Crown of Smoke and Blood

by Sadie Jacks

  Taking a few deep breaths, I tried to get my body to still. But it refused—yet again—to listen and obey. As if it were finally running through each of my commands from the lawn, it flopped and flung itself around the small foyer. I even landed face down for part of it. Although why I would have thought turning my face into the ground would have stopped the agony, I’ll have no idea. Luckily, I rolled back over so I could do more than count the grains of wood in my entryway. My body finally stopped when it ran through its courses.

  I lay still once more. My breath finally settled in my lungs. Blinking, I studied my ceiling. Ornate and intricate, the craftsmanship from days gone by still managed to marvel me. While I appreciated the expediency with which I was able to attain just about anything, it saddened me that true master craftsmen were few and far between.

  I hadn’t taken the time to admire the mastery of it in far too long. Now that I wasn’t dead—again—I decided I needed to be more appreciative. Of the ceiling. Of life in general. Stop whining and complaining about the lot life had given me.

  Easing up into a seated position, I groaned. It felt like every single one of my muscles had shifted from molten lava to something that more closely resembled frozen taffy. Clenching my eyes closed against the pain, my breath heaved as I tried to shove the agony aside. I’d experienced more physical pain in the last twenty minutes than I had in my entire undead life to date.

  Someone needed to die for the agony I’d just suffered through.

  Tavis cleared his throat, breaking into my thoughts. “How are ye not dead?”

  I shook my head, felt my brain shift to the side. Gorge rose up the back of my throat. Bracketing my hands on either side of my head, I tried to still the raging sloshing inside it. “I don’t know,” I whispered.

  I heard him walk around, move in front of me. The heat from his body pulsed at me in the cool darkness of my home. I shuddered against that heat. I’ve had a few sunburns as a human. Right now, I felt like my entire body was one big, blistering burn. And the heat coming off of Tavis made my stomach dip and roll. For the first time since becoming one of the Nightwalkers, I savored the cold. Relished it.

  “Back up, Tavis.” I tried to kick at him with my foot, but it probably just looked like I was seizing again.

  He skittered back a couple steps.

  The radiating heat finally died off.

  “How’s that?”

  I nodded. Worked up the nerve to open my eyes again and looked at him in the low light. The sun had turned the inside of my eyelids to sandpaper. The fact that I could still see fine was one less punishment I would visit on that godsforsaken woman. There was only one thing off with my sight: the air around Tavis seemed to shimmer as he stood in front of me.

  What the hell?

  Lifting one hand, I rubbed at my eyes. I swear I could hear the grit scratching at the fragile organs. Blinking a couple times, I looked at Tavis again. He was still shimmering.

  “I can see your magic.” My voice was hard.

  He blinked. Shook his shoulders. Looked at me, one blonde brown high. “Can you still see it?”

  I nodded. “Aye. It’s a bit brighter now, to be honest.”

  His growl was something fierce. “What the hell does that mean?”

  I shook my head gingerly. “No idea. But it's like an aura around your body.” Had that woman done something else to me? I didn’t even have an idea of what she could have done, just that things were different now after I’d interacted with her.

  I stuck out my hands. “Give me a boost, yeah?”

  Tavis reached down, grabbed my tender flesh.

  Trying to hide my wince and get to my feet at the same time was almost too much for my battered body to deal with all at once. My brain tipped to the side once more, but this time I crashed into the wall instead of falling back to my arse on the floor. I was counting it as a win.

  “What the hell happened to you last night? You never showed.” Tavis backed up, his hands still outstretched. Anger and concern fought for dominance in his voice.

  I waved him off. “Did you not smell the blood last night?” I peered up at him. Even at my height of six-four, the man was still taller than me.

  He shook his head. “No scents out of the ordinary. Did you feel the portals?” His green eyes were wide in the dark.

  I shook my head. “I’ve never been through your portals, so I have no idea what they feel like. When did the disturbance happen?”

  “Round about midnight, I’d say.” He backed up, crossed his long arms over his chest. His blonde hair was pulled back in a loose knot at the base of his neck. His beard would make a Highlander hermit jealous.

  Casting my mind back to last night and the fiasco it wrought, I nodded. “That’d be about the same time I found her then.” Anger began to eat through the confusion. “Who the feck was she?”

  I slumped against the wall, trying to bring her face up in my mind. All I got was a hazy picture of amber eyes and dark hair that slapped at golden cheeks.

  And the blood. The scent of her blood had been an aphrodisiac. A siren’s call. It had grabbed me by the throat and hadn’t let go.

  “Koehn, you bloody git, answer me!” Tavis yelled inches from my face.

  I jerked, glared up at him. “What?” My fangs descended as more anger surged through me

  His jaw flexed as he blew out a breath. “Who is she?”

  “That’s what I fecking want to know!” I shook my head. Shoved a hand through my hair. Licking my lips, I tried to describe her. But the more I concentrated on her, the fuzzier she became in my memories. Just a haunting mix of colors and scents. I shook my head. Closed my mouth.

  Tavis bent at the knees, peered into my eyes. “Do ye need blood, then?”

  I did an internal check. It was bad when I got too low on blood. Very bad. But right now, I was only a bit low, but not unreasonably.

  Shaking my head, I pushed upright. “I’ve got some stored. Come with me.” I started walking, felt every single day of my two hundred and thirty-five years. Another thing that…woman would answer for.

  Making our way through the huge house, I didn’t bother with the lights. Knew Tavis didn’t need them to see clearly either. With only the sounds of our footsteps to join us, we made our way to the back of the house. Stepped into the kitchen that was larger than the entirety of some houses down the lane.

  Going directly to the fridge, I got out a couple bags of my preferred type. Ripping the bags open, I dumped them into a coffee cup and stuffed the whole bit into the micro. The sight of the blood made me a bit nauseous, but it was either suck it down or feast on Tavis. And neither of us wanted that to happen.

  Pulling the now warm blood from the appliance, I tipped it back. Appreciated the burn of the slightly fevered crimson liquid. It would tide me over for the day. Hopefully give me enough of a boost to heal the damage the sun had wrought.

  The sun. I’d been in the sun today. And hadn’t died.

  The coffee cup thumped to the countertop. I looked up at Tavis. “I was in the sun.”

  He looked at me as if I’d gone crazy. He nodded. “Aye. That is where I picked ye up from.” His blonde brows furrowed. “What were ye doing out there? And, for what feels like the millionth time, how are ye not dead?”

  I shook my head. “I have no idea. I found some woman slumped in the road. Her blood called to me from across town.”

  His brows winged up. “How far?”

  “Maybe four miles?” I shrugged. Last night, I’d been too focused on getting to the source of the scent before anyone else to worry about the distance. “When I found her, I brought her back here.”

  His eyebrows wiggled. “That good, huh?”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Yes, you child. I planned to persuade her to spend the night if necessary.”

  His bottle green eyes widened. “Ye swore off that almost a hundred years ago.”

  I nodded, rubbed a hand over my face. “I know.” I shook my head. “Something
about the blood…I can’t explain it.” I wiped a hand over my mouth. Could have sworn I tasted her on my lips. My clothes were covered in the stuff, but it was dried and stale. Nothing like the magic of smelling it last night. The scent of it dried and dead made my stomach turn slightly.

  “What happened then? I don’t see her.” He looked around the kitchen as if she would suddenly appear. When he turned back to me, he had anger riding his gaze. “Is she still alive?” He took a menacing step forward, his arms slowly falling from their crossed position.

  I nodded. Held out a hand to stop his progress. “She never came inside. At least that I remember. I cut my thumb, intending to heal her enough so she didn’t bleed out. I wanted that blood in my body, not decorating the street.” I glared up at him.

  He relaxed. Nodded. “Then how did ye end up on yer back in the sun?”

  “If you’d shut your mouth, I could tell you.” I stared at him.

  He smirked, stepped back. Gave me a wave.

  I nodded. “She kept sucking on my thumb.”

  He snickered.

  I rolled my eyes. “Then, when I tried to force her to let me go, she not only didn’t let me go, she spoke into my mind.”

  Tavis MacDougal went still as a statue. His eyes wide.

  I nodded. He finally understood the gravity of the situation. “When that didn’t work, I felt this weird…” I waved my hands around my body, tried to come up with the words. Ended up just shaking my head. “Thing. My brain was in a juicer, my body was floating, and I landed on my back.”

  “You were in the same place this morning?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I’m assuming so. I woke up as the sun breached the horizon.” Speaking of that, I reached down, pulled my shirt up and off in one smooth move. With the blood coursing through my body, I was feeling a bit more myself.

  Looking down, I saw something I never thought to see. Along the right side of my abdomen, a pattern of charred flesh looked as if it had been seared into my body.

  Tavis cursed, backed up. “Shite, Trick.”

  I looked up at him, my old nickname unfamiliar on the air. “What? Do you recognize the symbol?”

  He nodded, his usually bronze face paler than a full moon. “Oh, aye.” He lifted his gaze to mine. I saw something on his face I never would have imagined: fear that bordered on terror. “Ye’ve been marked.”

  Marked? “By what?”

  He shook his head. “Not by what. By whom.” He backed up, his hands held out in defense. “By one of them. I’d thought they were but boogeys in the dark. Naught but the nightmare stories of old women to terrify the bairns.”

  “Tavis, stop your bloody shuffling and tell me what this is.” I stabbed a finger towards my chest.

  He looked up at me. “That’s the mark of the Fuioll Mallacht.”

  Chapter 3 – Vari

  Flying. I was flying.

  Wait. Could I fly? Was that a thing I could do? I knew I was capable of some pretty spectacular stuff, but flying hadn’t been mentioned. Not in any of the briefings I’d been made to sit through.

  You aren’t flying. You just feel like you are because you had some of that Nightwalker’s blood. Now get your tiny arse to some cover since you insisted on not staying at his residence.

  I knew that voice. Had felt its comfort inside my head for almost as long as I could remember.

  Because I live inside you, silly chit. Now hurry up or you’ll call more attention than you can escape from.

  I chuckled. “Like a vampire trying to suck me dry?”

  The voice snorted softly. Exactly like that.

  Doing as I was told, I walked up and down the dark streets. Humans didn’t know how good they had it. Clean, fresh air. Getting to leave their dungeons—I mean, rooms—whenever they wanted. Not getting cut open both physically and spiritually every other day. This was the good life.

  HONK! “Get out of the fecking way, whore!” a man screamed as he drove by me, his fist out the window.

  Smiling after him, I blew him a kiss. The good life.

  My legs started to tremble. A quiver here. A jump there. I knew I’d lost too much blood. There were some things even the beings inside me needed to keep on living. Granted, blood wasn’t necessary for some of them. But the body I inhabited most often certainly did.

  And I’d lost so much of it.

  Bouncing off clean fences that lined tidy yards from one side of the street to the other, I felt like a leaf blowing in the wind. A jittery, shaking leaf. I wiped a hand across my forehead, almost surprised it wasn’t soaking wet.

  Then why was I so cold?

  Blood loss. Find some place to hide, Vari. Now.

  I wrinkled my nose at the bite in the voice. Made faces as I struggled to see through the darkening hole that was my vision.

  And don’t sass me, puny Fae.

  Stumbling over a mountain, I landed hard on stone. My head thunked hard with a hollow thump that turned my stomach. No. No. NO!

  I blinked against the darkness. Heard the familiar drip, drip, drip against the stone floor. The scent of antiseptic a sharp, bitter taste at the back of my tongue. I shouldn’t be here. I’d escaped. Gotten away from him.

  Calm your mind, my beast said.

  The nightmare washed away as I slid into the Hallway that carried them all. He’d taken over. Saved me again.

  Chapter 4 – Beastie

  Closing the connection between us, I waited to see if she would come barreling back towards me. I knew the only reason I’d been able to break through was that she was hurt. Beyond hurt really. Damaged. Almost irreparably.

  Stalking along the corridors of her analytical mind, I smiled at the neat and tidy boxes she’d created to keep her sane. All of us really. If she went crazy, none of us would exist. And we needed to exist.

  If for no other reason than to keep her safe. Our savior. Our protector. She had no idea who or what she truly was. Nor would she ever learn it. Not if I could help it. Some things did not improve a life.

  I should know.

  With long steps, I walked to my domain in her consciousness. Between my own magic and the ones she’d been given, she would be spared the additional horrors that were inflicted on her fragile body. Opening the metaphysical door between our minds, I closed it quickly lest something sneak by me.

  A nightmare played against the black expanse of her mind’s eye. Even though it turned my stomach, I could never let it leave this partitioned space. It would obliterate her soul, her very spirit. And I’d worked too hard and too long for her to break now.

  So I would keep it. Its weight heavy, but familiar on my shoulders. Settling into my customary spot, I watched it roll across her unconscious. My talons sank into my thighs as I relived the horror I kept from Vari. She didn’t need to know everything that happened when she was asleep.

  She was so small. So tiny and exquisite. Perfect in every single way. The soft skin that glowed with health so uncommon to her kind. Roses bloomed in her cheeks as the sounds of her quiet breathing filled the small room.

  Reaching down, I laid a hand over the little belly. Pudgy legs and arms sprawled in innocent wonder as her eyes flicked back and forth under her closed lids. Her Cupid’s bow mouth moved as if searching for her mother’s breast. The slightest flicker of a frown pulled at her brows before they smoothed back into place.

  I stood there, knife clenched in my fist. Hatred and desolation ate at my veins. My heart was nothing but a smoldering cinder that refused to die. But it kept pumping life through my body. Forcing me to walk in this life that required me to blacken my soul.

  The baby cooed, drawing my attention. Looking down I saw familiar eyes of purest amber. Still young and unsullied by the horrors of this place.

  But even in her short time on this plane, she’d failed. And in so failing, she brought death’s scrutiny upon herself. There was no room for failure. Not in this world.

  In here, perfection was the baseline. The consequence for normalcy was erasure.


  King Atavian’s voice rang through my head once more. “Have her kill it. It’s part of her. Let her see what happens if she balks at my commands.”

  I squeezed the knife so hard my knuckles popped in the silence. The man was nothing short of a monster. Hell, I’d known monsters before I’d been captured who were warm and cuddly compared to this man who called himself King. But a egomaniacal psychopath couldn’t be reasoned with. He only learned lessons the hard way.

  I would gladly be his teacher.

  With my hand still warm on the infant’s belly, I lowered my head and said a prayer. My people had long been lost to the memories of even the Fae. But our gods still roamed the universe. “Receive her, Mother Goddess. Carry her away on swift wings to the land of the Free. Embrace her light and guide her to her next life of joy. She’s earned her reward.”

  Curling my big hand under the babe, I lifted her to my chest. Pressed my lips to her hair. Inhaling deeply, I caught the scent of courage and determination that her sister wore like a perfume. She would grow into a beautiful woman. Wild, strong, and free.

  No taint of evil would darken her soul. No hate would harden her heart. No tears would stain her cheeks.

  I vowed this as I slid the knife between her delicate ribs. One quick plunge of the blade that would silence her cries for eternity.

  Her sweet body, already limp with innocent sleep, slumped against me in death. The heated beads of crimson that escaped the wound burned deep into my spirit. Marked me as a demon. A devil. A murderer of angels.

  With every breath in my shared body, I wanted to plunge the knife into my own chest. End the torment for all of us who were trapped. But I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Because there was more work to do.

  Raising my hand that cradled the babe’s bum up so no blood would stain the stone floor, I walked from the room. Sheathing the knife in the holster on our thigh, I began to stuff all feelings and thoughts away. I pulled on my best impersonation. They could never know that it was me and not her who moved her body.