Black Ops Fae
C.N. Crawford
Copyright © 2018 by C.N. Crawford
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
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
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by C.N. Crawford
Chapter 1
In the forest outside Hotemet Castle, I nursed a small, silver flask. In the amber morning light, Hazel and Elan walked by my side.
Just three fae out for a walk among the oaks. Two of us pretending to be demons.
I scanned the forest, my chest tightening as I thought of Johnny. I’d buried his scrawny angel ass in a shallow grave out here, but angels were immortal. I had no idea how long it would take him to recover. At any minute, he could come bounding out of the soil, hunting for me with murder on his mind.
I’d just be keeping that particular image to myself for now. No reason to spoil our evening stroll.
“I like it here.” Hazel chomped into the cheese and onion pasty she’d snagged from the kitchen, the crumbs flaking over her black clothes. “We get to go outside and talk to each other and stuff.”
Elan frowned. “And you couldn’t in the dragon lair?”
“Nope.” Hazel’s mop of black curls tumbled over her shoulders. Like me, she was glamoured as a succubus, which meant that wisps of shimmering magic lifted from her body in steamy tendrils.
Warm light washed over Elan’s pale skin and gaunt features. He grabbed the flask, taking a sip of Irish coffee—spiked with just the right amount of scotch.
Don’t judge. Things had been stressful lately.
Another spray of crumbs over Hazel’s clothes. “And the dragon food wasn’t this good,” she said through a mouthful of pie. “They ate a lot of sheep. Not flavored or anything. Just sheep they caught and then roasted in their fire-breath.”
I finished the last bite of my own pie. “I guess that would make sense.” I really didn’t want to talk about dragon shifters, or think about them, or know what I might find on their menu. “Since they’re giant, disgusting lizard people.”
In her leather outfit, Hazel looked so much older than the last time I’d seen her—older than a sixteen-year-old should look, and I was pretty sure she’d spiked her own flask of coffee with the scotch.
But considering she’d spent a year among the dragons, I supposed a few changes were to be expected.
Our feet crunched over leaves and twigs as we walked.
Smiling, Hazel nudged Elan with her elbow. “You know what you remind me of? A starving egret.”
“Hazel!” I snapped. The dragons certainly hadn’t taught her any manners.
Hazel widened her dark eyes. “What? It’s not an insult. It’s just because of the paleness, and the thinness, and the haunted look in his eyes. As if he’d spent years in captivity eating frogs.”
“A hundred forty-seven years,” he confirmed. “Working in troll mines. Frogs were an infrequent delicacy.” He scratched his cheek. “From what I understand, some people like the haunted bird look.”
“There are all kinds of people,” Hazel agreed and sipped her coffee.
Elan took another swig from the flask, then wiped the back of his sleeve across his mouth. “I should probably get back to my cooking duties before one of the angels vaporizes me. I’ve been asked to roast a pig for lunch. Kratos’s favorite.” He turned, stalking off through the forest without another word.
And at last, I was alone with my sister. Considering we’d only reunited yesterday, we still had a lot to talk about.
As soon as Elan was completely out of earshot, I grabbed my sister’s arm. “Hazel. I need to fill you in on a few things.”
“Let me guess,” she whispered. “You’re pretending to be a succubus so the angels will let you stay in the nice castle with the nice food.”
Honestly. How shallow did she think I was? “Not exactly. I mean, I’m not complaining about the food, but I’m here as a spy. I’m working with the Order to stop them from wrecking the earth any more than they already have.”
“Why the hell would you do that?”
My jaw dropped open. “Because they kill people, Hazel, in case that’s escaped your notice. Please don’t tell me that you’re fine with that.”
She pursed her lips, shrugging. “It doesn’t matter if I’m fine with it. It’s happening, and we can either adapt to the new world, or starve like peasants in the dirt. Those are our options.”
Anger flared. She’d become a bit jaded in the past two years, but maybe living among fire-breathing reptiles did that to a girl.
“I’m not adapting,” I whispered. “I’m fighting them. You should be, too.” I scanned the forest again, my heart thudding at the idea that Johnny could be lurking out here somewhere.
Hazel arched an eyebrow, whispering back, “And how do you plan to fight them?”
I took a sip of my coffee. “With information. And a little faith.”
After everything that had happened recently, I’d become a believer in the Old Gods. The angels were powerful and terrifying—yes—but there were older beings, ones who’d been born native to the earth itself. And in the past couple of weeks, I’d started to believe they were providing us with everything we needed to combat the angels.
Hazel sneered. “Faith. Right.”
“Yasmin was right to believe in them.”
“Who?”
“My handler from the Order. I’ll arrange for us to meet soon. Anyway, she told me when we needed something, the Old Gods provided. And watch this.” I scanned the skies for sentinels, making sure none were in view. Then, I stood still, lifting my hand in front of my face. Since I’d jammed a knife into the silver tree branch yesterday—mainlining the power of the Old Gods—some of their magic continued to live inside me. I’d stayed up late last night, summoning a faint glow around my fingertips.
I concentrated, trying to bring up that beautiful light.
Hazel loosed a sigh. “Am I supposed to keep watching you stare at your fingers?”
“Hang on.” After a few moments, the tips of my fingers started to gleam with incandescent light.
“Hmmm…” said Hazel. “What does it do?”
“I’m not sure yet. This is just the beginning. But it’s something, right?” I let the glow die out on my fingertips.
Hazel looked unimpressed. “Or—instead of fighting the heavenly horde with your glowing hands—we could just stay
in the luxurious castle. A servant brought me breakfast this morning, and then I had a hot bath. I have a brilliant idea. How about we don’t mess it up? Do you know that every time you try to change something, you have the distinct possibility of making it worse?”
I shook my head. “It can’t get any worse. And anyway, I don’t have a lot of choice at this point. Apart from the fact that the angels are psychopaths, Johnny is lying out here in the dirt somewhere. Still alive. He knows I’m a fae, that I’ve been lying the whole time. I shot him with a poison-tipped arrow. When he wakes up, he’s going to remember that I was the one who put him in the ground. If I don’t find a way to end his life for good, I won’t be drinking any wine or having any baths, because I’ll be dead, or possibly locked in a torture room for eternity. And you will be too. Understand?”
For the first time, she looked rattled. “Maybe he won’t wake up for years. Maybe he won’t remember.”
“That’s a risky dream to pin your hopes on.”
She sipped her coffee, her gaze never leaving mine. “Between now and then, we have time to charm the other angels. We’ll take care of this whole…shooting and burying situation you created.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not sure charming people is in your skill set.”
She glowered at me. “What makes you say that?”
“You just met Elan a day ago and you already called him a starving, haunted egret.”
“He didn’t seem to mind. Anyway, the dragons liked being mildly insulted. I was their favorite.”
I definitely needed more whiskey in this coffee. “You’re telling me you charmed the dragons. After what they did…” I let the sentence trail off, didn’t want to give life to that particular horror with words.
Her jaw tightened. “Yeah, I got on their good side. How do you think I survived? How do you think I was able to control them? It doesn’t matter if I liked them, Ruby. What mattered was that they liked me. That meant they protected me, gave me food and a place to sleep. All I had to do was entertain them and keep them happy.”
I gritted my teeth. “Did they know you were fifteen?”
She glared at me. “Yes, and I didn’t entertain them like that. I told them jokes, told them stories, filled their drinks. I flirted.” She scowled. “Oh, don’t look so shocked. You and I are the same. I lived among the dragons, pretending to be someone else. You lived in a castle, pretending to be someone else. And it doesn’t matter if we liked it, or if other people would approve. Dragons and angels will do what they want. Our job was to survive.”
“We can do more than just survive. We can fight them.”
“We can’t. I remember, Ruby. I remember when dragons killed our parents. I remember when they ripped Marcus apart. He was trying to save us, and—”
I held up a hand, cutting her off. “Let’s not think about that, Hazel. You’re right that we need to survive, but it’s not going to happen by dwelling on all the terrible things that ever happened to us.”
Something dangerous sparked in her eyes. “And ignoring all the terrible things will get you killed. Don’t underestimate the forces working against you if you try to cross the angels. No one is looking after us, Ruby. We need to look after ourselves, and we can do that by pleasing the people in power.”
“I will look after you. We just need to return to our roots. If we can end the Great Nightmare, we’ll have a normal life. A cottage in the woods, with a fireplace, venison that I hunt, and…I don’t know… root vegetables. Just like our ancestors. We can even bring along the haunted egret if you like. In any case, we don’t belong among the angels or the dragons. We belong among our kind, and I’m going to do whatever I can to protect the only family I have left.”
Her jaw dropped. “Are you out of your mind? Root vegetables and fireplaces? How do you expect to achieve this domestic dream?”
I loosed a long breath. The answer sounded ridiculous, even to me. And yet, I was starting to have faith in something older than the angels themselves. “The Old Gods are helping us. They’ve always been here—we just never knew about them. They’re the reason why I was able to put Johnny in the ground in the first place.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Sounds like bullshit. And even if the Old Gods are real, everything has a price. You realize that, don’t you? Everyone has a price.”
“So cynical for sixteen.” As we walked, I fixed my gaze on hers intently. “Hazel. What I’m about to tell you is important, and you have to keep this to yourself, do you understand?”
She nodded. “I can keep a secret.”
“Not all the angels are on the same side,” I whispered. “Adonis says he’s working against the others. I don’t really understand why, and I don’t trust him, either, but there are fractures in their alliance. He is the only one here who knows what I really am. I don’t know what his motives are, but he let me live.”
Hazel ran her fingertips along the leaves of a nearby shrub. “Now that is interesting.”
My jaw tightened. I wasn’t sure she was getting the severity of the situation. “Hazel. If Johnny wakes up—when Johnny wakes up, I’m going to need to leave here, fast. In fact, a smart person would probably leave before he wakes up. And you’ll need to come with me, because he’ll blow your cover, too.”
She shot me a sharp look. “Maybe. Or maybe I stay here and use my own skills to keep Johnny and Kratos from coming after you. Then I can continue to eat Elan’s food, because let’s not overlook the fact that I just ate a pie for the first time in two years.”
“That’s wonderful. And your plan is to charm Johnny enough so that he won’t care that I’m a lying fae spy who wants to kill him.”
“Maybe charm isn’t the right word. I’m good at confusing people.”
“You don’t say.”
She grabbed my arm. “I’m not joking. I’m can persuade people, just by talking. Like, I confuse them, and then they forget what they were angry about, or they forget what they want me to do. How do you think I explained to the dragons why I was suddenly a succubus?”
“You confused them.” I narrowed my eyes, an idea sparking in my mind. “Little sister, you just might have inherited the ancient fae skill of befuddlement.”
Hazel smiled. “See? Our problem is solved. We can stay here with the pies and the fireplaces, and we won’t end up out on our asses trying to hunt rabbits in the woods. I’ll just befuddle them.”
I shook my head. “No, Hazel. This isn’t just about us. Look, we’re going to dinner tonight with the remaining angels. If you really do have these powers of befuddlement, I could use your help. Kratos has asked both of us to dinner tonight, but he wants to keep me as far as possible from Adonis. I’m not supposed to go into Adonis’s corridor, or leave my tower, or walk anywhere near the Dark Lord.”
“A gilded cage.”
“Pretty much. But we can see Kratos. Any chance you can persuade Kratos to invite Adonis to this dinner? And then find a way to get us alone?”
“Easy.” She studied me closely. “And of course you’d like to get him alone. I caught a glimpse of him in the courtyard. Looks like a god.”
“It’s not like that. I need him for information, but I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. He hates the fae as much as he loves himself. Whatever his motives are, they’re not altruistic. If I had to guess, he’s angling for even more power than he already has.”
“So stick with him, then. In this world, when power dynamics shift, you’d better make sure you’re on the winning side.” She snatched my spiked coffee and took a sip.
I didn’t even try to stop her. Right now, I was pretty sure “little Hazel”—the one who’d once crawled into my bed to stave off nightmares about closet monsters—was well and truly gone.
In this world, maybe a loss of innocence wasn’t the worst thing.
Chapter 2
I spun across the dance floor, my body thrilling at its own movements. Kratos had installed this studio for me, with a wooden floo
r and everything. I was only now getting to use it for the first time. Truthfully, a fae preferred to dance outside, but since he didn’t know my true nature, the wooden floors would have to do.
That morning, I’d taken a quick mirror call from Yasmin—just a few flashes of the candle to signal to my handler from the Order that I was in no immediate danger. Then, I’d quickly found my way to the dance studio.
As I moved, arching my back in an arabesque, a thin sheen of sweat spread over my body. Gods it felt good to dance again, and now that Hazel had returned to me, I could finally truly enjoy myself for once. I glimpsed myself in the mirror as I danced.
Twirling, a familiar ecstasy rippled through my ribs. This was what I was born to do. And ever since I’d connected to the Old Gods in the forest outside—since I’d harnessed their light—I felt connected to the earth, to my body, more than ever.
Closing my eyes, I twirled, a smile lighting up my face—until I spun right into a powerful chest that felt a lot like a wall of steel.
I opened my eyes, finding myself face-to-face with a muscled chest dressed in a finely cut crimson shirt, and the sweep of coppery wings. Then, I looked up into the chiseled face of Kratos, his eyes blazing like sunlight as he stared down at me. A vein throbbed in his neck.
From somewhere behind him, one of his ivory hounds growled, as if sensing the tension in the room. As if I were a threat to him. The creature padded over, his claws clicking against the hardwood floor, and stood next to his master. Kratos reached down, giving the hound an affectionate pat.
Black Ops Fae (A Spy Among the Fallen Book 2) Page 1