by Mina Carter
Tessa was hauled over the floor, kicking and screaming towards the woman who should have been their saviour, their journey’s end.
“Why?” Tessa asked as Ilia sauntered around her, an oasis of calm next to the bloody fight being waged mere feet away.
Ilia cocked an eyebrow, eyes glittering with malice. “Why? Because I can. Because I’m fed up with all this fucking ‘harm none’ goody two-shoes crap. Why should I miss out because someone else says I shouldn’t do this, or that, or the other? What gives them the right to dictate what I can and can’t do?” she demanded as she came up behind Tessa, winding a small hand around her throat.
“Ok, I’m really getting bored now,” She jerked Tessa’s chin up with a strength her frail body just shouldn’t have had. Her voice rose a little, carrying over the fight. “Enough, or she dies.”
He wasn’t going to win this, couldn’t win it. Despite the adrenalin of the fight surging through his veins Feral could feel the exhaustion beating at him, leeching his strength. He needed to feed, and more than the random splashes of blood here and there when one of his opponents got too close to his fangs. Tiny tantalising splashes of blood practically humming with power. Fae blood always did have that effect, and gave him a blinding headache in the morning to boot.
The scene froze as Ilia’s voice cut across the mayhem. One moment a writhing mass of violence, the next a scene worthy of a medieval tapestry. Standing off to one side was Ilia, Tessa held captive in her arms. Her small hands around the Pixie woman’s throat and her lips hovering close to the pulse Feral could see beating frantically.
He went still, as still as the death he could feel stalking the room, his eyes locked on the Fae Princess. On the small smile that played over her lips. He recognised the subtle warning. A silent message from one predator to another, something intended for him alone.
Behave or I tear her throat out. Bile rose in his throat along with his anger as he registered the excitement on her face at the impending kill.
No Fae should have that kind of knowledge or that dark need. It just wasn’t natural. It was a curse his people lived with, put up with. Learned to control. It wasn’t something any of them would have chosen but something thrust on them at birth and to a man, woman and child every one of them would do anything to be free of it. That someone would seek it, revel in it. That sickened Feral on levels he didn’t realise existed.
There was no way out of this. No way at all, he was on his own in a place his fellow warriors couldn’t come riding to the rescue as they had when Vixen had been taken by the Pixies. His lips quirked in amusement. The fact he didn’t look half as good in leathers as Vixen did might have something to do with it.
His amusement faded as he spoke, his voice low and full of menace. “Harm her and you’d better make sure you put me down for good. Because I don’t care how long it takes, I’ll be coming for you.”
Her laugh, light and musical, flowed around the hall. A beautiful sound totally out of place with the ugly words that followed.
“Did you really think I was going to let any of you live anyway?” she sneered, “Come on, even a vampire thug like you has to have figured it out. At least I should hope you did because, honestly sweetheart, your brains are about all you’ve got going for you,” She laughed, amused by her own joke.
“Look at Talven for example. He’s lucky he’s got his looks because, well, let’s just say his IQ isn’t the best. I pity his children… the Fae as a race get dumber and more like the humans every generation,” she spat. “Why do you think I’ve done what I have? Someone has to step up and stop this descent into… averageness!! And if it takes the flesh of a half-breed brat then that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make! The rest of you… collateral damage,” She flicked her hand dismissively.
Behind Feral, Talven jerked slightly, the small movement registering in the Kyn’s mind. So loyal lapdog Talven didn’t know about that little snippet eh? That was interesting.
Quite how Feral was going to use that to his advantage he didn’t know. Yet.
He watched her with dead eyes. He had a stare that could give a rattlesnake a headache and he was employing it at full strength now, the promise of her death in his dark eyes as he made a silent promise. Somehow, this bitch was going down!
“Get him out of here,” she snapped, breaking eye contact first. “Take him to the pit of eternal despair.”
Feral couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing as the guards seized his arms, clamping heaving manacles around his wrists.
“Sheesh, the ‘pit of eternal despair’?” he mocked as they dragged him towards the doors. “Can’t you guys come up with something a little more original? No wonder you’re dying out, a human toddler has more imagination than that!”
His mocking laughter echoed around the room as the doors closed with a resounding clang, leaving the woman he loved at the mercy of a monster.
Chapter Nine
“Tessa!”
It took two knights all their strength to get the struggling Kyn even halfway down the corridor. Even then it was obvious he was only waiting for a gap in their concentration to allow him to get the drop on them.
“You can’t do this! You can’t let her do this!” He dug his heels in harder, stopping his guards’ forward momentum in its tracks. Feral was a big man, even for a Vampire and he was packed with hard earned, rather than gym sculpted, muscle. The sort of muscle a guy built up working for a living. In Feral’s case that was fighting violently. But he wasn’t fighting physically now. No, he was astute enough to realise that his advantage lay in the verbal. After all, they couldn’t put a manacle on his tongue.
“You do realise what she is, don’t you?” He carried on, his voice low in the corridor, punctuated by the grunt of effort from the guards and the shuffling of feet as he made them work for every inch they moved him.
“She’s some sort of Fae Rogue Talven, worse than a blood drinker… she eats flesh!”
He watched his target for the tiniest flicker or emotion or reaction. He knew Talven wasn’t immune to the situation, he’d felt the guy start in surprise when Bitch Queen in there had said she intended to sacrifice the baby. Desperation filled him, could already have sacrificed him.
He could already be too late, Tessa and the baby might already be dead.
He went for broke, “You ever seen a Rogue victim Talven? Ever seen how the Rogue feed?” he asked, his voice strangely hypnotic in the silence of the corridor. “They prefer their victims alive you know, apparently the pain and terror of what’s happening to them adds flavour to the meat,” he explained nonchalantly, as though this were merely an academic discussion.
“Of course… they have to tourniquet their victims in some way, so they don’t bleed to death during a meal and loose all that lovely flavour. I’ll bet your Lady-love in there’s into bondage isn’t she Talven? Bit of titillation before she has a snack… does that do it for you as well? The idea of that baby wrapped up in bondage gear? Something she’s used for something so corrupt and kinky?” Feral continued hammering away at what instinct told him was a chink in Talven’s mental armour.
“Think about it Talven. That little baby. Abused and tortured because some stupid bitch can’t handle the way life turned out. Can you live with that?”
Talven sighed, his pace faltering as he lowered his head in shame. Nausea filled him.
The Vampire was right. He had no idea that Ilia planned this, that she’d sunk quite this low.
No, he corrected himself, he’d known. He’d just been ignoring the warning signs because he didn’t want to believe it. Hadn’t wanted to believe these horrors of the beautiful, gentle woman he remembered from when he first came to court.
Deep down, he loved her. Or did he? Did he love a memory, a ‘what if’ or a ‘what might have been’? Either way, that wasn’t a good enough reason to let her carry on. If he didn’t do something now, if he continued to look the other way, then more people would die… an innocent baby died. An
d the resulting battle for power could destroy the court as they knew it.
He couldn’t let that happen. Even if it meant destroying himself.
“Let him go,” he ordered, his voice a bare whisper in the corridor. He turned with a grim look on his face, to find both guards looking at him warily.
“Oh for God’s sake, you can’t tell me we can cover this up anymore!” he snapped and moved forwards to undo the spelled manacles himself. “Go find the Queens Guard, hell the Queen herself if you can and bring them back here.”
Feral eased the bruised skin over his wrists as the two guards disappeared down the corridor like Ferrets down a rabbit hole. The small marks, like the other cuts and bruises he collected during the fight in the hall, would soon fade. A perk of his Kyn physiology.
He eyed Talven, accepting his blades back from the Fae’s outstretched hand. “So, what made you decide to grow a pair?” Feral leaned against the wall for support as he slid them over his knuckles. His Kyn body might have been able to heal itself faster than other species but it came at a price. Energy. He and the other Warriors burned through enough energy to power a small city block and needed to feed daily. Trouble was Feral was going on two days now without and it was beginning to show.
Talven shrugged, busying himself with his own sword hilt. “I can’t bury my head in the sand anymore. You’re right, someone has to stop her. We have to stop her.” He looked up, the misery in his blue eyes really making Feral feel for the poor bastard.
“You love her don’t you?”
Talven nodded, then laughed bitterly. “Yes and no. I used to be but she was someone different back then,” he shrugged and admitted. “I guess I never got out of the habit.”
The Kyn nodded. He knew all about unrequited love from his semi-obsession with Vixen.
“Hey, you ok? You look sort of pale there,” Talven asked suddenly, noting the way the Vampire was leaning against the wall. A careful posture, one that Talven recognised. A posture designed to hide just how shit its owner was feeling.
Feral shook his head but Talven carried on. “You need blood don’t you?” he guessed, Feral’s wary look telling him he’d hit the nail on the head.
Feral sighed and nodded. There was no point in denying it anymore and Talven had released him, so in Feral’s mind that meant he could trust the Fae. At least a little.
“Been too busy running from our little Pixie friends and I wasn’t going to feed from Tessa. She was already exhausted,” he said, “Let’s just say other donors have been in short supply recently.”
“Can you metabolise Fae blood?” The Knight demanded as he started to strip off his neck guard.
“I can but I can’t feed from you man, you’re going to need all your strength when we go back in there. We can’t wait for backup. I’ll be fine,” Feral insisted and pushed himself upright with the aid of the wall, “We need to move and now!”
Talven stopped him as he turned, intent on heading back up the corridor and storming the hall alone if he had to.
“We need you at full strength,” The Fae argued, his blue eyes direct. “Think about it, Ilia knows every trick I’ve got. She’s watched me train for years. Nothing I do is going to surprise her. But you, you’re the unknown quantity. She’s going to have no idea what moves you’re going to pull next…” he trailed off for a moment, emotions flitting across his face.
Regret, resignation, despair…
“If we win, I won’t be able to kill her,” he admitted. “We need you at full strength, you have to kill her.”
Feral looked at him with admiration. There wasn’t much he could say to that. He nodded and clapped his hand on the other guy’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. A gesture of understanding and solidarity. “Cover your neck man, I can’t take blood from you there,”
Talven paused, confusion on his face.
“Taking from the neck is…” The Kyn paused, looking for the right words. “It’s too personal. Part of our courtship rituals,” he explained. “And sorry mate, I just don’t swing that way! Give me your wrist instead,”
“Oh thank god! No, I don’t either,” Talven’s pale skin flushed scarlet as he extended his arm, visibly grateful he didn’t have to offer the Vampire his neck.
Feral grasped the offered wrist in a no nonsense grip, his fangs aching to descend, dropped down ready for feeding. He ignored the need for a moment. He needed to warn Talven first and a mouth full of fang tended to make speaking a little difficult.
“This is going to hurt,” he said, knowing there really wasn’t any other way. Well, there was but he wasn’t going to embarrass either of them by going down that route.
“I thought Vampires could dull the pain?” The Fae asked, quickly adding, “Not that a little pain bothers me, just curious.”
Feral’s lips quirked, recognising the typical male cover up as he pushed the fabric back from Talven’s wrist, bending the hand back to reveal the tender flesh on the inside.
Veins beat strongly, just visible under the skin. Feral’s mouth watered, an instinctive reaction to the source of sustenance so close.
“We can but back to the neck point, it’s all about sex. I’d explain further but I don’t think either of us needs those visuals,” he commented, his thumb sweeping over the skin as he picked his spot. “I’ll make this as quick as possible,” he said, and struck.
He moaned as his fangs pierced the skin, sinking through the barrier with the ease of a hot knife going through butter. Blood, hot sweet tasting blood, filled his mouth in a rush. He swallowed, the powerful muscles of his throat worked strongly. Relief filled him, the blood hit his system like a bullet.
Strength surged through him, eased the weariness in his limbs, making him feel as though he had about a week’s sleep and several good meals all rolled into one. The power in it, the magic that all Fae carried within themselves, headed straight for his head like a good shot of vodka.
Feeling Talven’s arm start to tremble Feral carefully withdrew his fangs, mindful that the Fae’s mind wasn’t clouded and he could feel all of this. He paused, a quick pass of his tongue stopped the bleeding and sealed the broken flesh.
Talven sighed in relief, pulled his arm back against his body and rubbing the abused skin. “Ok,” he laughed shakily, “You were right, that really hurt!”
Oh god, this couldn’t be happening. Tessa watched helplessly as Feral was dragged away, held motionless by the cruel grip around her jaw. Then she remembered she had a voice, yelling and screaming for all she was worth, trying to get someone’s attention. Her rebellion was short live, Ilia increased the pressure on her throat until Tessa saw stars.
“Shut. Up,” The corrupt princess hissed in her ear. “The place is spelled, no one can hear you. And you’re giving me a headache,”
Tess sank to her knees as Ilia released her, gasping for breath as she smoothed her hand over her throat, still able to feel the imprint of Ilia’s hand clamped there.
“Get her on the table with the brat,” The Fae Princess ordered, voice hard as she sauntered towards a cloth covered table in the middle of the hall, flicking the fabric off and letting it flutter unheeded to the floor. Covered with the cloth the table had been innocuous enough but now, uncovered, the feelings that rose from it were vile enough to turn Tessa’s stomach.
Lust, terror, greed, and excitement. All rose from it in a cacophony of emotion that was overwhelming, even for a part Fae like Tessa. And if she felt ill, her human half adding an insensitive shield, then she had no clue how the full blooded Fae were dealing with it. A quick glance at the nearest one, a Fae in the full armour of one of Ilia’s knights revealed a clenched jaw and hollow eyes as he looked down at her. Tessa shivered. No help there then.
Ilia though, seemed unaffected. Or worse, she actually seemed to be revelling in the dark emotions as they rose from the table. Her slender hand smoothed across the darkly stained surface in a caress. Dark stains Tessa didn’t need a Vampire’s affinity with blood to recognise.
<
br /> People had died on that table. People would die on that table, her and Spud amongst them.
“Nooo! NO!” she screamed as hard hands reached for her, but it was no use. Several minutes later and she was bundled onto the bloodstained surface, all her struggles counted for nothing against the strength of Ilia’s hollow eyed guards.
“You can’t do this, he’s just a baby! What kind of sick bitch are you?” Tessa demanded, struggling as the straps were tightened over her wrists and thighs. She watched helplessly as they brought Spud over, laid him down next to her. His terrified whimpers eased as he recognised her scent, calming down as he was near someone he trusted.
“Shut up and behave, or it’ll go harder on you,” Ilia’s eyes flashed fire as she started to unroll a scroll.
Tessa laughed, the sound rolled around the cavernous hall. “Behave or it’ll go harder on me? Oh, that’s a good one” Tessa laughed, scorn in her eyes. “So… you gotta tell me. Just how this is gonna get harder on me? You’re gonna bloody kill me! It’s doesn’t get much bloody harder than that you stupid bitch!”
Ilia’s eyes narrowed as anger flashed in their depths. “You’ll pay for that, really pay for that. No one insults me in my own hall. I’ll make you suffer and your flesh will taste all the sweeter,”
“I hope I give you fucking food poisoning!” Tessa spat and threw her weight against her bonds again. They were so tight she was already beginning to lose the feeling in her legs.
Which could be a blessing or a curse depending on which way you looked at it. She closed her eyes for a moment, really hoped this was just a bad dream and any moment now she’d wake up on the couch in her sister’s apartment.
Tears welled in her eyes, one slid from beneath her lashes to blaze a hot trail down the side of her face. It was hopeless, despair flooded her. She couldn’t even save herself, much less help Spud.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, shifting in her bonds to look at him lying next to her. In the background Ilia began to chant; dark, guttural words that struck fear into Tessa’s heart.