Faerie Mage: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Vampire's Bane Book 1)

by Marian Maxwell

  Holy magic, she had forgotten how pretty fae are. Too bad they are murderers, rapists and all-around hellishly insane. She had no idea if this dude was going to bandage her wounds, chop her up and cook me, or try…something else. They were in the wild, not one of Faerie’s cities where the laws would have saved her.

  Oh master high and mighty. Oh powerful magi. Your apprentice is about to die. Or something.

  And? came the reply.

  So he can hear me. Mona backed away from the fae with her hands low, palms in his direction. He stepped onto the hilltop and continued leisurely walking toward me, buck naked in the full light of the sun. Despite her predicament, a blush crept up Mona’s face. “Woah there,” she said. What am I doing, talking to a horse? Open the damn waygate, Kelendril!

  DID YOU JUST CALL ME A HORSE.

  Mona would have facepalmed at her idiocy had her life not been possibly seconds away from ending. Oh yea, forgot to mention: this fae was brimming to the ears with magic. Wild magic. The kind of stuff Mona would literally kill to learn. Hitting him with her biggest, baddest spell would be like smacking an elephant with a fly swatter.

  Fae dude paused and cocked his head. He said a word that sounded like a musical note and two birds landed on his horns. Mona cracked a nervous, lopsided grin, and he copied it exactly. It was the creepiest thing Mona had ever seen. Then he spoke another note and the grass writhed around her feet, wrapped her legs and held her in place. Mona gulped hard, heart beating a million beats a minute as the grass slid up her thighs and squeezed tight.

  You have to understand that she had been training in the Academy since the age of nine. Her entire loser life revolved around magic, vengeance, and kick-assery. She never had time for boys, and her sexually frustrated body was steaming for a chance to get laid.

  Or is that the fae’s magic playing with my mind?

  The fae studied Mona with wildcat eyes from an arms length away. He held out a closed hand, obviously expecting her to do something. Mona blinked, having not the slightest idea about fae etiquette. She cupped two hands together as if to pool water in them. Apparently this was acceptable because the fae dropped what he had been holding into her palm. It looked like a seed.

  “What is it?” Mona softly asked.

  The fae wrinkled his nose. “Quenen.” He struggled to say the word. It came out gibberish.

  He suddenly looked back over one of his shoulders. One of his ears twitched. His nose flared as it picked up a scent.

  He turned back to Mona. “Qooen,” he insisted.

  Pissing him off was the last thing Mona wanted to do. She smiled and nodded dumbly.

  The fae frowned and put his hands on either side of her head. Claws extended from his fingers, gouging her skin and securing his grip on her skull. He stepped right up to her and looked deep into her eyes. His breath came hot and sweet against her face.

  “Quean.”

  His brow remained furrowed in fierce concentration as he searched Mona’s face for a reaction. She smiled, trying to ignore…well, just about everything.

  “Yes, queen,” Mona cooed, as if congratulating a child. “Good.”

  The fae’s claws retracted. He put his hands on Mona’s and closed them around the seed, then pushed her into the circle of statues.

  The runes had been reactivated, and began to sizzle. It was finally over.

  Mona slumped to the ground and sat with her head on her knees. Her shoulder throbbed in pain. The adrenaline from fighting the demons began to fade, leaving lethargy and weariness.

  A cool breeze tussled her short, straight black hair. A familiar tingle ran up her spine. She looked up to see the fae one last time, but he was gone.

  6

  “You smell disgusting.”

  Mona blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the Academy examination room. Tall oak bookshelves lined three of the four walls. A thick, embroidered carpet covered the stone floor. Surrounding her were runes cut into the stone, identical to the ones on the statues back in Faerie. Kelendril stood by the window, gazing down on the courtyard with a wistful expression on his face. He wore a midnight blue doublet to match his eyes. His dirty blonde hair hung in long, impeccably groomed locks to the base of his neck.

  “Six demons,” Mona seethed, staggering over to his couch. “Six. Bloody. Demons, you asshole.” She prepared to flop down and rest her exhausted body when the couch slid ten feet across the hardwood floor.

  “No, not on the leather,” said Kelendril, alarm plain across his face. He turned back to the window.

  Mona rolled her eyes and stomped over to a nearby chair, hitting the floor with her heels in the way that Kelendril hated. It gave her some satisfaction to a see a wrinkle of annoyance briefly crease his perfect face.

  Kelendril was a Master of the Academy and had been Mona’s mentor since she was thirteen. He was also a vain bastard who flirted shamelessly with girls a quarter of his miserable old age. Spells seemed to roll off his fingers and tongue effortlessly. Like many people, Mona had assumed his skill was entirely due to his mixed blood. You wanted to believe that someone so preening and arrogant could only have lived a charmed life. The lightning scars ribboning his hands and the permanent limp hobbling his every step told the truth: he was one of the toughest magi in the human world. The medals awarded to him in the last Fae War proved as much. He had every reason to be arrogant, which made it even worse.

  The first assignments Kelendril had given Mona included: chanting incantations upside down whilst he threw books at her head, learning to properly run, jump and fight with a blade, and the mind-numbing memorization of all manner of plants, beasts, and magical factions. Mona had wondered what in the hells she had gotten herself into. She had come to the Academy to learn how to make things go kablooey, not to become an acrobatic herbalist. But she devoted herself to the tasks at hand, and after two years of “basics,” Kelendril began to show her spells. That was when the real training had started.

  “So you’re alive,” Kelendril mused, sounding only half aware of their conversation. He popped a sweet into his mouth, glanced over at Mona and sighed. “My trial continues.”

  Whatever. Screw his theatrics. Mona had put up with them for so long that they rarely got under her skin anymore. She lay flat on the floor and closed her eyes. She wanted to go back to her dormitory and take a long, warm bath. With bubbles. But the examination was not over until Kelendril said it was over. “You almost killed me,” she said.

  “Mhm.”

  “I mean it. There was a fae.”

  “Was it six demons? I swear I only sent five…” Kelendril shrugged and drifted off again into the land of buxom first years doing calisthenics. Once Mona’s words sunk in, he jolted upright and spun to face her.

  “Fool!” There was real anger on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I did tell you.” Wait…had I? With everything that happened, it was hard to remember. Mona decided to trust her gut instinct and make her mentor feel as guilty as possible.

  “I said, ‘Open the waygate, there’s a fae about to kill me!’” Mona faked a shiver and gave him puppy eyes. “He was…he was going to…” She looked to the floor, just unable to continue.

  She had Kelendril’s full attention. His eyes lit up with a devilish light. “Yes?” he impatiently prompted. He took a seat on a stool, giving her the rapt attention of a schoolboy at a burlesque show. “Go on. What was he going to do?”

  Mona grabbed a book from a nearby table and flung it at Kelendril’s face. He raised a hand, halting the book midair, and directed it into a slot in a bookshelf against the wall.

  Kelendril clucked his tongue. “How am I ever going to find you a husband when you keep on with this brutish behavior? Try to have a sense of decorum.” Mona glared daggers at him. “Now, tell me. Was there a fae, or was there not.”

  Mona nodded, gulping as she pictured the fae slowly walking toward her. His long legs…

  “Did he touch you? Did you eat anythin
g he gave you?”

  Right, fae food is basically a roofie. Powerfully enchanted stuff. “No,” Mona replied. “Well, yes. He did touch me.”

  Before she could continue, Kelendril was out of his chair and hoisting her up by the arm. She winced at the pain in her shoulder. The pauldron the sleg had latched onto was a tattered mess, sticky with Mona’s blood and demon drool.

  She stood awkwardly as Kelendril inspected her gums, rapped her spine with his knuckles, cast a spell, stood back and stared at her forehead. Evidently there were many things that could happen from fae touch alone.

  “He gave me this.” Mona held out the seed in the palm of her hand.

  Kelendril’s eyes went wide. A sharp intake of breath hissed between his teeth. He grimaced, clenching his jaw.

  “Do not move.” He said each word slowly, precisely, then teleported out of the room.

  “Uh, sure,” Mona muttered. It’s not like she had been carrying this thing for the past ten minutes or anything. How dangerous could it be? She was in the Academy, after all, which had to be one of the safest places in all of San Francisco.

  Only one percent of the population is magically gifted, and only fifty percent of gifted can do more than start a small fire. The Academies had been built for that one tenth of one percent. Thanks to wealthy sponsors, students attended free of cost. But they were under careful watch, and harshly punished if they showed any signs of going renegade. You know, like becoming an evil sorceress and plotting to take over the world. That kind of thing.

  Mona looked down at the seed. It was almond shaped, the length of her thumb, and colored in bands of dark green and brown. Its surface was smooth to touch, and looking at it closer she saw that it was covered in tiny scales, like those on a fish or a snake.

  She nearly jumped out of skin when it wriggled.

  Mona held herself back from calling to Kelendril and watched the seed with wary eyes.

  The demons back on the hilltop, those she knew about. They were deadly and savage, yes, but predictable. She could stab them with something hard and sharp, blast them with spells, outsmart them. She had no idea where this thing in her hand had come from, or what it was capable of doing. It had never come up in any of her lessons, meaning it was far enough beyond her to not even be worth mentioning. If it made Kelendril nervous, that meant she was dead meat.

  Mona’s wrist itched. She looked to it, and before she could react a line of blood trickled from her arm into her palm.

  The seed absorbed her blood like a sponge.

  Mona freaked out and wiped her arm to stop more blood from reaching the seed, but it was too late. The seed burned hot, searing her skin. She dropped it to the floor, where it took root and began to grow.

  Literally took root.

  The floorboards of the examination room groaned and twisted as the seed’s roots dug into the wood and expanded across the floor.

  “Shit, shit, shit.” Mona did not want to be around when Kelendril got back. She winced as a root tendril wrapped the leg of the leather couch she had been eying and proceeded to take it over.

  The roots reached the wall and grew over the bookshelves, trapping the books inside. They stopped about halfway to the ceiling. Buds appeared along the roots and quickly sprouted into small black leaves. Then everything stopped and settled.

  In the time of ten heartbeats, the seed had turned into an oval the size of a small stove. A layer of wide leaves had been added during the transformation, partially covering the dark brown and green scales. It looked like a cross between a flower bud and an egg. A red glow pulsed from within.

  “Hey, Mona. Where did…” Zyzz stopped mid-stride in the threshold of the door leading to the outer hall. A wolf shifter, he wore nothing but baggy shorts on Academy grounds. He ran a hand through his long hair and took in the mess she had made. “What the hells did you do?” he asked.

  I waved an arm, showing off the room. “Behold: how Mona got herself expelled.”

  7

  Zyzz closed the door and came over. “You’re hurt.” He looked Mona up and down with a serious expression. “We’re going to the infirmary.”

  “I’m not leaving this thing,” she said, sitting with her back against the wall. “I’m already in enough trouble as it is.”

  Zyzz ignored what Mona said and squatted down in front of her. “Turn,” he ordered, touching her shoulder.

  Too exhausted to argue, Mona obeyed and let him reach behind her left shoulder. His large hands ran over her back, found the clasp of her armor and unlocked it.

  “You need to give me a massage one of these days,” Mona groaned. She was beginning to relax now that Zyzz was here. He was reliable, and as good a friend as someone with her hectic training schedule could have. Apart from the Masters, he was also the toughest shifter in the Academy. She closed her eyes and relaxed against the wall, letting Zyzz handle her body as he took off her battered armor.

  Zyzz snorted. “Let’s see about getting you fixed up first,” he replied.

  Zyzz and Mona had fooled around once before. It was last year, at the end of the semester when tensions were high. They had been full of anxious energy and found an outlet in each other. It was only by chance that they had both decided to walk the Academy grounds that night. After, they had been so busy with examinations that they never found time to talk. Weeks turned into months, and then it became too awkward to bring up.

  Mona’s leather armor slid off her body and clattered to the floor. Zyzz picked it up easily with one hand and examined the holes where the demon’s fangs had pierced through. He frowned and shook his head in disapproval.

  Her undershirt was ripped and soaked in blood from the demon’s attacks. He lifted it slightly to get a better look at her wound. “It’s fine, Zyzz,” Mona said, before he could comment on the damage the demon had inflicted. “Look,” she rolled her shoulder to show it wasn’t broken, holding her breath against the pain. Trickles of blood ran down her shoulder and over her chest.

  “You should go to the Headmaster,” said Zyzz. “He can put a stop to this.”

  “What, the thingy over there?” Mona asked, tilting her head at the egg.

  “You know what I’m talking about. What Kelendril puts you through is not training. It’s abuse.”

  “Oh? What is it then?”

  Zyzz clenched his jaw and said nothing.

  Mona rolled her eyes. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

  “Yea, yea. I know,” said Zyzz. “Forget it. Let’s get out of here.”

  Mona stiffly rose to her feet. A groan nearly escaped her lips as she anticipated a long, hot bath back at her dormitory. After that, a cup of jasmine tea and reading until she fell asleep. The only good thing about being injured is that you have a legitimate excuse to relax. No 2AM surprise training sessions. Not for a couple of nights, anyway. Maybe enough time to finish my book, gods help me.

  Zyzz put an arm around Mona’s waist, as if she needed help putting one foot in front of the other. Granted, she had a slight limp, but she wasn’t that badly injured. Part of her wanted to growl at Zyzz to buzz off, yet she was glad to have his touch. She glanced at Zyzz’s rippling abs from the corner of her eye. The fact that this particular human was a 200 pound, 6’2 shifter with baby blue eyes and the body of a gladiator certainly helped with the warm fuzzies.

  The hallway outside Kelendril’s office had a high, vaulted ceiling and a lush red carpet. On the right, ornate wooden doors led to other offices, examination rooms and libraries. Gothic windows took up the other side of the hallway, providing a view of the courtyard and, in the distance, the edge of her dormitory. After nine years, the Academy felt like home. Mona’s blood dripping all over the carpet was nothing new. But now she was graduating, and it would all be left behind.

  “I need to graduate top of my class,” she told Zyzz, but talking more to herself.

  “You will.” Zyzz’s voice rumbled out of his chest, deep and assured. His bare skin radiated warmth, hot like a sunbeam w
here Mona’s shoulder touched the side of his chest.

  She was beginning to quite like the feel of his hand on her hip, and was wondering how she could make it a common feature in her life when the windows in the hallway shattered all over the carpet and wooden floor.

  Years of training at the Academy kicked in. Without thinking, Mona rolled away from the shards of glass, reached for her magic—and came up empty. The examination had gutted her of magical ability. It would be one or two days until she was back to full power.

  Great. I’m injured, out of magic and something is attacking the Academy. Exactly the moment I’ve been training for, and I’m next to useless!

  She cursed Kelendril’s name under her breath as a flock of winged demons flew through the broken windows and into the hallway. She reached for the hilt of her longsword, then remembered it was still on the hilltop in faerie. Damnit! That stupid fae had distracted her so much that she’d forgotten to retrieve it. With no other options, Mona drew her dagger and held it in the reverse grip that is best suited for close quarters fighting.

  The demons had the bodies of giant bats and the heads of lions. It was unnatural, even among demons. They reeked of the oily, brimstone scent that accompanied black magic. Whoever had spawned the foul creatures was a user of the dark arts. A dangerous enemy, and confident if he thought he could take on the Academy at its heart.

  A sound like grinding boulders shook the hallway. Mona winced and covered her ears. The sound went on an on, and she realized it was a roar. The pure force of it rattled her bones and sent the bat-lions reeling back. She turned around, expecting to come face to face with another demon. A mass of muscle and fur flashed past, sending her hair flying.

  Zyzz shifted.

  He was monstrous. His wolf ears brushed the top of the vaulted ceiling as he bounded toward their attackers, growling like a wild animal.

  Mona couldn’t see past the wall of short, black fur and bulging muscles ahead of her, but demons’ yelps came loud as Zyzz closed the distance. She followed close behind in a fighter’s crouch, knife held in front of her. The top of her head came up a little above Zyzz’s hip, and when she got close enough she peeked around his waist. She had his back, if nothing else.