A Court For Fairies (Dark Heralds Book 1)

by Lynn S.

  From what she had heard from Esteban, Adriana knew that Carla was not only the matriarch, but the alpha in her family. Where Isabel was impulse leading to error, Carla was cold logic efficiently disguised as serenity. She had to die first.

  As a girl, Adriana observed her father exert influence over mortals and night breeds. Though she didn’t get to know him in his glory days, she still remembered how a simple word coming from his lips guaranteed them shelter or safe passage. A vampyr’s power to summon and command was only rivaled by sirens and the higher order of the Seelie Court. For vampyrs, the key to it all, just like everything else about them, resided in the manipulation of blood.

  Humans were wired with an intense desire to persist. They could perceive immortality and want it above all else. All vampyrs, at least at first, were welcomed with the sweetest of invitations. A meeting of a mortal and a night breed usually led to an almost instant trance-like state. Blood and words. To get someone to obey was as easy as biting down on her lip, drawing enough blood to step up her favorite shade of red lipstick, and then say whatever came to her mind. Unfortunately, hunters caught up on their game and though they could not prevent it in others, they quickly learned to ward themselves against a vampyr’s convocation.

  In the case of fairies, a vampyr’s presence was easily detected, but discovering a night breed among them promised no pleasantries. During the brief instances she crossed words with the Alejandro women, even when not aware those years prior, she had placed her blood in the hands of Neil and Bastian to procure their destruction, the uncomfortable feeling was mutual. Adriana knew who they were before the fairies even had a clue. Years of hiding from her own kind had honed her cloaking abilities. No one knew she was not altogether human until she let them in. It also helped that neither Carla nor Isabel made the least of efforts to get to know her, but rather drew the line at the perceived social disparity between them. Stuck up bastards.

  Adriana found all this uppity display both fascinating and engaging. She never backed out of a challenge, so it became a particular hobby of hers to happily contribute to what she dubbed the “deprogramming of the fairy prince.” She took Esteban under her wing and what started as a tug of war between the possessive mother and the vulgar in-law, soon bloomed into true affection. She loved him enough to allow him to see, revealing some secrets while keeping others hidden so he wouldn’t be irreparably hurt. Now her omissions were coming back to haunt her.

  It was time. Adriana raised her forearm to her lips and bit down on her alabaster flesh. Blood flowed profusely before the wound started repairing itself.

  Carla had managed to keep Marissa just where her father wanted her. The blonde woman’s blood, absorbed by both elder tree and lesser Sidhe behind the veil, kept her numbed, unable to fully transform into a dhampyr and therefore vulnerable and human. Whatever she had grown into the night before had now receded.

  Isabel was concentrated on Esteban, who had finally reached a level of stability. His breathing was not as short or interrupted as before. Her hands, slick with fragrant oils, caressed the young man’s face and tried to draw patterns on his skin.

  All Fae, even the dark ones, conjured upon themselves the power of Earth. Her hands were moist with flower extracts that, combined with magic, helped her son’s body make the transition back into the mortal world. Sunflowers, lavender, daisies, the deep pinks of valerian, they all seemed to bring him back, if only for a moment. But, damn it, the only thing that made him open his eyes ever so slightly was the soft moans of that accursed girl.

  “Stay within the Circle. Don’t abandon it under any circumstance. If Esteban awakens, you must do what he says, even if it goes against your better judgement. He has been to the other side, Isabel, and he brings knowledge that springs from both the grave and the inter-world.” With these words, Carla took leave of her sister. It was not her intention to tell her about what she was about to face on the blue cobblestone road that led to the house on the hill.

  The elder sister made her way from the secluded garden to the entrance of the house. Once outside the Circle, that toxic blood her father so obsessed about assaulted her senses. Adriana stood defiantly, meeting her at the top of the hill with fists closed in a sign of silent aggression.

  “Well, well. It seems the Mor-rioghain find themselves bored tonight. They have allowed for a side show. One must always be grateful for opportunities. I’ve been wanting to kill you for the better part of three decades, you filthy leech. For Evelyn.” Carla looked at Adriana, hiding her curiosity behind a dismissive smirk. What was it about that face? What was so interesting or different about her to guarantee Francis Alexander’s duplicity and his protectiveness of her brood? Now, clear of all guards, she had Adriana before her and it was easy to be blinded by anger. She didn’t see what her father saw. In her mind, this was the vessel of the blood that had destroyed the true Fae child in Isabel’s womb—the one who was worth it.

  With no other words spoken and at vertiginous speed, she disappeared, causing the vampyr to do a double take. Her natural agility and the capability to weave illusions characteristic of the Sidhe made her look as if she had taken to the air, hardly disturbing the mists about her.

  Adriana was barely discovering her abilities as vampyr, but there was something of which she had always been certain. During her long existence, while subjected to her father, she learned that coolness was the best weapon. The fairy mastered poise and strategy and was counting on the vampyr’s turn toward violence to quickly gain the upper hand.

  A vampyr unleashed must struggle between keeping control of the outside elements and falling prey to the chaos within. Sometimes their instinct reacted ahead, raw violence exploding and clouding the senses. A vampyr would then be at its most menacing, but also at its most vulnerable. Adriana relied on the spark of humanity she had not yet completely lost and listened. It was not the soft beating of wings taking to air, but the rustles of leaves. The fairy cut across, never really leaving her side. Adriana turned toward the almost imperceptible sound to her left and attacked head on.

  She caught up with Carla before the fairy could make another move, intercepting her as she was about to strike from the grove that flanked larger trees. Adriana clawed at Carla, driving her nails deep in the flesh between her lower neck and back. The pain was so unbearable that Carla had to revert to her true form in order to contain it.

  She showed herself as she was, a creature drawn within an exquisite frame, a lithe body with skin bathed in a soft blue hue. Her eyes were pits of endless dark. The furious green of the Sidhe was starting to show through, imparting a trace of emotion in her cold stance. Dark hair that had been touched with silver while in human form now glinted in highlights of emerald and turquoise, tendrils that were as alive as her senses. Her hands, traced in fine black lines, curved into tiny black claws. She was a being of rare beauty, but the vampyr was not in the mood for contemplation.

  There was nothing to gain by summoning Isabel to her side, other than probably disrupting the spell that might save both their lives. Carla knew their only hope was for Esteban’s body to make it through, but the vampyr was quickly contributing to the lessening of those odds.

  A fight was the only option. Engaged as they were, the fairy gripped Adriana by the waist with both hands and pulled, making the vampyr follow the lead of her body.

  They stumbled, but where Adriana was surprised, Carla knew exactly what she was doing. The grove was planted bordering an artificial slope, a slant in the terrain created for landscaping purposes. The soil filler gave in and both women rolled down toward a small rock promontory that marked the farthest reach of the lake below. Turning, Carla managed to fall on top of Adriana, the weight of her body and the crushing impact of the rocks forcing the vampyr to let go, loosening the grip of her talons.

  It took them barely seconds to be back on their feet again. Carla made the best of the familiar terrain by leaning forward, gaining momentum, and managing to impact Adriana with a closed
fist to the side of the head, stunning her for an instant.

  Carla was going to make the best of it. In order to increase her advantage, with a swift turn of her body she slammed once again against Adriana, smashing her elbow into her throat. Another Sidhe or a human might have had a crushed trachea as consequence, but the damage to Adriana was minimal. Still, it was enough to grant her a chance. Carla anchored her hands on the sides of the vampyr’s face, lifting Adriana’s head to crush it against the rocks. Soon enough, Carla’s hands were burning as if doused with acid.

  The need to act upon her slight advantage made her forget to shift her hands to human form. The tips of her small claws lacerated the vampyr’s skin, but the gush of blood damaged the Fae’s sensitive skin. The blood of a vampyr was toxic. Pink boils sprouted on her hands and her flesh sizzled.

  “This is over,” Adriana hissed as Carla tried to hit her square in the face once more. The fairy couldn’t care less about damage to herself, but each strike against the vampyr was as bad as receiving a hit herself. Adriana shifted, inverting their position. Now she was on top of Carla, pinning her arms firmly to the ground.

  A long, barbed tongue rolled out of her mouth, grazing against rows of teeth meant to tear apart. The heat of the fight had brought on the last stage of Adriana’s transition. Her instinct brought forth a vampyr’s ultimate resource. It was hard for her to utter words, but she managed to say, “You lose.” A guttural sound marked her strike as sharp teeth found their way into the soft flesh of Carla’s neck. The bite was savage; it tore away a chunk of flesh that allowed for her tongue to burrow into the Sidhe’s neck.

  A vampyr’s tongue was almost as effective a weapon as its bite. Not only did it distill a paralyzing venom, but it was covered in hardened scales that were as effective as hooks. Adriana pushed further into Carla’s numbed flesh, lifting Carla’s head just to delve deeper, coiling that killer appendage and slicing through chunks of flesh in the process. When she pulled back, muscle and blood painted the stones in red.

  She cradled Carla’s head in her hands, a mockery of a loving gesture, to better see the green fading from her eyes. The last thing the Sidhe saw before fading into the dark of death was the disfigured face of her opponent slowly falling into place, the vampyr boasted a smile.

  Perched on a maple tree branch, Mikka, the Morrigan responsible for collecting the blood of those fallen on Earth, couldn’t avoid curving her lips with slight satisfaction. She touched the ground to receive the blood of House Alexander spilled during a loss in battle, something that had not happened in centuries. She presented it to Annand, who took it upon herself as one who received communion from a chalice. They came to witness bloodshed and it was done—or so Annand declared. With a single command she told her sisters and the blackbirds in their care that it was time to take flight and let the fates unravel.

  ***

  Isabel shook violently as air rushed out of her lungs. Since the day she saw light upon this world, Carla was present. A sister who then became her mother. Her parting was inconceivable, the very definition of bitter surprise. Pain tore through her as she discovered her elder was no more.

  Eyes moistened in tears looked up to the tree where Marissa, much like Esteban, drifted in and out of unconsciousness. This time the young woman’s eyes were clear and opened, trying to fix her stare as far as her own brand of pain allowed. Carla had forbidden Isabel from abandoning the Circle, but the tree was right on the edge of it. Whomever caused Carla’s demise was coming for the girl, but she wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. The dark of her eyes had completely disappeared and her orbs were the green of gemstones, revealing her homicidal intent.

  Esteban was back, whole now. She could feel it, and it was better to finish it all off before he came completely to his senses. She needed nothing to kill Marissa but her own hands. Isabel got closer, allowing for poisoned memories to distill according to their nature. Carla was gone, erased from the Earth, never to be seen again. She could accept that. But Esteban was hers. When his father protested, she did away with him, and for almost thirty years, not even Francis Alexander had been able to claim her. As much as she loved her sister, Carla could never convince her that her son belonged to the Unseelie Court. She had always kept him in check, allowing him to enjoy the illusion of freedom, until Marissa disrupted their lives.

  “You and yours have seen to it that I am left alone, but know this. He is mine. Mine.” She huffed and spoke through gritted teeth. To hell with all. Fairies lived for eons, and whatever business Francis Alexander might have pending with the little dhampyr, he could always find another. She wanted more than anything to give one last turn to that silver chain and see a head roll.

  Something stirred behind her, the weight of a body lifting itself from the soft ground. It was enough to stop her in her tracks.

  “Mo…ther.” Esteban’s voice was roughened by dehydration, but he was there. His body still racked by pain, he had managed to turn about and use his arms to drag his body, as his legs were still unresponsive. His only aim was Marissa, and Isabel knew it.

  She went back to him, trying to turn him on his back again. In his weakened state it would be an easy task. He was still within the Circle, and if needed, she’d pronounce the words and ease him into slumber. It was a risk, to send him back to sleep when he had just woken from the grip of death, but she calculated it would do the least damage.

  Esteban must have recognized her intention and with one last effort, managed to shift up onto his knees. As he tried to stand up, it was easier to scream than to get a hold of the ground below him. He fell once more to his knees as a searing pain burned through his lower extremities. His head almost touched the ground as he applied pressure to his cramped right thigh.

  “For the love of all the gods!” Mother ran to son. His clothes were a mess stained with green and soil. “Why do you insist on self-harm?” Her words carried the same measure of recrimination and worry. Isabel held him. His whole body felt like it would burst with fever. It was unnatural, a kind of affliction Isabel had never seen before.

  More than raised temperature, it was a fire raging from within, glowing red through his skin. Even part of the cloth on his slacks had burned through, exposing part of his leg and thigh. Esteban held onto her, making eye contact. Isabel saw as his face became calmer, even if still burning; he had the upper hand on his fever. His body tensed as pain and heat were expelled through the skin. The dark of Isabel’s eyes looked into her son’s hazel and saw there, for the very first time, the emerald that made evident his true nature. It was done. His time with Francis had not only restored him, but brought him back a true Sidhe.

  Esteban steadied, meeting his mother’s gaze with a complicit smile. His fingers curved and familiar thick, black claws formed at the tip. He used his newfound weapon to tear through his aching leg and thigh, shredding through skin and muscle. Hot blood and viscosity burst out from a cyst that had formed around an intruding body. Isabel didn’t register much. To her horror, once she realized her son had carried within him a thin iron dagger, an instrument that both hurt him and invalidated the Circle with its offensive presence, it was too late to even scream.

  He attacked her. Wielding the dirk, Esteban rushed the knife through her eye socket. The cold iron liquefied viscera and cracked through bone as it was pushed in to the hilt with unexpected force, pinning her writhing body to the ground.

  As much as it hurt, and even if the metal poisoned him as well, Esteban kept holding the dagger until it dissolved within Isabel’s flesh, sealing what had been her eye and driving the green that kept her bound to Fae out of her dying system.

  Marissa saw nothing. Neither did she hear a mother’s last words to her son. “Deception…”

  Chapter XX

  You’ll Never Know How Much I Love You

  The vampyr’s instinct had always looked after the dhampyr. After all, though lesser in power, it was the dhampyr who took care of the master at their weakest, during daylight. How
ever, it didn’t have to compel Adriana. Mother was stronger than vampyr. She rushed to Marissa’s side, discarding everything else about her: Esteban returned, the pile of dust and viscera that once was Isabel, and tiny eyes that watched it all from the safety of the elder tree, sealing any conduit to the Unseelie Court from the mortal plane.

  Mother wanted to lift daughter and carry her in loving arms. Marissa’s blood had rushed to her feet and her lower extremities were swollen while her upper half looked as if it had acquired the delicate texture of thin paper. She could see the exhausted blue of veins almost buried and dry upon her skin. Adriana didn’t think twice before unrolling the silver chain about her gravely hurt daughter, but the hiss of metal on her skin quickly reminded her that the silver was as offensive to a vampyr as the cold of iron to the Fae.

  “Let me do it, please.” Esteban was getting close to them, limping, trying not to put his weight on a leg that still bled and discharged.

  Adriana growled, warning him to keep his distance; the eyes that strove to recognize him were bathed in a deep shade of red. Her body tensed, ready for another round of gruesome fight, but his voice convinced her otherwise.

  “Look what I have done for her! You once believed in me without a need for proof. Do it now that I’m giving you evidence.” His stance was as straight as it could be, hands extended, as someone who wanted to make friends with an animal known for its vicious streak. He kept moving forward. Each effort ringing with pain. Crystalline tears formed in his hazel eyes. “You know that I am immune to your blood. Can’t say the same about the weaknesses I acquired in that house made of black stone. Yes, there is something of them embedded in me. Maybe it was always there and the torture and pain I went through in that place made it more evident. But through it all I loved her and didn’t forget her. Let me rid her of her torment. You have not fed, Adriana, and weak as you are, unhooking that chain will bring about your death.”