Black Ops Fae

by C. N. Crawford

  I frowned. “And your parents were…what exactly?”

  “My father was an archangel. My mother was a human.”

  Surprise flickered through me. “So you’re…half human.”

  “There’s nothing human about me. An archangel is defined by his soul.”

  “Right.” His mother would have died thousands of years ago, but his father? I couldn’t quite believe he was telling me all this, and I had a burning desire to know more about him. About all of this.

  “Did your father return to the heavens?” I asked.

  His gaze shuttered, and something about the raw look in his eyes told me not to push anymore on this question. I’d touched a nerve somehow. Still, I needed to know more. Needed to know how and why all this had happened.

  “Why did it start?” I asked. “The Great Nightmare?”

  “Once the wars started between humans, demons, the fae—the Heavenly Host decided it was time for a purification. Since the fall, they’ve just been waiting for the right moment to unleash us. And you all gave it to them with your infighting.”

  “I see.” I swallowed hard. “Why does Johnny make me feel so…hungry when he stands near me?”

  Adonis’s keen eyes searched me. “He’s an angel of famine.”

  “Famine,” I repeated. “And you’re…death.”

  “Is that what you feel when I stand near you?”

  Not exactly. But I wasn’t going to tell him that standing near him made me yearn for the excruciating pleasure I knew he could give me. That he made my blood heat, my breasts strain against my clothes until I wanted to pull them off.

  Nope, no way I was saying that. The archangel’s ego was oppressive enough as it was. Instead, I said, “Something like that. Shadows seem to cling to you. You give off a bit of a death vibe.”

  I almost thought I saw a flicker of disappointment in his pale eyes. He sipped his flask before handing it to me. “And what do you feel when you’re near Kratos?”

  My throat tightened. Like I want to fall to my knees. “He exudes dominance. Like he was born to conquer.”

  “And there you have it.”

  My pulse raced as a glimmer of understanding began to spark in my mind. “Death, Famine, Conquest…” My stomach clenched as I pieced it all together. “Your horse.”

  Adonis’s pale, gray eyes pierced me. I shivered, and he widened his wings, shielding me from the wintry winds that whipped at my hair and skin. The feathered tip of one wing brushed against my skin, and I shivered.

  “I thought it was a human myth,” I said hollowly.

  “You thought what was a human myth?”

  “The four horsemen of the apocalypse.”

  Chapter 10

  “I prefer angel to horseman,” he said, “but either is fine.”

  My throat had gone dry. “So that means there’s one more. War, right?”

  A hint of mockery in his smile. “I think your young mind has learned all it can handle at this point.”

  The wind rushed over the river, carrying with it the scent of early wisteria shoots.

  I didn’t understand him, or the archangels, or the horsemen. Adonis was a dark and foreign power. I only knew that in the sound of the wind rustling the leaves, I felt the Old Gods calling me.

  “And your purpose on earth is to kill in massive numbers.” I hugged my knees to my chest. “I don’t know what you have planned for me, Adonis, but I happen to believe that the good guys always win in the end. Even if you have to go through several years of hell and death to get there.”

  Shadows slid through his eyes. “And you’re sure you know who the good guys are?”

  A shiver danced up my neck. “Not exactly. But I think the Old Gods are the good guys. I felt them in the forest outside Hotemet Castle. I feel them out here, even, whispering on the February wind, mingling with the early scents of spring. And I felt them on Eimmal, when their power flowed through my body like an ancient river. They’re looking after the fae, the humans.”

  “Don’t mistake them for benevolent gods. Nature gives as much as it takes. Death is as much a part of nature as life. Have you ever seen a starving grizzly take down a deer? Or watched smallpox spread through a village? That is nature as much as the pretty flowers you enjoy sniffing.”

  I bit my lip. “Fine. Nature is full of terrible things, but we don’t need to focus on it, do we? Is the world a terrible place or a beautiful place? The answer to that is a choice. Our lives and our souls are our stories. That’s where truth lies. And I want to tell the stories of love and happiness, not chaos and death.”

  Adonis was studying me closely. “And what are your personal stories of love, Ruby?”

  The word love on his tongue was a sensual caress that licked up my spine, but I pushed the temptation out of my mind. “Not the kind you’d want to hear. They’re not about seduction and pleasure, they’re about knowing someone so well they become a part of you.” A flicker in my mind, a pile of ash on the ground. I slammed my mental door down. “Before your archangel friends started destroying the world, I had that kind of love.”

  “What was his name?”

  I didn’t want to say Marcus’s name in front of him. In fact, I didn’t want to think about him at all, now. Because whenever I did, vicious images clawed at the back of my skull. Loss gnawed at me from the inside out. Those last, agonizing moments—

  I clamped my eyes shut. “I don’t want to think about this anymore. Like I said—our souls are our stories, and I want to focus on the good ones.”

  “But when you cut out the blood and the death and all the monstrous things that scare you, you’ll start to forget the people you’ve lost. And you’ll lose yourself, too.”

  My fists tightened. “Is that right?”

  The breeze toyed with his dark hair, and his exotic scent wrapped around me. “There’s no light without darkness, no good without evil, no meaning without death. The seeds of destruction grow in the gardens of paradise.”

  I scowled. “Did you just make that saying up? That is a super depressing aphorism.”

  “It’s an old archangel saying.”

  “I think I preferred it when you were just making vaguely suggestive comments about touching my thighs.”

  His brow furrowed. “I’ve made no comments about touching your thighs. Would you like me to?”

  He hadn’t? Flustered, I rose. At that moment, I realized that my bladder was completely full. “This has been a fascinating philosophical discussion, but I’m going to the other side of the bridge. Give me a few minutes.”

  “Why are you going to the other side of the bridge?”

  I frowned. “I need to pee, if you must know. And I’d rather not do it in front of one of the horsemen of the apocalypse. Don’t come anywhere near there.”

  “I’ll try to restrain myself.”

  With my arms folded, I walked briskly over the river bank, heading for the stone bridge. My mind whirled with everything I’d learned today. Strangely, instead of being overwhelmed, I felt energized. Sure, things died, nature was harsh. I’d signed up as a partner of the horseman of death. But the Old Gods thrived all around me, and I had the sense that they wanted to lure me into their realm, that they’d be on my side when I needed them.

  I snuck behind the bridge, shielding myself from Adonis’s view on the other side of a stony wall. After checking around me for any signs of life, I pulled down my leather leggings and underwear. I crouched on the sloping river’s edge, taking care not to pee on my own shoes or pants. The wind nipped at my bare bum.

  When I’d finished, I quickly pulled up my pants. In the shadows of the bridge, I took a moment to readjust the holster on my thigh. As I did, a splashing sound in the water behind me turned my head.

  My heart stopped. There, in the steely, frigid river waters, stood a black hound, the size of our horses. Mist whirled around him, chilling me to the bone. His eyes blazed like hot, red coals, and his lips curled back from his teeth in a terrifying snarl. I reach
ed for the knife at my thigh.

  As I did, the creature began to shift, twisting silently in the ghostly mist—until he transformed into three humanoid forms. They looked massive, their hulking bodies dripping with water.

  One of them sniffed the air, water streaming from his dark hair in rivulets over his pale skin. Tight, black clothing clung to his body, and claws grew from his fingertips. “You look like a succubus,” he growled. “You smell even more delicious than a succubus, though. What are you?”

  Since the Great Nightmare had begun, demons seemed to have free reign to terrorize smaller creatures as much as they wanted. My hand twitched at my knife. Should I simply stay and fight, or scream for Adonis at this point? I didn’t suppose these were friendly demons.

  “What do you want?” I asked quietly.

  “Food and fucking,” the three identical demons said in unison. “You showed us your naked arse, and it looked good to us.”

  My stomach turned. Oh, gross.

  “No thanks.” I took a step back, pointing my knife at them. “I don’t want to have to hurt—”

  One of the demons silenced me with a sharp slash of his arm. I mean he literally silenced me, stealing my voice. I opened my mouth, trying to shout, and no sound came out. A jolt of fear gripped me.

  As I readied my knife, one of the demons lunged for me. Heart pounding, I sharpened my senses and gripped the hilt. When the demon reached me, I was ready for him. I darted forward at the full speed of a fae, driving my knife between two of his ribs.

  He clutched his chest, gurgling, and I let him slump to the ground. To my horror, two more enormous hounds emerged from the churning river waters, eyes blazing red.

  In the mists, the black hounds transformed into more hulking, red-eyed demons.

  “Bitch!” one of them hissed. “I will tear your flesh from your bones!”

  I opened my mouth again to shout, but only a whisper wheezed from my throat. My legs shaking, I turned to run. I only got a few feet before rough hands were dragging me back over the rocks, into the water. I opened my mouth to scream for Adonis, and a rush of air puffed out.

  I kicked one of them hard in the shins with the heel of my boot, and he loosened his grip on me just enough that I could wrench my knife arm free. With a clumsy gesture, I managed to nick his skin before more rough, powerful arms began dragging me under the water. One of them shoved my head into the icy river. Still, I clung on to that poison-tipped knife with everything in my power. I held my breath.

  He released my head for just a moment, allowing me to suck in a frigid breath.

  “You need to learn some manners,” one of the demons barked. “Give a blessing to the river god.” He rammed my head under the surface again.

  I kicked and bucked fruitlessly. Air. Sweet, heavenly gods, I need air. After what seemed an eternity, my lungs started to burn, and panic ripped through my body.

  At last, I tore my arm free and brought the knife down hard into the shin of one of the demons. I flailed, getting my head above water just long enough to draw a breath. That was when I felt the light burning dimly in my body, a warm glow of primordial power.

  With a burst of wild energy, I wrenched free from the demons’ grasp. I sucked in a sharp breath, desperate to sprint away from them. But I knew I needed to face them. If I turned my back to these hounds, they’d just pull me under again. I whirled, my blade ready, glowing with the light of the Old Gods.

  As the first demon reached me, I slashed my blade across his throat, severing his jugular. Blood sprayed.

  How many of them were there now? My heart hammered against my ribs, and I took another step back on the muddy shore, clutching my knife.

  Five. Five enormous demons still standing, all gunning for my blood. Even with the power of the Old Gods…

  Just as another one of these demons was running for me, Adonis’s magic skimmed over my skin, snaking around the demons’ bodies. Trembling, I stepped away from them. Tendrils of dark magic curled in a wild dance around them, freezing the demons in place.

  Their jaws dropped, their expressions slackening. Abruptly, with jerking movements, they turned in the water, stumbling toward the bridge.

  My entire body was shaking, blazing with light, with energy, with battle fury. But I just stood there, gaping at the Dark Lord’s magic. So this was what Adonis’s mind control powers looked like. A terrible sort of awe bloomed in my chest. This was the power of a death god.

  I glanced back at him, standing just a few feet away from me. His silver-streaked, midnight wings swooped behind him, and his eyes gleamed like stars. He loomed above the riverbed, murmuring in an ancient language, shadows cloaking his powerful body. The sight of him sent an icy lick of dread racing up my spine.

  Through the rushing water, the small demon horde trudged closer to the bridge, moving faster now. I cleared my throat, finding I could vocalize again.

  My stomach jolted when the first red-eyed demon began bashing his head against the sleek stone of the bridge. More followed, slamming their heads against the rocks. I winced at the sound of cracking bone, the grunts and strangled cries that came from the demons, bashing their own skulls in. Blood and gore sprayed across the bridge’s rocky surface.

  Bile rose in my throat. He did tell me he was born to kill. And I’d wanted to kill the demons, too. Just maybe not with the same disturbing, bone-chilling brutality.

  I stared grimly at the scene before me, cringing at the agonized snarls and shrieks, and my fingers tightened into fists.

  Did I really want to give Adonis more power? What if he was lying about returning to the celestial realm, and just wanted to weaken the other archangels so he could assume complete control over the earth?

  I found it hard to believe he wanted to take off into the heavens. I couldn’t imagine him as an incorporeal being, just floating around. He was blood and bone, lust and violence, primal seduction—as bestial and full of cravings as I was.

  I clenched my jaw. I’d go along with him for now to learn what I could from him, but I wasn’t about to start trusting him.

  When the last of the demons had slumped, bloodied and broken, into the churning river, I loosed a long breath.

  “That was an interesting execution method,” I said quietly.

  Adonis’s pale gray eyes had darkened to the color of iron. “Sometimes I like to get creative.” He took a deep, shuddering breath, then winced, turning away from me. It almost looked like he was in pain. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Just cold.”

  As he began walking back to the horses, I followed after him. Drakon circled slowly overhead, plumes of smoke curling from his mouth.

  “Does that sort of magic drain your energy?” My teeth chattered from the freezing water.

  “Yes, but sometimes it’s worth it.”

  I hugged my coat tighter. “Why? What was it about these demons in particular that provoked your rage?”

  “I sense what they wanted to do to you. I could practically hear their thoughts. It was repulsive, and they needed to answer for it.”

  I arched an eyebrow. Once again, I reminded myself never to get on his bad side.

  Chapter 11

  Adonis’s magic had worked its way into my body, providing a sort of painkiller as we rode farther north through darkening fields. I’d changed into dry clothes, though I had to wait for my coat to dry before I’d feel warm again.

  Neither Thanatos nor Nuckelavee showed any signs of tiring, and we were able to take them at a gallop for part of the way.

  As the sun set, long shadows climbed over the fields. By the time darkness had fallen, we’d reached the north of England.

  Darkness still terrified me. Now, we had only the thin moonlight to light our way, casting a dull glow over the rocky, undulating fields. My grip tightened on the reins. If a cloud went over the moon, I’d be at risk of a humiliating panic attack.

  I strained my eyes, making out the short grasses that grew among the rocky hills. Was this
what I’d heard was called the moors?

  Farther ahead on the path, moonlight dimly illuminated a grove of sycamore trees that stood out starkly against the flat landscape.

  Even if my thighs had recovered somewhat, tiredness had sapped my energy, and my eyes started to drift closed. Under the cloak of darkness, an icy chill had fallen over me, and the February wind stung my skin. When, exactly, were we stopping? And where were we going to sleep?

  My teeth chattered. I’d already admitted weakness once today. Might as well run with it.

  “Adonis!” I called out.

  He whirled, and Thanatos’s eerie eyes gleamed in the darkness.

  “Are you all right?” His voice carried over the moors.

  “Fine. I just thought… Maybe we could sleep soon. I’m about to fall off Nuckelavee, and I think the beast is heartless enough to trample me to death. There’s a grove of sycamores over there that can shield us in the wind. Maybe we can make a fire pit.”

  “Fine. But no fire. We don’t want to attract attention.”

  Gods damn it.

  I clenched my teeth, unwilling to admit the truth—that under the shadows of night-dark sycamores, I’d be left alone with my own fears. Not to mention the fact that I was going to freeze to death.

  “It’s freezing.”

  “I’ll make sure you’re warm.” A taunting, dangerous invitation delivered in a sensuous timbre. “The fae live for pleasure. Isn’t that right?”

  “Pretty good pickup line, Adonis, but watching you force men to bash their heads into rocks didn’t really get me in the mood.”

  Cruelty hardened his beautiful features once more, but he didn’t reply.

  We trotted over to the grove, and I shivered in my coat. In a small clearing in the center of the trees, I pulled Nuckelavee to a halt beside Thanatos. I dismounted, practically falling off the stallion’s side. When my feet reached the earth, I considered just throwing myself on the frozen ground to fall into a deep sleep.

  Instead, I eased myself down against a sycamore trunk, watching Adonis as he pulled something out of his bag. A blanket, it looked like—thick and woolen. I rubbed my arms for warmth, my breath forming clouds around my face.