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Riding Tempest
By
Sascha Illyvich
The bright flame in your eyes made me keep going toward the end of this year, and you pulled me out of a deep, dark place, Lover Mine. I’m so proud of you, and of us. Even through your pain, you kept pushing me, silently, to make this the best story I could. Thank you. I love you.
Acknowledgments
Katie Sparkles, you are my light. my Patreon people: Kathy Swords, Christine Ashworth, Kerry Adrienne, Stella Price, Amanda, Jean Carmichael, Beth, Ana D, I’m glad and grateful for your support. It’s eased my burden slightly and made it possible for me to see the light better. Max, thanks for the help. My beta readers, Kelsey, Kerry, Christine, Sonya Wildcat. Kelly Langford, Honoria. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Your help, support in any and all capacities is greatly appreciated. My neighbors Thor, Craig, my bartenders of awesome at Highland Cigar Company (Chai, Amber, Nikki, Cliff, Morgen), my friends at Highland, Rukia at Got Cigars? in Decatur, Stacey (mermaid wolf), you’ve all sat with me at various points for either emotional support as I wound the year down while trying to finish this, or been present and chatted with me while I wrote this novel. I know I’m forgetting people and I apologize.
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Chapter 1
You’re all set then. Leave in the morning and don’t be late to your destination. It must go across the realm and, once delivered and inspected, you’ll be compensated. Guns in the bag at your feet should help you if you are attacked.”
Tempest blinked.
The expediter huffed. “You do understand this cargo cannot, under any circumstances, fall prey to anyone outside of the Faery Court, yes?”
Tempest nodded, eyeing the Fae with suspicion. He picked up a clipboard and made some notes before handing it to her.
“Signing this signals your allegiance to the Court, and your bond to deliver the cargo on time, undamaged, or face the penalty.”
Taking the clipboard from the rotund Fae, she jotted down a fake name used for hauling things like this, then handed the clipboard back to the supervisor.
“Don’t say much, do ya?”
“I never bother wasting words when action will suffice.”
He cocked his head slightly. “Not replying is not an action.”
“Even inaction is movement.” She hauled the duffle full of guns over one shoulder with an oomph, then turned and walked back toward her rig.
Her truck was the standard eighteen-wheeler in midnight blue, complete with sleeper cabin and enough supplies that she would only have to stop every so often, mainly for fuel and food, but it’d get her where she needed to go.
Tempest hoisted herself onto the first step of her truck, reached for the door, and opened it before hauling herself into the driver’s seat. Flinging the bag of guns in the seat beside her, she dug out her phone, popped the GPS coordinates into her map, and scanned along the route for possible trouble spots.
Tapping the screen, she scrolled along the highways for choke points. Part of the route would take her through the Shadowlands, where she’d need to use the Dindu Laphroaig, a special device hooked up to the truck that let her cross boundaries and realms.
She stiffened at the thought of going into vampire territory with her cargo. Vampires weren’t that friendly to the Fae, for one.
Nor could they be trusted.
The cargo she would haul was at severe risk for hijacking by any Fae who wanted inter-dimensional travel.
At least the vampires would probably leave her alone, but Fae biker gangs had a thing for ripping off truckers who drove in their territory.
Setting her phone on the dash, Tempest leaned over, unzipped the duffle and picked up one of the handguns. She popped the clip, checked the ammo, slid the clip back in and did the same thing with the other two large caliber handguns. Below that, two shotguns and a container of bullets fit in the length of the duffle.
This may be Faery, where magic roamed, but nothing beat a good old-fashioned bullet to the head for killing.
Especially if that bullet was magically charged.
Zipping the bag, she pushed it onto the floorboard and slid it beneath the dash before jumping out of her truck and shutting the door. The rig would be hooked up tonight and when she woke, she’d leave.
Until then, it was time for a bite to eat and something to help her sleep that came in a large bottle, was brown, and magically enhanced.
Ten minutes later, she strode into a bar packed with other truckers, some multidimensional like her, others who just hauled things around in Faery. She knew the players but kept her distance. Getting paid was the only thing she cared about.
If she wanted a hookup, she could score that any time.
The Fae, when they weren’t busy doing magical shit, liked to screw as much as any other creature.
Hell, probably more so.
Sitting down at the end of the bar, she saw Eli and waved.
He looked up from his drink and blinked acknowledgement.
Moonlight-silver hair hung down his back in a large bush and complimented his fair skin. The bright translucent glow of his eyes made him look like he was cut from the Moon itself, and he moved with a grace unlike most of his customers.
He’d served the one patron his drink, then slid down the bar toward her before stopping, grabbing a glass and setting it in front of her. Posting up alongside her, he seemed to sparkle more in her presence. “Tempest, you’re here. About to take off again?”
“Yeah. I need a drink before I go, though.”
“Roger that.” He pulled a bottle of whiskey off the top shelf. “You can owe me when you return.”
She frowned but reached into her wallet for cash. “I’d rather not.”
His version of owing usually involved sexual favors. She’d found out that little trick of his before she got hooked into having to go to bed with him, on account of him using words to trap her in a lie.
The Fae did not lie.
Eli shrugged. “Suit yourself. You know this is not cheap.”
Nodding, she set her cash down on the bar. “I have a long journey.”
“Yeah? Where to?”
“Other side of Faery.”
“Ah hell, Tempest. You mean—”
“Yup.”
“Goddamnit.” He poured her a double. “Look, no tricks. This one’s on me.”
“You like me.”
“More than most. But you’re going to have to drive through bloodsucker territory, and you know how much I hate those fanged fuckers. Are you at least getting paid well?”
She took the drink from him, brought it to her lips and took a healthy sip before downing the rest of the whiskey and handing him the glass. The burn irritated the back of her throat but quickly warmed her body. “I am. And I know. You never miss a chance to tell someone about your disdain toward the undead.”
“I mean, why the fuck are they even in Faery? They’re an abomination and they’re not magical. Whoever the fuck thought it was a good idea to mix races with something that isn’t even alive needed their head checked.”
“I don’t know if the Lord and Lady had that in mind when this happened.” She wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve, shoved her cash toward him. “Another.”
Sighing, Eli ran a hand through his thick mane and retrieved another bottle. This time he poured her drink, took the cash and shoved it in his pocket before pushing the glass to her. “You got supplies?”
“I do.”
“Cargo? What is it?”
“Don’t know.”
“Ah, then it must be pretty important. Or you’re playing things close like usual.”
“It’ll set me up
with what I want.” She lifted the glass in a toast to him before he caught her wrist.
“Hold up. I’ll join you. You bought my round, not yours.” He poured a shot, then lifted his glass. “Now.”
They drank quickly before slamming their glasses down on the bar. Taking hers from her, he leaned in. “Watch out. The Queen’s Guard has been more active lately.”
She quirked a brow. “Why?”
Eli shrugged. “Don’t know. But keep off their radar and you should be fine.”
“Are they hijacking trucks?”
“It wouldn’t make sense since the Queen owns a piece of everything that comes into or goes out of Faery. But some of the boys,” he waved a pointed finger back and forth to random truckers behind her, and his voice dropped. “They’ve reported that Sluagh are harassing folks.”
“You don’t want to make mention of that word too loudly.” She looked around, saw the windows to her left barred and locked.
“That’s why I whispered. You think they’d come, upon hearing their name?”
Tempest narrowed her brows. “I’m not that superstitious. Besides, the Queen’s Guard isn’t the Sluagh.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“I thought they were Ankou.”
Eli leaned in further. “Leader of the Queen’s Guard is, yeah. Reason for that.”
She nodded.
“You think about crossing into the Earth realm?”
“Pondered it.”
After a moment of silence, Eli looked down, then back up at seemingly nothing in particular. “Man, I hate those goddamn bastards.”
Tempest quirked a brow. “You still going on about the undead?”
“You know my hatred for them. Going through the Earth realm would let you avoid a lot of the mess.”
“I’d be cutting it close on my delivery time. Can’t afford to do that. This is my big payday.”
“Good.” He shook his head. “I get it. You’re that close, hm?”
She nodded.
“I’m going to miss you coming in here every few months.”
The female in her wanted to pat Eli on the shoulder and give him a gentle squeeze to reassure him she’d be fine and that she’d driven this route a handful of times and had been successful. She wanted to tell him, because he was the only secure, regular thing in her life that seemed to matter, though she’d never say it, that she’d never been hijacked and for good reason. The Fae in her knew better than to tell him anything. Instead, she spun around, rested on an elbow and surveyed the bar. Her enhanced vampiric hearing picked up the newest jackass mumbling about drink service. “You better go serve that ass over there.” She gestured with her chin toward another patron, a male, about six-foot-tall with golden hair and a funny orange tank top and pants.
“Sure thing, Tempest. Just be careful if you leave tonight.”
Turning back to her third glass, she was shocked to find it full before Eli went to handle his next customer. She picked it up, spun it around, and took a sip. The magic in the elixir would bring her peace serene, if she had enough, and this third shot was just that.
She didn’t want to actually go into Earth to avoid the Shadowlands; humans didn’t know of the existence of Fae and, she couldn’t exactly blend in. Her hair was too red, skin too pale, eyes too…no humans had tricolor eyes.
It would be faster if she cut through Earth, though. No vampires on that realm.
Faery itself was so huge that it was literally quicker to cut through realms rather than just drive from one end to the other. Plus, no one really knew how large the lands were, because the lands were alive and constantly changing with the mood of the unseen force, the one that wasn’t the Lord or Lady, which guided Faery.
Another hour later had her finishing that round and two more before she stumbled back to her truck, threw open the door, and climbed inside. Shutting and locking the door, she grabbed the duffle under the dash, pulled out two guns, and walked back into the cabin. Setting the guns beneath her pillow, Tempest stripped out of her boots, yanked off her socks, pants, heavy jacket and top, before climbing up to her bunk and yanking the sheet over her.
She’d hear the cargo trailer hooking up to her rig in the morning, and that would wake her.
Yawning, she closed her eyes and thought back about what Eli had said.
The Queen’s Guard were raising hell?
She could believe that. But were the dreaded Sluagh involved?
Naw.
Couldn’t be.
Over the last few years of doing this job, she’d never had a run-in with anything that would cause her problems.
But the guns were for protection, she assured herself. The bullets had been magically enhanced to cancel out whatever animated the dead. As for the Fae, the magic would weaken them enough to allow the body to respond like a human’s, when filled with lead.
The cargo was supposed to go to the Firebrand Motorcycle group, who were not the Sluagh. The Queen wanted them to have whatever it was, and needed them to get the haul as soon as possible.
Without question, when one of the members of the Court approached her with this request, Tempest understood it wasn’t a request but rather a formal order. One that came with a large amount of money.
Tempest yawned once more, covering her mouth with a hand while she thought back to what the foreman said earlier. “Deliver or face punishment.”
Snorting, she reminded herself that this was her last ride. The open roads would welcome her one more time with a reward, which would allow her to get out of Faery and settle in somewhere and be anonymous.
Somewhere that Fae and Vampire would leave her alone for her mixed heritage.
Nightfall had finally hit. Jonas had been restless because of family--a funny thing for a vampire. When he rose, he slipped on clothes, his cut, mounted his bike and rode down the dark road.
Not a single streetlight existed except for the light from his motorcycle. With enhanced vision, he only needed that. Human technologies had been introduced to parts of Faery. The why was a mystery, and only the Fae cared.
Jonas had no fucks to give for this realm.
The bond he had held onto had grown weaker as he slept, making him ride with clenched teeth and a death grip on his bike.
Turning his sister should have saved her life, not exposed her to a cancer that only affected vampires.
It took ten minutes to make his way to the clubhouse to meet with the rest of the Undead Souls MC. They had a purpose tonight.
Plan a theft.
Pulling into his parking spot by the garage, he wheeled his bike into place and spotted a few of the other vampires lounging around, a sense of impending urgency emanating from them as it always did before a job.
Stuck here on the edge between the Shadowlands and Faery, blood actually moved through him, a sign that this wasn’t just a club job, but one of greater importance.
He dismounted and headed toward the two other members.
“Jonas, how fare thee?”
Jonas nodded at Rasputin, their VP and an older vampire, with pale silver hair that fell to his hips and eyes that could be considered Darkness itself, almost as if the holes in his skull were vortexes in perfectly pale flesh. Rasputin, like Cristin standing beside him, had heft to his body and most of it was muscle.
“Well, brother. Shit’s about to go down.”
“Tis true.” Rasputin clapped him on the shoulder, the sound of his hand echoing in the silence of the night. “This is supposed to be a big haul. Know what it is?”
“I can only hope it’s something as big as the Prez is telling us. He says it may be able to get us back to our lands.”
“And it’ll solve that other problem too?”
Jonas turned to face Cristin, regarding him with a tight smile. “I’d like to hope so.”
Cristin blinked. At least for the undead, he bothered to show some semblance of emotion in his pale blue irises, bright as flames in the darkness. Strong, yet slender in stature, h
is movements were graceful for someone so lanky. “Good. I’m sick and tired of being in this fucking realm.”
“Aren’t we all, brother?”
The three of them straightened at the sound of another large motorcycle pulling into the lot. Jonas looked to his left first, spotted not just their Prez, but Bogart the Blunt riding behind him, before the two of them pulled into their spots and dismounted, removing helmets almost as if in sync.
His head held high, Davin, their Prez, clapped his helmet on his seat, revealing a manicured beard that reached a point at the center of his chest. Dressed in black, his leather cut matching the others, his boots jingled from the number of exquisite buckles. Blond hair had been tied back with a ribbon, yet his t-shirt was an unusually modern note.
How normal of the regal Prince.
Davin approached, walking as if he still owned that huge castle back in the Shadowlands, complete with servants and wenches. “Tis time for a meeting. Are all accounted for?”
Cristin’s eyes darted to the left toward the clubhouse. “Everyone’s here. The rest are inside.”
“Just patches?” Davin lifted his chin.
“Yeah.” Cristin blinked. “The others have been put on notice to be ready in case we demand it.”
“Good. Let us plan this heist.” Davin led the way, parting the three of them with Bogart bringing up the rear. They approached the old stone building someone had left unkempt and in ruins for years before the MC were forced to move in.
Walking past a bar that served more for the few Fae groupies and wannabes than anything else, Jonas ran his hand down the smooth wood, mentally counting bottles of liquor to clear his mind while following along until they’d reached a side room. Entering one at a time, they all took their places around a huge wooden table with the name Undead Souls MC carved in the center.
Davin took his seat at the head of the table, lifted his gavel. “Church in session. First order of business, money. I know operations are not as lucrative here as in the old country, but with us being stuck in Faery, we only have one option to get back. We all know the stakes, pardon the pun.”
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