To Kill a Fae

by Jamie A. Waters

  With a sigh, Sabine gestured to the man she’d executed. “I used an experimental poison. It still needs some adjustment.”

  She paused, considering her words. They probably weren’t the most reassuring. She didn’t enjoy killing, but it was sometimes necessary. With a frown, she studied the body and wished she’d had time to craft and dispense an antidote. Now it would be even more difficult to find out who had hired him.

  Bending down, she went through his clothing with the hope of finding some clue to his identity or employer. Other than a small pouch of coins at his waist, there was nothing else. She scooped up the pouch and whistled sharply. Tentative footsteps sounded a second later, emerging out of the darkness. Sabine tossed the pouch in the air and caught it, gauging the weight of the coins within. Good. It would be enough.

  Walking over to the young boy who stood at the foot of the alley, Sabine dangled the bag in front of him. “For your warning.”

  His eyes widened as a lock of dark, sooty hair fell over his forehead. He was underweight and filthy, like many of the street urchins. He gripped the bag tightly but didn’t turn away. Sabine had noticed him shortly after she’d left her informant, but this young boy had dared quite a bit by trailing behind her attackers. Only someone with strong spirit and intent could have broken past the witch’s avoidance spell. He’d taken the extra measure to use an owl’s warning call to alert her about the threat. He had potential, and she owed him a debt—Sabine always paid her debts.

  Keeping her voice and expression neutral, Sabine nodded toward the pouch. “That’s enough coin to feed you for a week.”

  The boy stared at the bag, but he made no move to leave. She arched her brow at him and waited. In her experience, people had to want something badly enough to do what was necessary to make it happen. If this boy couldn’t bring himself to ask the question, he wasn’t ready.

  After a long moment, the boy lifted his head and held out the bag. “I’d like to trade for a wooden coin.”

  Sabine tilted her head and idly tapped the hilt of her knife with her fingers. The boy’s eyes widened, and he swallowed. His nervousness was obvious, but she was more curious about whether he was willing to fight through his fears to accomplish his goals.

  Unwilling to make it easy on him, she frowned at him. “That’s a lot of coin to exchange for a piece of wood. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  His hand clutching the bag trembled, but he nodded. The determination in his eyes was enough to erase any lingering doubt.

  “Very well,” she agreed and took away the purse. Opening it, she slipped out a coin and infused a bit of magic into it. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Malek’s sudden interest as he took a step toward her, presumably to get a better look.

  Hmm. As she had suspected, the captain was sensitive to magic. That must have been what caused him to come down the street in the first place.

  His magical sensitivity might be a problem, but it also made her question his origins. Anyone who was wholly human wouldn’t have felt the magic she’d pulled from the ground, especially while they were hidden behind the witch’s avoidance spell. Forcing herself to ignore the intriguing stranger, she focused again on the boy in front of her. “What do they call you?”

  “Johnny,” he said, straightening his thin body. He couldn’t be older than nine or ten, but he had the world-weary gaze of someone who had been on the streets for most of their life.

  “Do you know who I am, Johnny?”

  A trace of fear came back into his eyes, but he nodded. Sabine kept her expression neutral, not allowing him to see the sadness that filled her. He may know the name she went by here and the persona she’d carefully crafted, but only a select few knew her true identity. Just like the shadows hid her from view most of the time, so did the surrounding rumors.

  Holding out the wooden coin she’d transmuted, she placed it in Johnny’s hand and traced her fingernail over its surface. “Choices surround you and dictate possible paths to your future. A baker at the south end of town needs an assistant. He grows older and has no children, but he would gladly pass along his knowledge to one who is eager to learn and serve.”

  The boy stared in wonder at the loaf of bread now etched into the coin. It was little more than a parlor trick. Anyone with an ounce of magical ability could perform such a thing.

  “But there is always another choice.” Sabine paused and flipped the coin over before tracing her finger over it again. “If someone is smart, quick, and lucky, they may survive what the future holds. It would be a life of danger, but one with great rewards and greater risk. How much of each depends solely on you. There are no guarantees in either choice, just a chance to unlock a different path than the one you currently walk.”

  Johnny’s eyes lit up, and he opened his mouth to make his choice. She gave him a curt shake of her head, and he froze, clamping his mouth shut. Sabine withdrew her hand, leaving the impression of a knife on the wooden coin in his hand. “No, Johnny. You will think upon your choice for at least one full night. After that, you can make your decision. As long as the coin remains in your possession, the choice is yours and yours alone.”

  He lifted his head again and closed his fist over the coin, gripping it tightly. “I won’t let anyone take it from me.”

  She inclined her head in acknowledgment of his words. Based on his demeanor, that small piece of wood had just become the most important thing in his life. “You have a fortnight to make your choice. If you wish to become an apprentice, you will take the coin to Bjorn, the proprietor of Batter’s Edge. In exchange, he will provide you with a bed, food, and a chance for something more—but only if you’re willing to prove yourself. Do you know where his shop is located?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded. “If you wish to have a chance to learn the craft of those who live in the darkness and dance on the edge of a blade, you will take your coin to Copper’s Crossing and find Edvar. Do you know him?”

  Johnny nodded eagerly. Sabine resisted the urge to snort. Everyone seemed to know Edvar, a former street rat who had his hands in all sorts of pies. Edvar was going to have to start staying in the shadows. He was incredibly talented but a little reckless at times.

  “Very well. If you do nothing or wait longer than a fortnight, the coin will disappear. That, too, is also a choice.”

  “Thank—”

  She held up her hand. “There is no debt between us. Take your choice and go.”

  Johnny grinned and gripped the wooden coin before sprinting down the alley. Sabine turned and caught a trace of a smile on Malek’s lips. The curiosity in his gaze made her wonder if she’d made a mistake. She hadn’t wanted Johnny to disappear without paying her debt to him, but she wished no one else had been around to witness such a thing.

  Ignoring Malek, she walked over to the body of the man who had carried the ancient iron weapon. The goblin was already busy investigating one of the other bodies and she couldn’t allow him close to this one yet. She bent down to search the dead man, discreetly tracing her fingertips over his wrist tattoo to hide it with her glamour. It wouldn’t last, but it would stay hidden until the city guards disposed of the body.

  Malek crouched down beside her, his gaze straying to the man’s wrist. She had the distinct impression he knew what she’d done.

  He reached down and picked up the iron knife that had fallen to the ground. She tensed, her hand lingering near one of her weapons. Malek held her eyes as he unbuckled the dead man’s knife sheath before sliding the iron blade into the protective leather sleeve and offering it to her. “I believe this is yours.”

  Sabine frowned and looked into his clear blue eyes. It was as though the sky itself had been captured in his irises. Unable to look away, Sabine reached out and took the weapon, attaching it to her belt by feel alone. She didn’t like the idea of having the weapon so close to her, but she didn’t have many options. It would be a while before she could discreetly dispose of it, but it was safer with her t
han in someone else’s hands.

  She stood and assessed Malek, once again feeling a pull toward him. He was a mystery she’d need to solve sooner rather than later, but the matter of the dead men took precedence—as well as the injury at her side and her hand. Unwilling to risk sending Malek off to Dax without some form of protection, she took a step toward him.

  “It would seem I also owe you a debt,” she said, not specifying whether she meant his efforts at killing one of her attackers or his silence about the dead man’s tattoo. Either way, all debts needed to be paid. The unbalance hung heavily in the air between them, demanding satisfaction.

  He searched her expression for a long time. Finally, he inclined his head. “A debt is due.”

  Sabine froze for a split second, surprised by the language he’d used. It was the formal exchange of an obligation, even if his words had been spoken in the common tongue. Although many people formalized a debt, few outside Faerie used the traditional wording. Tilting her head, she studied him but didn’t see any trace of the Fae in his features or a hint of glamour. There was something about him though—something dangerous and deadly.

  Taking a step toward him, she allowed a small smile to curve her lips. “What do you wish of me, Captain Malek Rish’dan?”

  Malek swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his heated gaze perused her up and down. If he asked for more than he was entitled to receive, the debt between them would be canceled. She didn’t understand why the magic worked that way, but it was one loophole she’d cheerfully exploited a time or two. She waited, curious if he would rise to her challenge or if the debt hanging between them would shatter.

  A small shiver went through Sabine at the intensity in Malek’s eyes. She had the impression he saw much more than she intended. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she’d misread him.

  “Dinner.”

  She blinked at him, unsure if she’d heard him correctly. “What?”

  His mouth curved upward. “I have no doubt you could have easily dispatched the last man.” His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. “As Pozgil mentioned, I’m new to the city. I could easily learn my way around without your assistance, but a shared meal with exceptional company would be preferable.”

  She stared at him, stunned and a little bewildered. Not only had he neatly avoided the trap she’d left open for him, but he’d also made a request impossible to refuse. He may not be Fae, but he knew enough about their ways for her to be thoroughly intrigued. It had been a long time since a stranger surprised her. She closed the distance between them, unable to deny the magnetism she felt for this captivating man. For whatever reason, her power was drawn to him. It left her oddly unsettled.

  “The repayment of the debt has been negotiated. Until it is fulfilled, I leave you with a marker of my promise so that you might call upon me.” She held out her hand, both uneasy and curious about what would happen when she touched him.

  He placed his much larger hand over hers, and she swallowed. It was just a touch, but she could detect a trace of the muted power within him. She turned his hand over in hers so it was facing palm upward. His fingers were calloused, indicating he was no stranger to hard labor and weapons training. She focused on the rest of his hand, tracing her fingertips over his bare wrist in a pattern. She spoke the words in barely more than a whisper and infused them with a trace of her magic.

  He inhaled sharply, and Sabine felt a moment of connection as the debt between them was weighed. With a snap of electricity in the air, her mark settled on his skin. Since the debt was hers to repay, she also accepted the searing pain as though she’d applied it to her own skin. Burying her reaction, she traced the design again. “The agreement is accepted, witnessed, and sealed.”

  She lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. He appeared equally as affected by her touch. Slightly disconcerted, she added, “Once the debt has been repaid, the mark will fade. If I expire before the debt is collected, the mark will fade. If you pass on before it is collected, the mark will fade.”

  Malek placed his other hand over hers, trapping her hand between the warmth of his skin. It took everything she had to continue to breathe normally. Something about this man called to her on an elemental level—and for that reason alone, he was dangerous. He squeezed her hand gently. “I look forward to sharing dinner with you soon.”

  Sabine pulled her hand away, uneasy about what might happen if she continued touching him. She glanced over at the goblin who stared at her open-mouthed. “You are taking them to meet with Dax now?”

  Pozgil clamped his mouth shut and straightened. “I’d be honored to escort you too. I’m sure Dax will have questions about this… attack.”

  She narrowed her eyes. That was putting it mildly. Dax would lose his mind when he found out what had happened on the border of his territory. Until she got answers of her own, she wasn’t willing to risk another encounter with the unscrupulous leader of Akros’s underworld. “I trust you can relay the events to the best of your knowledge. I have other matters that require my attention.”

  When Pozgil’s skin flushed to that sickly green color again, Sabine relented slightly. Aside from accompanying him and handling Dax herself, there wasn’t much she could do except make it clear to Dax that she had refused to go. There would likely be consequences for her decision, but they couldn’t be helped—especially since she was bleeding.

  She sighed. “Give my regards to Dax. I will see him soon enough.”

  Pozgil looked pained but nodded. “I’ll give him your message.”

  She darted another quick glance at Malek and pulled her hood over her head. If he managed to survive his encounter with Dax, she’d have a chance to discover more about him. In any event, she’d done what she could to protect him until then.

  Heading away from the alley, Sabine gathered some of the lingering shadows around her. One thing she’d learned years ago was, if she couldn’t see the monsters in the dark, they usually couldn’t see her either. But the assassination attempt had made it clear the shadows weren’t going to be enough for much longer.

  Chapter Two

  Unable to tear his gaze away, Malek watched the mysterious woman disappear into the darkness. The mark on his wrist still tingled, and he resisted the urge to rub it. Her touch had affected him more than he’d expected. Now he had an almost insatiable desire to discover the effects of having her hands on other parts of his body. The thought was more than a little distracting, and he shook his head to clear it.

  Even without that brief taste of her power, her features had been a testament to her mixed Fae heritage. She’d even worn her hair in a braided style more suited to the Fae, but it was her nearly lavender eyes that had intrigued him. They were more blue than anything, but he’d caught a glimpse of the pale purple color—the mark of the Fae.

  “Pointed ears,” Levin murmured, staring down at the bodies. “Four bodies, and two of them have pointed ears. Think they’re part-Fae?”

  Malek made a noise of agreement. The tips of the woman’s ears had been pointed too, arching upward in a graceful slope. The trait wasn’t as common in the northern cities where they were from. He’d heard some people living in Akros were of Fae descent, but he hadn’t realized the strength of those ties until now.

  “At least we know we’re in the right place,” Malek whispered.

  The goblin’s forked tongue flicked out as he gleefully pocketed another pouch of coins from one of the dead men.

  Levin snorted. “I don’t know about that. The Fae are supposed to be the keepers of the forests and lakes. I can’t imagine someone with a lot of Fae magic living in a city like this.”

  “Ah, Levin, have a little faith,” Malek said with a grin and clapped his friend on the shoulder.

  The goblin cocked his head. “You have an interest in the Fae?”

  Malek studied Pozgil in surprise. Goblins were one of the lesser Fae, but they had very little magic. It was unlikely he could help them, except to provide some information. “Of cours
e. Tales of their beauty and magic are legendary. Anyone would be intrigued. Are there many Fae living in the city?”

  Pozgil grinned, his tongue darting out between his lips. “We have quite a few with Fae blood, but no full-blooded Fae. Those taste of high magic and sex.”

  “I doubt they’d allow you close enough to take a bite,” Levin said dryly. “I’ve heard the Fae are a bit more discerning in their tastes.”

  Pozgil shrugged. “The Unseelie Fae are more open-minded than the Seelie. How do you think some of these dead men ended up with pointed ears? When the Unseelie emerged from Underhill after the Dragon War, some took humans as lovers to replenish their numbers.”

  Levin frowned. “Underhill? You’re referring to the Underworld?”

  Malek leaned over to study one of the men’s ears. Other than a slight point, he didn’t see any other sign the man had been Fae. “It’s one and the same. The Fae refer to it as Underhill, but the demons and dwarves call it the Underworld. The Unseelie Fae escaped their service to the gods and fled there.”

  Levin rubbed his chin in thought. “I’d wondered about the difference between the Seelie and Unseelie. You’re saying the Seelie remained as servants to the gods and caretakers of the forests?”

  “Yes,” Malek said.

  Pozgil scooted over to inspect the last dead man. He was having a little too much fun playing with the bodies. They’d need to pull him away soon, if he didn’t knock it off. They were already running late for their appointment.