This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 Turnit Publishing LLC
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First edition
ebook ISBN: 978-1-7351765-0-5
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To the guy by my side through it all.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Review, Please
A word from Kimberly
Chapter One
They attacked us the instant we entered the abandoned barn. Shadowed figures emerged from the poorly lit corners. A particularly large one jumped from the loft to land in front of Ian.
“Hello, old chap,” he said before punching him in the stomach.
Ian doubled over as it knocked the wind out of him. It took only a second, but that was enough time for the guy to grab him and hold a knife to his throat.
Two others came at me. I threw two of my knives into their hearts, killing them instantly, and clearing a path to Ian.
“Let him go,” I demanded.
“Oh, the wittle girl wants me to let him go. All right, let’s make a deal. I’ll take you instead. How ‘bout that?”
“How ‘bout you let him go and I’ll show you what this ‘wittle girl’ can do? Or are you too scared to fight someone half your size?”
Before he could respond, someone slammed into me from behind, knocking me forward. I glanced around to see Sheryl, a member of my clan, wrestling a tall female.
This brief distraction cost me. Ian’s captor tossed him aside and grabbed me. He was so fast I never saw it coming.
He ran out of the barn with me flung over his shoulder. I struggled, but it was no use. I could only watch as his buddies swarmed my clan.
He threw me into the trunk of a car and ripped off my knife belt.
“You won’t be needing these anymore.” He slammed the trunk in my face, plunging me into darkness.
That really pissed me off. Those were my favorite knives. “If anything happens to those knives, you’ll be sorry!” I yelled. I heard him chuckle as the car began to move.
The trunk was completely black, not even a sliver of light. It smelled of stale sweat and old fear. There had been others in the trunk before me. I didn’t want to think about what had happened to them. I ran my hands around the space. I felt nothing but a smooth surface. They’d modified it to remove the release lever, along with any other chance of reaching the outside.
There were some occasions when my short stature came in handy. This was one of them. I was able to bend sideways and reach the knives hidden in my boots. I tried stabbing through the trunk, but my knife hit a solid surface. They’d reinforced it, and the impact reverberated up my arm, making me hiss in pain.
The car soon came to a stop, and I heard muffled voices. We hadn’t traveled far, which was good… I hoped. I held my knives and braced to come out swinging. The trunk opened, and I lashed out, stabbing my abductor in the hand. The faeritonium from the blade would burn as if I had set his hand on fire. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would make him mighty uncomfortable for as long as it took to heal.
Letting out a howl of pain, he pulled his hand to his chest. “Dammit! You’ll pay for that.”
You can stab a banshee with steel, or even silver, all you want; they’ll simply kill you before you can blink. Faeritonium, however, does the job just fine. Only problem being that to kill them, it needs to puncture their heart.
I wasn’t in position for a killing blow, so I had to hope the hand wound gave me enough time to get out of the damned trunk.
No such luck. An even larger banshee replaced the wounded one. The ogre leaned over with a blank expression on his face that hinted more at a lack of intelligence than a lack of enthusiasm. His big meaty fist rose high and bashed me in the head with blinding speed, knocking me out.
When I came to, excruciating pain and intense nausea greeted me. The ogre had given me a concussion; that was obvious. Though, what wasn’t obvious was why I hadn’t healed.
Someone had chained my hands to the cot on which I was lying. The power humming through the restraints and my lack of healing told me they’d enchanted them with an aura-stifling spell.
I looked for clues as to where I was and any way out. The thick cement block walls were unpainted and stained from past floods. Thanks to the lack of ventilation, the air was thick with the smell of mildew, causing me to gag with each breath. The harsh fluorescent lights teamed with the little men banging the inside of my skull, causing ever-increasing waves of nausea.
They’d trapped me in a storage unit, and there was no breaking free from the shackles. One of Gabriel’s goons would eventually come for me. They hadn’t chained me up here just to die. That wasn’t their way. They’d want to make a profit off me. I’d have to do my best to fight my way free before they had that chance.
So, saving what little energy I had, I rested my head on the cot to wait. It wasn’t long before I heard tires crunching over the gravel outside the door — the only way out of this oven. As the door began to roll-up, I slumped my head and feigned unconsciousness.
“She’s still out,” said a deep voice.
A female voice followed that. “Maybe little Miss. Qadira Quinn isn’t as tough as the rumors say.”
Rumors? There are rumors about me? I didn’t think anyone knew who I was, other than one of Ian’s Hunters. I didn’t know whether to be honored or insulted.
“We gotta get her into the car, so this should make it easy,” said the male as he started unlocking the cuffs around my ankles.
“Work fast, I don’t want to deal with her if she wakes up,” the female replied as she set to work on my wrists. After releasing me from the bed, she recuffed my hands behind my back. “Hurry, let’s get her in the trunk.”
Trunk? Hell no, I was not getting back in that trunk. That was insulting, for sure.
“Jilda, we doing this or what?” said a third voice. A voice I knew all too well.
“Sheryl?” I hissed, startling the two banshees standing next to me. Recovering from her shock, Jilda tightened her grip on my arm.
“You double-crossing bitch!” I growled at Sheryl.
“Oh, shut up. You’re coming with me.” She widened her eyes.
The male ba
nshee left the room, presumably to get the trunk ready for my transport. I took a moment to size up the situation. Having sparred with her many times, I knew I could hold my own against Sheryl. But the other woman? I wasn’t so sure. From the power emanating from her, she was older than Sheryl, which meant she should be stronger than her.
“I am so not getting back into a trunk.” Testing the other woman’s strength, I jerked forward. This jostled her, but her grip never loosened. Still, moving her even a little gave me hope.
“If you’re a good girl, you can ride in the backseat.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m going anywhere with any of you. Where do you think you’re taking me, anyway?” I never in a million years expected her to answer me, so it shocked the hell out of me when she did.
“Gabriel wants the pleasure of meeting you.” She did the weird eye thing again. She was trying to tell me something… but what? I didn’t know. I only knew I wasn’t going anywhere with a double-crosser.
“Hmm, as exciting as that sounds, I’ll have to take a rain check. ‘Kay?” I gave her the biggest smile I could muster as I clenched my teeth and pulled forward again, harder this time, and freed myself from the older banshee.
“Ha!” I cheered, unable to help myself.
Before she could grab me again, I spun to face her and shuffled backwards to keep her, and the door, in sight. Her short, ebony hair was a shade or two darker than her flawless skin. Her well-toned, lithe body looked dancer-esque. It always surprised me that the ‘bad’ banshees were so good-looking. They should be as hideous as the baddies in fairytales, but nope, they are mostly gorgeous. Makes it way easier to approach their mortal meals.
“P.J.!” The female banshee shrieked.
I tilted my head to the side a little, confused as to why she’d yell such a thing. It was soon clear that ‘P.J.’ was the name of the ogre from earlier when he came rushing in to see what the trouble was.
“What’s up, Jilda?”
P.J. looked over to me. I smiled prettily and gave a little shrug.
“Hi P.J.!”
“Um, ma’am,” Ma’am? Really? “I need you to get in the car so we can take you to the boss. Uh, please.”
Good ol’ P.J., so polite when he wasn’t breaking my skull. “Well, since you said ‘please’,” I watched P.J.’s lips turn up in a smile. “Yeah, um, I’m gonna give ya a big fat no on that one.”
He ran a hand over his bald head in confusion. “But you have no choice. You can’t fight without your hands.”
“You know, Peeg, I have to say I disagree with you.”
He grunted when I kicked him in the gut.
“I still have my legs.” I spun to gain momentum before landing a kick to his head. The blow threw him into the wall, but otherwise it didn’t do much to faze him.
P.J. and Jilda stalked their way toward me. There was nothing I could do but fight the best I could with just my legs. If I was going down, I was going down fighting.
“Dammit, Kadi! Why do you have to ruin everything?” Sheryl said, and to my utter shock she stabbed P.J., killing him within a foot of me. I watched as his body began to crumble and had the happy thought I didn’t have to clean up after this. Banshee dust is a bitch.
“What the hell? I will kill you!” Jilda screeched at Sheryl.
“No, I do not think you will,” said another familiar voice.
I turned to face the speaker. “Ian?” How did he know where we are?
He stood in the doorway, his focus on Jilda and the knives she’d pulled from her boots. In shock, I barely felt the tug on my arms as Sheryl uncuffed me. As soon as they were off, I felt my aura expand. My wounds healed, and my energy returned. I was free to move, yet I could do nothing but stand there watching Ian and Jilda move in a slow circle, neither one of them taking their eyes off the other.
Jilda lunged for Ian. I sucked in a breath, holding it even as Ian avoided her by crouching low and spinning on one foot as he swiped her feet from under her. Jilda bounced back and went at Ian again.
As Jilda ran at him, Ian fell to the ground and rolled away from her. She turned to keep him in sight. This had her facing away from me giving me an idea.
I grabbed the knife from Sheryl’s belt, snuck up behind Jilda and stabbed her through her heart. As her body turned to dust, I threw the knife back to Sheryl.
“Thanks, now tell me what the hell is happening. Why were you with Jilda and the ogre? And how did you know where we were?” I directed this last question toward Ian.
“We need to find Gabriel’s home base,” Sheryl said, offering no further explanation.
“Explain more. Now.”
“Gabriel has suspicions about your bloodline.” Ian responded this time, referring to my half-mortal, half-fairy lineage, which only the members of my clan were supposed to know.
“How is that possible? And that doesn’t explain blondie being with Jilda or you knowing where we were.”
“Stop calling me ‘blondie’. As Ian said, Gabriel only has suspicions. We figured if we let them take you to him, we could follow, find out where he is, and take him out. Only problem is, Jilda is… was the only one who knew where their HQ is. So, they used this place to hold you until Jilda could come get you. And you screwed up our plan.”
“Maybe if you had told me the plan, I could have gone along with it.”
“I instructed her not to tell you.”
“Ah, I see.”
“You are angry.”
“No, Ian, I’m not angry.” I smiled as I made my way to stand in front of him and punch him in the gut. “Angry doesn’t even begin to explain how I feel.”
Once he recovered his breath, he closed the distance between us again.
“I deserved that one… only that one. Understood?”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that. Where are my knives?”
Sheryl moved to her Ducati and took my knife belt out of the rear compartment. She tossed it to me. I caught it and examined my knives for any damage. I had lost a couple of my throwing knives, but my karambit was in its place. Most importantly, the puukko-style knives my uncle had given me were still there. They were not only my main weapon of choice — better suited for stabbing banshee hearts than the karambit — but they were the most beautiful with carvings of phoenixes on the handles. Other than needing a good cleaning, they were fine.
After ending the phone call, Ian turned back to us. “Sheryl, head back to HQ. “The sweepers will be here soon. I will take one of their vehicles when I am done here.”
The sweepers would get rid of any evidence of us ever being here and check for any mortal captives Gabriel’s gang may be holding here.
“Kadi, you want to ride back with me?”
“No, thanks. I’ll hang back with Ian.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, okay.”
I turned back to Ian to see him smirking.
“What?”
“Seems you may be making a friend.”
“Not likely. Why was she working with Gabriel? She isn’t a Scout.”
“It is not what you are thinking. She is not a traitor. I asked her to infiltrate the gang to obtain information for us. The more moles we have, the more likely we are to get the information we need. Though, after tonight, it will be impossible for her to continue”
“And you were okay with risking her life that way?”
“Greater good,” he responded with a shrug.
“Ah, yes, the ‘greater good’. I assume that’s your excuse for deceiving me?”
He grunted in response.
The sweeper crew arrived then, preventing any further conversation. Ian spoke to one of the crew for a moment before moving to one of the SUV’s. He motioned for me to get in on the passenger’s side. We drove in silence for a while until I could no longer stay quiet.
“I do not appreciate you sending me into a trap without my knowledge. Do it again and I will kill you.” Or try, at least.
“Not to me. My life was in danger without my knowledge. That is a tad extreme to me! You had no right.”
“You signed up for this, Goldie. You knew—”
“You do not get to call me that right now, and yes, I know I signed up to be a Hunter. I did not sign up to be an unwitting pawn. I am always willing if I am in on it. What you did was wrong, Ian.”
“I disagree.”
“You are infuriating. You say banshees don’t have the same emotions as mortals — or half-mortals — but you must have the ability to understand them… even a little. I trust you with my life and you repay me by lying to me? That was too far, can’t you see that?”
“Okay, yes, I believe I can. However, I will not apologize for my decision.”
“You can be such a bastard. If I’d known the plan, I could have played along with it.”
He didn’t respond. Neither of us spoke again for the rest of the ride.
Chapter Two
When we got back to HQ, I sunk into my Uncle Bryce’s embrace. He kissed the top of my head; his beard tickled my forehead. “Oh, my pip, I’ve been so worried. Are you okay? Are you hungry?”
“I’m okay. Had a rough night. I just want to go to bed.”
“Go on, I’ll bring you tea in a few moments.”
I scowled, and he laughed. Bryce’s “tea” is an ancient fairy herbal concoction that smells and tastes like dung. Putrid aroma and taste aside, it healed most wounds and restored auras like a charm. Which is probably because of an actual charm worked into the recipe. Bryce excels in the art of magic, something I did not inherit.
As I headed up the stairs, I heard Ian and Bryce talking. While his words were indecipherable, Bryce’s tone made it clear he was not happy with Ian. Give him hell, Bryce.
In my room, I opened the French doors that led to the balcony overlooking the generous backyard. In the cooler months I enjoy sleeping with them open, but even with the humidity, the fresh air was welcome. I turned back to the room, letting my eyes roam. On the sage-green walls hung paintings depicting forests filled with fairies and various woodland creatures. The antique oak furnishings were family heirlooms from my mother’s side, the Fey side. I could still feel the centuries-old remnants of the previous owner’s spells. A bit of safety wards, a dash of good health incantations, and a smidgen of beauty charms.
Becoming Banshee Page 1