Elusion (Facets of Feyrie Book 1)

by Zoe Parker

  Well, that’s done.

  Long claws slice through the air where I was standing seconds before. Without hesitation, I turn and punch the owner of those claws so hard in the chest it concaves. He falls to the ground screaming. I duck to avoid the next set of claws and then knives appear in my hands.

  Well, shit. I didn’t know I could do that. Twirling them around in admiration, I turn back to the shifters. This next part is going to be fun. Twisting at the waist, I feel the knives sink into flesh and easily cut clear. Surgically sharp and one hundred percent Dark.

  Oh, this is so awesome.

  The smell of their shift only makes me laugh out loud in joy. A sidestep and I avoid another clawed hand, and then he’s dead too. A knife to the neck will do that to them.

  In the end, it’s over rather quickly. I expected more but discovered that these shifters in this world aren’t fighters. No skills at all, I can recognize someone without them now. They rely on their strength and above-human speed to protect them. From humans, it will.

  I’m not human. God, it feels good to know that.

  I straighten, covered in shifter blood, and meet the green eyes of Ryan the Beta. He hasn’t moved from where he was standing before I killed his buddies.

  “Why didn’t you help them, Ryan?” I’m curious enough to ask and see if he tells me the truth.

  “I have no idea. But my wolf denied me.”

  I know. Known from the moment I saw him. There is no getting away from this Dark Magiks shit sometimes.

  “Did your Alpha accept the payment of the girl?”

  He nods at my question.

  “Did you agree with it?”

  “There is no agreeing or disagreeing with the Alpha. I am Beta, I do as I’m told.” His answer sounds like a well-rehearsed speech.

  One he uses to convince himself.

  “Even if you know it’s wrong?”

  “I have no choice. I am bound to the Alpha.”

  Well, I can have a peek at that. A tendril of my power wraps around the link connecting him to his Alpha and scrutinizes it. A blood bond. I can’t break it without likely killing him.

  “Come on, you’re coming with me.” I wave towards the house.

  He can listen or he can die. It’s that simple.

  “But I have to let my pack know what has happened,” he says.

  His back stiffens and he raises his chin in self-importance.

  As if I will let him do any such thing.

  My eyes pin him to the spot. “You will be able to do that soon enough.” It comes out more a growl than a sentence, but it has the correct effect.

  He scampers in behind me.

  As we walk through the house, I look around for Ruthie’s room. Some part of me knows the girl probably has something here she will want. I find it in the basement. A small room that faintly resembles the cell I previously lived in.

  A dirty worn out bed with clean sheets on it takes up the corner. Made neatly. In fact, everything is neat. What there is of it. Ruthie doesn’t have a lot. Grabbing a bag off the floor, I look for things in places girls will hide them.

  I start in between the mattresses.

  In the dresser, I find pictures of a woman, I assume Ruthie’s mother, and I shove those in the bag. What clothes I find go in there, too. Pretty much everything Ruthie owns goes into the bag.

  Well, I can fix that. I like to shop, it’s the dragon in me.

  “Out there you looked different. Now you just look human. I’ve never seen a shifter do that before.”

  Oh, I forgot about him.

  I remain silent.

  “Did you guys clean up my mess outside?” I ask the Fiends around me. I feel their answer, sending my silent thank you.

  “Who are you talking to?” Ryan is a talkative fella.

  It’s annoying.

  I continue to ignore him and walk up the stairs two at a time. Once outside, I stop right before we get to the car and turn to him.

  “I have a fragile girl in that car. If you make one move that scares her, I will make you into a rug, is that clear?” He nods then his eyes drop to the ground.

  Submission looks good on him.

  Fifty-Three

  Iza

  “Where are we going?” Ryan’s hand catches my arm at his question.

  I look down at it. I don’t like being touched. There are times it isn’t bad, with kids or my Fiends, my Dad or—Phobe, but any other time and I’m not keen on it. Corn-fed in the car learned that the hard way.

  If Ryan isn’t careful, he’s going to learn the hard way, too.

  I stare at his hand until he removes it and answer, “To your Alpha. He and I need to have a talk.”

  A serious talk. With one of us bleeding from somewhere, kind of talk.

  “She. The Alpha is a she.” I shake my head at his correction.

  Feyrie Women, even half-breeds, should be strong. They should be fighters. They should be caretakers and protectors too. Instead, most of the ones I’ve met are flat out rabid bitches that need put down. They should be like my mother Nisha. A warrior who did everything she could to protect her child.

  A pang somewhere in my chest causes me to pause. I press my hand to it briefly and continue.

  Ruthie jumps out of the car, her fear stark in her eyes when she sees Ryan.

  “He won’t hurt you, Ruthie. I promise,” I reassure her, lifting the bag into her view.

  Ruthie drags her eyes from him and meets mine. “You’re covered in blood.”

  I smile at her observation and show Ruthie all my sharp teeth. “It isn’t mine.” I get the reaction I want and am slightly surprised by.

  Ruthie smiles.

  I hand her the bag. Ruthie might not be the type to bring a souvenir to but she’s still of the Dark.

  “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I brought it all,” I half joke, trying to give a reassuring smile.

  Those sad eyes brim with tears. I find myself hugged before I can move. For two heartbeats, I just stand there stunned and slowly I hug Ruthie back. It feels good, it feels right.

  Different, but right.

  “Okay let’s go,” I say, easing back from Ruthie. I wave a hand towards the back seat and Ryan opens the door and freezes. “What?” I ask, looking at the shifter inside to make sure he’s still out.

  “That’s the Alphas son, Marcus.” Ryan sounds so scared about it.

  I don’t really care.

  “So?” The bastard had Ruthie in the trunk of his car. His identity isn’t important. A dirtbag is a dirtbag.

  “They’ll kill you for that.”

  This time, I show him with my middle finger how concerned I am about them killing me.

  A chill runs down my spine. The good kind. Sergean is here. Wait, Dad…yes, Dad. I have no idea why I still get nervous and sputter all over about what to call him.

  “Doubtful.” The male voice startles them all, except me, I wave at him.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hello, Dove.” He smiles at me, his happiness shining in his black eyes. I know that I’ve got a goofy grin to match on my face.

  I love my Dad.

  He crosses to me and runs a finger down the blood on my face and his smile broadens. “I got your presents. I figured a visit was in order.”

  Their afterlife won’t be a picnic that’s for sure.

  He kisses my forehead, despite the blood on me, and tucks me under his arm, turning to face the others. It makes me feel special. This is a good feeling to have.

  “I see why you want to keep those two.” I smile ruefully at his words. He would see, damn mind reader. His smile turns into a chuckle. His face loses its smile and he turns a serious gaze onto the Beta, Ryan. “Now why is he still breathing?” I look up at the face of my father so like my own and let him hear what I think about that.

  Ryan has shit to make up for.

  Dad looks back down at me. “Makes sense.” he muses.

  “Need a ride?” he asks, turning to show me
the black Humvee parked behind him.

  Lots more room in that than the beat-up car we have, with a trunk that is flopping open.

  I don’t ask how he got it here.

  “Grab blondie, beta boy, we’re going on a road trip,” I say, turning to my father. “You coming to play, too?”

  He winks down at me. “I can drive you to the party, how about that?”

  Laughing, I climb in the front of the truck.

  A quick trip through the drive-through replaces the calories I need. And feeds two hungry teenagers—well for the most part. Magiks always have a cost. In my case, it comes from my body.

  For Ryan, I get nothing. He hasn’t earned that yet.

  Ryan provides us directions, reluctantly, and we drive directly to the small town that’s completely inhabited by shifters.

  As we drive through downtown, what there is of it, shifters step out of the beat-up buildings onto the sidewalks. Their eyes on the vehicle.

  They don’t get visitors here that often. They don’t like them, either. Boy, am I going to make them dislike them more. I’d be a liar if I say I’m not looking forward to kicking someone’s ass again.

  I thrive in carnage—it’s something I admitted to myself a long time ago. I am what I am.

  Oddly enough, the mix of Dark and Light marks isn’t even. Children are few but there are some. Strangely, those few children are dormant Darks. That’s unusual. When the parents are from the Light side of the gene pool, the children are Light Marked.

  Something’s wrong here

  “Almost like the fates are trying to tell you something, eh Dove?”

  I glance over at Dad and sigh.

  “How will they feel about what I’m about to do?”

  I don’t want to hurt these children in any way, and there is a chance I will be killing some of their parents tonight. Which, in turn, might hurt them.

  “I don’t think they will mind. Look around you, really look.” So, I do. And what I see makes the temperature in the car drop several degrees.

  The children are all in the same spot, all except one. All afraid. All of them disconnected from the adult shifters around them.

  “These aren’t their children, are they?” I turn to Ryan as I ask. He has the decency to look ashamed.

  “They can’t seem to breed. So, they take over other packs. Most of the adults are killed fairly quickly, the children kept for…other things.”

  Other things? Is he saying what I think he is?

  “And you participated in this?” Knowing the answer even as I ask the question. I want to hear him admit it, see the answer on his face.

  “I was one of those children. What else am I supposed to do?” His eyes fill with anger as he answers.

  I stare at him a moment, really stare at him. I can understand surviving, I can.

  But I won’t forget how he chose to. And neither will he.

  “When they hit a certain age, she uses a blood bond to bind them to her. She has some wizard she keeps here to perform the bindings.” That is more information than I expected but that’s my Magiks at work. I might not be able to influence a human or a Light Fey. But the Dark is all mine.

  The alpha has a pocket Schoth. A prisoner or a conspirator? Either way, it doesn’t matter I’m still going to do what I came here to do.

  Now with a lot more pleasure.

  “You like her?” I ask him nonchalantly.

  “Like who?” He knows exactly who I’m asking about.

  “The Alpha.”

  His lips thin and he stares out the window. Watching him, seeing the answers in the expression he is trying so hard to school, I shake my head.

  “You loved her. That was stupid, wasn’t it?” Sarcasm drips in my voice. I’m not trying to sound anything but.

  “I don’t need some stranger reminding me of my shortcomings, thanks,” he bites out.

  I consider smacking him upside the head but at the last-minute, change my mind. It won’t hurt nearly as much as the guilt swirling around inside of him. I really do understand the need to survive. But I bet some of the things he did wasn’t to survive at all. They were done for the ‘love’ he had for that Alpha bitch.

  Which I can’t help but hold against him, Dark Mark or not.

  “It will take a long time to make up for it. A lifetime, really. You’re stupid to have let a vagina convince you to go against your very nature. How did that turn out for you?” I snark.

  When the ‘love of his life’ replaced him. Because she did, I bet money on it.

  With a growl of rage, he lashes out at me. I twist in my seat and catch his fist, pushing back. Leaning just far enough between the seats to put my face close to his.

  “We all have to face our mistakes, Ryan. It’s time for you to face yours.” I let go, and he sits back, shoulders slumping.

  “What could you know about anything I went through, you pampered twit? I survived. That’s what should matter.”

  The Humvee comes to a tire-screeching halt. Dad turns slightly in his seat to look at the shifter. I watch from beside him, not sure of what is coming.

  But incredibly curious about it.

  “She managed to survive things that would make you piss your pants, you watered down dog. And she did it with only costs to herself. Do not think to judge her. Ever. Or I will send you to the land of Death myself and make you suffer everything that happened to her. You live at her wish only.” How Dad manages to sound so menacing without raising his voice, I will never know. Speaking like he’s talking about the weather instead of telling Ryan he can kill him at any second.

  I know another who can do that. An ache goes through my stomach. I shove it down. Now is not the time to think about blue skin and sharp teeth.

  Ryan’s words don’t offend me at all; he doesn’t know me, probably never will. But my father is offended on my behalf. I can’t help but smile. Dad turns part way towards me and meets my gaze.

  “You protect them too much. They do not see you as you are, so they do not act accordingly,” he states and then clears his throat. He starts driving again, his dark eyes on the road.

  “I love you too, Dad,” I whisper for his ears alone.

  “What the hell are you two?” Ryan demands, fear bleeding through his words.

  A Fiend appears directly in front of Ryan. Its red eyes meet his as it lets out an eerie howl displaying two rows of razor-sharp teeth. It disappears as quickly as it appeared. His face pales, and he turns to stare back out the window. I wink at Ruthie and Michael, whose mouths are both hanging open.

  As we park, I look once more at Ryan in the back seat. Knowing, without a shred of doubt, I’m gonna want his head on a stick before the evening is over. Taking in a bracing breath, I open the door and hop out of the truck.

  Dad comes over to my side and hugs me tightly. “Be careful in there, Dove. Duty calls.” It always does.

  I try not to feel bitter about it. Really hard. I succeed, sometimes.

  A sad look at me, and he’s gone.

  Cracking my knuckles, I grab the unconscious shifter out of the backseat and drag him behind me while walking towards the door to what was once a movie theater. It’s time to start the party.

  Fifty-Four

  Iza

  Almost struck blind by the color vomit of the room, I look around at the gaudy, eye-watering colors, a little sick to my stomach. It’s like walking into a 70’s horror flick. Bright gauzy fabric hangs all about the room. A four-poster bed with the same fabric takes up a corner and most of the shifters are lying around on the various pieces of ugly furniture spread throughout the room.

  That’s a good way to maintain the theme.

  They’re also wearing pleather. Pleather. Not the cool leather type but the shiny one that you use Vaseline to slide into. My lip curls in distaste. I’m not much for fashion but, god, do they have to be so cliché?

  “Who in the hell are you?” The demand comes from a gilded, golden chair sitting in the middle of it all.


  Seriously, a throne? I turn to look at the owner of the voice and right away can only see one thing. Boobs. Just out in the open. Big fake boobs.

  Huge boobs.

  “Boobs” I mutter. Michael snorts and looks away from me to hide his smile.

  “Ryan, why have you brought meat to my parlor?” I ignore her once I can tear my gaze away from the sight that can’t be unseen.

  I toss the unconscious shifter at Ryan’s feet. Let him deal with it. I’m looking for something. Or someone, really. The Schoth that I can smell but can’t see, yet.

  Ah, there he is.

  With just a little effort I pierce through his illusions to the man underneath. He dresses as gaudily as everyone else here. Well, now I know where the Alpha gets her fashion sense. Schoth have none. Arick is, was, a prime testament to that.

  Lifting my hand, I wiggle my fingers in greeting to him. The look on his face is almost enough to make me laugh out loud. The Schoth has Light Magiks, but they aren’t strong enough to be a threat.

  Not this time.

  “Why is my son unconscious?” The way the Alpha asks is just so…casual. So, motherly instincts aren’t the Boobs’ strong suit.

  “My liege, this is-” Ryan clears his throat. He has no idea what to call me and so he looks for rescue. I shrug. “-Honestly, I don’t know who she is but she insisted on meeting you,” he gives in and answers.

  “Love what you’ve done with the place,” I comment, wandering to my right to pick up a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs. I eye them, a little grossed out at their purpose, and toss them at one of the shifters staring at me from the velvet chair I lifted them from.

  Subconsciously, my feet shuffle to the right. Well, this is interesting. Something is tugging at me.

  “So, I’ve come for the children. If you give them to me, I’ll make the damage minimal.” If one calls ‘all dead’ minimal.

  The Alpha laughs, more like cackles, and looks to the Schoth who steps forward, pale-faced. He and I both know I shouldn’t be able to see him. And the fact that I can, makes him nervous.

  “Who are you to threaten me at all, meat? I am the Alpha here. My word is-”