by A. E. Lowan
Table of Contents
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
A NOTE ON NAME PRONUNCIATION
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
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
EPILOGUES
A TASTE OF TIES OF BLOOD AND BONE: THE SECOND BOOK OF BINDING
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
FAERIE RISING
The First Book of Binding
A. E. Lowan
Phoenix Quill Books
PITTSBURG, MISSOURI
Copyright © 2017 by Phoenix Quill Books
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
Phoenix Quill Books
HC 79, Box 1770
Pittsburg, MO 65724
Visit the author's website: www.aelowan.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Book Layout © 2017 BookDesignTemplates.com
Cover design by Deranged Doctor Design
www.derangeddoctordesign.com
Faerie Rising: The First Book of Binding / A. E. Lowan -- 1st e-book ed.
ASIN: B06XDHC667
For our mothers, Peggy O'Rourke, Tammy Smith, and Theresa Vinck.
Thank you for teaching us that no dream, no matter how big, is out of reach.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
A NOTE ON NAME PRONUNCIATION
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
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
EPILOGUES
A TASTE OF TIES OF BLOOD AND BONE: THE SECOND BOOK OF BINDING
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
No book is created in a vacuum. It has taken years and a small army of supporters to bring Seahaven and The Books of Binding to the world. A. E. Lowan would like to extend our humblest thanks to:
Deranged Doctor Design, for your amazing cover art. We are writers left without words.
(www.derangeddoctordesign.com)
Bradley Gunson, our dread alpha reader. This book wouldn't exist without you. We cower in fear of your red pen and marvel at your discerning intuition.
Our four Graces: Karen Jones, Keri-Dawn, Lacey Scott, and Marissa Southards, our infinitely patient beta readers. Dear ladies, we cannot thank you enough.
Tim and Peggy O'Rourke, for years of patience, encouragement, and keeping us going.
Robert and Theresa Vinck, for always believing we could do this.
Tammy Smith, for always encouraging us to do our best, and for all the sacrifices you have made to get us this far.
Seattle Public Schools, for an afternoon patiently answering a writer's questions.
George Cole with Alpha Omega Ink of Van Buren, Arkansas, for your invaluable advice in the creation of the Marks.
Dr. Christine Harker and Dr. Rebecca Harrison from Truman State University, for generously donating your time and knowledge.
The community at Mythic Scribes, for all your support and encouragement.
(mythicscribes.com)
Sam Giffen, for your paintball expertise and unending enthusiasm for the series.
Jonas Journey, for a thousand reasons. You are a blessing.
Judith Towse Roberts, for teaching us the rules and, more importantly, when to break them.
Shirley and Paula Schaaf, for lifetimes spent inspiring and fostering creativity.
Kyra Bergen, for lending a helpful ear.
Joseph Ingrassia, for offering support where it was sorely needed.
Mick Kasemeier, for reading work of early years and sticking through till the end, and now … new beginnings.
Nathan Matthews, for putting up with late nights and our obsession.
Ray Yettaw, for your encouragement and advice.
Robin Heather Owens Slicer, for being there for the terrible early stories and never wavering in your belief that the good ones would come.
Glenys McGhee, for teaching us how to collaborate.
How To Fight Write, for your technical advice.
(howtofightwrite.tumblr.com)
Writing With Color, for answering honestly, thoughtfully, and quickly and for reminding us to always reach for more than the familiar.
(writingwithcolor.tumblr.com)
The pioneers of urban fantasy who have gone before us, for boundless inspiration and leaving breadcrumbs for the tenacious to follow.
Chris Smith, for contributing business advice and being a typical brother.
Aidan Seek, for your sense of humor. Some day you will be the best office minion of them all.
A NOTE ON NAME PRONUNCIATION
The Books of Binding contain some names for which the pronunciations are not immediately obvious. Here is a guide to pronouncing those names which might prove tricky.
Anluan: AN-lahn
Anraí: AHN-rey
Aodhán: AY-dawn
Bri: Bree
Ceallach: KAL-ahk
Chretien: CREH-tee-en
Cian: KEE-an
Dagda: DAH-dah
Eoin: OH-win
Etienne: EH-tee-en
Gaubert: Gow-BEAR
Midir: Mid-HEER
Mulcahy: Mul-KAY-hee
Niahm: Neev
Scoithín: Skoy-THEEN
/>
Senán: SHEH-nan
Sorcha: SOR-kha
CHAPTER ONE
The little bell above the shop door preceded the desperate cry of, “Winter, we need you!” The urgency in her friend’s voice tore the wizard’s attention from her task. She dropped the open box of sterile surgical instruments on the long counter and rushed across the back-room clinic, passing the city map of Seahaven, Washington that took up one entire wall. On the map were red dots and a concise note for every violent incident this year. It was the end of October and the map was so covered in red that it looked like it was inflicted with a virulent rash. She pushed her way through the thickly beaded curtain into the still-darkened storefront.
It was hours before the rest of the shops in the Historical District would open. The sun was just trembling on the mountain’s lips and the deep shadows cast by the century-old buildings left the street so dark that the streetlights were still lit. Through the doorway walked Giovanni and Katherine, though “walk” might have been too casual a description. He leaned heavily on her smaller frame, his dark skin ashen even in the dim light, but she bore his weight easily with her right arm about his lean waist, holding both his and her jackets in place against his back. Katherine kicked the door closed behind her and showed Winter her face, fair beneath the thick spray of blood that glittered on her skin and hair.
Winter swallowed down the rising bile of panic as the meat smell of heavy bleeding reached her. In her experience, that was the smell of a loved one’s violent death.
She had seen a great deal of death.
“What happened?” she asked even as she quelled her trembling belly with a wash of icy professionalism and shoved a half-empty box aside with her foot to make a clear path. The shop was a disaster, thick with dust, boxes everywhere and the shelves half empty. But there was precious little she could do about it anytime soon.
Katherine carefully maneuvered Giovanni through the beaded curtain into the light as Winter held it open. While Winter slipped on surgical gloves and one of her white coats, Katherine lifted him up onto the sturdy old exam table.
“Sharks...” he began, his voice breathy with pain, but Katherine placed her blood-slick hand over his pale lips.
“Be still, Giovanni,” she said.
He gave a small nod, his dark eyes glassy, and his tongue flickered out to taste the blood that gloved her arm to her elbow.
“Did he say sharks?” Winter raised a pale eyebrow in surprise, but her eyes were already focused on the soaked jackets that now clung in heavy folds to Giovanni’s body, held in place by the sticky blood. She had to focus on the injury, not her friend, not his pain. Compartmentalize the current crisis so she could bring all her training to the forefront and take charge of the problem and not be lost in her fear and sympathy for him – or worse, be lost in the memories the overwhelming scent of his blood brought flooding back to her. The meat smell was coming from Giovanni, not Katherine, and Winter now strongly suspected that the blood covering Katherine’s face was not her own. She took the edge of the makeshift bandage and began to peel it carefully away from his body.
“Four sharks at 27th and Benton, looking for trouble.” Katherine let her eyes close as Giovanni drew one of her fingers into his mouth and began to suck it clean. Her lips parted, her upper and lower fangs extending much like a snake to show startling white against the natural crimson of her mouth. She had licked her lips clean, but blood was drying in her hair, and completely coated her throat and chin. She wore a black t-shirt that was cropped too short for the late October chill, revealing a generous hand span of flat belly above her black jeans. Beneath another arching splash of blood across the shirt winked white letters, “Strangers Have the Best Candy,” that did nothing to hide Katherine’s hardening nipples.
Winter glanced at the city map, really more to have something else to look at than because she needed to, and then back at Giovanni’s emerging wound. “That’s outside their territory.” She wished they would do that someplace... elsewhere. She knew the blood could keep Giovanni distracted from his pain, but it was a bit disconcerting. Both were becoming aroused, which only served to heighten the release of their pheromones. They were scenting at each other, but Winter was caught in the middle. She noticed that she had shifted her weight closer to the two of them, closer to their enticing scent, and consciously shifted away. They really needed to stop. She was in no mood for a cold shower.
“Are they pressing the lions again?” she continued, trying to distance herself from her own hormones. The two groups of therianthropes – shape-shifters bearing both human and animal forms – had experienced tensions ever since Corinne Lyons-de Vera, the Lion Queen, came to Seahaven. Their territories overlapped, the sharks being on the waterfront and in Eriksson Bay, and the lions holding the largest islands in the Bay. The lions had closely allied with the dolphins and selkies early on, which brought them into direct conflict with the sharks, the dolphins’ natural enemies. And now there was this new alliance between the sharks and the orcas, pitting both groups against the dolphins and the lions… The factional fighting really would never end, would it?
Katherine opened her eyes with some small difficulty, their dove gray striking against the fine crimson spray that dappled her cheeks and eyelids, pupils dilated. This much blood... Winter could imagine it was intoxicating, even cold, but she really did not need to deal with a pair of blood-drunk vampires this morning, close friends or not. “It would seem so.”
Giovanni was making small pain noises as Winter carefully tore loose half-formed clots that clung to the jacket fabric and Katherine slipped two other blood-covered fingers into the wounded vampire’s mouth. “They had a couple of the younger lion boys cornered... I think they wanted to send Corinne a message.”
Winter dropped the ruined jackets with a wet splat into her large metal sink and set to cutting away Giovanni’s artistically faded t-shirt. With sharks, she expected to see a massive wound, as a therian shark would bite to remove flesh… but what had they been doing in the water, then? 27th and Benton was not that close to the Bay. Therian sharks needed immersion to shift. But as she peeled the blood-soaked fabric away three parallel slices running from the point of his right shoulder blade to the lower edge of his ribs began to bleed with renewed vigor. Winter froze for a moment in surprise and then reached for a large sport bottle of sterile water. “Sharks don’t have claws... did the lions do this?” Sharks were one of the few predatory therian species to not be land mammals, and they also did not shift into half-form – the traditional “wolf-man” often seen in movies. Like the other aquatic species, if they attacked on land, they attacked in human form. Even with a therian’s strength and speed it gave them a considerable disadvantage against the fangs and claws of their more gifted rivals.
Giovanni moaned in pain as Winter began cleaning the wounds and grasped Katherine’s hand in a white-knuckled grip. His full strength would have broken Winter’s bones, but Katherine squeezed back, gently stroking the back of his hand and his wrist. “No, the sharks did it.” She changed her grip on Giovanni’s hand, so he could squeeze tight. “The fourth one snuck up behind him while we were dealing with his three friends.”
As the water washed the clotting blood from the wounds, Winter noticed how very clean the edges were, no tearing at all, the slices driving deep through skin and fat and into the muscles of his shoulder. “This was done with three parallel blades.”
Katherine nodded. “They have some new toys. Apparently, their King found a solution to his claw envy, and they’ve discovered the wide, wonderful world of fist weapons.”
“Sharp, too,” Giovanni rasped, pain and stress deepening the Eastern European tones of his Romani accent. “Didn’t know how bad it was ‘til my arm wasn’t working right.”
Wonderful. Because the factions in Seahaven needed more ways to kill each other. Winter checked the depths of the lacerations for debris, washing her friend’s blood away and down to soak into the pile of towels tucked c
arefully against his side, and was grateful, not for the first time, that he was a vampire. It would take more than this to cause him to bleed his life away on her floor. It was painful, but it was already beginning to heal. “You’re lucky he didn’t bite you,” she said as she set down the bottle and reached for a large jar of translucent green ointment. “You would be a while trying to grow back that much flesh.” Now a wizard, on the other hand – wizards were much easier to kill. As much blood as there was here, there had been so much more when the twins... She shook her head, shoving the memories away. Kelley and Martina, her cousins, had only died six months before, but grief was an indulgence and she did not have time for it. The here and now was what mattered. Her gaze fell on Katherine, who watched her speculatively. “Are you hurt?”
Katherine shook her head and ran a finger across her chin and down her throat, scraping the caked blood coating her skin like thin icing. The grin she flashed at Winter was a savage thing, full of sharp teeth and fierce joy. “The one who sliced Giovanni was not so lucky.”
Winter returned her friend’s smile with a weak one of her own. At least someone was having a good time, here. John Donovan, the Shark King, was going to have things to say, later.
But so would she.
“Mulcahy?”
Again, the bell above the door jingled and an urgent voice, a stranger’s, called, and Winter closed her eyes. Now what? “One moment, please,” she replied towards the shop front. All she wanted was one single hour without a crisis, without someone bleeding. “Can you get him sitting up?” she asked Katherine as she reached into the jar and scooped out a generous handful of the ointment. Katherine took Giovanni’s weight in her arms and easily lifted him upright.