by Maya Daniels
The monstrosity inside me perks up, but unlike before it stays just below the surface of my skin, there but not really there. It’s unnerving, like two people occupying the same body. All that bowing and sprouting bullshit in Gaelic might have been useful. Points to the Fae if I can find a semblance of control. My feet tingle through my boots where the magic feeding the Academy answers, almost as if Soren is giving me his approval to do what I need to. I can never be sure with the old fart, though. He is too lost in his own world and too unpredictable to be able to count on.
The tips of my boots barely touch the ground as I hone in on my target, running diagonally across the clearing to intercept him before he reaches the book. My vision wavers from one blink to the next, and his life energy bursts out, muting every color around him. My thighs are flexing with each step closer and I almost sway to the side when I feel my pupils expanding and contracting to bring him more into focus. That will take some getting used to.
The beefy guy’s head turns in my direction and all the blood drains from his face. The vein on his neck jumps hard once before it starts pounding so fast the idiot might have a heart attack. I have no clue what I look like ,but based on the pale-corpse impression he’s doing, I bet it’s not a pretty sight. Snarls and roars mix with flesh hitting flesh around us. I have to give it to the guy. He doesn’t turn to run from me. A second more passes, his eyes flicking from me to the book and back again as if he’s trying to decide if grabbing it is more important than staying alive.
His jaw clenches with determination and he puts a new burst of speed behind his movements, forcing me to turn at a sharp angle to even have a chance of stopping him before he reaches the book. From the corner of my eye, Leo swipes his claws at the demon he is fighting, his muzzle opening and snapping only inches from the demon’s neck. Dark patches mat his fur in places, which tells me he must’ve taken a few hits himself. The air shimmers and twists again and I grind my teeth. Fenrir better not screw up with his illusion. If I lose the guy, I’m going to kill him myself. The demon fighting the Fae must be keeping him busy if he hasn’t done it yet, though. That works just fine for me.
Another blast of power slams into my chest coming from the trees where Fenrir is fighting. It flings me back and I land on my ass. My tailbone screams in protest, my teeth jarring when I land. An audible “oomph” escapes me as I scrape the shit out of my palms when I try to soften the impact. Jumping to my feet, I see beefy guy lifting on his knees and shaking his head. They could’ve picked a smaller clearing and I would’ve had him by the throat a long time ago. Nothing is easy for me in this damn place. Scrambling up and kicking rocks and dirt behind him, he runs again. I bolt too, almost parallel with him now, but still not within arm’s reach.
We stop at the same time, the open book between us.
“Oh hey.” I grin at him, more a bearing of teeth than a smile. “Nice to see you again. Remember me?”
It looks like his eyes are about to pop out of his head, his face still as white as a sheet of paper. Red capillaries spread like lightning strikes through the whites of his eyes. Chest rising and falling fast—and it has nothing to do with the running—he stands frozen like a deer in headlights. His gaze flicks to the book between us and back to my face again.
Not so scared after all.
“Take it.” My body is so tense I’ll tear a muscle if I move. He startles at my words and my grin grows. “I dare ya.”
Leo yelps and my heart jumps to the back of my throat but I don’t dare look away from the guy. We are now in a standstill, both of us waiting to see who will move first. I’m not worried that he will grab the book and get away because this is more of a game now. I feel the purr vibrating my chest, the excitement of toying with my prey before I kill it pumping through me. Tall trees burst from the ground, making me flinch back in surprise. The trunks stretch up around me, the dark gray bark on the trees seeping thick sludge that emits a cloying, sweet scent. Gnarled branches spread out, thick and twisted like the large knuckled fingers of a skeleton reaching for the sky. There is no leaf in sight. In no time at all, the illusion settles, and beefy guy is hidden from me. I curse up a storm in my head.
That’s what you get for being cocky, Franky.
“Seriously, Fenrir.” Shouting my anger, I try hard to recall where the damn book was before he messed everything up. “You couldn’t fucking wait a second?”
The jerk laughs.
His voice floats through the trees like he is everywhere at once. Damn Fae and their games, even in situations like this. I should expect him to get so caught up in the fight he pushes everything else aside. On the bright side, beefy guy won’t know where it is either. I just need to find him, then I’ll grab the book when the illusion disappears. At least I know how real Fenrir’s illusions are. Definitely not going to touch anything.
I pick my way through this forest of death and shadows, choosing carefully where I place my feet so I don’t make a sound. Twigs and what looks like old, yellowed bones litter the floor.
“You can break the illusion.” A breeze ruffling the short hairs around my face carries a whisper.
Right.
Nails biting the skin of my palms, I breathe through my nose. The sweet scent fills my lungs like poison choking me. For a second, I wonder if Fenrir makes this shit up, pulling it out of his tight, too perfect ass, or if he can only create what he has already seen. Goosebumps cover my arms with the thought that where I’m standing now is actually a real place somewhere. There is no moon in the sky or stars. Light gray fog like cotton presses the tips if the trees, silver lightning flashing through it. Everything is void of color, leaving nothing more than a monochrome world stretching as far as my eyes can see.
Crack!
The snap of a twig or a bone coming from somewhere in front of me is as loud as a bomb going off, echoing through the trees. If what I recall in my mind is right, beefy guy is moving closer to the book. Stopping my movement, I close my eyes and concentrate, pulling on the power thrumming through me just enough to hopefully activate that strange vision where life is revealed. I’m not sure if I break the illusion if he is too close to snatch the damn thing.
The beast inside me answers my call eagerly. The burning under my skin is uncomfortable but somewhat bearable. When I open my eyes, my stomach clenches from all the shadows pulsing and reaching from the trees. The muted red glow from between two large trunks identifies beefy guy, but I stand staring at all the darkness around me. My brain is trying to recall the memory of the terror from seeing the swirling shadows in Sienna devouring a soul. Cold sweat trickles down my back and numbs me.
The guy moves again, and I stay still to give him the false hope that I don’t hear the sound he makes. The red glow that pulses from him gets brighter, slinking closer to where I’m still glued to the spot. It’s enough to help me push down the memories that will make me curl up in a ball. Wiping my damp palms on my pants, I finally make my feet move again. The guy is closer than before but still not too close if my calculations are right.
When I can clearly see the outline of his life energy, I yank on my power as hard as I can. It’s like a blast ripping through my ribcage, my heart stuttering like the wings of a butterfly before my ears pop and the illusion around me blinks out. Surprise, surprise, Francesca Drake miscalculated. Beefy guy is standing right on top of the book, the open pages spread out between his feet. This time he doesn’t hesitate. Not even offering me the time of the day, he bends down, grabs it, and runs. That brings my stupid brain back online.
I bolt after him.
“No you fucking don’t.” Snarling at my stupidity, I pump my arms to gain on him.
The guy is fast. I never check to see what he is, but someone as thick as he is should not be running like that. My mouth dries out when I see that he is not trying to go for the forest to lose me or hide. Oh no, that will be too much to ask. The idiot is shooting like an arrow right at the blinking portal. What are the odds that he will miss the timing
and be unable to get through? Judging from my previous experiences and luck, I say I trip and faceplant on the ground before he screws his timing up.
Something comes to life at the corner of my eye, moving fast and closer to us from the tree line separating the Academy walls from the clearing. I’d love to see exactly what or who it is, but beefy guy is nearing the portal and I don’t have the luxury of satisfying my curiosity. If it’s someone trying to help this asshole, I’ll deal with him after I get the guy. I push with everything in me, my fangs dropping and throbbing in my mouth.
The guy, book gripped in one hand with pages flipping hard enough to rip, reaches the portal just as I’m close enough to grab him. My hand snatches his shirt, my fingers twisting in the fabric. I yank on it as hard as I can, my upper body bending to reverse the momentum. The sound of tearing fabric splits the air, much too loud to my ears. His outraged roar of denial follows soon after. His arms, one hand still holding the book in a death grip, windmills in hopes to shake me off, and I hear Fenrir’s shout behind me.
“Drake no!” the Fae roars, but whoever is moving towards us has reached us.
Beefy guy pulls forward hard, jerking me enough I think my arm is going to pop out of the socket because I have no intention of letting him go. The front part of his body enters the blinking portal. The other person reaches us, slamming full force into both of us. I lock eyes with them for a second. Stunned by a familiar blue gaze, my mouth drops open.
“I got him,” Astara snarls, grabbing the guy and realizing her mistake a moment too late. Gravity snags us in its clutches.
All three of us hit the portal hard, and my whole world turns upside down.
7
I hate fucking portals.
My insides feel like they are being ripped apart then rearranged so I can fit through the tiny hole in a piece straw. It hurts so much that my brain flips a switch, turning off so I don’t scream. It’ll be useless anyway. No one can hear me in this nothingness of swirling colors where I want to die and puke at the same time. Squeezing my eyes shut, I can’t even summon enough energy to freak out when Astara is ripped away from me. At least my hand is so cramped it’s stuck in the position of grabbing the asshole who got me in this mess in the first place, so I can’t let go of him even if I want. Which I don’t. My braid swings wildly, slapping me across the face and arms. Now I also know what it feels like being whipped with a rope.
I should chop the damn thing off.
It lasts forever, this unending tearing of my insides. Being prevented from screaming only makes it worse. I taste blood in my mouth, probably from biting my tongue. The coppery flavor flows down my tight throat. Bile hits the roof of my mouth, while tears rain down my face from my tightly shut eyes. At least I still have the fucker, I keep chanting in my head. I’m going to kill him very slowly the moment we are out of here.
I’m spit out none too gently on the other side, the stench and noise of the human world overwhelming my senses. The weight from the jerk disappears from my outstretched arm, and I drop on my knees vomiting even the food I was fed as an infant. Cold sweat drips from my face like someone has poured a bucket of cold water over my head. My entire body is shaking so hard I’m practically lifting off my knees with each new wave of bile. When the white noise in my ears quiets, I almost laugh hysterically when I hear the asshole is not having any less fun. This time is worse than my first for some reason. When I open my blurry eyes I see why.
Colors pulse and dance around me, only adding to my dizziness. Since I was pulling on the magic inside me when I broke the illusion in our realm, I never actually released it. Sitting back on my haunches, I wipe my mouth with the back of my trembling hand, squeezing my eyes shut with a pained groan when a bright beam blinds me. It’s like a dagger being stabbed in my brain. I pitch to the side, catching myself on one arm when something bumps into my shoulder. Squinting, I watch Astara stumble forward and grab the guy by his hair, yanking his head back.
“You motherfucker, where is my brother?” Her pretty face is twisted in a mask of rage, her snarl showcasing her fangs in all their glory.
“Get the book.” I gasp for air and try to lift myself up.
My elbow gives from my weight and I drop back on my ass like a freaking turtle that’s unable to flip over. There is not enough strength left in me to push back the stupid magic, let along to stop the swirling colors stabbing me behind the eyes. Plopping on my back, I give up the fight and just breathe through my nose, while the guy sounds like he is giving birth. Panting and gagging, he has yet to answer the question.
“Don’t let him get away.” My lips are moving but I’m not sure any sound is coming out.
“He is not going anywhere.” Dread crawls up my throat at the sound of her voice. I guess I did speak.
“The book.” Blowing air through pursed lips, I remind her why we are here.
“I thought you were looking for a way to find my brother when you were creeping around.” The accusation is loud, clear, and like a punch to my chest. “But this was more important?”
Something hits me on the side of my thigh. Still not daring to open my eyes, I fumble weakly with my hand and search for it blindly. The tips of my fingers brush against the pages of the book. I guess she’s so pissed off she kicked it at me. Scratching at the leather, nails digging to get a purchase, I pull it close enough to have it under my arm. My chest caves from the deep sigh that passes my lips.
“I never stopped looking for him.” Mumbling the words, I manage to lift my other hand so I can rub at my eyes. “That asshole will lead us to him. We just can’t let him take the book to Roberti.”
Astara is quiet, but I finally stop feeling like I’m about to die. It’s the little things Franky, I tell myself, wanting to laugh at how stupid that sounds. Slowly, my body feeling like it’s been through a tenderizer, I sit up, feeling empty now that I manage to push the magic away. Blinking away the residual moisture from the tears, Astara and the guy come into focus. My friend is still holding him away from her feet by the hair, probably so he doesn’t puke on her boots. She gives me an accessing once over when our eyes meet.
“You look like shit.” Her lips twitch.
I look down at myself and have to agree with her. Dressed all in black, my clothing is covered in dust and spiderwebs from crawling all over the library shelves. Cold sweat has the fabric sticking to my body, creating even darker patches in spots. Hair has escaped my braid and is sticking to my neck and face, while my thighs and sleeves are sprayed with vomit. I don’t even want to think what my face has on it.
“I look like the end of days survivor.” I sound more awed than disgusted.
Astara snorts.
“What is that damn book anyway?” Instead of answering her, I flip it over so she can see the golden writing on it. “Fuck!” Her hand releases the guy when she takes a step back.
“Yeah.” The guy topples over on his side and I roll my neck, eyeing him. “Sounds about right. So I want to know where he was going to take it.”
He groans.
“How did he get that?” The way she snaps the question tells me she’s not surprised that the book is not burnt like it should have been.
“Any other important details the rest of you are hiding from me or does this top the list?” Pushing off the ground and taking the book with me, I make sure I don’t look at her. I can’t right now. “What other fresh kind of hell is hiding in that Academy that I should know about since, you know, my life is tied to it and all?”
“Franky, I didn’t hide anything from you.” She takes a step closer but my raised arm stops her. “That thing was under wards and I haven’t thought about it for decades.”
“That’s kinda stupid don’t you think?” Locking gazes with her, I grind my teeth. “I’d think that would be the first thing to pop in your head when we have unidentified shadows devouring people through Sienna. And when your brother has been taken by a demigod who’s threatening us with the biggest power we’ve ever s
een.” I dare her to say anything to defend herself.
“I thought he was talking about using you to achieve it.” Her eyes flick to the book and I’m shocked to see the fear there. “No one could be that stupid. Not even greed for power could make anyone do something suicidal like using that book.”
I look around for the first time. Another alley, this one void of dumpsters, stretches on both sides. Gray walls tower over us too, smooth and windowless. My stomach drops to my feet when, ahead of us, I see the reason the light stabbed me in the brain when everything was bursting with color earlier. There is some sort of roof stretching between the buildings, leaving this part dark and shadowed, but not where the entrance of the alley meets my eyes.
Daylight.
I start hyperventilating, and not even knowing that it can’t reach me here can stop the panic raging inside me. I’ve never seen daylight. Oh I’ve seen it plenty on TV, but not like this. Not with my own eyes. Something hard hits my back and I realize I am pressing myself to the building and clutching the book to my chest like a shield. Frantically, my eyes dart around so I can assure myself those rays will not come from anywhere else. Yes, I am half Fae, but I’m also some weird, unknown origin that may or may not be able to handle sun well. I’m also half vampire, and although my blood apparently makes Daywalkers, I still might turn into a charred corpse if I step foot in it.
“Francesca, calm down.” Astara’s voice breaks through the buzzing in my ears and I lock my gaze on hers to ground myself. “It’s okay. It always feels like that the first time you see it. Breathe.”