by Izzy Shows
"No, no, I think not. I would much rather see what you are made of, your human side. Fight me with your fists."
"That is hardly a fair fight," I said.
"It was never going to be fair. But if you wish it, I too will fight with one hand. And I swear not to touch your injured arm," it said.
"Why do you want a fist fight?" I was trying to avoid it, but I was beginning to see it would be my only option. I had never one in a fist fight against a supernatural entity without the aid of my magic, and I didn't think that was about to change now.
"I told you. I want to see what your human side is made of."
Why did he keep saying that, my human side? Something to think on later, if there was a later left for me to think about anything. I nodded my head, and that was the only assurance the Utakar needed it.
It leapt at me, and it was all I could do to block its first punch—it wasted no time, going straight for my throat. I caught its wrist on my forearm, twisting to the side and knocking it away. Gods, but the pain I felt when our arms met, it felt like I had taken an iron pipe and not a regular blow.
I swept one foot out, which seemed to catch the Utakar by surprise as it fell to the ground. I followed it up with an immediate kick to the ribs, followed by one to the head.
My second kick did not find purchased, the Utakar grabbed my foot—true to its word, with one hand—twisted, and yanked me to the ground. I barely managed not to scream as I went down, rolling to land on my right side at the last minute. I kicked my foot free, now managing to land one blow to the Utakar's head, and scrambled away.
I was still on my knees when it was on its feet though, and it came at me, slamming a fist into my face. I took the hit on my cheek, and this time I did let out the scream of pain that rose to my lips as I heard the cracking sound that no doubt meant it had broken my cheek bone. There was no reason not to, I reasoned, no reason to hide what it was doing to me.
An open palm slammed into the side of my head.
I had to get up.
A downed Wizard is a dead Wizard.
But I couldn't, every time I tried to rise to my feet, it beat me back down. Again, and again, and again. It went on this way for Gods only know how long, before the Utakar wrapped its hand around my throat, squeezing tightly until the edges of the world began to fade into blackness, my vision tunnelling.
"I could squeeze the life from you right now, and there would be nothing you could do about it," it said, though it seemed to be more of a thought spoken aloud than anything else.
I coughed, the only response I was capable of. I kept my eyes trained on the Utakar, refusing to be cowed. Refusing to be anything other than who I was, even in death.
Fred is going to be so mad, I thought, and that brought me more pain than any blow the Utakar could have delivered.
"But I won't."
Surprise flicked through me, along with the tiniest flame of hope. And then a surging tidal wave of terror. Because if it wasn't going to kill me...
"Where would the fun be in that? No, I am going to bring hell to your days. You're right, I offered you peace, but you spat in my face. Now, I will give you hell. You will rue the day you ever looked upon me. You will rue the day you were born."
And then it threw me back so that I flew across the room, skidding in my torn dress, and burning my shoulder blades against the marble of the floor.
I failed.
46
I heard the sounds of the Fae filing back into the hall, but I remained kneeling on the floor. I could taste the blood in my mouth, feel it running down my cheeks from split skin, I was aware of the dampness on my forehead of blood and sweat mingling together. Yet, I processed all of this with the kind of dull awareness of someone looking at a scene through a window—it didn't feel real. I didn't feel real.
I failed.
The words echoed throughout my head. My hand, no longer clenched into a fist, shook at my side. Soon, my entire body was trembling and I fell forward, catching my body with my one free hand. How could I have let this happen?
Inflated sense of self-worth. You're pathetic. Look what you've done. You let everyone down. Worthless. The litany of self-abuse kept up, and I did nothing to stop it. What did it matter?
"Blair?"
I heard Kailan's voice behind me, and it was all I could do to shake my head. I didn't want to see anyone, didn't want anyone to see me. "Go away," I said, my voice hoarse.
He touched my shoulder, his fingers brushing gently against my skin. "It's OK, Blair. No one blames you."
"I do," I said. I blamed myself, and I knew that it was well and truly deserved. I failed. I failed everyone. The Utakar had won, and rather than kill me...it hadn't even thought me worthy of death in battle. It knew how pathetic I was and it had left me here to simmer in that knowledge. Well, that was exactly what I planned on doing.
I failed. I failed. I failed.
A Sidhe entered my field of vision, crouched in front of me. She had kind, sympathetic eyes. Her hair was loose about her shoulders, and she appeared untouched by the violence that had been visited upon the hall. What a sight we must have made—the perfect Sidhe and the broken human. She reached out and touched my face, shaking her head as tears welled in her eyes.
"What you did for us will not be forgotten," she said.
I didn't understand her. Oh, sure, her words were spoken in English, though heavily accented, but they didn't make any sense. I did nothing. I accomplished nothing.
I was nothing.
All I could do was blink dully, my eyes not quite focusing on her. I watched as her hazy figure looked up at Kailan.
"You should take her home." I heard her say, and I agreed with her. Take me home so that I could lie in bed and starve myself, because I was no longer worthy of life.
I heard the sounds of Kailan kneeling beside me, felt his arm wrap under my right shoulder and around my torso. He lifted me to my feet, which dragged beneath me for a moment as my legs wobbled, unsteady. I found purchase on the floor, though, determined not to look so weak.
What did it matter, though? I was weak. Everyone had seen how truly weak I was.
"We're going to get you home, your friend’s going to take another look at you, everything's OK," Kailan said. I could hear how concerned he was.
"Kill me," I said, though I knew enough to keep my words quiet so that the other Fae could not hear me.
I heard his sharp intake of breath; oh, he had heard me. Good.
"You cannot mean that, Blair. You survived."
"You saw, Kailan. They might not have seen, they might not know how bad it was, but you saw. You saw me fail."
"I saw you fight for people you didn't know, that you owed no allegiance to. I saw how brave you were, how determined to keep everyone safe, that you were willing to sacrifice yourself for strangers you met a mere hour or so before. You did not fail, Blair. You kept us safe."
I shook my head, but I didn't have the energy to fight with him. I had used it all up pouring out so much raw magic from my body with the fight, and then every ounce of my willpower had been sapped from me when the Utakar had refused to kill me.
Who am I if not the Hunter, the Defender? I am no one and nothing.
He helped me hobble out of the hall, all of the Fae watching silently as I went. Their eyes remained trained on me as we went, and I saw the same terrible sympathy in each set of eyes that I dared to meet as we walked.
I didn't want their sympathy. I wanted their hatred, their anger. Something to match what was raging inside of me, because I couldn't be the only one so disappointed in me.
I allowed Kailan to lead me in silence until we reached the forest, as beautiful as it had been when we had arrived, though it seemed muted now. As if the trees themselves knew and did not want to push me too far. They did not reach down to touch my hair now.
"Can you give me my clothes back?"
"What?"
"My clothes. I want them back. I don't...I can't wear this," I
said, not wanting to explain why.
Unworthy.
He paused, bringing both of us to a halt, and then I felt the warmth wash through me again, and a moment later I stood in my normal jeans and long sleeve shirt, my jackets on top of me. My clothes were miraculously untouched, though the dress had been all but shredded in the fight. I was thankful for that, at least.
"I'm sorry," I said, as we began to walk again.
"For what?"
"Failing."
He sighed. "I've tried to explain to you once already, Blair, you did not fail."
"I'm sure that's not what the others think."
"You know what the others think? They think you fought for them for no reason. They think they are indebted to you for turning the Utakar's ire away from them, and not all of them are happy about that. The Fae do not like to owe anyone. You were very Fae-like back there, you know. Making a deal. You ensured we would be free of the Utakar, though you also ensured your own pain. You're going to need to be careful now, of everyone you meet. The Utakar will trick and torture you, play games with you, before it even thinks about killing you."
"I know. It promised me a life of hell," I said. Sighing, I shook my head. "But what's really new about that?" I tried to smile but it came out a grimace instead.
Kailan didn't seem to have anything to say to that, so we kept walking.
Just as we reached the bridge the air in front of us began to shimmer, and a man took form in front of us. But he was no ordinary man. He was easily seven feet tall, wearing a green robe, with a deer skull cover his face, and antlers that stretched far out and above his head.
I felt so small in front of him, but instinct told me that I needed to run, to hide, to be anywhere else. Kailan immediately knelt, tugging me down as he went.
"Kailan," he said, his voice booming throughout the forest and all but shattering my eardrums. "You should have come to me the moment you knew the Utakar was upon us. This all might have ended differently. Now, you have put your punishment on a mortal."
I glanced at Kailan in time to see his face burning with embarrassment.
What could I do?
I stood. "Uh, sir, mister...Fae," I said, stammering a bit. I didn't know who he was. He looked at me, cocking his head to the side. I took it as a gesture of bemusement, but he didn't stop me, so I pushed on. "It was my decision to become involved, and my decision to make a deal with the Utakar. It's not Kailan's fault."
"I have heard of you, Blair Sheach," he said, but he did not expound on that. "Thank you for watching over my kin. Should you have need of us, the Wylde Fae will answer your call."
My eyes widened and my mouth gaped open, I didn't know what to say, but thankfully I didn't have to say anything. The man was gone as quickly as he had come.
"Who was that?" I turned to Kailan the moment he disappeared.
"Herne," he said, his face having changed from bright red to pale as death.
"Oh, OK. Cool. Oh, Gods." I sat down, lifting my good hand to rest against my head as I thought about what had just happened. He might not call himself King, but he was the leader of the Wylde Fae, and he'd as good as said he owed me one.
What in bloody hell had I got myself into with this one?
I had failed, I shouldn't be owed any favors.
The Fae are bloody strange.
47
Kailan had taken me as far as the bridge in Tír na nÓg, but it was my job to get me home once I was back on Earth. I understood that; he didn't want to be on Earth a moment more than was necessary now that his self-imposed banishment was done. I wouldn't want to be on Earth if Tír na nÓg was my home, either. But it wasn't, Earth was, and I found I was looking forward to being back in my home with Fred.
My spirits lifted at the thought of Fred. He wasn't going to have to be upset after all, I was coming home to him again.
The drive home was difficult, what with being as beat up as I was, but I was grateful to be sitting down and not walking anymore. My legs felt like they'd been run over, and I was limping very badly when I walked.
So, it was when I got out of my car and limped the rest of the way to my door. I was just about to open it when I noticed a letter sticking out from the bottom. I frowned and bent to pick it up.
It had no return address, and it didn't even have my address on it. Just my name in flowing script. I struggled to open it, the envelope dropping to the ground once the letter was freed.
MISS SHEACH,
It has come to our attention that you are unlawfully practicing magic in the city of London. We shall come for you on the morrow. Failure to comply shall be taken as an admission of guilt and is punishable by death.
GREGOR Reznik
Commander of The First Hand
The First Order
Book five is coming soon!
Want a free book? Sign up for my VIP list to get The Fallen’s Crime for FREE! Subscribe now!
ALSO BY IZZY SHOWS
THE CODEX BLAIR SERIES
Grave Mistake
Blood Hunt
Dark Descent
Wild Game
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Izzy Shows writes urban fantasy novels for adults, and much more in her spare time. She’s also an avid LARPer and enjoys storytelling in all art forms. She can be a little cooky, and really enjoys talking about her works, writing in general, or all things fantasy. To learn more about her you can follow her on twitter or check out her website.
@izzyshows
izzyshowsauthor
IzzyShows.com
[email protected]
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Mailing List
Also by Izzy Shows
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Also by Izzy Shows
About the Author