Aspen

by Skye Knizley

  “Do you think he will listen to a vampire?”

  Raven smiled and extended her fangs. “I’m not a vampire. I’m a Fürstin and the child of Strohm. He will listen or I’ll have his head on a pole outside my mother’s estate. Are we clear?”

  The fae’s eyes widened. “Strohm has no blood heir!”

  Raven jerked on the woman’s collar and pulled her so close they were almost kissing. “Look into my eyes and tell me I’m lying. Strohm’s blood runs through these veins as it does through Aspen’s. She is mine and I will kill anyone who dares try to harm her.”

  She let go and straightened. “Go. Tell your king. If I see your face again, I’m going to tear it off and send it back to him in a box.”

  The blonde faerie stood, holding her ribs. “What about my man?”

  Raven looked at him. He still sat in the truck clutching his knee. “He and the woman are doing time, there is nothing I can do about that. They will be processed and held in solitary under the eyes of the House Tempeste. Get out of here before I make you join them.”

  The faerie’s eyes were sad, but she turned away and started walking. Her image shimmered and she disappeared a moment before Levac arrived with the smoking Bass. He leaned out the window and pointed. “Did that woman just..?”

  Raven picked up her weapon, loaded it and slipped it into her holster. “Yes. I sent her to deliver a message that Chicago is off limits.”

  “But…she just vanished!”

  Raven shrugged. “She went wherever faeries go. Book these two, will you? I need a drink and to call Aspen.”

  Levac got out of the car. “Which charges?”

  Raven looked back. “All of them.”

  She turned away and started walking. Squad cars were piling up in the alley and the street beyond, but she ignored them. She could feel Aspen, far away. She was frightened and sad. Alone.

  Raven closed her eyes and focused on her. You are never alone.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Devil’s Lake, MO: 11:00 p.m.

  Devil’s Mine didn’t look like much. After the fire broke out, the Army corps of engineers had walled off the exterior, leaving nothing but a single chain-link gate that now hung askew on its hinges. Beyond the gate was a short span of pavement that steamed in the cold night air and the entrance to the mine.

  The mine consisted of several wooden structures left over from the original silver mine. They looked more like Western cabins than mining buildings. The remains of a rail-cart system extended from the end of one dark building and ended it a twisted pair of rails at the edge of the pavement. Jynx led the way across the pavement toward the buildings, her pistols held ready.

  “I don’t suppose you have any of your girlfriend’s ammunition, do you?” she asked.

  “No,” Aspen said. “I didn’t expect to need any out here.”

  “Learning experience, Asp. In our world, what we expect rarely happens and what we don’t expect bites us in the ass,” Jynx said.

  Aspen didn’t comment, but she knew Jynx was right. When they got out of this she was going to call Thad and get some of his ammo sent out, along with anything else he could spare from the magikal arsenal.

  They reached the far side of the lot and started up the long ramp to the mine. It was a steep incline made even more treacherous by splintered bones that littered the floor. Aspen squatted and held some of them up to her light. The pieces were clean and had marks in them almost as if they’d been gnawed on.

  “I think we’re in the right place,” she said.

  Jynx turned. “Yeah?”

  Aspen nodded. “Yeah. These bones, they weren’t broken in the explosion or fire. They were broken by something that was eating them, something that wanted the morrow from inside.”

  “As if hanging with you wasn’t gross enough. Lycans?”

  Aspen rubbed her fingers over the tooth marks. “No. The canines weren’t pronounced. This was an omnivore with a taste for human flesh. If I didn’t know better I would say human.”

  She dropped the bones and continued up the ramp with Jynx close behind. At the top was the first of the mine buildings and the mine entrance. The heat pouring from within was almost stifling. Aspen pulled her shirt over her mouth as a makeshift mask and started toward the narrow staircase that led down to the mineshaft.

  “Asp?” Jynx called.

  Her voice sounded weak and distant. Aspen turned to see her leaning against the wall with blue mucus dripping from her nose. She rushed to Jynx’s side and caught her just before she slipped to the floor.

  “I’ve got you, Jynxie,” she said.

  “I don’t think I can go any further. This…whatever, its kicking my ass,” Jynx said. She wiped her nose and looked at Aspen. “I’m sorry.”

  Aspen kissed her forehead. “Nothing to be sorry about, you’ve been awesome. You stay here and watch our escape, I’ve got this.”

  Jynx leaned back against the wall. “Just come back, I’d hate to think what Raven will do to me if you don’t.”

  Aspen hugged her again, then stood and moved toward the stairs. When she looked over the railing she could see the fire hundreds of feet below, twisting and swirling around itself like a living thing.

  She started down the steps, which shook as she descended and made the walk dizzying. Between the vertigo and the heat, it was all she could do just to reach the bottom.

  The stairs emptied into a large natural cavern that had been converted into the first floor of the mine. A rail system vanished into darkness ahead while the mineshaft itself descended into the inferno below. There had once been a mine elevator and railing, but it had long since burned away, leaving nothing but an empty hole into hell.

  Aspen shined her light around the chamber. Old mining equipment was mixed with more broken bones and a collection of small jars that formed a sort of pyramid shape. On the wall beside them were the symbols Wright had seen. Aspen stepped forward and ran a hand over them, hoping the key to the prison was hidden among them.

  “Welcome, Aspen Storm,” a voice said. “That is how you think of yourself, yes?”

  It wasn’t a good voice, it had a hissing quality that made Aspen’s skin crawl. She turned and spotted a figure in the shadows. It was small and thin, with arms and legs that seemed too long for its body. Its skin was blue, not bright blue, but so dull it was almost grey, and covered in Native American markings and brands that rippled as if of their own accord. It was also nude and, apparently, genderless.

  It scuttled forward in a Gollum-like manner and Aspen could see that the markings were moving, they were made of thousands of tiny insects that crawled over its flesh.

  “We’ve been expected you,” it continued.

  Aspen stepped back and put a shield between herself and the creature. “How do you know my name?”

  It tapped on her shield and grinned, showing flat, blackened teeth. “We’ve been in your head, in your dreams. Delicious, your fear was.”

  It licked its lips and sighed with pleasure. “Almost as good as your friend. Even better will her flesh taste!”

  Realization dawned and Aspen stared at the creature in disbelief. “You live off emotion!”

  The djinn scuttled in a circle. “Neglected, your education is, little shaman. Fear. Fear is the most sustaining of emotions. It can drive a small bird to fly leagues to avoid freezing to death, sea creatures to flee onto land, delicious, it is.”

  It stopped and turned. “My people, on shamans did we feed. The Blue Death. Until discovered, we were. Imprisoned here and left to die.”

  “They put you in a cage and left you until the miners let you out. That was a nice trick, creating silver in near a coal mine,” Aspen said.

  She looked around the room, her mind working. The prison was here, she knew it. It had been down here so long, it couldn’t stray beyond the mine. Where was it?<
br />
  The djinn smiled again. “Tricked them, did we. An art form. Their wish we granted, my silver they took and their fear we drank.”

  Wishes. That was it!

  Aspen looked at the jars. Several contained a blue substance that was just visible through the cracked clay. They were marked with a glyph Aspen knew meant healing. But one lay broken and cast aside beneath the bones. It was larger than the others and marked with the symbol for danger. That was the prison. That was where the creature had escaped from. But how to get it back inside?

  She pushed the djinn away with her shield and scooped up the jar. It was heavier than it looked, and smelled the way dead locusts smelled in the summer, a mix of death and sickly-sweet tar.

  The djinn turned and hissed, its tongue snaking over its lips. Insects rose from its back and began to circle, buzzing angrily outside her shield.

  “Where did you get? Miners said they took away! Put that down!”

  “Shouldn’t be ‘down, put that? Your accent is slipping,” Aspen said.

  The djinn slapped one sticky hand against her shield, making her wince. “You cannot get us into the prison without lowering your shield. When down it is, dead you will be.”

  Aspen ignored him and continued to study the jar. The tribe that had imprisoned it had written something on the outside. She understood the first four glyphs, they essentially meant ‘don’t touch’. But what did ‘flaming earth’ mean?

  She looked at the djinn, the way it was moving. It stayed low, beneath the smoke and ash from the inferno. And it never once went near the mineshaft.

  She held up the jar. “If I give this to you, will you give me the antidote to your poison and let me go free?”

  The djinn paused. “Do not want. Destroy it! Yes! Destroy it for us and we will save you!”

  Aspen made a show of concentrating on the jar, trying to make it melt or otherwise cease to exist. After a moment, she gasped with effort and shook her head. “I can’t.”

  She kept her shield up and sidestepped until she was between the mine shaft and the djinn. She set the jar down and moved away again, still safe behind her shield.

  “You destroy it, I’m not strong enough.”

  The djinn licked its teeth. “Stupid, weak shaman! Should have stayed in Shy-cago!”

  It scuttled over and reached hesitantly for the jar. On the third try its hand closed over it and it picked the jar up. The djinn held it for a moment, then threw it into the fire with a mad giggle of triumph. It danced on its bandy legs and gibbered, gleeful to be free. After a moment, it turned.

  “Shield, you can lower, heal you we will,” it said.

  “How do I know I can trust you?” Aspen asked.

  The djinn shrugged. “Choice you do not have, shaman. Die you will.”

  “I…see your point.”

  She sat on the floor and lowered her shield. The djinn scuttled forward and bumped into an invisible force.

  “Shield? Stupid Shaman!”

  Aspen shook her head. “It isn’t a shield, it’s your new prison. A prison of earth and fire.”

  She closed her eyes and imagined the heat of the inferno below, the melted rock almost as hot as lava. She could see it, almost feel the searing heat. Her magik scooped it, molded it and slapped it into place against the shield around the djinn. Layer by layer she covered it, making a new prison.

  “Stop! Stop! We beg you, Shaman! Free us and your life we will save, wishes we will grant!” the djinn cried.

  It beat desperately against the shield and Aspen felt her magik weakening, but she held on.

  “Please!” the djinn moaned. “Your Raven we can give you!”

  Aspen slapped the last piece of hot rock into place and waved a hand. The still wet mass slammed into the wall and melted, became one with it.

  “I already have her,” she said.

  She lowered the trap and crawled to the jars, some of which were still intact. She broke the tar seal on the nearest one and looked at the blue glop within. It looked about as appetizing as play-dough.

  “I really hope I guessed right,” she muttered.

  She scooped a helping onto her finger and slipped it into her mouth. It tasted like play-dough, too. She swallowed with some difficulty and started the laborious climb back to the surface. Raven was never going to believe this.

  II

  Smokin’ Guns, St. Louis, MO: One Week Later

  Aspen stood beside a battered yellow Camaro. Creek had given it to her last night when he’d been unable to convince her to stay. She’d thrown her gear in the back and was now studying the fake identity that Piper had cooked up for her.

  “Amy Aspen, huh?”

  Jynx shrugged. “We didn’t want you to forget who you were.”

  Aspen waved the passport. “But why Scotland?”

  “Isn’t that where the faeries come from?” Piper asked in a terrible Scottish accent.

  Aspen laughed and slipped the paperwork into her pocket. “Thank you.”

  Piper smiled and rapped on the roof of the Camaro. “It’s the least I could do. You brought my sister back to me.”

  “Are you sure about this?” Jynx asked. “You could always come with us.”

  “Or go home. I’m sure Raven is looking for you,” Piper added.

  Jynx had told her everything while sharing a hospital bed with her over the last few days.

  Aspen looked at the car. It was rusty, but she knew it would be reliable. And it felt like something she needed to do. Jynx had been right, there was more to do than sling burgers.

  “She is. But there is something I need to do first. I still don’t know what killed those lycans, in Colorado, or why. I owe Martel and his team that much. ”

  She climbed into the car and looked out the window. “Don’t be strangers. If you need me, call.”

  Jynx leaned down and looked in. “The same goes for you, Aspen. If you need us, you know where to find us. You’re family, now.”

  Aspen started the engine and Jynx backed away. A moment later, she was on the highway heading west. An old friend of her father’s needed help out in Colorado, and she couldn’t say no. As she drove, she picked up her cell and dialed a number. A voice picked up a moment later.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Ray. It’s me…”

  EPILOGUE

  505 North Lakeshore Drive, Chicago, IL: Present Day

  Aspen set her wine glass aside and looked at Raven, who was lying on the couch beside her. They had been sharing stories for the last two hours, filling each other in on the parts of their lives they each had missed.

  “So, now you know where I was when you first encountered the Gallowglass, which you should have told me about, by the way,” she said.

  Raven drained her own glass and set it on the table beside her. “It didn’t seem that important, at the time. I knew they were after you, I stopped them, they never came back. It was only a week ago I realized you were more than just a little fae.”

  Aspen crawled onto the sofa and lay beside Raven. “You still should have told me when I called. I would have come home instead of going to Colorado.”

  Raven smiled. “Asp, I was just happy to hear from you, was happy you were alive and talking. I didn’t think to tell you. Your adventure was far more interesting, hanging out with hunters and imprisoning a djinn, impressive. No wonder you came back with abilities I didn’t know about.”

  Aspen snuggled under Raven’s chin. “It was fun, but I was so happy to be home, so happy to be yours. I would follow you anywhere, you know. As long as I have breath, I will be by your side.”

  Raven kissed the top of her head. “And I will be there, Asp. I promise.”

  Aspen sighed happily. Part of her knew she should tell Raven about what she’d seen, about the Gallowglass Knights she was certain were stalking them. But
not today. Not tonight. Now was for loving and being together back home in Chicago where they belonged. The Knights would wait.

  She looked up and kissed Raven. A thrill ran through her and she sighed again.

  Definitely not today.

  Fini

  RAVEN STORM WILL RETURN...

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  For my fans. Your questions and thirst to know more about Raven’s world keeps me writing. You rock!

  To Sarah, my publisher and rock, my sister from another mister who always has my back.

  Thank you.

  My publicist, whose name changes weekly, but who makes sure my readers know about my books

  Thank you, babes

  My stylist Kelly, who makes sure I am blonde 24/7: Thank you!

  and

  The Missouri History Museum

  Thank you for answering my weird questions