Woe for a Faerie

by Bokerah Brumley

Woe

  Supported by spindle heels, one of my ankles wobbled, and I grabbed at the lamppost to keep from toppling over. Oldest profession in the universe, and I had to wear these ridiculous shoes. The heels were going to end my mortality before it got started. Regaining my balance, I carefully let go of the street light.

  My leather jacket squeaked. It was too small, and these shoes made no sense at all, but all the girls wore them. The thigh-high lace-ups chafed between my knees. Maybe that’s why they’d been in the dumpster. I frowned. My choice to make my own way in New Haven City wasn't turning out as well as I had hoped.

  The weepy fog had turned to a light rain, and my long hair clung to my neck like a noose. Before, it had always been the same day in and day out, unaffected by humidity or rain, but not now.

  My stomach growled, and I pulled my red miniskirt up another inch. I had to eat, and I could be as stubborn as the best of them. I intended to earn my food, and nothing would stop me.

  At least that’s what I’d overheard Jason muttering one night when I stopped by. He’d insisted on feeding me, and I didn’t turn him down. Then I’d gone on my way. I’d win this little challenge. That’s all there was to it.

  Headlights crested the hill. A dark, older model sedan slowed to a crawl as it drove by.

  The window was down about three inches. Between the shadows made by the top of the car and the heavily tinted window, a man peered at me. The car belched a cloud of smoke that trailed behind. When it cleared, he raised shaggy eyebrows. I gave a tiny nod, and the outer corners of his eyes lifted.

  Drops of water on the glass glistened in the street lights, but the stranger didn’t stop.

  I should have smiled. I stomped and nearly knocked myself to the pavement. Maybe I’d remember to smile at the next opportunity.

  The road dipped at the end of the block, right before an intersection. The sedan slowed even more. Then the red of the turn signal blinked. The thin sheen of water on the street reflected the light as long red lines. But the car didn’t move.

  After several minutes, the car made a U-turn. Maybe he didn’t like smiles.

  This part, I’d watched happen a dozen times. I was the only girl in the pool of lamplight, the only one on this street. The other girls ran me off from every other corner.

  There was a rock, maybe a nail, in one of the tires. I could hear it now. The closer the vehicle rolled, the slower the click, but the faster my heart beat. The brakes squeaked and the motor inside the passenger door whirred as the window lowered.

  I bent over and hoped he couldn’t see how much I had to lean on his car to stay upright. Play it cool.

  “Hello.” I smiled this time. “What’s your name, hon?” The dome light came on.

  “John.” He grinned at me like he’d cracked a joke. I didn’t get it. There was a gap between his front teeth. I could see his tongue working back and forth. He pulled a half-crushed box from his jacket, drew a cigarette from it, and offered me the pack.

  I took it, opened the red and white lid, and pulled out a cigarette. I’d never smoked. Three clicks then a flame lit the car interior. He lit his then mine. I just held it between two fingers like I’d seen the other girls do and hoped he couldn’t see me tremble.

  He asked, “How much?”

  Oh. Back to business. “Umm…” I caught my lip between my teeth. What did the girls charge a few streets over? I tried to hand the cigarettes back.

  “Keep it.” John smiled. “Now, honey, don’t play hard to get. I know what you want. You gonna give me what I want?”

  He picked up a wallet from the center console and thumbed through it. He laid a one-hundred-dollar bill on the passenger seat. “What’ll that buy me?”

  My stomach was empty, and I didn’t have a place to stay. “Whatever you want.” My fingertips slipped on the cold door handle. I swallowed the bile that worked its way up my esophagus, and I couldn’t stop the shakes.

  “Come on, sweetheart.” He cleared his throat and cursed under his breath like I couldn’t hear him. “You comin’ or what?”

  I bent over and smiled at him again. “Yeah, just a minute. First time nerves.”

  John scowled. “First time?” He eyed the one-hundred-dollar bill. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “First time… ever?”

  At my nod, a blackish gleam rolled across the whites of his eyes, and the pungent smell of crude oil filled the air. A flash from headlights cast his face in harsh shadows. Something familiar...

  The park. He’d been in the park. He attacked me there.

  I shrank back. My mouth dried up. “What are you?” The heels. I stumbled and grasped the door to catch myself.

  He reached across and caught my wrist before I could step backward again. His grip tightened like a vice, but he chuckled.

  A tremor shook me against the car door panel. “Please. I changed my mind.” My heartbeat jackhammered in my ears. “Let go.”

  “You made a deal, missy. Now get in here.” He yanked hard on my arm.

  Pain crisscrossed my shoulder and spread like fire in my muscles all the way around to my back. I jerked against him. Put the ball of one foot on the car door to help push away. But his fist crushed my wrist bones. I gasped. My other ankle twisted, and I lost my balance and landed on my hip. Pain exploded when my upper thigh scraped against the sidewalk as he tried to pull me upward.

  In both directions, the road was empty. Why did I choose this street? “Help me.” It wasn’t an angry shout, but a pitiful whimper. “Oh, God, help me.”

  The creep had his head stuck out through the window to look at me. He sniffed my wrist. His mouth opened, and the gap in his two front teeth was gone. A forked tongue slipped out.

  He had a forked tongue, and his whole mouth was different now. He wasn’t human. He was a shifter.

  I slapped and punched at the creature with my other hand, but it made no difference. “What are you?”

  He growled, low in his throat. “What are you, little girl? You smell different. I wonder what the Boss wants with you.” He dragged his tongue across his teeth and then across my wrist like a small snake squirming against my skin. Human skin faded to scales. The circle of his human iris morphed into a serpentine slit.

  A sharp pain followed another swipe of his tongue, and he sighed, “Delicious.”

  He was going to eat me.

  My mouth twisted and a gag brought up the previous day’s dumpster meal.

  The wind shifted. A prickle raced the breeze up my spine. The hair on my neck stood up. My belly tingled with a strange excitement.

  I stomped on the door of the car and tried to spin around to see the top of the empty building next to us. I had to squint to see through the rain and fog. Above, two glowing orbs stared down. “Please. Help me.” It was a desperate prayer.

  From the shadows, there came a flutter and a rhythmic whistle like dove wings in the park. A hooded figure leapt from the rooftop down to the fire escape. The metal structure barely shifted as the creature moved from landing to landing. The closer it came, the stronger the tingle in my belly until a dull roar beat against my eardrums. My blood rushed through my veins, and my body broke out in goosebumps.

  It was powerful.

  No, not it. Him―my handsome, muscular him.

  The two sides of his suede shirt met in a “V” that exposed the smooth skin stretched across the hard lines of muscles. Every part of him was chiseled, even his face seemed of stone. It had been only seconds, but his nearness banished my terror. I stopped struggling, entranced by his approach.

  By the time my attacker noticed that my attention had been drawn away, the hard face towered over us.

  My assailant hissed and cursed but did not let go. To Arún, he said, “Who do you think you are?”

  Without a sound, Arún stepped closer, and the grip on my wrist loosened.

  I slipped from the monster’s grasp and backed across the sidewalk until I hit the back of my head against the brick of the building.

&
nbsp; His strong arms pulled the would-be rapist through the open car window and tossed him to the pavement. John yelped, and then someone growled, “She is mine.”

  A dry laugh came from the lizard’s mouth. “I found her first.”

  “She was mine before she knew my face.” He lowered the hood. The points on his ears quivered. “Do not move, Woe.”

  In three strides, he mounted my attacker. His fists blurred as he pounded the torso of the changeling. In a ripple of muscles, he lifted the creature over his head and dropped it to the sidewalk at my feet.

  He met my gaze, and his pupils reflected at the center of the white irises. Furious, he growled, “I told you to stay with the priest.”

  “I’ll do what I want.” I crossed my arms. “Choice is mine.”

  He tilted his head to the side as he studied me. Easily, he lifted the creature and again slammed him to the pavement.

  This time, the stranger grabbed for my feet. Between split lips, he whispered, “Please. Please. Don’t let him murder me.”

  I drew my legs inward, tucked my knees against my chest, and turned away. At that moment, I didn’t care. I couldn’t tip the balance to the good myself, and I wouldn’t turn down help from the winged man.

  With a satisfied nod, my savior grabbed John by the legs and hauled him into the shadows. I didn’t want to see it, but I couldn’t drag my gaze away. He begged for his life in hissing words and promises.

  A low rumble filled the air, and he stared at me with glowing eyes. I couldn’t see his motions, but I heard the snap of bones.

  I scrambled to my feet, second thoughts tearing through my mind.

  “Wait. Wait.” It came out as a double scream.

  The answering silence overwhelmed me.

  God, help me.

  Balance or not, another loss of life suddenly marred my conscience.

  Chest heaving, I tore the shoes from my feet. I didn’t wait for him to step out of the shadows.

  I ran.

  13

  Embrace

  Arún

  The lizard’s foot twitched, his forked tongue slipped out of the corner of his mouth, and his last breath eased out of him in a long sigh, as though his body hadn’t wanted to believe that death had come.

  Breathing hard from the rush of emotions, I stepped away from the lifeless reptile at my feet as Woe’s footsteps receded in the distance. She shouldn’t have been in that part of New Haven City. After dark. Jason had lost my respect and earned a piece of my mind.

  “Woe, stop,” I bellowed, and the words echoed back.

  She didn’t listen.

  I started after her. She willfully courted danger. What was the priest thinking? Letting her free onto the streets as though she had been trained with the ability to defend herself. If she was the queen of my prophecy, what other beings wished to have her for their own?

  Jealousy surged through me, propelling my feet even faster.

  Two blocks later, she darted toward the park, returning to what she knew. The place I’d found her. The place that my heart tied itself to hers, the moment her skin brushed against mine. My mate ran toward the reservoir.

  I groaned at the slip. Woe was NOT my mate.

  Yet, unless I kept close tabs on my thoughts, I already thought of her that way. It would end badly. Curse the Fae propensity to bond. I didn’t need the heartache or the headache of a one-sided soul-mating. Now I’d scared her off with my overzealous rescue.

  At least I had good reason to do what I did. I would do the right thing and report the paranormal death to Jason, but first I had to capture Woe. Because of something I did, she might inadvertently hurt herself.

  She took a left, running along the edge of the dark waters. The pulse of feathers against air slammed against my eardrums. The mental energy from the pizzeria returned, frenzied, homicidal. It circled overhead.

  A honk reverberated through the air, shaking the molecules that made up our surroundings. More wing flaps then a squawk came next.

  Closer than before, another shriek settled over everything like a blanket. I could almost see the sound waves marking the edges of each object. Like… sonar.

  Directly above us, a high-pitched call followed. Another.

  And then I understood.

  It stalked us, homing in on us like bats to a moth. Hunting Woe or hunting me, I couldn’t tell. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. Woe crashed through the briars and burst through the underbrush. Junkies cursed us as we charged by.

  “Woe, stop. Come back,” I called. I couldn’t keep her safe if she was out of my reach.

  Let me catch you. I pushed the thought at her, willing her to hear my intentions.

  She glanced over her shoulder and tripped on a wind-felled branch. Her cries tore at my heart. She hadn’t asked me to, but I’d killed for her. And I would again. As many times as it took to keep her safe.

  She hadn’t agreed to be my consort, but I would be her knight. I halted at her side, taking a wide stance, preparing to defend my ground. I would stand between Woe and the forces that coveted her. I would conquer every realm to keep her safe.

  Magic engulfed me, spreading over me like wildfire. She curled around my feet, her eyes wide, my magic dazzling in the reflection of them.

  At that moment. I was gone. From the depth and breadth of me, I was hers.

  No matter what that meant.

  The lizard would have eaten her, ingested whatever powers she might have, and gone on to ravage others throughout the county. I didn’t count that animal as a loss. Perhaps I should be shocked at my cavalier behavior, but the action had been instinct.

  Losing her would already kill me. The beast had threatened her. He died for it, and I had lost a fight that I had been losing since I’d come to New Haven City.

  Now a new one jeopardized my mate. I would end the winged creature that circled in the clouds above us.

  I lifted my arms and shook my fists at the dark of the sky. “Come and take her.”

  The avian fiend roared back at me but did not descend, and, a moment later, the psychic force diminished. In the distance, a man yelled, but the sound cut out almost immediately.

  There’d be another dead body. Jason would need to know that, too.

  I stared after the retreating fowl. It shouldn’t have given up so easily.

  Woe grasped my ankle, and I crouched down to wrap her in my arms.

  “Arún.” She sobbed my name.

  “How do you know my name?”

  She frowned. “I must have heard Jason call you that.”

  Or the link between us had progressed, and she’d heard it echoed in her dreams the way her name found its way into mine.

  Yet I couldn’t tell her that. I refused to saddle her with that knowledge, so I tucked her to my side. While I waited for her tears to play out, I summoned the warmth of magic and wrapped her in it, sending it through her arms and legs, wishing for the mulled wine of our court instead. It sent away the chill better than anything else.

  “I could feel it getting closer and closer, muddling my thoughts,” she said. “It wanted me to stop running, and I almost did.”

  “But you didn’t,” I scrubbed my hands up and down her arms, “and you’re safe now.”

  Her teeth chattered. Her chill wouldn’t be reached with magic or mulled wine. The horrors of an evil that wanted to consume her caused the cold. I would have to return her to Jason before shock set in.

  “It wanted to devour me,” she continued as though I hadn’t spoken at all. She hiccupped once and then sagged against me. “They both did.”

  “That is true.”

  “But you kept me safe.”

  “It is my duty.”

  She drew away from me then, the street lights cast harsh shadows, throwing her scowl into high relief. “Why would you do that?”

  I didn’t know what to tell her. I wasn’t ready to admit the bond to her.

  For good or bad, I couldn’t allow the reality of what already was impact wha
t might come next.

  14

  Assemble

  Jason

  Our Lady of the Park Catholic Cathedral

  One door of the church stayed unlocked. I pressed against it, contemplating the thick oak relics from times past.

  Legend stated that a branch from the tree out of which these doors had been carved had been fashioned into a stake by the Bishop of Beauvais, Pierre Cauchon. He tied Joan of Arc to this stake and burned her. The tree had supernaturally wept sap from its wound for years after and the drips had bloomed into white perennials on the forest floor.

  When a fire threatened the fabled tree, a local monk had tried to dig it up, killing it instead. He called for other monks to help make parts for his church. The original church disappeared in a cleansing of one kind or another and these doors arrived at the behest of one of my predecessors. I wasn’t sure I believed it, but it was a fascinating legend.

  Some of the old books conjectured that the sap still held magic. Yet the wood didn’t smell of enchantment or wizardry.

  Above ground, the church was Catholic. I had been trained to conduct mass when I’d taken vows to protect mortals. It helped keep up the façade. The church considered me something like a black sheep friar, not exactly part of their flock—less than a priest, but willing to let the world outside believe I was one.

  On high days and holy days, I unlocked both doors and invited locals in for the real priest to conduct services. Through the years, interest had dwindled. We rarely had enough attendees to justify a weekly mass. The daily masses had stopped in the eighties.

  It was a mixed blessing. Fewer observers meant it was easier to disguise our real, on-going purpose, the reason I remained in this assignment, but, to me, fewer people also meant something more dismal for hope in the hearts of men.

  Bishops, Archbishops, and Cardinals only admitted my existence with a hiss from curled lips, their admission flavored with disgusted expressions. I suspected that they disliked the lack of control when it came to the basement.