“Isobel is queen of this land.” The male faerie did nothing to hide the ire in his voice, pulling my stomach tight. “She is the Dark Queen of New York,” he breathed, his eyes wide with some admiration and possibly a little fear.
“Right, well, she’s not my queen,” I said, loudly enough for the other faeries to hear. “What does she want?” I was beginning to regret not accepting Tyrius’s offer for backup. I never worked with a partner, apart for that one job with Jax, but I was wondering if I should start to seriously rethink that. His alter ego black panther might have been handy right now.
The faerie watched me for a moment. “Perhaps one day she will be your queen, and then you will show some respect.”
I scowled, not liking where this conversation was going. “Listen here, you skinny-ass faerie. I don’t have time for this. Either you tell me what she wants… or get the hell out of my way.”
A flicker of anger set the faerie’s eyebrows high. “I’d kill you right now, if my queen hadn’t commanded me not to harm you. Pity. I could have added Hunter to my list of kills.”
My mouth fell open. Torn between anger and shock, my face went cold. “You know,” I said as I felt a piece of the shifter’s remains slip down my forehead and wiped them away with my hand. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. I’m booked for the month. Sorry, but you’ll have to tell Her Highness no.” There was no way I was going to do a job for any faerie. I didn’t care if she was a queen or a princess. That meant diddlysquat to me.
“The queen is prepared to offer you twenty thousand dollars.” The faerie wrinkled his face as if carefully considering what I would say.
Twenty thousand? My heart leapt as I struggled to keep my face blank. “Sounds like something serious. And you still won’t tell me what it is?” That was more than a whole year’s pay, even as a freelancer.
A chill hit my guts. Typically with hunting, the higher a mark was priced, the more dangerous it was. It could be anything from a Greater demon to a mass of lesser demons. But with that kind of cash, my grandmother could keep her home.
My heart pounded. “Why me? Why not have—” I waved my bladed hand, “your own kind handle the queen’s affairs? Why seek me out?”
“The queen requires someone with your… unique skills,” replied the faerie, sounding both bored and irritated at the same time. His eyes were full of an amused disbelief as he took in my casual jeans and leather jacket. It was obvious he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of his queen requesting me for a job. Maybe he was jealous. Maybe that was just his normal face. And it made me all tingly inside.
Still, I’d never heard of any faerie—queen or common faerie—ask for help. Perhaps this was a trap and they wanted to lure me in with the promise of so much cash… then kill me… then eat me.
The faerie must have read my mind. His face pulled into a smile and my blood turned cold. His yellow teeth were filed down into sharp points, like the teeth of a fish.
Damn, maybe he wanted to eat me.
The faerie shifted and reached inside his jacket. I tensed, lowering myself in a crouch, only to find the half-breed flipping me a coin. A gold coin.
I caught it easily and flipped it over. Yup. It was gold. I rubbed my thumb over the portrait of a man’s face with a large hawk-like nose. The coin was from Spain. I couldn’t read the inscription around the edges, but I could make out the year 1822 engraved on the bottom. Who pays anything in gold these days? The stinky, filthy rich, that’s who.
“Please accept this gift as a token of my queen’s good faith.” The faerie’s dark eyes searched my face.
With my fingers, I moved the coin around in my hand. Damn, gold felt good. “I don’t even know what the job is. How can I say yes to something I don’t know?”
The faerie raised a brow, seemingly knowing I was going to say that. “It’s not my place to say. The details will be explained to you at the meeting. Do you accept an audience with the queen or not? A simple yes or no will do.” The faerie sighed, visibly biting back his annoyance.
I felt marginally better knowing that I was annoying him. Clasping the gold coin in my hand, I answered, “Fine,” surprising myself as I pocketed the gold coin before faerie-boy asked for it back. Tyrius was going to have a field day when I told him about this encounter—and possibly cough up a furball at what I had just agreed to do. Just the thought of his tantrum had the corners of my lips twitching.
“I’ll meet your queen,” I told the faerie. “But I’m not making any promises. I want to hear what she has to offer first, before I make my final decision. I’ll meet her… but it doesn’t mean I’m taking the job. Got it?”
A flicker of surprise moved over the faerie’s tight features. “Yes. That’s fine.”
“Okay then,” I said, tension tightening my shoulders. “When and where?”
The faerie met my gaze, his expression blank. “The queen wishes to see you at midnight tomorrow night at Sylph Tower.” He eyed me, his eyes suddenly bright with amusement. “Do you need directions?”
“I think I can manage,” I said, bristling. Sylph Tower was in Mystic Quarter.
A lump of fear settled heavily in my belly as a wicked, contriving smile spread over the faerie’s chiseled face. “Don’t be late,” he said. “My queen won’t tolerate tardiness.” And with that, the faerie spun on his heels and bounded back up the street.
I opened my mouth to tell him to shove his attitude up his ass, but my breath caught at the sudden shift in the air.
My skin erupted in gooseflesh as my heart thumped against my ribcage. From the shadows of the alley came a low hissing sound, and I felt another, stronger slither of vile and cold demon energy. Four Dark Court faeries appeared in the alley as though formed from the shadows. They all came together to form a line behind the blond faerie. Darkness cloaked their faces, but they were all tall and gangly like him and wearing similar black clothes with matching arrow-filled quivers—the very arrows that had been pointed at me this whole time.
I stood in silence watching the faeries disappear into the night until their foul scent had vanished and all that was left was the eye-watering stink of shifter demon guts on me.
I slipped my hand back into my pocket and pulled out the gold coin. What was this job? And why did the faerie queen of the Dark Court wish to hire me?
Unease tightened my chest as I rubbed my thumb over the Spaniard’s face. Nothing good would come from accepting a job from a faerie. And things could always get worse.
What did I get myself into?
4
“Can’t you just give the damn faerie his golden coin back and call this whole stupid thing off?” argued Tyrius as we walked along the sidewalk, his tail twitching nervously behind him. The light of the moon cast a silvery radiance over his tawny-colored body, making him glow. “I mean… you haven’t made a deal with the queen yet—so there’s no harm in not going. Call this off, Rowyn. You can’t trust the fae. I don’t care what comes out of their mouths. Tricksters, the lot of them. Nothing good can come from this meeting. Trust me. The fae are rotten to the core. It’s in their DNA. I don’t like it.”
“I don’t like the idea of working for any faerie,” I said. “But I can’t turn down twenty grand. Not when I’m desperate to save my grandmother’s house. And not until I know what she wants.”
“To eat you?”
I rolled my eyes. “She doesn’t want to eat me.” I hope.
“How would you know?” asked Tyrius incredulously. “You’ve never met her.”
“Neither have you.”
“Yes, but it’s my business to know things. And I know the queen is a monster in mortal flesh.”
“She’s a faerie, not a mortal—”
“She eats CATS!”
I sighed through my nose, my body tightening with anxiety. I didn’t want to argue with Tyrius on my way to meet this queen. His deep hatred for the fae was totally understandable, seeing as he was one of their preferred dishes. Faeries were a baal’s n
atural enemy, which made them my enemy. Besides, I had a feeling he was right. The queen was a monster.
Tension pulled my shoulders. The idea of meeting the faerie queen in her lair, surrounded by God knows how many, pointy-eared, cat-eating faeries, had me wire tight. Fear made my heart pound, and as a precaution, I’d doubled on my weapons, adding all the daggers and blades that would fit on my weapons belt. Just in case.
I was glad when Tyrius offered to come with me, but his being a baal demon—a Siamese cat—was a problem. The fae would see him as a meal rather than backup. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it wasn’t. I clenched my jaw as sweat broke out along my skin making me cold. I’d slaughter them all before they laid a finger on one of his whiskers. Not my Tyrius.
The Dark Court faeries were notoriously wicked, evil, and entirely without remorse. I’d never met any faeries from the Light Courts, so I had no idea if they were any more wicked than the Dark Court faeries. Still, only a fool would willingly associate with them. Apparently that fool was me.
“You don’t have to come, you know,” I said, my boots clanking loudly on the uneven sidewalk. The sound was dull in the heavy air from the evening’s rain. “I won’t be mad or anything if you want to leave. I can do this alone—”
“Not on your life, woman.” Tyrius’s tail bristled. “I’m coming with you. Besides, I want to see this witch of a queen with my own eyes. See if she’s as mad as the rumors say she is.”
“If she likes to eat fae kings,” I said, “I’d say she’s quite mad.”
Tyrius flashed me a smile, the only way a cat could smile. “Right you are, angel-born—or is it demon-born now?” His ears swiveled back. “I never asked you this but… do you feel more like an angel or a demon?”
I bit my lower lip. I’d been asking myself that question for months; did I identify myself as angel-born or demon-born?
“At this very moment… neither,” I answered. “I feel like me. Both I guess? I don’t know what it is to feel like more angel or demon. I only know what it is to feel like me.”
“Hmm. Perhaps you’re the perfect balance of both,” commented the cat, his tail high in the air as he padded next to me. “The yin and yang of angel and demon. The two halves that complete each other.”
That brought a smile to my face, but it disappeared as I pulled out my phone and checked the screen. Eleven forty-five. Still plenty of time to make my midnight rendezvous with Her Highness on time. I switched my phone to vibrate and dropped it in my pocket.
All around us, Mystic Quarter was just as flamboyant and strange as the last time I was here a few months ago, but without the Seal of Adam dragging me down. In this secret district, the paranormal lived and mingled freely—the only place where goblins sold jewelry at their night market, witch shops crowded the streets, werewolves tried to pick fights with opposing packs, and vampires out for a stroll displayed their hypnotic and cold beauty.
The stench of sulfur seared my nostrils, sharp and tainted with the thick smear of demon magic. It was everywhere in the air we breathed, and I tasted rot in my mouth.
As we passed another block, I caught a glimpse of a beautiful faerie girl running her hand along the muscled, tattooed chest of a male faerie. I pulled my gaze away as he turned his dark eyes on me.
We were moving swiftly through the streets and I was aware of every glance between the faeries. I could make out crowds of vampires gathered on the many balconies and windows of elegant brownstone apartment buildings and heard the clink of their glasses and low chatter as we passed them. From the calculating looks on their faces, it was almost as though they were expecting to see us.
A chill from the wind pulled my head up. The night was awake and damp, and the hum of humanity was far away and distant, oblivious to the lively quarter filled with paranormals. The moon was trying to break through the light fog, giving everything a silver sheen.
And I was going to see the faerie queen of the Dark Court.
Tyrius looked up at me, his blue eyes a stark contrast against his black mask. “You look like crap.”
Lips pursed, I glared down at him. “Always so gallant, aren’t we?”
The Siamese cat tottered gracefully next to me, tail held high in the air like a show cat. “I’m just stating the obvious. Are you sleeping okay? Too much on your mind? A particular someone on your mind?”
Blood rushed up to my face. “Shut up.” I hated how perceptive the tiny baal demon was and how easily I flushed at the thought of Jax. I hadn’t been able to get his kiss out of my mind since he’d planted it on me. My heart raced just at the memory of his lips crushing mine. A shudder went through me as I recalled how soft they’d felt, and the eager, unashamed desire in his eyes.
“Hmmm,” came the cat’s voice, pulling me out of my reverie. “Still haven’t heard from him, huh?”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. There’s no reason he should call. It’s not like we’re a thing—because we’re not. He has his own life to live.” I shrugged. “We’re just friends—”
“Just friends?” drawled Tyrius. “I seriously doubt that. Jax and I are just friends. The mailman and I are just friends. But you two are not just friends and you know it.”
Feeling my chest clench, I swallowed hard. Jax’s absence had put a damper on my mood lately. I couldn’t pretend that his lack of communication didn’t hurt a little. Just a little. The last time I’d seen him was on the morning of Vedriel’s death. That was more than six months ago.
Maybe he was too busy with Amber, the voluptuous redheaded angel-born, to remember who I was. Jax was too pretty to be single, and it wasn’t like he owed me anything. We’d only just met for a job from the council and then had parted ways. Perhaps it was just as well. Love, feelings, relationships—they complicated matters. My life was complicated enough, thank you very much.
“What about that kiss?” said Tyrius.
“That was nothing,” I said, my voice flat. “It was just a kiss.”
“I saw the way the two of you were looking at each other,” said the cat, and I heard the dismissal in his voice. “If we weren’t about to kick some demons’ asses, you would have ripped each other’s clothes off and done it right there and then.”
“Tyrius!” I hissed, my eyes widening in shock.
The cat raised a brow. “You know it. And I know it.”
“I do not.”
“Admit it,” the cat drawled. “That was not just a kiss.”
My face flamed like it was on fire. Knowing Tyrius had witnessed the kiss made it worse. “I don’t have time for romance,” I said, aware of about a dozen faeries eyeing us from the street corner. A male with bright red hair licked his lips as he smiled at Tyrius, revealing his pointed teeth. “I’m not a romantic person either,” I voiced, walking faster. “And I’m definitely not girlfriend material. I need to get my life in order first. Then… who knows.”
Tyrius was silent for a moment. His graceful trotting turned into a guarded progression, like he felt something was about to jump him. “Is it me or have all the faeries from Mystic Quarter decided to grace us with their faerie presence tonight?”
Glad for the change in subject, my skin prickled as more and more fae stepped from the shadows and into the light of the moon, their hungry eyes on us. “They must know we’re meeting with their queen. Maybe they’re just curious,” I said, but I pressed my palm into the pummel of my soul blade.
“Yeah. And maybe they’re just hungry.” Tyrius’s fur stuck out on its end, giving the impression of more bulk. “Remind me why we’re going to meet with the faerie princess again?”
“I’ve got twenty thousand reasons why.” I looked down at the Siamese cat as we walked. “You’ve been in a bad mood all day. What’s with the pissy attitude?”
“I broke a nail.” Tyrius hissed at a faerie female with pigtails as she slipped from her group and tried to get closer. She made a face at the cat’s reaction, causing her pretty features to warp and twist into something grotesque and
animal-like. Strange how fast their beauty disappeared. Made me wonder if it was just a glamour.
“It’s this fae business,” said the baal demon. His eyes narrowed into slits. “I hate those pointy-eared bastards.” He eyed the faerie girl, his eyes like tiny moons in the semi-darkness.
I opened my mouth to remark that he too had pointed ears, but then I decided it would just make him angrier. I was glad he was here. I didn’t want him to get pissed at me too.
So, instead I said, “Get ready for more of these pointy-eared bastards.” I motioned with my head towards the tall, gleaming black building. “There’s Sylph Tower.”
Across from us was a three-story building, the sort of place you could never look away from even though it gave you the creeps. It was a peculiar building, rumored to have been built by the faeries themselves in the likes of their demon forefathers’ homes.
The building consisted of ridged, painted stucco on a cylindrical cement frame with rusty rain smeared on the outer walls so that gobbets of orange ran down the walls in streaks like blood. Strands of stucco stuck out, molded into points like big clumps of wet fur. It looked like a silo wearing a black fur coat.
I grimaced. It was the ugliest building I’d ever seen, and I’d seen my share of butt-ugly buildings.
“Thank God it’s not too obvious or anything,” I muttered. Pulse quickening, I crossed the street, squinting at the building as I headed toward it.
I’d crossed paths with Sylph Tower before, but I’d never actually been inside.
And now I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
5
“The uglier and gaudier it is, the more the fae will like it,” said Tyrius as he padded beside me. “Twenty bucks says it’s even tackier on the inside.”
A dark figure emerged from the shadows of a lamppost, and a spike of fear shot through me as it headed towards us. Heart pounding, I pulled my soul blade from my weapons belt—
Dark Bound Page 3