Queen of the Fae

by Linsey Hall

  “Yep.”

  She squeezed my shoulder. “Good luck. We’ll be on the east entrance if you need us.”

  “Thank you.”

  Everyone would be stationed at the various closed entry points to the realm. They were the most likely places for the queen to try to break through. When she did, reinforcements would flow toward her and the other Unseelie.

  “I’m going to go with them,” Aeri said.

  I gave her a hard hug. “Be careful. If it gets too dicey, leave.” I looked at the FireSouls. “Same goes for you.”

  “Sure.” Aeri said, and I didn’t believe a word of it.

  The FireSouls nodded their heads yes, but their eyes said no.

  They’d stay, no matter how iffy it got.

  The group all turned and retreated, heading toward their post. A monster truck drove up alongside them, three women leaning out. Two brunettes and a blonde—the DragonGods from the Undercover Protectorate in Scotland. More friends, who I hadn’t seen in ages. Here to help. They waved at us as they picked up the FireSouls and my sister, then zoomed off toward the east, the big truck eating up the ground.

  I turned to look at Tarron.

  “You have a lot of friends,” he said.

  I nodded, my throat a bit tight. Was that what you called people who risked their lives for you?

  It seemed like there should be a better word, though I couldn’t think of it.

  “Let’s get going.” I looked up. “Will we wait up there?”

  He nodded. “It’s equidistant from all the entrances, so when she arrives, we’re most likely to get to her quickly.”

  I drew in a deep breath and called upon my wings, eying the dagger sheathed at Tarron’s thigh as I rose high into the air. He flew alongside, graceful and powerful on the air.

  We landed on the edge of the platform, and guilt swelled inside of me at the sight of all the scared faces. The Fae—old, young, and sick—all sat on mats and cushions, waiting.

  This had to be what the Tube tunnels had looked like in London during the Blitz.

  Barbaric.

  I made my life out of violence—chasing demon hunters and pretty much bathing in their blood daily.

  But that was small scale, and it was my choice.

  This garbage…

  War.

  “It’s bullshit,” I muttered.

  Tarron squeezed my hand, and I had a feeling he knew what I meant by it.

  I turned from the faces, needing to center myself. I couldn’t be freaking out when the queen showed up—that was a recipe for losing. And this was one fight—the one fight—I couldn’t afford to lose.

  The entire perimeter of the platform was populated by warrior Fae, wings at the ready. Armor gleamed in the sun, and weapons glinted menacingly. The land-bound enforcements were situated on the ground, whereas those who could fly would attack from the air, launching off of this platform.

  Tarron made the rounds, speaking to the soldiers. Bolstering them. Their shoulders straightened after a few words from him, and it was clear what kind of king he was.

  The best.

  The kind who would die for his people, all while letting them believe he’d usurped the throne from his brother so he could protect the legacy of his loved one.

  Finally, he joined me, and we stood, staring out at his kingdom.

  Wind blew my hair back from my face, and I shivered.

  It truly was beautiful. The entire place looked like a fairy tale—but then, that’s where the term probably came from.

  Tension tightened my skin as we waited. I had no idea how long it could be.

  “In all honesty, she could wait days,” I said.

  “She could.”

  “I don’t think she will. I don’t think she can wait.”

  “Agreed.” Tarron squeezed my hand, and I wondered if this would be the last time we’d touch each other.

  Was our fated mate bond meant to end like this? Short, volatile, passionate—and then one meant to kill the other?

  It was too horrible to even contemplate.

  I shook my head, driving away the fear.

  There was no way I’d let fear take me now.

  “She just has to heal, then she’ll be here.” If I went to her, would she stop this?

  No.

  And she’d cause far more damage than this. With me as her weapon, the whole world was at risk.

  I’d no sooner thought it than it felt like the world itself exploded. From the east, a massive blast thundered through the air, knocking back our fighters.

  “It is time,” Tarron bellowed.

  Instinct overrode my terror of what was to come, and I was grateful. I’d spent very little of my adult life being afraid—I was entirely unused to it.

  Tarron turned to me and gave me one last kiss on the lips. Hard, fast, full of feeling.

  Then over.

  He pulled away and launched himself into the sky. I took to the air, my wings flaring wide and carrying me swiftly over the ground below. Tarron stuck close to my side, and hundreds of Seelie flew all around.

  The queen and her Unseelie forces were pouring out of a portal in the middle of a field. They were a good hundred yards from the nearest building. They’d need to reach it to allow their flame to alight. Tarron had mentioned that they’d left this entrance—the one farthest from the city—just a tiny bit weaker than the rest. They’d shored up everything to the best of their ability, but when magic ran short, this was the one chosen to be faulty.

  And it had worked. The weakness in the protections had drawn the queen, and she’d chosen to break through here.

  It gave us more time to take her out before she could light the city on fire.

  I swooped toward the Unseelie, who were launching themselves into the sky. Black hair and pale skin was stark against the blue, cloudless backdrop. Many of them stayed on the ground, surrounding the queen. She would stay there, I was sure—more protection when you were standing. No one could attack you from below.

  Our side collided with theirs in a clash of magic and metal.

  I spotted an enormous crow soaring through the air, grabbing an Unseelie in its talons. It had to be Ana, the Morrigan, a Dragon God who represented the Celtic pantheon. Nearby, Cass flew in her griffon form. Huge and majestic, she had golden feathers that transitioned to fur, huge claws and a beak that could crush horses. She went for the Unseelie, snapping at the wings with her jaws. Behind her, I spotted the Origin. The first original shifter also preferred the griffon form. He was even bigger than Cass, able to grab two Unseelie at a time with his front claws.

  Tarron shot into the battle, flying ahead of me and colliding with an enemy, sword to sword. Their blades clashed and blood flew. Tarron fought with a force and speed that was difficult to comprehend.

  I looked to the ground, trying to find an open space around the queen. I didn’t need a lot of room—just enough to attack from. I gave my transportation power one go, trying to reach the spot right next to her, but it didn’t work.

  Damn it.

  There had to be some kind of magical barrier, and I wasn’t surprised. She wouldn’t come here and leave herself open like that.

  I eyed the area around the queen, looking for my in. Dozens of Unseelie pointed arrows at the sky, ready to fire should we approach.

  Del, on the ground below, danced through the crowd of Unseelie in her phantom form. Transparent blue and incorporeal, she passed right through them, turning solid only briefly so she could stab one in the shoulder. Nix stood on the outskirts farther away, firing arrows at a record pace, taking out Unseelie after Unseelie.

  I couldn’t help feeling guilt at the deaths of those who weren’t willingly serving the queen, and I hoped that Nix wasn’t shooting to kill. I’d asked Aeri to explain to everyone what the deal was. Fortunately, it looked like Nix was aiming for legs and shoulders—debilitating but not killing.

  I looked closely. Everyone was doing that, in fact. In a battle like this, it was im
possibly difficult to pull your punches and only wound when your enemy was determined to kill, but the magical might of those assembled here was phenomenal. If anyone was up to the task, it was my friends.

  The Seelie warriors were more vicious, however, and I couldn't blame them. They had no reason to believe me when I said that some of these fighters were unwilling. And behind them was a platform full of their weakest loved ones waiting to be burned to death.

  If I were in their shoes, I’d probably kill first and ask questions later as well.

  Aeri fought on the ground below, swinging her mace with terrifying accuracy and nailing the Unseelie in the arms. She was chopping them away from the herd, getting closer and closer to the queen.

  Even as our forces broke down the queen’s guard, the evil one moved ever forward toward the town. Her horde was like a steam engine, rolling ever onward. They lost dozens of their number, falling to my friends’ magic and metal, but they kept going. Tarron fought bravely from the other side, cutting down Unseelie after Unseelie. But there were so many.

  Finally, I spotted my chance.

  And she was nearly within throwing distance of the closest building. There was no time left. I called a small shield from the ether and charged, headed straight for the queen.

  Straight for death.

  16

  I hurtled through the sky toward the queen, my hair whipping back in the wind. The short dagger in my hand felt like a lifeline. It wasn’t the enchanted dagger—no way in hell was I using that one.

  The queen’s eyes caught on me and she shrieked. She launched herself into the air, headed right toward me. I hurled my blade, aiming right for her stomach.

  She jerked out of the way at the last minute, and the dagger went sailing by. I called upon another and sent it flying harder toward her.

  In the distance, I caught sight of Tarron trying to fight his way to me, but I turned my attention toward the queen.

  She hurled a blast of magic at me, and I deflected it with my sword. More Seelie were flying to her, trying to reach her from all angles.

  It has to be me.

  I threw my second dagger with such force and precision that it had to land.

  It has to.

  The blade flipped through the air as it flew. She darted right, swift and graceful. All the same, it nailed her in the side. She shrieked, clutching her ribs with her free hand. Black blood poured through her fingers.

  I raced for her, drawing a sword from the ether. In seconds, I was on her, my eyes glued to the glass ball of fire in her hand. I slashed my blade toward her shoulder, not daring to hit the arm that held the ball. I would have to grab it before it fell. It probably wouldn’t alight on the damp grass below, but I couldn't take the risk.

  At the last second, she drew a blade from the ether and parried. Our swords clashed in the air, and I kicked at her stomach, trying to force her to lose her balance.

  She darted, narrowly avoiding my blow, and I drew my sword back. I struck out for her again and kicked the dagger that was still lodged in her side.

  She howled, pain and rage in the sound, then flew for me, impossibly fast. Her foot plowed into my stomach, sending me tumbling back through the air. I went head over heels from the force of her blow, narrowly managing to stop myself before I slammed into the ground.

  Even with my newfound ability to actually land a hit on her without being stopped by magic, she was still more powerful than me.

  As I flew toward her, wings weak and muscles aching, I knew I needed to be cleverer to beat her.

  What about the reflecting magic? She used it differently than I did. I just needed to find a new way to use it to strike back at her.

  She was nearly to the buildings now, though. I threw another dagger. I didn’t dare try for the bow. It required me to pause and aim, and I didn’t have that kind of time. My blade managed to hit her in the arm when she wasn’t looking. She hissed and turned to me, rage shining in her dark eyes.

  I was nearly to her. So close.

  She threw the fireball.

  Horror swallowed me whole as I watched it sail toward the nearest building and explode against the roof. Flames burst to life, licking over the surface.

  No.

  No!

  Anger and terror exploded within me, giving me a powerful burst of energy that shot me forward.

  I will kill her.

  Rage drove my actions. Not thought. Not rationality. Pure, unadulterated rage and fear like nothing I’d ever felt before.

  The Unseelie held off any other attackers who might come at her, and it was almost like they were letting me through. In the distance, Tarron fought viciously to reach her. His blade flew, and blood sprayed as he cut down Unseelie after Unseelie.

  But my path was clear.

  My mother—the queen—wanted a showdown with me.

  She hurled a bolt of magic, and I dodged, going right and then forward, using every inch of Dragon Blood speed I had.

  We collided in midair once again, our swords clashing. I slashed for her, determined to take her head off.

  She dodged, slicing my arm with her blade. The steel cut deep, and I nearly dropped my own sword. Blood poured down my arm.

  I struck again, nailing her in the leg. The cut was long and deep, and she hissed. She kicked out with her other leg, hitting me so hard that I tumbled backward in the air. She had a strength unlike any I’d ever experienced. I slammed to the ground, agony everywhere.

  Dazed, I stared up at the sky. Pain nearly blinded me, but it was the heat of the nearby fire that made terror drive me to my knees. Red, blue, and green—it flickered across the rooftops, devouring and rising high.

  Tarron landed next to me, his face white and his lips tight. In the distance, the queen turned on the air and began to retreat.

  My heart thundered so loud and so fast that it felt like it would explode. My head roared. Fear chilled me.

  My gaze moved to Tarron. “No!”

  Jaw set, he removed the blade from the holster at his side.

  “No!” Grief tore at my chest.

  “You have to.”

  “No! There’s another way.” My gaze moved to the queen. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be time. “I can kill her.”

  “It will still kill me.”

  He was right. He was rational. Both Fae royalty would die when this blade was used. Two halves of the same coin, taken out by the magic that was destroying this place.

  Panicked, my gaze flashed to him. “This can’t be happening.”

  Somehow, he found the time—the strength—for a tender smile. “It’s over, Mari.” His gaze flicked up toward the platform in the sky. “Look—the flame is nearly to the platform. They will all die. All of them.”

  My gaze flicked upward, but it was nearly impossible to see through the tears that filled my eyes and the smoke that clouded the air.

  The inferno had grown impossibly high, reaching for the sky platform as if it knew the living ones were there. It wanted to burn flesh, not just wood and stone.

  I failed.

  All I’d wanted was to save Tarron.

  My fated one.

  I failed.

  “But I tried to stop this!” I cried.

  “I know.” He kissed me gently on the lips, and I clung to him, unwilling to let him go. To let time pass.

  But it would pass—no matter what we did. Delaying would only cause grief.

  I didn't need to be rational though. Tarron did it for me. He pressed the blade into my hand.

  My skin grew cold and my stomach lurched. I wanted to hurl the blade away from me, break it in half.

  He twisted it so the tip pressed to his chest. Right where his heart was. He did all the work. I could barely see through the tears.

  This was what I had seen in my vision.

  So perfectly.

  Except I hadn’t seen him basically killing himself.

  Anything for his people.

  “Don’t leave me.” My voi
ce broke.

  “I have to.” His gaze flicked to the sky platform. “It’s nearly there. Only a few feet to go. Most of them can’t fly.”

  I sobbed, the memory of their faces flashing in my mind. Terror like I’d never known opened a hole in my chest.

  The queen was nearly to the exit. The Seelie were near death.

  And then Tarron did it for me. Though my hands touched the hilt of the dagger, it was he who actually drove it into his chest.

  It was the most terrible moment of my life. I could break every bone in my body and nothing would feel as bad as that blade in my hand as I shoved it into the heart of my fated mate.

  He stiffened, not even gasping.

  For me.

  He wouldn’t show pain for me.

  Somehow, I knew it.

  Because of my visions, we assumed I'd been the one to do it. But I hadn't seen our hands clearly. Hadn't realized this would be what happened.

  But Tarron had realized. He’d done it.

  As he sagged, I screamed, so enraged and grief-stricken that I couldn’t hold it in anymore. As the life faded from him, magic exploded out from his body. So much power that it slammed me off my feet.

  Barely conscious, I sprawled on the ground, staring up at the flame that began to die down.

  I gasped hard, raggedly, refusing to pass out. I crawled to him. Through bleary vision, I spotted the other Fae falling. The blast knocked them unconscious. I fought it with all I had, using every bit of my Dragon Blood strength. I wouldn’t be unconscious for Tarron’s last seconds on earth.

  All around, the flames died. His magic extinguished them in a heartbeat. They faded a few feet before they reached the sky platform. The town turned black instead of orange with flame.

  I could no longer see the queen, but I didn’t care what happened to her.

  I had to get to Tarron.

  Impossibly weak, I clawed my way across the ground. His magic still blasted out of him, a golden glow that made my very bones shake.

  No.

  This couldn’t be.

  I grew weaker and weaker as I crawled toward him. Somehow, my life was seeping from me. I could feel it as I grew colder.

  I’m dying.

  I didn’t understand how—the blast of his magic wasn’t supposed to kill those it hit, and I could feel the life all around us. The others were unconscious, but not dead.