up, coughing violently.

  “Embeth, stay there!” she finally said, peering through the white spray, trying to find Embeth. The salt water burned her mouth and eyes, but she had to find her little sister. She spotted a small shape along the deck.

  “No!” she screamed as Embeth crawled out to her. “Stop!”

  Another wave crashed over the ship, and the rope bit into her skin. Embeth was on her knees, sliding across the deck. Something crashed into Charlotte, the pain of it jarring her bones.

  ***

  Fang opened her eyes, reeling into a table. She back flipped, set her feet against the wall, and vaulted forward. She crashed into Veiul and rolled away, but not before the aurorium-tipped blades bit into her skin. Searing pain tore through her bones, weakening her muscles, slowing her reaction time.

  Veiul spun in the air, kicking her in the face. She slammed into the wall, recovered and blinked, wiping blood out of her eyes. Fang rolled out of the way as Veiul’s boot smashed into the floor. She grabbed Veiul’s leg, picked her up, and slammed her into the far wall.

  Pain wracked her chest. She shook her head, bending over with another coughing fit. The strange powders altered her mind, displacing reality, forcing her back in time.

  ***

  She raised her head and wiped her burning eyes. Her body shook from adrenaline, the North Atlantic waters or... something else. A quick glance around the room—or the ship?

  “Embeth!”

  Her sister’s little fingers clung to a loose board as the ship lolled. Embeth spat and coughed and cried out. Her feet dug into the old wood as best as they could.

  “I’m coming to you! Hold on!” she screamed at her little sister.

  Lightning strobed across the sky, highlighting the ship as it rose higher. Charlotte loosened her grip from the line and climbed forward, but the pitch made it difficult.

  Embeth’s body slid sideways and down until her feet were within Charlotte’s reach. She stretched out to her little sister and grabbed her foot.

  The ship crashed down, and they both slammed into the deck. Water splattered around them, but Embeth let go of her hold and reached out.

  They embraced.

  She wanted to hug her little sister so badly, wanted to feel the warmth of her cheek against her own, wanted to feel their hearts beating together. Embeth’s soaked body trembled in her arms. She sobbed and held Charlotte’s neck so tight, but it was all perfectly wonderful. Because she had almost been lost, and now she was here, right in her arms.

  “Don’t leave me!”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Embeth.”

  She opened her eyes. Eruptions of blue-white light pulsed through the darkness, enough to create a false sense of daylight, enough to see a massive wall of water rising in front of the ship.

  ***

  A glass cabinet crashed on her head. Shards bit into her back and shoulders. She pushed herself from the floor, and pieces fell to the side. She looked up at Veiul, whose own body was bleeding and broken.

  They were both fighters, sharing the same deadly training and unbending will to finish their objective. And now who was going to finish this?

  “How was your trip down memory lane?” Veiul asked, panting. “Moreci said you had weak points, deep inside. I could have killed you much earlier, but you know me. I like to make things as painful as possible. Even if I can’t see the damage being done.”

  Fang spat blood and raised herself to her hands and knees until she crouched. Her head was dizzy, her gut nauseated. She stuck a dagger into the wood, pushing herself up.

  “That was a lot of work,” Fang said. “A big effort. Just for me?” She sidestepped into the hall. “And here we are, not really any different from when we were kids fighting in the combat ring. Making Papa Moreci proud with our bloodied fisticuffs, making him wipe away your tears when you lost, again and again.” She smiled.

  Veiul sneered, lunging, tackling Fang. Pain exploded in her ribs, and air rushed out of her lungs. They tumbled across the floor, closer to the balcony. Veiul pulled herself on top, landing blow after blow, slamming her fists into Fang’s face and head. Relentless. Unmerciful. She grabbed Fang by the collar, yanking her up so they were face to face.

  “Nothing,” Veiul hissed. “You. Are. Nothing. And what would Embeth say? Huh? Knowing her death was just—”

  With a grunt, Fang launched Veiul in the air and over the balcony. The fae fell over the edge without a sound. Fang heaved herself up and walked to the balcony, looking over the edge.

  Veiul gripped the bottom ledge with white knuckles. They stared at each other with their bloodied faces. The roar of the melee below filled their ears. The Turned were bathed in blood, roaring, howling, their greedy hands stretching up for new flesh.

  “You said I don’t belong with humans or vampires or the nether-realm. But I know where you belong, and it looks like your people are ready to take you,” Fang said.

  Veiul smirked. “And who will you be joining? Do you think anyone will let you in their little club? Maybe that pretentious detective Coyle? How long before you end up killing her? How long before she cries out while you watch helplessly?” Veiul’s face shifted and changed into Embeth’s.

  “Help! Help! Help me!”

  Fang stiffened, staring back into Embeth’s bloodied face. Her mind reeled. The thrashing crowd below melted into rolling, white-capped waves, the balcony under her hands turned into the ship’s railing, and her feet shifted under the sway of the deck.

  “No.” Fang shook her head. “No, this... this isn’t real.” But that was a lie. The crashing waves were just underneath Embeth’s feet as she held on to the railing. Freezing salt water drenched her face, the shock of it stealing away the breath in her lungs.

  “Sister! Help! Help!” Embeth cried out.

  “I’m trying.” Fang’s heart hammered louder than the crashing waves. But something wasn’t right, and she hesitated. Why wasn’t she trying harder? What was wrong with her?

  “You don’t love me!”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Then prove it.”

  The little girl reached up and Fang’s hand shot down to grab it. They held each oth
er, arm and arm, hand to hand. Fang smiled. She’d done it. She’d saved her sister. This was all so different from her memories, but she didn’t care what was real anymore. She had her sister now, they were together—

  Veiul slammed her knife into Fang’s arm, tearing through skin and bone and out the other side. Fang screamed and yanked her grip away.

  Veiul held on to the knife with both hands, grinning with bloodied teeth, cackling like a maniac. Fang yanked her arm away and ripped out the blade. The shape-shifting woman fell, her face melting, shifting from Embeth, to Fang, to Coyle and back to a grinning, giggling Embeth before she plunged into the melee of hands and claws and death. The Turned tore her to pieces.

  Fang sank to the floor, melting under the horrible strain of seeing Embeth dying—again. Her ears rang with every one of her sister’s cries for help. She stared at her trembling hands, her numb fingers, too slippery, too weak to hold on.

  And then the waves took her.

  Her head tapped against the balcony, deep wounds in her soul stealing her strength away. She squinted, remembering her voice stretched thin from crying out. Her body shaking as the men grabbed her and hauled her inside the ship. She didn’t speak again for months. Her mother disowned her almost immediately after the news broke. Everything was a blur after that.

  Something stirred, and Fang looked up. Embeth stood at her feet, staring.

  “She wasn’t telling the truth,” Embeth said

  Fang said nothing.

  “Are you hurt?” Embeth asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said. The aurorium burned like fire through her veins.

  “What’s wrong?” Embeth asked.

  Fang pulled a medical kit from a pouch and opened a glass vial. She gritted her teeth and poured a blue-colored potion over the wound before wrapping her arm tight with gauze. Horrible stabs of pain shot through her body, blurring her vision. Aurorium coursed through her veins, eating away at her healing factor, exposing the nerves to unbridled torment. She tightened her fists and squinted her eyes, willing the pain to ebb away. But it didn’t.