Guardians of Hellfire (Guardians of the Fae Book 2)

by Elizabeth Hartwell

  The sibilant whisper stops me, more than enough to tell me that taking these things off must not be a good idea. Instead, I focus on my other problem . . . where I am.

  This isn’t the sort of neighborhood where standing around in the street and looking lost is a good plan for surviving the next ten minutes. I need to find some cover. Swallowing my fear, I start searching the neighborhood, doing my best not to look out of place.

  “Excuse me, have you seen four Fae men?” I ask every few people I see. For the most part, everyone is ignoring me. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. Honestly, there’s plenty of men around and I could be talking about anyone. They give me looks of fearfulness, and a few have turned up their noses at me, one even calling me a traitor. Whatever that means.

  I keep going, not knowing if I’m heading closer to the walls of Lunare or further away with the way the streets twist and turn, dead-ending from time to time with absolutely no warning at all. I do know I’m getting into an even worse area. The buildings look shabbier, the people more ragged. The men start to carry an edge of danger and the women a look of wary fear. Most of them look like they don’t trust anyone, least of which a strange woman asking questions.

  “Where are you guys?” I murmur as the air starts to chill me. I hug myself, my eyes darting to the group of dangerous-looking men hanging outside a building with a bloody pig’s head on the sign above the door, most likely a saloon of some kind. Further down the street, two women, obviously prostitutes, display their wares and try to find their next customer.

  Up ahead, I see my Dark Rider again, mounted on his horse in the middle of the street, but nobody else seems to notice him. People just flow around him like he’s a tree sticking out of a stream, moving to the side so unconsciously that I doubt that they even know they’re doing it. I stop, terror threatening to undo my knees when someone bumps into me and I feel my right bracer yanked off.

  “Hey, come back here!” I yell as I see a street urchin disappear up the road. I take off after him, panic adding speed to my legs, but I’m in boots and a dress while this kid’s a native of these streets. Every time I swear that I’m about to catch up, he darts between a stall or around a corner or something that gives him a second or two to stretch a lead while I try to adjust.

  And he’s fast for his age, too. Weaving and dodging among the crowd, I struggle to keep him in sight, nearly losing him when my left foot slips on something.

  Suddenly, up ahead, the little thief is almost yanked off his feet by a pair of arms that come out of an alley and drag him backward. He cries out in surprise. “No! Wait—”

  “Hey, Jimmy, long time no blink,” one of the boys says as I get to the end of the alley. He shoves Jimmy, who goes sprawling. “Didn’t ken you coming to these parts again, not after your little snatch.”

  “Guys, come on, it was just a rib,” Jimmy says, trying his best to hide my bracer but failing.

  “Yeah . . . well, now you gotta recomp,” another boy, more like a young man from the look of him, says. Jimmy eats a punch to the nose, and I can’t hold back anymore.

  I step into the alley, doing my best to act like I belong here. “Let the kid go.”

  The ruffians stop and look up. “Who are you, dustwhore? You’re not his mummy. She’s slurping twinks down by the wall.”

  “It doesn’t matter who I am,” I growl. I don’t know these people, but if I want my bracer back, I need to get involved. “Let the boy go and return the bracer to me. Or else.”

  I try to be as threatening as I can. If they want to press the issue, I don’t have a weapon, and something tells me from the look of them that they do. Not that I’d shoot, but a gun makes one hell of a negotiation tool. The older of them, I think the leader, laughs. “Lookie what we got here. Bitch thinks she’s a Guard or sumthin . . . well, we know what to do with whores or Guards around here.”

  He whistles, and out of the shadows and cracks, another three boys and a young man seem to appear, surrounding me. They taunt me, calling me names as I measure my options. They’re probably not too experienced with someone with my level of training, but they’re not going to fight fair, and street fights aren’t like in the movies, where the bad guys all line up and let you take them out one at a time.

  If I’m going to survive this, I either need to haul ass or summon my powers.

  Chapter 9

  Jacob

  Lunare, when seen from a hundred meters up in the air, looks sort of like a doughnut with a bite taken out of it. The mostly pristine inner city is ringed on three sides by the slums of the outer city, which he’s focusing on now. If she’s been brought inside the city, then things just got a lot worse.

  Tyler’s more experienced at recon, but for all his sharp eyes and noble heart, he hasn’t waded in the twisting alleyways and dead-end streets of the outskirts. Jacob has, and as he studies the area of the outskirts known as the Warrens, he can see all the little twists and turns that someone else would miss. He knows the dark side of Lunare better than almost anyone.

  It’s actually insane for Jacob, in a certain way. For most of his time in the Queen’s Guard, he’s reveled in being the infiltrator, the spy, the one who can slip in under cover of darkness and get whatever needs to be gotten before disappearing like a fart in the breeze. For him, that meant not relying on his sight, but all of his senses, to the point that now, even in the daytime, he can navigate his way around a crowded street blindfolded while balancing one of his blades on his palm.

  Not feeling at home among the Fae or the humans on Earth, he understands more than the others the abysmal conditions outside Lunare’s walls and the way the people there live. The Lunarian humans are in a bad way. The Fae realm’s inherent beauty had drawn their ancestors, but they were trapped under Cassina’s thumb, second-class citizens or worse. It wasn’t the same throughout the realm, but that was a small comfort. Jacob only wished he knew a way to do something about it.

  Shit.

  Cole. Jacob tries to look over some of the narrower back streets more closely as he responds over their link. What?

  I lost her scent, Cole replies. I can’t track her.

  Double back to the last place you had her scent, Tyler says.

  There’s a pause and that makes Jacob grow a little concerned. Cole and Tyler have been acting weird lately. There’s been some tension between them, and Jacob thinks he knows why. The two feel the same way he does about Eve . . . yet both of them are so old-fashioned and noble at heart they don’t realize that their Princess isn’t the sort to be tamed by any one man.

  In Jacob’s case, he’s happy to have her as she is now, and if fate has other things in mind, he’d get over it in time. At least he tells himself that, even if the words ring hollow.

  No matter what, fighting among themselves is of no help to anyone.

  Well, are you picking up anything unusual? Noah sends back. I’m not exactly having any luck.

  That’s because the Outlings see you, and they run, Tyler replies. They expect you to turn purple and wear green pants.

  Tyler, leave the cultural jokes to me. You have the color completely wrong, Jacob chides as he scopes out the near side of the Warrens. It’s one of the worst human slums in the outlying areas, and Jacob shivers. The Warrens is one of the oldest, dirtiest, and most dangerous areas, a place where even the Lunarian Guard won’t go unless they’re in a group.

  I just smell . . . sweat and blood, Cole repeats.

  Great, Jacob replies. So what do we need to do, look for an abattoir?

  There’s a pause, and when Cole comes back, he sounds relieved. That’s exactly what we need to look for, a butcher’s shop or something like that.

  Suddenly, Jacob sees something. TROUBLE, Jacob says. You three get to the Warrens as fast as you safely can.

  What do you see? Cole asks.

  Blood. Trouble . . . and blood. You were right, next to a butcher’s shop.

  As Jacob nears the commotion, he hopes his eyes are deceiv
ing him. Because Eve’s bracer . . . isn’t where it’s supposed to be.

  Chapter 10

  Eve

  The gang of kids all look at me like honey badgers, no fear in their eyes as their two leaders grin. “Well, well, lookie here. Cunny needs an education. Boys, if you don’t mind?”

  “I’m not afraid of you,” I snarl, glancing behind me. But I’m surrounded on each end of the alley. The walls are too tall for me to move and are too narrow for me to even think of moving around them. I’m trapped, nowhere to go. “Go home to your mothers.”

  “You hear that, boys?” the other older one says, grabbing his crotch. “Cunny says she ain’t tremblin’. I have a thought.”

  “What’s that?” another asks. “An education for the boys?”

  “Yep. They can learn how to run a plow on a cunny. Then maybe they can demonstrate on Lil’ Jimmy’s sweet bum.”

  “All you have to do is let the boy go, and we’ll be on our way.” I don’t know why I’m sticking up for Jimmy. The little heathen stole one of my bracers, bringing me to the brink of disaster. I can feel my power and my anger growing with every heartbeat, barely held back by the bracer on my left wrist. But this seems like the best way to get the all-important item back.

  Besides, he’s a kid. He probably doesn’t know any better. Someone taught him what he knows, and I know a thing or two about kids being products of their environment. I remember what it took to survive in the orphanages, the way rules become flexible when you’re talking about protecting your own.

  “I promise you, I’m tougher than I look. I won’t go down easily,” I say with my most menacing look.

  Something in my voice makes one of the older boys pause. “Is this little shit your family?”

  “No,” I reply honestly. “He stole my bracer from me on the street a few minutes ago.”

  The gang leader scoffs. “Then what do you care what happens to him? He’s a grubby little thief who will get his just desserts . . . just like you’re about to.”

  He grins, leering at me, and I get his meaning. Sliding a foot back, I take a moment to really measure my odds. Seven on one, although I’m betting five at first with the two older boys sitting back and directing their hyenas. Regardless, it’s a long shot that I can take all five. They’re street-smart and deadly. I can already see the glint of light on a shiv or knife in two of their hands.

  Free me, the voice says inside. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a glimpse of dark armor, and I know it’s the Dark Rider again in my mind. Take off the other bracer and show them what you can do. Show them what real power is.

  The voice is seductive, and I almost reach to take it off, but before I can, one of the boys lunges forward, trying to grab me. My reaction is pure training, and I spin while at the same time grabbing him by the back of the neck to send him face-first into what looks like a garbage can. He’s lucky, because it slows him enough that his head doesn’t crack against the shoddy plasterwork of the building.

  He yells in rage, and another tries for me whom I knock down with a kick in the upper thigh.

  Suddenly, as I wheel around, a pair of wiry, scrawny arms catches me around the waist, and before I can react, another grabs my right arm, pushing me forward. “Got you now, cunny!”

  I push off the building in front of me, using the narrow alley to my advantage, and I’m rewarded when the three of us fly backward hard, the boy on my back sandwiched in between me and the other wall while the one on my arm gets my elbow in his nose.

  “Argh!” the kid on my arm grunts, letting go to grab his face while the one on my back drops without saying a thing, all the air driven out of him. The pain unlocks an angry, heartless side of me, and I kick back with my right foot, feeling another stiff contact as I knock another of my attackers to the ground.

  I look at the rest of the boys, my instincts completely taking over. A split-second later, they charge me, and despite my throwing one off initially, one catches me with a hardened fist that sends stars shooting across my vision. Another immediately knees me in the stomach, and I sag, pain filling my body.

  I try to stand up, but one of them trips me and I fall back to my knees. The gang leader grabs my hair, yanking it back and grinning at me. “Well, cunny, you’re a tough one, but no mind. I’ll take pleasure in seeing you beg for mercy.”

  Sick dread fills me, and I try to call for help, but before I can, a hard palm slaps me across the mouth. I taste blood and salt on my lips and bells ring in my ears. Somewhere in the hazy distance beyond me, I hear Jimmy struggling, but then someone hits him and he cries out.

  I’m dimly aware that this is all happening fewer than twenty feet from a street, but apparently, nobody notices or gives a shit. It’s that sort of neighborhood.

  I’m pushed against the wall, the gang surrounding me as the leader steps to the fore. He’s reaching for the dirty scrap of leather that’s his belt when suddenly, a scream fills the air. The gang steps back, and I gasp as I see Jacob.

  I’m breathless as he strikes without pausing, without mercy, elbows and kicks disarming three of the gang in less time than it takes me to whisper his name.

  Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the gang leaders coming up from behind, not just a shiv but a knife gleaming in his hand, aimed for the base of Jacob’s skull.

  Free me. It’s the only way, the evil voice inside me says, but before it can even get the words out, I’m yanking the bracer off, getting to my feet.

  “Leave him alone! Jacob!”

  My voice sounds different, but I’m beyond caring as everyone freezes, time seemingly coming to a stop as I throw my hand out, the word automatic on my lips without my even thinking.

  “TAEN!”

  The Faelight forms in an instant, not flittering around like before but as time speeds up again rushing from my hand like a fastball to hit the gang leader in the chest. He screams, his blade dropping to the cobblestone alleyway as he falls shortly after.

  The other older boy holding my bracer drops it to the ground, looking on in shock. I can feel my face stretching in a bloodthirsty, seductive smile that I can’t control as another light forms in my hand before I realize it.

  Power . . . it feels so good.

  “Run a plow, huh?” I taunt, my voice becoming more guttural by the syllable. “Let me teach you boys a lesson.”

  Some of them turn to run, but I see one still standing his ground. In defiance or shock, I’m not sure. Against my will, I don’t even need words this time. It’s just a thought in my head. Taen.

  The green fire flares again inside me, and the fireball flies, the young man barely ducking out of the way, his life on the streets giving the animal enough reflexes to avoid my power once. But he won’t avoid the next.

  Suddenly, strong hands grab my wrist, pushing it skyward, and my next fireball flies into the sky to burst like fireworks as Jacob looks in my eyes.

  He’s yelling at me. I can see the expression on his face, but something has taken hold of me. I see his lips moving, but I can’t hear him. I push him off and he rolls backward while I form more fire in my hands, green bullets that will ignite this entire den and send everyone here a message.

  My prey’s running, but it doesn’t matter. They don’t realize that no matter how fast their legs carry them, it won’t be far enough. I will raze this entire city to the ground. Fae and human alike. They will all die.

  I lift my hands again, but I feel the bracers clap over my wrists, and the rebound of power makes me shriek before blackness overtakes my mind. I start to crumble before strong arms catch me.

  Chapter 11

  Eve

  Slowly, consciousness returns to my brain. What happened?

  I groan as my eyes flutter open. It’s dark, or at least dim enough that I can’t really see, but I’m in a large room. I blink a few times, focus coming in slowly until I can tell there are women in various modes of undress lying around the room in a stupor or muttering incoherently.

&nb
sp; For a moment, I think I’m hallucinating. My head’s pounding so hard, and I’m still woozy. The closest memory like this I can think of is the night I graduated from the Academy. Four classmates and I went to a cop bar in New Haven and closed the place down doing Jack n’ Jell-O shots until two of us collapsed on the floor. I thankfully didn’t, but the next day, I woke up feeling like the entire NHPD Pipe and Drum Corps was practicing inside my skull.

  This is sort of like that . . . minus the bagpipes. I sit up slowly, rubbing at my temples as I try to remember what happened. “Wh . . . where am I?”

  “In a dusthouse,” says a familiar deep voice just above me. He’s keeping his voice low, which probably helps, considering how I feel, and I look up to see Jacob, his face partially concealed by a hood.

  “Where are the others?” I ask, still a little dazed and confused and not sure what to say.

  I look around, wincing as my head starts to sing a little louder, but other than the women, there’s nobody else. “And what’s a dusthouse?”

  “Fairy dust,” Jacob says sorrowfully. “It’s a . . . you know the feeling you get after we have sex?”

  I wait, and Jacob sits down the rest of the way. “So it’s that?”

  “Artificial . . . manipulated and perverted,” Jacob says sadly. “A street drug in my world. As for the others, they’re waiting for us near the exit to Lunare’s sewer system. They had problems with Guard patrols and apparently, the handmaidens are out for a lovely stroll of the poorer quarters on this fine evening. I was heading that direction when we had to make a hasty stop in this dump.”

  “Why on earth would you bring me here?” I ask, rubbing at my temples some more. “God, my head hurts. What did you do, dropkick me or something? I feel like I have a concussion.”