by Zoe Parker
‘You are not taking on any more pain from this fat fuck today, Iza.’ Phobe sounds angry.
Leaning forward, I give him a wet kiss right on the cheek and then continue talking to the children. Reassuring them, treating them as gently as possible. I hold my hands out for the smallest child, a little boy. He’s two but so skinny that anyone will believe he’s younger. He looks up at me with eyes as blue as the brightest sky and smiles, displaying four very prominent canines.
“Hungry,” he demands quietly.
My heart melts into a puddle.
Sliding out of the van, I grab the door and rip it off. I fling it towards Montgomery, who’s cursing Auryn over his men being killed. So intent is he on her that he didn’t notice me at the van.
That was her intention.
“What would you like to eat, buddy?” I ask, moving his dirty hair out of his eyes.
He pats my cheek as only a child does and smiles. “Fat man.”
I smile at that. Then he looks at me all serious, his brows drawn down in concentration. “Mama?” he questions, and I feel the bottom of my stomach fall out.
Where is their mama?
“He will eat anything, including the fat man.” I look down at the oldest of the trio, who is now standing supporting her sister’s weight. “You are our Lady.” She says it in that voice all children use when confronted with something they are awed by.
She’s adorable.
The child’s beautiful face is marred with scars and bruises. Her head is bald, which is the equivalent of cutting off a limb to her kind. Blinking, I fight back the tears. Now that the Light Magiks are gone I can feel them strongly. And because they are young and have no guard against me, I can feel what’s come to pass.
All of it.
“Would you like some barbeque?” I carefully keep my voice low, letting my anger burn in my gut instead of my words.
I bounce the baby on my hip. It’s something I’ve seen women on TV do. He seems to like it. To keep my head cool, I focus on their faces. I know their names already, but I want them to tell me. It will help them feel a little better. People get uncomfortable when you know their name without asking them.
“What are your names?” I ask the trio.
“I am Lissa, and she’s Louise, and he’s Cadey.” Lissa’s got a strong presence to her. I can see how she’s struggling to have a calmness and maturity that she shouldn’t have at this age. “Our mother used to say that we’re named after our warrior ancestors.”
“Used to?” I ask, looking around at the condition of the van.
It’s disgusting. There’s a bucket in between the two front seats they used for personal needs—I can smell it. No sign of any food or water. The bedding is a single dirty blanket, and their clothes are stiff with filth and probably their waste.
“They killed her when they took us.” I don’t miss the glistening of tears in her eyes that she quickly blinks away.
Searching my brain, I remember there there’s no male parent. Fathers are chosen randomly from whatever creature the mother chooses to procreate with. Men are not kept on as mates; they are discarded after being used as sperm donors. Gorgons mate with other females of their kind for life.
Normally, though, they live in large family groups.
“Aunts?”
Lissa shakes her head no to my question.
“Mommy was the last of her clan.”
I pat her shoulder at those words. This child is too grown up for her age. I have to fix that.
My hair is playing with Cadey. It likes him. Then again, his hair has personality too. Mixed in with greasy, brown strands, little snakes are writhing around his head. None of them more than a couple inches long. They are similar to mine but look more like snakes than long bodies with teeth, like mine do. I smile at him, and when he smiles back, dimples appear on his cheeks. Man, he’s a beautiful baby.
He’s also one of the rarest Feyrie in existence, a male gorgon.
Gorgons are few and far between, even more so than lingires. Gorgon males are a myth. Here I stand holding, one in my arms, with two little girls standing beside me.
I don’t even mind that he just peed on me.
“I tell you what, let’s get you a snack to tide you over while we get you cleaned up. And then some yummy barbeque, and we’ll also roast some smores, how’s that?” I say, with a smile planted firmly on my face, while walking towards Nika, who I know will take them and get them cleaned up.
“Put them down this instant! Those slaves are my property!” Montgomery’s angry voice filters in through my chatter with the children as Phobe—mister monster himself—is helping me make sure they walk okay.
Dad chooses to pop in right at that moment.
“Never a dull moment, eh, Dove?” His eyes flash black when he looks at the kids. “I had a strong sense that you needed me.”
“Yeah, good instincts.”
“Okay, Cadey, this is my Dad. Will you go with him?” His lower lip pops out, and his blue eyes fill with fear. I smile in reassurance. “He’s a very nice man and he can do Magikal stuff. Can you keep a secret?”
All three of the kids lean closer. Children love secrets, even children as scarred as these. “I bet if you go with him and let him get you bathed and fed, he will show you how to make lightning.”
All three sets of identical blue eyes grow wide. “Boom!” Cadey exclaims, his little arms reaching out for Dad who takes him with a soft look in his black eyes.
“Goblins, I want them to have whatever their little hearts desire. They need to be bathe—they’re filthy, Nika,” I call to the dragon who’s mended my wounds and I know can mend theirs.
She’s been standing wringing her hands since the children’s presence was made known. Nika can be a bit bitchy but she can’t stand to see a child hurt. Being a healing dragon, anything in pain near her causes her stress.
At least anything that she’s kin to.
“My lord and I will care for them, my lady,” Nika says, taking the hand of the youngest girl, Louise.
The oldest surprisingly looks at me for guidance. Leaning down, I cup her soft cheek, a cheek with a big purple bruise covering it.
“You’re going to hurt them, aren’t you?” Lissa asks somberly.
Staring deep into her eyes, I remember a little bit more about gorgons. She smiles, exposing her sharp teeth. They’re bloodthirsty things, even at this age.
“Oh yes, sweetheart. I’m going to hurt them a lot.” Gently, I rub her bald head. I’m also going to try to find a way to get her hair grown back.
Lissa leans forward and kisses my cheek then hurries to catch up with Dad and Nika and her siblings. I watch them all go, noting the limp the smallest girl Louise has. Once they are out of sight, tucked into someone’s safe arms on their way to the house, I turn. The happiness fades off my face, replaced by fury. The Darkness wakes up.
I unleash the rage I’ve been holding in with a control I didn’t know I possessed.
My power fans out from me. Every Feyrie, except the children I carefully protect, can feel its burn. Feel it building more. This time I let them. I want them to. In Lissa’s haunted eyes I saw pain, horrors inflicted upon the child’s body and soul. Just like Knox, like Louise, like Cadey. The little girl that died while I was linked with her. All the ones I can’t save.
The hope in her eyes… It’s not the first time a child has looked at me like that. A wishful part of me hopes it’s the last time, but it won’t be.
I meet Phobe’s eyes, and his burn hot. He feels my rage the most, the strongest, and he will respond to it. And he will celebrate it.
Slowly, I turn around. Montgomery is so occupied with me, he hasn’t noticed the half-circle forming around him. Nor does he understand the anger I know he can feel.
My Feyrie stand silently, watching me, waiting for my judgment. Their angry eyes are a kaleidoscope of colors on cold and impassive faces. Even Ducard stands next to Alagard in the front, his face holding his fury.
�
�Your property?” I ask finally, responding to his demand from several minutes before.
His female companion struts up to me and stops a less than a foot away. I cross my arms and raise my chin. No spoiled twat is going to intimidate me, ever.
“Yes, our property. Bought and paid for,” she proclaims.
The bruise on Lissa’s face flashes through my mind. The size makes me pause. It’s too small to come from a man’s fist. My gaze falls on the riding crop in the woman’s hand, the welts I saw on little Cadey’s arm.
I don’t think it was just daddy dearest being a dick.
“Who are you exactly?” I ask forcing my face and voice calm.
“I am Lady Jiquelle de York, Daughter of Lord Montgomery de York, a senior council member. I am, quite frankly, your better and I expect my demands to be met this instant.”
I take a step towards her. Her demands?!
“I did try to warn you, Montgomery. But you refused to listen to me,” Ducard says, breaking the silence.
“This rabble cannot be the Lady. She has food on her shirt for God’s sake. And her hair, is moving with lice.” she dares let her hand get close to my moving hair.
She screams as her hand is engulfed in its bloodthirsty, black tendrils. She panics and her crop catches me right across the cheek. There’s a brief, biting sting and a few drops of warm blood trickle down my cheek.
It’s a minor irritation, nothing more—but not to Phobe. I feel his anger. She makes a choking sound as she’s lifted off her feet with his hand around her throat. She’ll die either way. My hair is venomous in whatever way it chooses to be.
“What is this foul Magiks? Release her!” Montgomery orders, but is ignored. I notice too, he does not attempt to help his flailing daughter. In fact, no one does.
I consider her bulging brown eyes. There’s nothing but greed and avarice in the woman, nothing in her to redeem. She’s beaten children for no other reason than she can. There’s simply no excuse for it and no mercy.
“You have a history of turning on your own, the both of you. I see that it doesn’t matter that you betrayed your King and enslaved the children of Feyrie,” I say, walking around Phobe. My eyes are on Jiquelle, my words for both father and daughter.
“I made a decision that saved my life and the life of my family,” Montgomery protests.
“Is that what you told yourself as you watched them executed, Monty?” He remains silent, his eyes watching me, full of anger. “Your former king was tortured because he refused to give out the names of his council members. But you rewarded his loyalty by spying for the schoth king.”
“Council members were being executed with him!” he argues vehemently.
“Then you should have been loyal and died,” I reply quietly, studying Jiquelle intently.
The woman’s brown eyes are full of fear, but it isn’t enough to sway me. I can picture the children’s eyes filling with something worse as they were beaten by this same woman. Beaten because they’re smaller and unable to fight back.
Phobe whispers information in my mind, showing how much he does indeed know this man.
“Your property was rather poor, your family line old but by no means wealthy. When the dark king fell, you suddenly had riches galore. You didn’t do it to save your family. You did it to line your pockets and keep yourself in comfort.” There’s no redemption for traitors who betray for riches. None for their traitorous offspring either. “No mercy! Her life is forfeit,” I announce, knowing exactly what her fate will be.
Phobe’s eyes darken to a more orangish color. I know for certain he won’t turn the woman’s life down. It calls him. This idiot girl has Magiks. Not much but enough.
“Go, Doughboy can’t hurt me, and you know it,” I reassure him.
His eyes soften just a little. Hunger then fills them and, with a chilling smile directed at Jiquelle, he vanishes. I know by the taste of his glamour that no one has else seen or heard us. Sneaky man, but right. Now is not the time for everyone to know who and what he is. Not yet. How did I not see it? It’s the main reason he didn’t feed on the guards.
Bastard is so smart sometimes.
“You can prove nothing.” Montgomery protests.
I turn to face him. “I don’t need to prove anything,” I say blandly, stepping closer to him. Walking in a small circle around him, I ask, “How did you get those children?” I poke at the mint green bowtie he’s wearing.
He has the nerve to insult my clothing, and he looks like someone from a cartoon. I snort.
In a shaky voice he answers, “I bought them fair and square. It is not illegal to purchase servants.”
I raise an eyebrow.
No, it’s not illegal to purchase a servant’s Bond Debt, if they’ve given it to someone as payment for something. But that’s not what he’s done at all. Children are forbidden from selling a Bond Debt.
“They’re children.” Which should say enough—but not for Montgomery. I watch it go right over his head.
“They are inferior.”
I lean towards him standing on my tip toes to get in his face. “Inferior to you?”
He nods and his second chin jiggles.
My temper’s very close to snapping, but I need information from him. And Phobe isn’t here to read his mind.
“So, tell me who did you buy them from? An associate that’s a Light Fey?” Montgomery’s now looking at me with a little fear in his beady brown eyes.
Just for a little longer, I tell my temper, fighting to keep myself calm.
“No, but his partner is,” he answers after a moment.
“Give me his name.” I bite out, my patience at an end.
Montgomery takes a step back from me, tripping over a basket. He hits the ground hard enough to jar him. As he sits there on his butt, looking stunned, he begins to sweat nervously as he swivels his head side to side looking for help.
Help won’t be coming for Monty.
I inhale loudly through my nose and say, “Can you all smell that?” I inhale again, smiling my toothy smile. “You smell like bacon cooking.”
I clasp my hands behind my back, looking down at him. All traces of niceness gone from me, all I can feel is that dark anger that’s causing my blood to heat, causing my hands to itch to strangle the very life out of the man at my feet.
“Now give me his name.” This time my voice deepens, and I let the scary Iza out. His eyes widen.
“His name is Henry. He is an imp who works with some schoth named Rickher or something like that. He’s gone into hiding because he heard your summons.” The words tumble out of him in a rush.
I file the name of the imp away for later—the schoth I already know well. I can’t wait to see him again too. This time, I’m not a prisoner.
“Are you not going to ask about the welfare of your daughter?” I ask, not surprised he’s a shitty parent, too.
“She can take care of herself.” In other words, he doesn’t care.
“Really? Way to be the father of the year, Monty.”
“The real Lady would not treat nobility in this fashion.”
I laugh at that statement, unable to help myself. Then my face sobers again. Nobility will be treated the same as every other Feyrie who comes. Of course, a good Feyrie wouldn’t be on the ground sweating in fear. In fact, I’d still be eating barbeque.
But Monty isn’t that kind of Feyrie.
“Have you ever met a Nightmare, scaredy piggy?”
He shakes his head no. Sweat pours down his face and soaks the front of his shirt. “They don’t exist.” His voice is small, unsure.
“Adriem, what’s your favorite food?” I ask the silent presence directly behind me.
The youthful-looking Nightmare comes to stand beside me, watching Montgomery with a hungry look in his reptile green eyes.
“Bacon, my lady.” Adriem answers, with a toothy smile.
Montgomery’s face pales, going straight to white. I can see he remembers my bacon comment.
> “You—you’re the real Lady?” Monty stutters, seeing the truth of it now, feeling it.
“Why yes, yes I am. Do you wanna know what you are Monty?” He nods his head, hesitantly. “For the rape of that little girl, you’re dinner.”
I look at Adriem, who is practically salivating. The clearing is full of carnivores, none who are above or below eating an imp. Some traditions you should stick with. There are those that will call us evil creatures. Judge us for their ways, beliefs. But each one of the Feyrie around me, except Montgomery, holds children sacred, very sacred. The gorgon kid’s faces come to mind.
I let more of the Darkness out.
My claws grow, and I hear the hum of my hair because it's wanting to taste his blood. Yes, to some we are savages, but not to me. My Feyrie, my monsters, are beautiful. Lashing out with my hand, I feel his skin part beneath them, feel the hot blood hit my face.
He screams.
Staring down at his face, smiling, I can see all the way to the bone. The crowd moves closer as the smell of fresh blood hits the air.
“I condemn you to death, Montgomery De Yuck, death by Feyrie.”
Beside me Adriem’s shape starts to morph and twist. And in his place… well, all over the place stands a freaking dinosaur.
A tyrannosaurus rex to be exact. Ha, I knew he smelled kind of like a dragon.
“All right big guy, you get a bite, but save some for the others.”
Lowering his head, he sniffs at the sniveling Monty. I swear Adriem is laughing when he bites him in half.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Phobe
“She’s been like that for well over an hour,” Auryn answers the question in my gaze as it rests on Iza.
She is sitting at the edge of the dock with her feet dangling over the water, staring out into its depths. Her thoughts are completely hidden from me, and I know she is deliberately keeping them that way. She is putting considerable effort into it.
It always makes me nervous when she does it. Since she died, I do not trust it. Paranoid is the term they use—she makes me paranoid.
I slip silently down beside her and slide towards her, sitting close enough to feel her body heat. All the chaotic emotions rolling around in me calm at this small contact with her.