by Zoe Parker
The connections are weird like that with shifters. I have to awaken their Marks. Initially, they’re not nearly as strong as the other Feyrie. Even the shifters in the shadows are dormant—although not all the shifters are really what they’re claiming to be. But I’ll deal with those when I get to them.
‘Iza.’
Oh, my attention wandered. I refocus on the shifter.
“All right, then. So he’s too fucking lazy to come here?” I ask.
He barely hides his surprise.
Good, I hit a button. I learned over the years if you hit the right buttons, you get the right information. Or a fistfight. Depends on whose buttons you push and how hard.
I’m good with either.
The shifter gathers his composure quickly and says, “Since he’s the Alpha, he will expect appropriate accommodations to be made.”
Squinting at his face, I finally see the beast just under his skin. Definitely a wolf.
“Well, hate to tell you, but he’ll receive the same accommodations as every other person coming here.” My answer once again surprises him.
This is too fun.
“You will not give him the special treatment he ranks as Alpha?” his asks, his voice thick.
“As I said, he’ll get the same as every other.”
Smelling leather, I look at his clothing for the first time. I have been dazing out. He’s wearing a leather tie and a cowboy hat. Oh, hell they’re that type—good old boys.
Chewing on my lip to hide my smile, I fight to keep the serious face on. This is going to be entertaining.
“Would it not be better if I speak to her myself?” he asks.
Oh, so he’s trying to see me in person—probably to try and see how big a threat I am. Won’t it be a riot if he knew he’s talking to me now? I have to fight harder to keep the smile off my face. This glamour thing is wonderful.
“I don’t think so. But I’ll make sure the message gets passed on as soon I go inside,” I say, keeping the humor out of my voice, or at least trying to.
His frustration is clear in his eyes and body posture.
“He is to come to your Lady equal to everyone else?”
Chewing on my cheek to keep a straight face, I nod. Wow, he is having a really hard time with accepting that. I see on his face the minute he does, at least enough to pass on the message.
He nods his big head and steps back, then turns and walks calmly away. I watch, unsurprised, as other shadows detach themselves and follow closely behind him. Good, I managed to handle that rather well. No one died or insulted me. It also helps that I was talking to someone who knows when the conversation is over.
I watch them until they disappear into the trees.
“You do like to push them, Iza.” Phobe’s softly spoken words pull me out of my thoughts.
Thoughts he eavesdropped on. The wall of blue doesn’t work anymore. Nothing works anymore. Jerk.
“I’m not dancing to their tune. He’s no different than any other Feyrie.” I made up my mind about it, and I’m not planning on changing it anytime soon.
“You are choosing to handle the shifters with aggression,” he points out.
I frown, thinking about it. Perhaps I am indeed.
“I don’t think they’d respect me at all if I turned belly up and tried to ass-kiss them to death. My gut tells me this is the right way.”
I look at him through my lashes and say, ‘Would you like some aggression?’
He chuckles at my words and tosses a paintbrush at my head that I barely catch.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Iza
I’ve gotten into the habit of sneaking out at night, alone. Or mostly alone. I can’t say I’m ever truly alone, but I need room to breathe. I need to think.
So, I used every trick I possess to ditch my wannabe guards and Phobe. I can’t feel him out there, so I’m assuming I pulled it off.
Tonight, my mood is morose, and since sleep isn’t happening, I wanted to walk.
My brilliant idea didn’t include an actual destination. After walking around aimlessly for hours, I ended up parking myself on a bench in the park. Watching TV on my phone, which isn’t helping at all.
Humans are just as cruel as the schoth.
When I first woke on Earth, I assumed that humans were delicate and fragile like the ones I met in prison. And they are, but that doesn’t stop them from being monsters in their own right.
Horrible ones. The TV and the Google God show me everything on them. The atrocities they’ve visited upon each other are just as bad as any the schoth have perpetuated. Here they have bombs that can wipe out entire countries. All it takes is a button push and boom, everyone is dead. Where is the honor in that? I wouldn’t even do that to the schoth, and everyone knows how I feel about them.
I turn the phone off and slump down on the bench. Did I call people to a doomed world? Did I—Christ, what the hell am I doing? Why did I start looking at my phone anyhow? It made my mood worse.
“They don’t sell drugs here anymore.” The voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
On the bench, across the walkway from me, sits a man dressed in a fluffy orange coat covered in layers of dirt. The smell of him informs me it’s not just dirt. His brown hair is a tangled and messy crown around his head, with what looks like clumps of dirt in it. His beard is scraggly and grayed in some places.
But those eyes of his are a vivid blue that reminds me of the sky early in the morning. Familiar eyes—but I’m pretty sure I’ve never met him before.
“Drugs? What drugs?” I answer, after staring at him for far too long.
I know the literal meaning of the word, but why would I come to the park to get drugs? Humans make no sense. Drugs are used to treat illnesses; I have no illnesses.
“You don’t wanna get high?”
High? Frowning I stare at him what can he—oh, I get it now.
“No, I’m not here for drugs. I came here to look at the stars.”
“So, you’re a hippy?” he says, digging around in the garbage can beside him. He pulls out a food container of some type.
“No. I just like the sky. I wasn’t able to see it for a long time.” I don’t know why I share this with him, but there’s no real harm in it. He’s not going to tell anyone, I mean, he’s going to eat an old salad he got out of the garbage can.
“They lock you away in the loony bin too? I spent five weeks in there last year,” he asks.
“Something like that.”
He smiles at me, exposing the fact he is missing several of his front teeth. Which makes me smile back at him. He doesn’t care about superficial things. What an interesting human.
“What’s so heavy on your mind?” he asks, sniffing his dinner. Then he takes a big bite of the goop.
I opt for honesty. “I’m the Shepherd to a Magikal race of creatures from another realm who have come here to grow and build an army to stand up to the schoth when they come here. I’m totally not equipped to do this shit but it’s my supposed destiny, and it sucks balls.” After my speech, I take a drink of the bottled water sitting beside me on the bench.
He stares at me a minute, chewing his browned lettuce, then laughs.
“You sure you’re not here for drugs?”
“If they’d work, I’d probably take them. So why do you live out here?”
“Drugs, of course. But I’ve been clean for ten years now. Just can’t climb your way back out sometimes.” He begins to lick the container the salad was in.
I know what it’s like to be that hungry. I stand up and stretch and walk over to him.
“So, no more drugs? What about booze?” He shakes his head at my questions. I toss a wad of cash at him. “Go get a proper coat and some real food. No reason for you to be cold tonight, right?”
“I’ve learned in my life that people are chosen to do things for a reason, so remember that nothing is ever as bad as it seems. People surprise you. I hope you win your war,” he says, as he grabs the money
and shuffles off.
Yeah, buddy, me too.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Iza
Waiting on the crosswalk light to turn green to cross the street, I stare at the name of the store lit up in red neon lettering across from me.
Moleville Exterminators.
The name of this town always amuses me. There are a bunch of supernatural creatures living in a town called Moleville. They should change their high school football team to Moleville Monsters. It has a ring to it—versus their current one, the Moleville Diggers. I get the play on words and all, but aren’t their sports teams supposed to be intimidating?
Speaking of school… The kids need a teacher to homeschool them. I can’t risk sending them to a real school. In this country, all kids are required to have schooling. The last thing in the world I need is to draw more attention from the—speaking of humans.
The bag getting pulled over my head is only a little bit of a surprise. The smell of garlic coming from the man wielding it kind of gave it away a little early.
Oh, this is fantastic. I’m being kidnapped, like in the movies! The canvas bag over my head even smells.
At the last second, I decide to let them take me without a fight. It’s not too hard of a decision; they enacted this elaborate kidnapping for a reason. Besides the fact that someone closer than Kael or fluff brains betrayed me and knew I snuck out alone.
Unless they don’t know who they have? That’s entirely possible. And it makes things more fun—for me anyhow. I’m never actually alone. The Fiends, my constant companions, are very unhappy with my current situation.
I grunt as I’m tossed into some vehicle. I hope it’s a van, which will add to the experience. I can tell Phobe—uh-oh. A sudden sharp prick of pain right in my upper hip draws a curse word out of me. Did they just stick me with a needle?
My lips go numb. Sweating I push my body to fight the sedative. Because I’ve seen enough TV to know that’s what it is. Wow, it has a bit of a bite to it. But their human drugs won’t work on me like they’re supposed to.
Distractedly, I feel the vehicle moving and I allow myself to go limp and feign unconsciousness.
There’s a chance that they snatched me because I’m alone, not because of my title. If it’s because of my title, the rat doesn’t know me on a personal level. If that’s the case, then when I get out of this, they’re going to get to know me extremely well.
Calloused hands lift me up roughly, I’m tossed over one of their shoulders. My first instinct is to nail the guy with my knee, but I don’t. Last time I checked unconscious people don’t knee men in the balls.
Unceremoniously, I’m dropped into a hard chair, and the bag is yanked off my head. Watching through my lashes, I see at the cuffs they snap around my wrists. I allow my body to remain limp. Even go so far as to start sliding sideways off the chair.
The man behind me mutters a curse and quick dives to catch me, which is hilarious.
Now that the bag is off my head I can see the men—some shady government agency, like in the movies. They’re wearing minor Magiks wards too. I can smell them in the room as well.
A lot of Feyrie could be contained with them. I’m not most.
Tired of playing possum, I pop my eyes open and sit up, leaning my elbows on the table. I’m connected to it by the handcuffs, which are annoying but not a hindrance. Cadey could break them.
They all jump back. Pussies.
“Did you sedate her, Eric?” the big blonde one in front of me asks one of the ones behind me.
“Yes, Greg. I gave her the max dose.”
“Give her another one,” Greg insists. That’s not a good idea.
Greg—better be glad I’m curious. They want something either from Feyrie or me in general. I look down at the handcuffs, annoyed. I scratch two words into the metal table with a claw.
Fuck you. It suits the moment.
The door opens. Another human man, wearing a cheap black polyester suit joins me at the table. Clearing his throat, he rests his elbows on the table and regards me.
Am I supposed to be intimidated?
“Name?” he asks after a quick glance at the words I scratched into the table.
Humans aren’t completely stupid. But they aren’t prepared either. Good.
“I have one, yes,” I answer, staring right back at him.
Lifting my upper lip, I test the air. He’s well-armed. I smell two guns, at least, one knife and—I inhale again—an electronic device of some kind that isn’t a cell phone. A taser, I think they call them?
Taking in his whole person, I get the info I can. Blonde hair with graying around the edges, standard military cut. He’s even somewhat handsome by human standards. Tan skin, light blue eyes with crow’s feet in the corners, possibly from spending a lot of time outside. Hiding in the jungle, Rambo-style, probably.
No wedding ring, but he smells faintly of sex.
“Get lucky this morning, eh?” Other than the slight widening of his eyes and the speeding up of his pulse in the vein in his forehead there are no other reactions. Tilting my head to the side, I say, “I suggest you hurry this along, because I’m getting bored and you won’t like me that way.”
“What do you know about vampires and shifters?” He’s a direct kind of guy. A not very informed one, too.
“That I’m neither because they aren’t real?”
“We’ll be doing some blood work shortly to determine your exact species,” he continues in that dull, monotone voice of his.
Obviously, he doesn’t believe me, not that I care. They won’t be doing their blood work on me.
“Time’s a-ticking,” I say, feigning a glance at the non-existent watch on my wrist.
“This building is completely secure against your kind. You will not be leaving.” His voice is serious, sounding almost bored.
I snort. This fella thinks he’s way more informed than he is.
“I allowed you to bring me here, bud. So, you gonna tell me why you snatched me up?” My glamour is good—I know for a fact it is. They can’t pierce it with their gadgets and such. So yeah, someone either gave them pictures or is following me.
I’m distracted a lot lately. It won’t surprise me to find out I was followed.
Taking a quick glance around, I roll my eyes. This is the perfect setup for dealing with a young vampire or shifter, or a lower Magikally skilled Feyrie. The sedative would work on any of them. The wards can keep the vampires from using any form of coercion, the shifters from going partially zoo on them, and the Feyrie from doing whatever that particular kind does.
Be interesting to find out what else they know. Something Magikal, that’s for sure. They don’t have these types of Magiks here— well, the vampires and shifters don’t. A full-blood Feyrie might.
Really good chance they got their info from a Feyrie.
“We have sufficient experience keeping your kind here.” He says it with such arrogance I kind of want to rip out his tongue. I might, before all is said and done.
He’s also wrong, but I’m not going to point it out. He shuffles through papers in a manila folder and says, “Our informant tells us that you are some type of leader. Is this fact?”
Some type of leader, eh? Yeah, they were after me specifically. And there’s no point in playing human anymore either.
“It sounds like your informant has already answered all of your questions.”
Letting my Magiks peek out a little, the hair on my arms stands up. There are Feyrie in this building—I can feel them. Barely. I try to look for them on the Web, but something is blocking me. Apparently, the warding wherever they are being kept is a bit better than this room.
Up close and personal, I can deal with the wards, but I can’t do anything from here.
Find them. A few of the Fiends peel off from the swelling number of them to search. There are so many now that the G-man across from me is looking over his shoulder.
Yeah, you should be nervous, blondie.
This gets my full attention. This is not the first time he’s given that speech.
“You mean to cut me open and see what makes me tick?”
He nods at my question.
Leaning my elbows on the table, I move closer to him. “You okay with them cutting up people like me for scientific study?” I watch his face carefully for his answer.
“Protecting mankind is my only concern.”
I laugh, and it startles him. He’s full of crap; I saw the flash of guilt on his face. He’s good at schooling his emotions, but I’m just as good at reading them.
“I can understand wanting to protect your kind, really well. And if you release my kind from your dungeon or whatever you have here, I’m not a threat to your kind.”
My words are met with a stone wall. I can tell by the look on his face that it’s not an option. Shame.
The force of me standing disconnects the shackles from the table. The links ping loudly off the floor in the sudden stillness of the room. Holding my bound wrists up in front of him, I pull them apart—amused when he ducks to avoid flying metal bits.
Jumping to his feet, he draws a gun and aims it at me.
“You gonna shoot me?” I ask, watching him closely, almost hoping he does so I have an excuse to beat the shit out of him. Not that I don’t already have one.
A trickle of sweat winds its way down his face. He’s thinking about it. “They will kill you if you leave this room,” he threatens.
“I’ll kill you if I stay in it.”
The sound of running feet draws part of my attention to the door. Reinforcements. My eyes catch the blinking red light of the camera in the upper corner of the room.
Is their informant watching? I stare straight at it and mouth three words: I’ll find you.
The whispers of the Fiends send my temper straight to lost. Before my brain registers my movement, I have the human by his throat against the wall. His gun is now a mangled mess of metal on the floor.