Taste My Wrath (The Iron Fae Book 1)

by Debbie Cassidy

  “I know you, Danika. Internal monologues are your vice.”

  “What if they are?”

  I strode ahead, moving sinuously and easily from pocket of darkness to pocket of darkness through the icy streets while the moon played peekaboo behind a cluster of fluffy clouds. I had permission to be out after curfew, but what I was about to do broke all the laws.

  Killion jumped onto the roof of a nearby home, morphing into a big cat and bounding ahead. “You do what you must to prepare yourself for the night ahead.”

  I watched him balance easily, running like the wind across the shingled roofs. Gah, I wish I could do that, not the running across the roofs because I could totally do that. No. I wanted to do the whole morph thing, but it was a skill that couldn’t be taught, according to Killion. To shift like that, I’d need to be what he was, and who the hell knew what that was? I could blend easily into the darkness, though. Killion had taught me that much. Pretty useful when it came to hiding from the night denizens. The hobbs and imps that prowled the streets after nine. This was their time, and any human caught outside after hours was fair game. It was the main reason for the curfew.

  The night belonged to them. They might be smaller and less humanoid, but they were nasty, evil little buggers who dressed up their games in the guise of mischief. Mischief didn’t mean losing an eye or your intestines. Mischief shouldn’t leave you dying in a ditch. But that was how the fuckers played. Not with me, though. My guard status provided me protection, not that I’d be using that tonight.

  Tonight, I couldn’t be seen.

  Killion leaped off the building and landed beside me, morphing into his humanoid form: broad-shouldered, tapered waist, and an ass that begged to be squeezed. God, I was a degenerate.

  He glanced over his shoulder at me, as if sensing me ogling him. I tore my gaze from his butt to his startling blue eyes. It was the only part of him that never changed. Piercing and knowing, those eyes could be as cold as the winter frost or as warm as a summer sea. Right now, I could swear they were tinged with amusement.

  Oh, shit, did he know I was checking him out?

  I couldn’t be checking him out. He was Killion. Mentor Killion. The man who’d taught me how to survive. I had no idea how old he was either; I mean the guy didn’t seem to age.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask before I swallowed the words. If I asked questions, he invariably left.

  I needed him to stay.

  Especially tonight.

  We were starving to death out here on the outskirts of Middale. The shining ones claimed to be our saviors, but over the last decade, food had become scarce in the outer districts, something to do with trade disputes with the other courts. Winter might have a grip on the capital, but Summer and Autumn had the fruit and the harvest. From what I’d picked up, they were cutting shipments. No idea why. In the inner city, heat and food were taken for granted. In the outer districts, they were a luxury.

  Reminding myself of this fact made what I was about to do less taboo.

  “Are you sure about this?” Killion asked.

  “Am I sure I want to steal food from a wanker who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself? Yeah, I’m sure.”

  Killion’s chuckle warmed my heart, and a thrill shot through me. We were about to raid, and I was a sick bitch because it gave me all the flutters. It excited me more than a man’s breath on my cheek or his hand down my pants.

  Yeah, I needed help.

  And here we were at the location. Ooh, be still my beating heart.

  Ned Lander’s three-story townhouse sat staring back at us from behind carefully constructed iron gates. No idea why he wanted iron gates. The only thing iron did was keep bleak at bay; it had no effect on the lesser shining ones or anyone else, for that matter. They were impressive gates, though, all swirly metal and tall pikes. Ned was obviously a showman. Still, it wasn’t keeping me out.

  Scaling the fence took less than two seconds, and then I was running across the neatly clipped lawn bordered by fancy bushes. Killion beat me to the side of the house. Staking that he was in charge.

  Show-off.

  Hell, if I could do that blur move thing he did, then we’d see who was boss.

  I ran up the side of the house and around back. The lawn here was wild. Ha, Ned was obviously all about what people could see. Looked like he hadn’t bothered introducing the grass here to a mower in a long while.

  “Over there,” Killion said, and shot off through the swaying grass like an arrow.

  I followed him onto a roughly hewn path. The grass here was flattened by regular traversing. Ned and his heavy boots, no doubt.

  There it was. The thing I’d come for. A shelter door rose out of the ground. A neat bolt hung from the lock. Pfft. Yeah, that wouldn’t keep me, the lock pick extraordinaire, out.

  “Wait,” Killion warned.

  His shadow form brushed my leather-clad arm as he passed, and a zing skimmed up my neck.

  Two lots of physical contact in one day. Be still my heart.

  I cleared my throat and repressed a shiver of pleasure. “What is it?”

  “An alarm. The padlock is simply for show.”

  I saw it now. The slender black wire that almost blended into the dark wood of the shelter door. I followed it across the door and up until it connected to a small black box. The box looked like a hinge, but it wasn’t.

  Sneaky fucker.

  Oh, Ned, Ned, Ned, you think you can outsmart me, eh? I’m the mistress of deception, the master of disguise, the—

  “Um, Danika, I’d prefer it if we completed this mission tonight.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  I grabbed my tiny pocketknife, loaded with itsy-bitsy tools, and set to work on the alarm. Cheap make. He probably hadn’t expected anyone to notice it.

  Killion moved closer, and his warm breath fanned across my nape.

  My pulse did a jig. “Personal space, mister.”

  “Spoilsport.” Amusement laced his melodic tone, and my hand almost slipped.

  Focus, Dani. It’s Killion. Just Killion. I so needed to get myself a guy so I could target my fantasies elsewhere. I couldn’t risk losing him, and getting too close always sent him running.

  The blinking red light inside the box died.

  I stepped back. “Clear.”

  The padlock snapped easily beneath my fingers. I pushed open the door and dove into darkness.

  Killion flipped on the lights, and the chamber was illuminated. Shelves and shelves of goods. Sacks of flour and rice. Tins of food, packets of biscuits, and instant mash, bars of chocolate, and packets of tea. Anger wrestled with triumph.

  Ned had been skimming from the central district deliveries for weeks now. Food that was meant to stock the market shelves was stocking his. Fucker. Well, he was about to get owned. This shit was now mine.

  Now, for the piece de resistance.

  I pulled a folded square of fabric from my pocket and unfurled it with a flick of my wrist. My trusty magic sack. When Killion gifted it to me a year ago, I’d asked him if he’d robbed Santa Claus. Not that we were permitted to celebrate the ancient tradition any longer, but I’d read about it.

  The sack could hold a helluva lot of shit. “Let’s load her up.”

  We set to work, filling the sack, but no matter how much we put inside, the bag remained empty. Where did the food go? Who knew? But it was there. Ready for unloading later.

  We moved fast, working until the shelves were almost bare. Once we’d cleaned out Ned’s shelter, I gathered the sack and folded it back into a square before popping it into my pocket. Damn, it was a cool piece of equipment. The word magic popped into my head, but I brushed it aside because even though the shining ones brought enchantments and magic with them, there was nothing magical about my life. Still, I literally had a mini-warehouse in my pocket, which was all kinds of cool.

  “Someone’s coming,” Killion said.

  I pulled my hood low and yanked up the scarf tied a
round my neck to cover the lower half of my face. Killion melted into darkness, but I stood my ground, drawing my twin daggers from the holsters at my slender hips.

  “What the fuck!” Ned’s muscular form ambled through the door into the room. He stopped and stared at me, and then his eyes lit up like he couldn’t believe his luck, like heck, his birthday had come early. “Well…Black Raven?” He raked me up and down with beady eyes. “I’ve heard all about you. I’ve been waiting for you to try your luck with me.” His gaze flicked to the empty shelves, and his brow furrowed. “Where?”

  Yeah, fucker, where’d it all go, huh? How did I do it? I didn’t speak. Not yet. Killion and I had a drill. I sensed my mentor to my left, hidden in the shadows by the exit. His sapphire eyes would be pinned on me, ready, waiting for me to make my move.

  Ned stomped into the room. “You think your little knives will stop me?”

  Duh, yes. I could gut him like a pig if I wanted to, but that wasn’t the plan. Rule number one. No killing humans, unless absolutely necessary.

  He rolled his shoulders and made huge fists out of his massive hands. “Nah. I’m about to break you.” He licked his lips. “Maybe I’ll take a look at what’s under that coat of yours, taste your goods a little.”

  Killion’s tension was a palpable pressure at the base of my neck. He was ready to act, to reveal himself in order to protect me. I shook my head slightly, and Ned caught the movement.

  He let out a bark of laughter. “No? Scared, little raven?” He hitched up his pants and advanced slowly, his filthy intentions written all over his gruff face. “I wager you’ll enjoy it.”

  For the first time since Killion made the rules, my palms itched to break them. I’d heard about Ned’s appetites and about the bairns he’d sired on unwilling women.

  My blades ached to sink into his flesh. Maybe just a slice. Maybe just a little blood.

  No.

  Killion’s warning filled my mind.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and grit my teeth. Fucking hated it when he did that.

  Ned lunged for me but caught only air because I was already at the door. I paused and looked back at him, reveling in the shock written all over his stupid face.

  My wicked smile was hidden by my scarf. “Consider yourself owned, bitch.”

  It was Killion’s voice, undeniably masculine, and Ned’s brows came together in confusion. Female body, male voice. What the fuck?

  But I was already gone, running into the night with my cargo and my mentor loping at my side in wolf form. Another haul. Another night of gifts to deliver.

  Ned got lucky I didn’t take his balls along with the cargo.

  We took the alley routes to avoid being spotted by the night denizens and were about to take to the roofs when I heard the screams.

  “No.” Killion grabbed my arm.

  Ah, shit. “Maybe we can help?”

  “No,” he said again.

  “Please, let me go!” The voice was male. Young.

  I broke away from Killion and ran toward the mouth of the alley, but Killion snagged me around the waist, hauling me against his chest before I could break cover.

  His hand came down over my mouth, cutting off my cry of horror, just as the man in the street screamed, a blood-curdling sound that froze my blood and brought tears to my eyes.

  Redcaps surrounded him as he lay on the ground clutching his torso. These night denizens were small, barely two feet high, with wide mouths filled with too many teeth and beady black eyes that shone silver in the moonlight. They didn’t wear clothes, didn’t need them because their skinny, pale limbs were resistant to the cold. They hopped about in excitement, their genitals shrunken walnuts bobbing between their legs. But the part of their anatomy that chilled my bones were their freakishly long fingers topped with razor nails that they used to slice and gouge, and from the looks of it, they’d exercised this skill on the poor man.

  His face was bloody, his mouth bleeding, and wet slimy entrails trailed across the ground.

  Chop it up, gather it good. Feasting tonight.

  Oh, fuck, I could hear them. I could understand them.

  The eyes, we takes the eyes.

  The tongue be good.

  The toes, we likes the toes.

  They descended on his writhing, screaming form, ready to tear him apart.

  No. I struggled in Killion’s arms. We had to help the guy. But Killion’s grip was unrelenting. I caught the flash of a blade raised by one of the ugly little redcaps, and then we were flying back into the alley and up into the air with the man’s scream echoing behind us.

  “We could have saved him, we should have.” I sobbed into my elbow, squeezing my eyes shut to try and eradicate the image of the dying man and his butchered body. “They were chopping him up alive like he was an animal. Fuck, even animals are killed before being butchered.”

  We were a block away, on the rooftop of an abandoned bookstore. Icy cold seeped through my clothes and kissed my butt, but I didn’t care.

  “He is an animal to them,” Killion said. “He’s meat, nothing more, and he broke curfew.”

  “We let him die.” I glared at Killion, anger and impotence a band around my chest.

  “He was already dead.”

  “We could have put him out of his misery.”

  “And then what?” Killion glared back at me, his blue eyes glowing in his shadowy face. “They would have gone for you.”

  “I’m a guard.”

  “That doesn’t allow you to interfere with their activities. He was theirs by law to do with as they pleased. They would have been in their rights to defend their haul.”

  “We could have taken them.”

  “All twenty of them? They’re small, but they’re fast, powerful. I wasn’t prepared to take the risk, especially considering the cargo you’re carrying. If we failed and left even one alive, if they overpowered us and searched you…”

  Oh, fuck. I dried my tears with my sleeve. “I hate this. I fucking hate them.”

  “I know.” He sounded sad, and my anger toward him melted like the snow leading up to the Spring Court.

  I took a shuddering breath, aware how late it was, and how much we still had to get done tonight. There were people depending on me.

  I lifted my chin and met his gaze. “Okay, let’s finish up.”

  We started at the outer edge of the district and delivered packages to all the homes. The night denizens didn’t usually venture this far out, and I was thankful for that. I needed to forget what I’d seen. I needed to scrub the images from my mind, but the only thing to do was to push them into the dark place where the painful, horrific shit was stored.

  Instead, I focused on making the deliveries. Each time I put my hand in the sack, it gave me what I needed. Flour, rice, chocolate, tins of beans, and peas. We left gifts on all the doorsteps. While we worked, the chill didn’t matter. The cold fogging my breath in the air was insignificant, and the numbness tingling in my fingers was a minor discomfort. Providing for all the homes that were starving felt amazing. Killion was right. If we’d exposed ourselves to the redcaps, it would have been for nothing. There was no saving that man, no putting him back together. We’d probably have been caught, and then all these people would have gone hungry.

  Two hours later, sack almost empty, we headed home.

  Home was the mid-section of the outer district. The houses here leaned close together as if huddling for warmth against the icy air, smoggy from chimney smoke blocking out the twinkling stars above. The streets were narrow and cluttered with debris. The rubbish collectors only ventured this far once a month, and sometimes not at all.

  There was no missing my house, though. It was the one with a blue door decorated with pretty red symbols, courtesy of Auntiji. She wasn’t an actual blood relative, but an older lady my parents adopted a few years back when she became too frail to live alone. Auntiji said the symbols warded away evil.

  When I reminded her that the iron around Middale did th
at just fine and that the bleak couldn’t get to us here, she merely smiled as if to say there were more evil things right here in the city.

  She felt it, too.

  I know she did.

  She felt the wrongness of the shining ones. I’d been tempted to just blurt it out, to ask her straight up, but if I was wrong, then I risked arrest. Speaking out against the shining ones was an offense. I’d done it as a child and earned a slap from my mother for my efforts.

  I’d realized that day that not everyone saw the shining ones like I did. Not everyone felt the façade, the malice, and the conviction they were using us. The general population was content to plod along. If only I could live like that.

  Thank goodness for Killion.

  I could be myself with him.

  I climbed the steps quickly, eager to get into the warmth. Papa would be nursing his pipe by the hearth and feeding twigs to the fire to keep it burning all night long. Ma would probably be in the kitchen preparing the evening meal, the brats would be causing havoc, running around, arguing, or if Ma had exercised the sharp side of her tongue, they’d be sitting neatly at the table finishing up their homework, and Rav…Rav would be locked in his room as usual.

  My stomach cramped at the thought of my older brother. My best friend, my confidant until…I shoved the memory away. No point dwelling on the things that couldn’t be changed.

  Killion hovered on the doorstep as I inserted the key into the lock.

  It was time to say goodbye.

  Urgh, I hated this time of day. I tipped my head to the side coquettishly. “You wanna sneak up to my room?”

  “Your room?”

  Heat flooded my veins as he took a step closer. “I mean, no one has to see you. I mean… Where do you go, anyway?”

  Oh, fuck. No questions, remember, Dani.

  His eyes narrowed.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He sighed and backed away. “Until tomorrow night, little raven.”

  And then he was gone.

  Damn, I hated that I missed him already. I stepped into the heat of the house, closed the door, and leaned against it.