Black Ops Fae (A Spy Among the Fallen Book 2)

by C. N. Crawford

  Tanit broke the awkward silence by gliding back into the room, clutching two books to her chest. She moved with a disturbingly fluid motion, as though she were hovering just slightly off the floor. “One in cuneiform, and one in English so the young fae can read it.”

  She dropped them on the table next to my plate with a loud thud. “There. Your literary proof.”

  I stroked my fingertips over the black, leather-bound book on top, its surface etched in silver lettering: The Bringer of Light.

  “This is the one I saw in your room.”

  Kur rolled his eyes. “Of course you were in his bedroom.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” I said sharply, cracking open the book. “I was dressed as a puritan witch judge.”

  I turned the book’s yellowed pages, taking care not to rip them. The book was written in English, but it seemed to be Middle English. Still, as I scanned the text, I could figure out its meaning. The first section gave an account of everything I already knew—Azazeyl’s fall from heaven, his soul fracturing into seven pieces that became the seven earthly gods. Nyxobas, god of night. Emerazel, god of fire, and so on. Each god tormented by their punishment.

  I turned the page, my pulse racing at an illustration of Azazeyl falling from the skies. Pain creased his beautiful features, and the wind appeared to tear at his wings.

  When I turned the page again, I found an image of Nyxobas, god of night. His cowl cloaked his features. The artist had painted a midnight sky with silver stars around him. Just a picture of him was enough to fill me with a sense of dread—as if a void were beginning to eat at me from the inside out.

  Shuddering, I turned the pages until I got to a chapter about the Heavenly Host. Just as Kur had said, the text mentioned a hundred million angels, organized into cohorts and legions. An archangel commanded each legion.

  Okay. Demons and angels, we’d covered that part. Where did I come in?

  I continued leafing through, landing on a page where the text was adorned with images of leaves, beside a picture of a tree whose gnarls seemed to form a sort of face. Silver light glowed around the tree—and a single, silver branch gleamed in the candlelight.

  Of course. This represented the Old Gods. A quick scan of the text confirmed everything Yasmin had told me—the Old Gods had grown with life on earth, and were native to this world. They sought to free us from the scourge of the earthly gods, from the angels and demons who tried to control us. In times of crisis, they gave us what we needed through the earth itself.

  A loud, exaggerated yawn from across the table interrupted my thoughts momentarily, and I looked up to find Tanit staring at me. “Is this really how long it takes a fae to read?”

  Sighing, I returned to the text. And that brought me to the final section—the one about the Bringer of Light. Here, the artist had painted an image of a silver-haired creature, her body incandescent. Blue gems gleamed from her forehead like rays of light.

  My pulse began to race. I was supposed to be one of these godlike creatures? I was good with harvesting herbs and moss from the ground, but this seemed a bit much. I sucked in a sharp breath, focusing intently on the text.

  Here, I found an account of the Stones of Zohar—gemstones mined from a watery grotto.

  According to the book, Bringers of Light were born every few hundred years, and they served the Old Gods. A Bringer of Light, united with the gems, would have the power to fight angels, to reclaim the earth for the Old Gods.

  Of course, it didn’t give any details beyond that.

  As I closed the book, a cloud of dust rose in the air. “Okay, I guess the story checks out in the old book. When do we leave?”

  “As soon as my wing heals,” said Adonis. “We just need to hope for two things. One, that Johnny fails to recover his memory anytime soon.”

  “And the other?” I prompted.

  Adonis’s eyes flashed with a pale light. “Well, let’s just hope that none of the celestial angels manage to figure out who you are before we get to Sadeckrav Castle.”

  Tanit smiled. “We wouldn’t want your pretty fae face splattered all over the earth.”

  Chapter 17

  Adonis’s powerful, dark wings practically trailed against the ground as he walked by my side over the rocky outcrop that overlooked the ocean. I pulled my coat tight around myself, tasting salt on my lips.

  “So glad we managed to convince you,” said Adonis. “I’d hate for the fate of the world to sink into an abyss just because of your trust issues.”

  “Yes, I’m on board.”

  The scent of brine floated on the wind, and along with it, Adonis’s deliciously exotic scent slipped around my skin.

  “You’re going to be undercover again,” he said. “But you’re used to that.”

  “What’s my role?”

  “We had to go with something realistic. Kur sent word to Aereus, explaining that I’ve tamed a succubus concubine for my pleasure,” he purred. “Obviously, it was the most logical thing to do.”

  I glared at him. “Tamed?”

  “Taming a succubus is a common angelic fantasy. It’s how you were able to beguile Kratos so easily.”

  “Right. That was the only option, I’m sure. Are you going to tell me why you’re so desperate to go to the celestial realms? You’ve never lived there before. Why so eager to divest yourself of a human body?”

  When he met my gaze, I found something unexpected there—just the faintest hint of vulnerability in his gray eyes. “I’ve been here long enough. I’ve done all I can on earth.”

  “I suppose it wouldn’t be super awesome to have to stab yourself in the heart all the time.”

  “You’re certainly catching on.”

  The marine winds toyed with my crimson hair. “It seems like you spent your time among shadow demons over the centuries. When did you join up with the other horsemen?”

  “We didn’t find each other until just before the Great Nightmare began. I’ve spent most of the centuries hiding my wings, disguising myself as a demon. I fought alongside Tanit and Kur in more wars than I can count.”

  Below us, the waves crashed hard against the rocky shore, and mist dampened my skin. “So you spent centuries pretending to be someone you’re not.”

  “Something you’re familiar with, isn’t it?” His voice twined softly around me.

  “I guess. You’re not complaining about my disguise, are you? You hate the fae.”

  He studied me carefully. “Not all of them.”

  I walked by his side, our footsteps crunching over the gravel path. The path wound sinuously around the cliff’s edge, wrapping around the ancient, gothic castle itself.

  I folded my arms. “And what makes us worse than demons?”

  “Demons lose control because they can’t help it. The fae worship chaos, seek it out. I spent too much time among them.”

  “Why?”

  “Let’s just say my particular skill set appealed to them—death and pleasure.” A haunted edge tinged his voice, and I knew he was only giving me part of the story—a sanitized version.

  “Your kind are fascinating, I’ll admit,” he continued in his deep, alluring timbre. “The fae are as beautiful as you are brutal.”

  His description startled me. In fact, it was exactly how I’d describe him. “Beautiful?”

  A slow, heartbreaking smile. “Yes.” He paused, running a fingertip over my cherry-red hair. “Where’s the real Ruby under all this?”

  Warmth spread between my ribs. “I’m not sure you want to see the real Ruby. It’s not just glamour that hides me. Glamour is an illusion—the hair color, the eye color, the ears. But you know the fae also shift. That’s an actual, physical change. My canines grow, and my muscles become stronger, swifter. Some older fae stay in that state all the time. But a young fae like me—we don’t keep control so well.”

  “Show me.” A seductive plea and a command. “I want to see you under there.”

  A dark heat thrummed through my blood. I never
shifted completely, not unless I went feral, and yet here, in the forlorn salty air, I found myself wanting to do as he said. “Like I said. It’s not easy to control.”

  Amusement curled his beautiful lips. “I think I’ll be able to handle it.”

  Why was it so hard to say no to him? Maybe because he’d spent thousands of years honing the skill of getting what he wanted. He used his voice, his beauty as a weapon.

  I closed my eyes, letting the glamour fade with a sharp tingling over my skin. The sea air wrapped around me.

  I opened my eyes, knowing that Adonis would be staring into pools of silver. Pale-gold hair whipped in front of my face. Still, I wasn’t shifting. Who knew what would happen if I went feral with Adonis again?

  Adonis reached out to brush my hair from my face, and the feather-light touch of his fingertips stroked against my skin, ice-cold and fire-hot at the same time. “But that’s still not the real you, is it?”

  “Just because I have a feral side doesn’t mean it’s the real me. Maybe this is the real me. Or my human glamour. Maybe it’s Angela Death, the succubus, dressed in sequins on a stage. Maybe my disguises are the real me.”

  Without my glamour, I felt completely exposed before him, like I’d walked into his room naked, submitting myself to his judgment. I closed my eyes again, summoning my human glamour, hiding my ears, my inhuman hair, as the magic whispered over my skin.

  I opened my eyes again, catching a flicker of disappointment in his gaze. I cocked my hip. “That’s enough of that. I’m not a performing monkey. And anyway, I’m not as convinced as you are that you’d be able to handle me when I’m feral.”

  He peered down at me with a wicked smile. “Oh, but I would love to try.” With his hands in his pockets, he moved deeper into the garden, and I followed. “Do you like it here?”

  It honestly surprised me that he cared what I thought, like he was looking for my approval. “I do. It’s a little bleak, admittedly.” I gestured at the dark, craggy shoreline below us. “How long have you lived here? It’s elegant, but it’s…unforgiving.”

  “Nearly a thousand years, I suppose. But it has its own strange beauty.” His eyes drank me in, the corner of his perfect mouth quirked in a smile. “Like the fae. Do you want to see?”

  “How could I resist that description?”

  The path twisted around the castle’s walls, and thorny shrubs crawled over the path around us. A vast canopy of stars spread out above us.

  Adonis met my gaze. “Kur was wrong. You don’t need to disguise your fae side around me.”

  He led me toward a crumbling stone wall.

  “I lived among humans for my whole life. It’s just an old habit, I suppose. I’ve always glamoured myself.”

  He pushed open an old, creaking gate. In the darkness, the silver seemed to burn brightly in his eyes. “But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.” As we moved through the gateway, I cast my gaze over an enormous, untamed garden, the plants and flowers silvered in the moonlight.

  A jagged tree grew in the center of the garden. A stream ran past it, burbling out of the ground. It had carved a sinuous path through the plants. On the far edge of the walled garden, the stream poured under a low archway, cascading off the cliff’s edge to the rocks below.

  Myrrh trees grew by the riverbanks. Blood-red flowers dappled the grasses—poppies maybe—growing among blue and white anemones. The air smelled of wild thyme and marjoram.

  One of the ancient walls had partially eroded, giving way to a view of the ocean. Moonlight glinted off the water.

  My breath caught in my throat. “This is your private garden? It’s beautiful.”

  “This is where I spent many of my days when I wasn’t off getting tangled up in shadow demon wars. Reading. Writing. Drinking with Tanit and Kur, hosting visitors from the shadow realms.”

  Tall wildflowers brushed against my fingertips, featherlight. “Why would you fight with shadow demons? You’re not one of them. Why would you be loyal to Nyxobas?”

  “The god of night?” He snorted. “I have no loyalty to him.”

  I nodded slowly, my gaze trailing over the perfect planes of his face. “So what were you fighting for, then?”

  “For my friends. They saved me when I escaped the fae realm. And I saved them, whenever I could.” Adonis’s exotic scent mingled with the heady perfume of the wildflowers.

  “Let me see if I understand this correctly. You have close friends who you love, who you’ve been with for thousands of years. You have this gorgeous garden, where you read books, drink with your friends. I’m going to wager you’ve seduced a few beautiful women in your time. I know it must suck—like, seriously suck—to have to stab yourself in the heart. But isn’t there another way? Do you really want to give all this up to float around in heaven?”

  “The thing is, Ruby, angels were never meant to walk the earth.”

  I’d said the same thing many times over the past year and a half, but I still felt the impulse to argue with him.

  He froze abruptly, staring up at the sky, and an icy chill rippled over my skin as the temperature seemed to freeze around me.

  “Speaking of angels going where they don’t belong...” Ice chilled his voice. “You need to get inside.”

  Chapter 18

  Adonis’s voice had changed, became commanding. No longer was it the sexual purr of a lover, but the voice of a general.

  I narrowed my eyes at the sky, but I could see nothing among the stars. “Can you at least tell me what’s happening?”

  “It seems some of the angels have found us. Not the archangels, but still a nuisance. Hide in my room. There’s a secret passage behind the garden tapestry.”

  My heart began to hammer. “Are you going to fight a whole horde of angels?”

  “Oh, you don’t need to worry about me. Go.”

  I hurried back to the castle door, my fingertips brushing over the holster at my thigh. I still had the knife, though I wasn’t sure how much good it would do me in a fight against a legion of angels. How many angels were we talking here, exactly?

  I sprinted through an open archway to the courtyard. Distantly, the sound of trumpets pierced the air, and the noise rumbled through my gut.

  I raced up the stairs to Adonis’s room and flung open the door. I scanned the room, searching among the old, faded hangings for one that looked like a garden. The tapestry of blood-red flowers hung just across from his bed.

  First, I rushed over to the window. I peered through the glass, catching sight of a small horde of angels racing toward the earth, bodies glowing with golden light. If I narrowed my eyes, I could make out the swords glinting in their hands.

  My mouth went dry. Were all these angels really after me? Being a spy was one thing, but I didn’t have much supernatural war experience.

  Adrenaline burned through my veins. I hurried over to the tapestry, then pulled it aside. Just as Adonis had said, a door stood inset in the wall. I pushed it open into a dark, narrow passageway. For just a moment, I froze, my heart thumping hard.

  Complete darkness in here.

  Which was worse? An angelic horde hell-bent on my death, or a dark hallway? Clearly, the hallway was the better option.

  With my heart slamming against my ribs, I began to run. I had no idea where I was going, just that it was away from the angel horde.

  Dread coiled around my heart. If these angels knew I was here, did that mean it was all over? Did they all know? I couldn’t hide from them forever.

  I raced through the bowels of the castle, my fingers tracing the damp walls as a guide. At last, the passageway gave way to a wider hall, and the sound of screeching echoed off a high ceiling. I still couldn’t see anything, and my blood began to roar in my ears. It sounded like I’d run into hell itself—and for all I knew, I had.

  Air whooshed over my head as something swooped lower. A leathery wing brushed against my forehead. No—not leathery—scaly.
>
  My heart threatened to gallop out of my chest, and the darkness felt as if it were closing in around me. The otherworldly shrieks echoed in my own skull. I pulled the knife from its holster. I’d never wished more for a flashlight, a match, anything.

  In the darkness, images began to ignite in my mind—the dragons diving for us on the day the world had ended, their screams rending the air. Hazel, clutched tightly in a demonic talon.

  And the one image I couldn’t face—the one I’d been hiding from. Marcus, trying to save us, climbing onto the dragon’s back. I knew what was coming next.

  I crouched on the ground, clamping my hands over my ears. “No!” I whispered.

  Another scaly wing brushed against me, a scrape of talons against my shoulders. Dragons were going to rip me to shreds, just like they’d done to Marcus.

  A sharp, painful certainty coiled through my chest. Adonis had sent me right into my own personal hell, and I couldn’t even see the way out.

  I fell deeper, lost in the hell of my own memory. If I let the iron door break open on my memories, they’d consume me. Or else, the dragons would.

  A flicker—just a flicker of the blood that had stained the pavement, and I felt as if my mind would rip apart.

  I couldn’t save him. I didn’t save him.

  When I opened my eyes, my breathing started to slow again. Strangely, light was blooming around me, radiating from my own body over the cave. Apparently, some of the Old Gods’ power had stuck with me since I’d plunged that knife into the silver branch. My terror must have sparked it.

  I swallowed hard, staring at the domed, stony cave. It wasn’t some kind of hellish dungeon. It seemed to be a rookery for dragoniles, and they swooped in wide arcs below the ceiling. My breath caught at the beauty of them—stunning shades of violet, gold, and blue, their scales faintly iridescent.

  I looked down at my own body, beaming with radiant light, then I gaped at the illuminated ceiling, the dragoniles. They seemed to delight in my light, unleashing cheerful squawks.

  “A Bringer of Light.” A deep voice echoed off the ceiling, slicing through the reptilian squawks.