Dark Bound

by Kim Richardson

  The goblin washed his hands in a water basin and then dried them on his pants. “No. But I’m a damn good tailor.”

  I sighed through my nose. I wasn’t in the mood for the goblin’s misplaced sarcasm. I settled next to Tyrius, my back to the wall so I had a clear view of the goblin. “Why did you save us back there? You don’t even know who we are. You could have let the veth hounds kill us.”

  The goblin placidly arched his brows. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”

  “No one does the right thing anymore,” I said and shifted to a more comfortable position. “And no one does anything for free either. Do you want payment for this?”

  The goblin tossed the bloody towel in the water basin, his face creased in anger. “Payment? Do I look like a leprechaun to you? If I hadn’t stepped out, you’d be dead. Both of you.”

  That was true. Still, I wasn’t buying the good Samaritan act. “Why do you live here in this cave with those hounds out there? Aren’t you afraid that one day they might kill you?”

  “No.” The goblin lowered himself into the chair next to the fire, his bones cracking and popping with the effort. “They were here when I moved in. I couldn’t make them leave, so I chose to live here among them.”

  Surprised, I stared at him, squinting in the fire light. “Why? Are you suicidal?”

  His wrinkles deepened. “The hounds don’t bother me. Not with my light. They are afraid of it, you see. I don’t bother them, and in return they don’t bother me.”

  I watched the tiny goblin. “That was no ordinary light, and you know it.” I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest. “If I had to guess, I’d say that was some witch light or something equally spelled. Am I right?”

  Orange light from the fire flickered in the goblin’s large eyes. He was silent in thought. Deep concern in his gaze, he looked at Tyrius but still he said nothing.

  I could see loneliness in his eyes, or possibly something was troubling him. “How long have you lived down here?”

  For the first time, the goblin looked tense. “Long enough.”

  My face twisted. “Why don’t you leave? I’m sure you can find a better home than this creepy place. No offense.”

  The goblin continued to stare at the fire but never answered. I slipped my fingers through Tyrius’s fur, watching as his eyelids flickered. The goblin said he would be fine, so why hadn’t he woken up yet? How long did baals need to recover? I’d seen Tyrius wounded before, but never to this extent. Never this bad. Would he ever wake up?

  Fear had my blood pounding in my ears so much that I thought my eardrums might burst, but the rage knocked it out of existence. This was my damn fault. If Tyrius died, it would be because of me. I might as well have stabbed him myself.

  Damn those leprechauns. They sent us here to die. I should have never trusted them. Because of my stupidity, I had possibly gotten my best buddy killed, and my grandmother would lose her house.

  My mind whirled, leaving me with the feeling that I was spiraling down into an endless black hole of self-pity. First with Jax, and now Tyrius…

  I felt the meltdown-sweats trickling down my back. I couldn’t have a meltdown now, damn it. Not when my life finally felt organized, and I was settled.

  There was no other choice. I had to find the faerie.

  Where was that stupid faerie? How was I supposed to find him now that Tyrius was out cold?

  My eyes darted back to the goblin, who was still staring at the fire. Pitiful little creature. A thought occurred to me. If he’d lived in this hellhole for ages, he might know something of the faerie I was hunting.

  I watched the goblin carefully. “Have you ever come across a faerie called Ugul?” I asked, praying the souls would give me a break.

  The goblin turned and faced me, the nostrils of his large nose flaring. “Why?”

  My anger returned. “Because I want to discuss mortgage rates with him.” I glared at the goblin, feeling that I was at my wits’ end. “Do you know where I can find him or not? It’s a simple question?” I was running out of patience, and seeing Tyrius lying next to me looking dead, I was about to go psycho-bitch on his ass.

  “I know where you can find him,” said the goblin after a moment.

  “You do?” I sat upright and held my breath. “Where? Where is he?”

  The goblin snorted. “Right here. You found him. He’s me.”

  My tongue felt heavy in my mouth as I narrowed my eyes, thinking this was another trick. “You’re Ugul?” I leaned back shaking my head. “No, you’re not. You can’t be.”

  “Are you hard of hearing, angel-born? I just said that he is me. Unless you’re looking for another faerie named Ugul, and that would be my great-grandfather, but he’s been dead for three hundred years. The only Ugul in this mortal world is me.”

  I felt the start of a headache pound on my temples. “But Ugul is a faerie. You’re a goblin.”

  The goblin’s brown eyes gazed earnestly at me and he said, “Goblins are faeries. Faeries of the Light Court.”

  14

  I didn’t know what else to do, so I started to laugh. “You’re screwing with me. Aren’t you, goblin?”

  The goblin snarled at me. “What did you expect? A tall, handsome faerie with a muscled chest, small nose and dreamy eyes?”

  I pursed my lips. “Something like that.”

  “Nah.” He swiped a hand at me. “You watch too much television.” The rest of his conversation was lost to me as he turned his head and mumbled to himself while looking into the fire.

  “But…” Never had I ever come across any books or records that stated goblins were faeries. If I had, I think I would remember. This was nuts.

  I exhaled slowly, my mind whirling. There was no way of knowing if this goblin was speaking the truth. But then again, I had never had the pleasure of meeting a faerie of the Light Court. I’d only ever encountered those foul Dark Court faeries. Maybe… maybe this goblin-faerie was telling the truth. Maybe he was Ugul.

  It would explain why he was living out here, why he had an army of veth hounds surrounding his home, and why the faeries of the Dark Court could never reach him.

  My eyes traced over his somewhat overly large head, misshapen face, ears that drooped nearly to his shoulders, flaky balding scalp, and brown skin deepened with wrinkles as he pondered over something. He would scare the daylights out of human children. And yet…

  Conflicting emotions spiked through me like a shot of adrenaline. If he truly was Ugul, then my job was done. And with a simple delivery to the dark fae queen, I’d pay off my grandmother’s debt and set things right again.

  The thought made me smile. Still, the half-breed had saved us. Shit. I was so screwed.

  “This makes no sense,” I blurted out loud before I realized what I’d done.

  “What doesn’t make sense?”

  I flinched at the familiar voice. Tyrius was sitting up, his blue eyes wide and healthy. His stitches had disappeared and white stubble spotted his belly as his fur was already starting to grow out. “What’d I miss?” said the cat.

  My eyes burned as I fought to keep my tears at bay. I reached out and cupped his face into my hands, knowing he hated it but not caring. “Thank the souls. How do you feel?”

  Tyrius pulled his head from my grip and looked down at himself. “Like I’ve been through a meat grinder. What happened? I don’t remember. Must have blacked out. Did you patch me up?”

  “No,” I said, feeling the goblin’s eyes on me as I turned and said. “He patched you up.”

  Tyrius looked at the goblin. “Thank you, kind sir,” said the cat. “I’m in your debt. I’m Tyrius.”

  “Ugul,” said the goblin and I watched Tyrius for a sign that the goblin was lying. My throat tightened when Tyrius didn’t react the way he did at lies. He would have given me the look.

  The cat turned his gaze on me and arched a brow, telling me with his eyes that the goblin was indeed the faerie we’d been sent to find. He sniffed th
e air. “You got any food in this joint? I’d kill for some pizza or a cheeseburger.”

  The goblin was eyeing us strangely, having seen our silent exchange. Clenching his jaw, his fingers gripped the arms of his chair as he said, “No. No meat. Just vegetables and some dried fruit.”

  Tyrius made a hacking noise. “You light faeries don’t know what you’re missing.”

  Faeries. It all but confirmed it. My pulse leapt, and I took a fast breath. “Here,” I said, as I yanked a strip of beef jerky from my bag and gave it to Tyrius. “You knew goblins were faeries?”

  “Uh—yeah,” chewed the cat hungrily. “Goblins are faeries from the Light Court. I thought you knew that,” he added between chews.

  I moved my gaze back to the goblin. “I didn’t.” My heart rate was up.

  “But the light and dark fae never did get along. Did they?” inquired Tyrius, as he moved next to Ugul, still chomping on his beef jerky. “Some sort of conflict between the courts, right?”

  Ugul narrowed his eyes at the cat but said nothing.

  Tension grew in the sudden silence, and I could see the faerie was regretting his decision to save us. I shifted my weight into the earth in case I had to move fast. A sting of cold seeped through my jeans as the leprechaun coin pulsed, reminding me there was still a way out.

  Am I really going to do this?

  Cool damp drifted in, and I looked out through the dark entrance of the cave to the darkness beyond. I was conflicted. That had never happened to me before on the hunt. Getting rid of demon scum was my specialty. Hell, I was damn good at it. It was the only thing in my life that brought me a sense of purpose. But this goblin-faerie gave me pause. He wasn’t the demon filth I was so used to dealing with. Whatever he’d done had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t my problem. Was he truly evil? He had saved us, but he had also killed the faerie queen’s son.

  “Why are you here?” Ugul’s eyes rounded. “Who sent you?”

  “Who says anyone sent us?” said the cat as he looked at me with encouragement. His eyes said do it.

  Crap. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure Ugul could hear it.

  “She sent you. Didn’t she?” pressed Ugul as he pushed back his chair and stood, his resonant voice vibrating in me though he stood ten feet away. “Clever. She knew I’d keep you safe because of what you are. I should have let the veth hounds kill you.” He took a step back, his eyes contemplating.

  From my ear Tyrius snickered. “Awwww, he’s so sweet I could fart hairballs.”

  I clenched my jaw, and my hands fisted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Anticipation tightened to a hard ball in the pit of my being. This wasn’t good. The longer I waited, the harder it was going to be. Besides, I’d seen some of the magic he could do. I had no idea what else the faerie could pull out of his ass or just how powerful he was.

  “Yes, you do,” the goblin said softly, his dark expressive eyes flicking from me to Tyrius. “You came here looking for me. But you should never have come. I hate to kill the angel-born, but you’re giving me no choice. I must protect myself. I must protect us all.”

  Tyrius laughed. “What’s he been smoking?”

  “Know that it gives me no pleasure, no pleasure at all. But I must kill you,” Ugul said, and a shudder rippled through me as I crouched down low. “She will bring the end to everything, and I cannot allow it.”

  A hard expression marred Ugul’s face, reminding me of just who he was and what he was capable of. He had killed the queen’s son, after all. A cruel smile curved the corners of his mouth. The goblin raised his hand, his lips moving in a soundless spell as a ball of white light formed in his palms, the same white light I’d seen him use on the veth hounds.

  And in a blinding fast motion, he hurled it at me.

  But the goblin had no idea who he was screwing with.

  I dove to the side, but not fast enough. I cried out as the ball hit my right arm. I crashed to the floor as the sphere exploded into white sparkles. Pain ripped through my body, and tension pulled my muscles tight one by one as the hot tingling started from my toes and worked its way up to my neck. A metallic stench tickled my nose and then I smelled burnt hair.

  “Rowyn!” yelled Tyrius, over the ringing in my ears.

  Trembling, I pushed with my knees, not entirely of my own will, and forced myself upright. When the wave of nausea stopped, I looked at Ugul’s stunned face.

  The goblin stared at me, frowning with frustration rippling over his face and deepening his wrinkles.

  “Goddamn it. That hurt,” I yelled, staring at the small remnants of his light magic like tiny electrical currents coiling over my body. It hurt like bloody hell, but I wasn’t dead. By the look of utter shock on Ugul’s face, I knew he’d planned to kill me with that ball of light.

  But it hadn’t worked.

  Somehow his faerie magic hadn’t done what he’d intended. My twisted angel and demon mojo had saved my ass.

  A smile quirked my lips, and I aimed it at the suddenly unsure goblin. “You shouldn’t have done that, dearest Ugul.”

  Ugul’s face was murderously furious. Clearly ticked, the goblin strode to Tyrius, a strange language spilling from him. “Quiso ru setodies ipsos antgu?” he said wrathfully. Tendrils of white energy twined around his fingers, and I about lost it.

  Screaming in rage I flew towards the faerie.

  He turned his head at my approach, his arms up to hit me again with that light faerie magic crap. Using my momentum and with an open hand, I hit him as hard as I could on his left temple. Ugul opened his mouth to say something but then froze. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and then he dropped to the ground, out cold.

  Tyrius bounded next to me. “Rowyn, you did it! Not that I had any doubt whatsoever. You know what this means? We can save Granny’s house!”

  I stared down at the unconscious goblin-faerie at my feet, my stomach queasy. “Then why do I feel like an asshole.”

  15

  “He’s a lot heavier than he looks,” I panted as I dragged the goblin-faerie back through the tunnels by his feet. We’d used his small rowboat to get back across the water, and to my surprise and relief, the veth hounds never showed up again. He stank of cabbage and firewood. After he’d fallen unconscious I’d bound his wrist with iron cuffs—iron being a natural magic repellent—to keep him from doing any of his faerie magic and his feet with large zip ties. Not taking any chances, I’d gagged the goblin with an old scarf I’d found in his cave. I was sure, given the opportunity, he would try to conjure his magic.

  The leprechaun coin was pressed against the skin of my right palm, sending waves of warmth pulsing into it. Using the coin as a guide, we were making really good time.

  “Are you sure this is the right way?” questioned Tyrius as he padded ahead of me. Already the baal’s fur had grown out and I couldn’t even tell where he’d been stitched up. “We could be lost, you know. That coin might still be a trick.”

  “Why would it be?” I said, hearing my voice rasp. My heart was pounding and sweat had broken out all over my body. “The leprechauns told us where to find Ugul, and they were right. Why would they lie about this coin if they told us the truth about the faerie?”

  “Because they want to mess with our heads? I don’t like it,” grumbled the cat.

  “I know. You’ve told me a hundred times already. Think of it this way. Maybe this coin will bring us some luck. God knows we deserve a little.”

  Tyrius mumbled something but I couldn’t make it out. My clothes were dry, and whatever was in that water had crusted over my jeans in thin flakes of dark green. My mood worsened with the effort of dragging the faerie, but I suspected the guilt of what I was about to do was even heavier than him.

  My shoulders burned in pain. I exhaled loudly and pulled the faerie over a large rock.

  “God I hope we’re getting to the end of the tunnel soon,” I breathed. The coin pulsed with warmth, telling me we were still on the right path. “I’m
tired of hauling his faerie ass.”

  “We’re almost there,” answered the cat. “I can smell the grime from the Hudson River. Shouldn’t be long now.”

  I raised my brows, feeling a trickle of sweat drip between my breasts. “Impressive.”

  Tyrius turned and looked up at me. “Have you thought about how we were going to get him to Mystic Quarter without the humans calling the cops on us with a kidnapping charge?”

  “You mean faerie-napping,” I offered and yanked the faerie by his feet. “I’m calling a cab once we get to the park. He’s my drunk dad and we’re taking him home.”

  Tyrius tsked. “A cab to Mystic Quarter? You sure that’s wise?”

  Annoyed, I glared at the cat. “As close as the cab driver’s willing to drive us. I’ll drag him to the bloody tower myself if I have to.”

  Tyrius flinched at my sour mood but said nothing as he kept walking, though a little faster now.

  When we finally made it to the large cleft in the wall, the entrance to Elysium, I nearly collapsed in relief. I smiled as I spotted Tyrius’s paw print on the wall and hauled the unconscious faerie through the gap. We’d made it out.

  I thanked the leprechaun’s coin silently as we finally arrived at the mouth of the tunnel. I didn’t think Tyrius would appreciate me kissing it. Pocketing my lucky coin, I set Ugul gently on the ground and stepped out. Closing my eyes, I inhaled the fresh early morning air and then crashed into something hard yet soft.

  A body. And I recognized its musky scent that had my heart pumping.

  My eyes flashed open. “Jax?” I cried out, nearly tripping over Ugul. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Jax looked at me, and as our eyes met, I felt my chest contract. Damn. Why did he have that effect on me? I should be mad as hell, not tingly inside like a girl with a schoolboy crush.