To Kill a Fae © 2019 by Jamie A. Waters
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Cover Art by Deranged Doctor Designs
Editor: Beyond DEF Lit
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ISBN: 978-1-949524-17-8 (Hardback Edition)
ISBN: 978-1-949524-16-1 (Paperback Edition)
ISBN: 978-1-949524-15-4 (eBook Edition)
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2019911511
First Edition *September 2019
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Also by Jamie A. Waters
About the Author
An owl hooted in warning.
Sabine brushed her fingers against the handle of a throwing knife strapped to her thigh, but she didn't alter her stride. Boots crunched upon the cobblestone street behind her at a steady beat, keeping pace with her. Whoever had decided to follow her this evening hadn’t bothered to mask their intent. The weight of the weapons she carried was a small reassurance, but it was no guarantee of safety.
She turned the next corner, angling her head to catch a glimpse of the people trailing her. A shaft of moonlight illuminated both men’s features enough to be certain she didn't know them. Not only that, but they were too well-armed to be out for a midnight stroll. She frowned and adjusted her cloak to better cover her silvery-white hair and continued walking. It wasn’t an uncommon color in the city, but it was still distinctive and far too recognizable.
Approaching footsteps from an adjacent alley caught her attention. It might be a coincidence, but it wasn’t likely in this part of town. Sabine didn’t travel to the more affluent areas of Akros often, and when she did, it was rarely on the surface streets. She was too recognizable—being noticed was something she needed to avoid. If she hadn’t agreed to meet with a prospective informant with the hope of learning more about the strange rumors surrounding the city council, she wouldn’t be in this situation now. Unfortunately, he’d been as clueless as everyone else. No one wanted to talk about what the council was doing—and that was one more thing to make this situation more infuriating.
At the next intersection, Sabine glanced down the adjacent street. It was a dead end. Mentally kicking herself for her earlier cockiness, she debated her limited options. If they were trying to herd her to a place of their choosing for an ambush, another man would be waiting on the next street—she was sure of it.
Stupid. So stupid. What had possessed her to ignore every lesson shoved down her throat since arriving in the city almost ten years earlier? The shadows surrounding her had become like a second skin—one she’d grown accustomed to wearing. Most people barely noticed her presence anymore, unless she specifically tried to draw attention to herself. For her, such behavior was akin to suicide.
Sabine listened to the leisurely pace of the footsteps following her. So far, her would-be assailants weren't in a hurry to engage her. If she could manage to make it closer to the wharf, she'd be back within safe territory. Safer for her, at least. The same couldn't be said for most others, including the ones currently trailing her.
The streets in this part of town were mostly quiet at this time of night. Businesses were closed, and the good citizens of Akros were safely tucked in their beds. Those who wandered the streets usually risked their purses being lifted and any removable belongings stripped by morning. Of course, that was assuming they managed not to have their throat slit. Shadows came out to play at night, and only the clever or lucky usually survived.
For the most part, Sabine didn't worry about the threat of the miscreants who may be lurking within these darkened streets. They knew enough to leave her unhindered; her associates had made sure of that. The fact Sabine was a target now was more than a little curious—and equally worrisome. It was unlikely this ambush was random, especially since the streets were uncharacteristically empty. Not even a few drunks or beggars loitered in any nearby doorsteps.
She frowned and took a deep breath, inhaling the faintest trace of magic permeating the night air. It was subtle enough she hadn’t noticed it right away. It had the feel of a witch or wizard’s spell, which was part of the reason she hadn’t paid much attention. Most witches and wizards were human who relied on nature magic in the form of herbal tinctures and poultices. Only a rare few had enough power to be much of a threat.
Sabine took another deep breath and nearly stumbled as recognition slammed into her. It was definitely a witch, but there was also a trace of a different sort of magic. It took everything in Sabine’s power to keep moving at the same leisurely pace when every instinct warned her to flee. Somewhere in this witch’s family tree was a Fae, and that type of magic was much more dangerous, especially to Sabine. The witch’s spell had been carefully woven to be little more than a suggestion, encouraging mundane passersby to travel another direction. It was a clever bit of magic, and its passive nature hadn’t triggered the warding bracelet around her wrist to warn her. Someone had paid a hefty bit of coin for such a spell.
She fingered the hilt of her blade again, preparing for the inevitable. Given the costly spell and the location, it was even less likely this was a coincidence. But something wasn’t quite right. If they had guessed her identity, they wouldn’t have sent humans after her—even if a part-Fae witch had created the spell. She needed to think, but she had to lose her tail first. Unfortunately, her options were somewhat limited.
She started to turn down another alley but hesitated at the sight of the last man.
“Damn. This is bad,” she muttered under her breath. Turning away, she heard the footsteps behind her move faster. She only had a handful of seconds before they intercepted her. Scanning the empty street, she noticed several of the buildings in this area were abandoned rather than simply closed for the evening. Her assailants had chosen well, and she'd been a fool to fall so neatly into their trap. If she was going to do something, the time was now.
Taking a steadying breath, Sabine caught a faint whiff of the nearby sea. She slipped off the warding bracelet and dropped it into her pocket before opening herself to the pulse of the night. Even if she could perform magic while wearing it, she wasn’t willing to risk anything interfering with what she was about to attempt.
The moist air tickled her skin, and she allowed the moonlight to penetrate through her protective barriers. Power flared within her briefly before she managed to wrest control of it. The longer she went without actively using her magic, the more difficult it became to suppress it. She wouldn’t need too much, but it was dangerous without her usual protections in place.
She inhaled and gathered her power, infusing her very breath with elemental magic. When she exhaled, she projected her magic skyward. The moon slipped behind the cloud cover and darkened the area. She was too exposed to risk using more magic. It would have to be enough. Sabine took the opportunity to duck into a doorway and crouched down to wait.
“Where did she go?�
�� one of the men whispered loudly.
“She’s got to be here somewhere,” another one snapped. “Find her, or we don’t get paid.”
Sabine withdrew one of her knives and pressed the poison dispenser on the hilt as she listened to the footsteps hurrying on the pavement. When one of them was close enough, she threw the blade in his direction and rolled forward. A howl of pain signaled she’d hit her mark. The lethal poison would keep him busy—in perpetuity.
Springing to her feet, she pulled another knife free just as someone grabbed hold of her. Lashing outward, she swiped her knife deeply across his forearm.
“Fuck! She cut me!”
The moment he released her, she spun away. The third man grabbed her from behind, jerking her backward. A sharp, stinging sensation burned along her side as his knife sliced across her skin. Ignoring the pain, she stepped down hard on his insole.
Sabine’s long, silvery-white braids whipped around as she spun to face her attacker. She slashed with her blade, feeling the soft flesh give way until it met bone. He cried out in pain, and she yanked out the knife. Before she had time to flee, the fourth man appeared and rushed toward her, knocking her to the ground. Her knife flew out of her hand, the metal clattering against the paving stones.
“I've got you, bitch,” he rasped in her ear. The stench of stale sweat and cooked onions choked her senses.
Sabine raised her knee between his legs. Sweaty onion man grunted in pain. In one swift movement, she withdrew another dagger and slashed diagonally across his throat. Blood splashed outward, and she ignored the gurgling noise as she scrambled to her feet.
Two down, but there were two more who needed to be eliminated.
“Kill her already!” a man shouted.
Aha. So not an abduction. They wanted her dead.
A blond man rushed toward her, and she kicked out at him. He stumbled backward as her heel hit the center of his chest. Sabine turned toward the one who had shouted. The scar on his chin was vaguely familiar, but she wasn’t sure where she’d seen him before. Grabbing her, he shoved her hard. Her back hit the wall, and she let out an oomph as her breath rushed from her lungs.
The flash of a blade caught her attention, and her eyes widened at the sight of the ancient iron dagger and the tattoo on the inside of the man’s wrist. Any doubt she had about the randomness of the attack fled. If she were going to survive the next few minutes, she needed to take drastic measures. Hiding in the shadows wouldn’t matter if she were dead. Her middling weapons skill was no match against this opponent.
Dropping to her knees, Sabine cut her palm and slapped her bleeding hand against the ground. Pulling the earth’s energy up through the paving stones, she held up her other hand and projected the power outward in a sharp blast. Her would-be assailant flew backward, hitting the opposite wall.
“It’s her,” the tattooed man shouted, pointing in her direction. “Kill her! Now!”
The blond man rushed forward in her direction. His weapon wasn’t iron, but it was no less deadly. She couldn’t risk performing more major magic and alerting everyone of her presence. Death always happened in threes, and she was one power-pull away from a calamity. She needed to make sure the next person who fell was one of her enemies.
Bracing herself, she remained crouched as the man ran toward her. A moment before impact, she leaned forward and pushed herself upright with the blade still in her hand. The angle was perfect to pass between his ribs and straight into his heart. Yanking the knife free, she shoved him aside and prepared to throw her weapon.
The last man, the one who’d held the deadly iron dagger and promised to be the most formidable, was on the ground with a puddle of blood pooling beneath him. A dark-haired stranger stood over the body. He yanked his sword free, and Sabine raised her hand, preparing to let her knife fly.
His eyes widened slightly, and he held up his hand in a peaceable gesture. “I swear to you: my word is as strong as the elements. I mean you no harm.”
Sabine froze at the irrefutable oath he’d made. The language of Faerie wasn’t uncommon within the city, although many of the residents had adopted a bastardized version or used a mixture along with the common tongue. But the ritualistic words he’d uttered were not common knowledge nor was the formality of his speech. The oath was enough to stay her hand, but she wasn’t foolish enough to lower her weapon.
The man standing before her radiated tightly controlled energy unlike anything she’d seen before. The color of his aura, a rich silvery-blue, reminded her of the night sky after the sun slipped past the horizon. His golden skin and dark hair indicated he wasn’t Fae or even a native to Akros, but he might be wearing glamour to hide his true nature. It was too dark to see his eyes, but she wondered if the secrets he harbored would reflect back at her.
Sabine straightened slowly, refusing to lower the knife in her hand. Beautiful or not, no one would know that oath unless they were intimately familiar with the Fae and their ancient customs. He appeared decidedly human, but his energy was something more. It was possible he had some Fae blood in him. It still didn’t explain why he was here, especially considering he’d appeared on the heels of an attack. He couldn’t lie if he were Fae, but his ability to wield truth and lies depended on how much human blood he possessed. Humans could be just as tricky as the Fae.
If necessary, she could kill him later—after she questioned him.
Sabine relaxed the hand holding her weapon, acknowledging curiosity had gotten the better of her. She wouldn’t kill this stranger yet, but whether she’d trust him was a decidedly different matter.
Footsteps pounded on the pavement. Sabine tensed, her hand tightening around the knife again. A short and stout creature approached, his purple eyes widening at the sight of her.
“Oh, hell’s balls. What have you done, Malek?” he croaked hoarsely, the greenish skin of his goblin heritage becoming a sickly hue that was almost the exact shade of regurgitated grass.
Another man, similar in appearance to the one called Malek halted beside him. He frowned at the bodies on the ground before meeting her eyes. He didn’t possess the same magnetism as Malek, but he was also a curiosity. If he were completely human, she’d swallow her knife whole, but he definitely wasn’t full-blooded Fae either. Sabine would bet her last weapon neither one of them were from Akros.
Sabine’s eyes narrowed on the familiar goblin. “Pozgil, are these friends of yours?”
Pozgil swallowed and hastily nodded, shifting nervously from foot to foot. His tongue flicked out again before he responded. “I-I was ordered to collect them from the docks. This is Captain Malek Rish'dan.” Pozgil gestured to the man who had spoken in the language of the Fae before gesturing to the other. “And this is his first mate, Levin Corynth. They’ve just arrived in Akros. I’m escorting them to the tavern to meet with Dax.” The goblin paused for a moment, hunched his shoulders, and hastily added, “Wi-With your permission, of course.”
Sabine blinked at him. The goblin trembled in terror. She was surprised he hadn’t fallen to the ground with the way his knees were knocking together. There wasn’t much she could do about dispelling his fears. In any other situation, she’d simply walk away and leave him to his errand. The attempt on her life had changed things. She couldn’t afford to back down, not now. But she could resolve this entire situation as expediently as possible.
Sabine tucked one of her braids behind her pointed ear, using the gesture to buy a few moments of time while she studied this Captain Malek Rish’dan. He didn’t appear like any ship captain she’d ever met. If he were new to Akros like the goblin claimed, it was unlikely he was involved in the recent attack on her. She wouldn’t write him off completely, but Dax’s goblin messenger would never dream of being involved in a plot against her. Dax was the leader of the local thieves’ guild, and he wasn’t exactly forgiving when it came to those who betrayed him.
She took a deep breath but couldn’t detect any lingering foreign magic in the area. The spell encourag
ing people to avoid these streets had broken during her power-pull on the earth. She couldn’t sense active magic from Malek or his companion either. But still… his connection to the Fae was troubling and curious at the same time.
If Malek had business with Dax, she'd cross paths with him again. Although, Dax’s involvement might prove to be inconvenient. Dax was unpredictable at times, and Sabine wasn't willing to risk him killing off the ship captain. It might be considered a weakness, but she wanted to know about his ties to the Fae.
A pained wail broke through her thoughts, and she glanced over at the man she'd struck with the poisoned weapon. It wasn't a death blow, which was nearly impossible with a throwing dagger, but the poison had done the job. He was paralyzed, and the poison was working through his system and burning him up from the inside. Considering the damage was irreversible, there was only one solution.
Walking over to the man on the ground, she gripped his hair and jerked his head upright. With the knife still in her hand, she slashed it across his throat, allowing his lifeblood to spill onto the cobblestones below.
Sabine released his hair and collected the dagger she’d used to dispense the poison, making a mental note to add more mandrake next time. Regardless of his attempt on her life, she couldn’t leave anyone to suffer. Leaning down, she wiped her blade on the man’s clothing before slipping it into the sheath on her thigh.
“What in the name of the underworld?” Levin muttered.
Pozgil shushed him and whispered, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your mouth shut.”
Sabine lifted her head to regard the goblin again. Her reputation wasn’t the best, but the fear emanating from Pozgil was a little excessive. Most goblins enjoyed it when a little blood was spilled; it was considered something of a sport among their kind. Pozgil’s eyes gleamed with a wild hunger, but his fear overshadowed everything else. If Dax’s little minion was so out of sorts that he wasn’t licking the blood from the cobblestones, the stories floating around about her were even worse than she’d assumed. Perhaps she’d kept herself more isolated over the past few months than she’d realized.
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