Possessed (Hades Castle Trilogy Book 3)

by C. N. Crawford

  The green-eyed one from the bar stepped closer, his gaze flicking up and down my body, as if he were assessing my worth. I felt goosebumps rise on my skin.

  But it was the other one who stopped my heart. Menacing shadows curled off him, like smoke from a funeral pyre. He was taller than the other, his shoulders broad and no doubt thickly muscled under his cloak. He gripped a dagger, red with blood that dripped onto the pavement. Drops of blood glistened on his cloak. Darkness breathed around him like a living thing, and I held my breath.

  It was hard to look at him—the more I focused my eyes, the less distinct he seemed. The most salient thing about him was his piercing, violet eyes, which raised the hair on the back of my neck.

  I took a step back. His magic was powerful—and unusual for a fae.

  As they stared at me, I was mentally calculating the chances of taking them both on. It wasn’t good, and worse, even if I managed to survive, it would mean the end of my life as I knew it. A fugitive permanently on the run from the spell-slayers.

  “Hello, gents.” I aimed for a casual tone, but it came out sounding strained.

  “Hello, Arianna,” said the one with green eyes.

  My heart skipped a beat. He knew my name.

  I licked my lips. “And to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

  “Aengus, Knight of the Shadow Fae.”

  The other one—the Wraith—said nothing.

  Don’t attack unless you’re certain you can win.

  The Wraith shifted, and I lost sight of him until he reappeared on the opposite side of Aengus. For a moment, the wind picked up his cowl, and I caught a better view of his eyes. His gaze held no emotion, just a cold detachment. And yet somehow, his glare slid through my bones. I felt like a pinned butterfly under his stare, completely helpless.

  He shifted again, appearing on the other side of Aengus once more, before going completely still. Eerily still.

  Whoever he was, he moved with a lethal, otherworldly grace. A shiver danced up my spine. He’d come out tonight for one reason and one reason only: to kill.

  The Wraith’s unnerving stillness ignited the most ancient parts of my brain with primal fear. Even if I couldn’t see his face, his lethality was apparent. For the first time in years, real terror clenched my chest. I gripped my iron knife tighter.

  I didn’t see him coming, didn’t catch the tensing of muscles that normally signaled an oncoming attack. Just the whoosh of wind, a blur of black, and the Wraith slammed my wrist against the brick wall behind me. The force felt like he’d cracked my bones, and I dropped the knife. He kicked it away, and it spun off down the alleyway.

  So. This was going well so far.

  The Wraith flickered away from me again, now behind Aengus.

  Bollocks. The other knives were packed deep within my bug-out bag, and now all I had access to were the hawthorn stakes in my hair. Hawthorn wouldn’t kill them, but jammed in the right places, it would certainly slow them down. In the future, I’d be strapping iron knives all over myself.

  Assuming I got out of here alive.

  Aengus stared at me. “Arianna,” he said. “You’re a demi-fae. You’re supposed to be in a fae realm, but you’re not. You should have submitted to our laws long ago. Do you know what we do to outlaws like you?”

  My blood ran cold. “What makes you say that I’m fae?” I asked.

  “We can smell our kind.” Aengus’s brow furrowed. “If you can be considered our kind at all. Your fae scent isn’t noble, even if it is alluring.”

  My entire body had gone rigid with tension, and I reviewed all my combat lessons in hyper-speed. “Two on one isn’t really a fair fight, is it?”

  A half-smile curled Aengus’s beautiful lips. “Who said anything about fairness?”

  That was all the warning I got before he lunged for me. In the next moment, his hand was around my neck, but I slammed my forearm into his, knocking his hand off my throat.

  Baleros’s fourth law of power: Always anticipate your enemy’s actions.

  My gaze darted to the Wraith, and I realized I had absolutely no idea how to predict his actions, because what the hell?

  But Aengus was clearer. By the tensing of his muscles, I knew he was about to strike again.

  He swung for me. Despite his speed, I managed to catch his fist in my palm. I twisted his arm, then gripped him by the back of his hair, driving his face down hard into my knee. Crack.

  Crush your enemies completely.

  I yanked out a stake, ready to plunge it into his back, but he was up again within moments.

  Unusually strong, even for a fae.

  His fist slammed me hard in the jaw, dizzying me. It had been a long time since I’d taken a hard hit, and I was out of practice.

  Still, I recovered fast enough. Before he got the chance to hit me again, I thrust my stake hard into his neck. Blood spurted. It wasn’t iron, so it wouldn’t kill him, but he wouldn’t be getting up any time soon.

  I pulled the second stake from my hair, ready to take on the Wraith.

  Except—he wasn’t there anymore. I didn’t even see him moving for me, I just felt the force of his body twisting my arm, spinning me in the other direction. He slammed me into the wall of the alley. The cold stone bit into my cheek. He had me completely pinned, his powerful body pressing against mine. Before, I’d sensed something like indifference from him. Now, given the ferocity of his grip, it was a little more like cold-blooded wrath. Firm muscles pressed against me, completely rooting me in place.

  I wasn’t used to anyone being able to dominate me, and hot fury—mixed with fear—gripped me. Maybe the Wraith really was the Devil himself.

  This was it. Baleros had no rule to describe this situation, because I was never supposed to let myself get pinned like this in the first place. My mind raced wildly as I waited for the pain that would usher me into the afterlife.

  But instead of an iron blade severing my jugular, I felt the searing pain of magic at the nape of my neck.

  Then, the force of his body disappeared.

  When I whirled around again, both fae were gone. I stared only at the shadowy, cobbled street. I put my hand to my heart, catching my breath. And as I did, I realized I was clutching a piece of paper. I wasn’t even clear how I’d gotten the paper, but as I unfolded it—with shaking hands—I found a note inscribed in unexpectedly feminine looping letters.

  We will return for you. You will join the Shadow Fae, or you will die on the execution block.

  What in the name of seven hells?

  Exhaustion burned through me. They’d left me alive, and I’d survived the fight—but I had no idea why. Fear scratched at the back of my mind. Somehow, the mystery of whatever they had planned for me was more unnerving than the idea of death itself.

  I crossed out of the alleyway, shaking all over.

  The sight of the Institute’s blazing spires sent a shiver of admiration up my spine. I hated my reaction to the place. It was a symbol of oppression, of domination and conquest, and I couldn’t help but be awed by the vibrant display of magic.

  And now—for reasons I couldn’t fathom—they wanted me to join them behind its walls.

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  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to my supportive family, and to Michael Omer for his fantastic feedback. Thanks to Nick and Linsey for bouncing ideas off of.

  Jen Rasmussen is my fabulous and extremely hard working editor. Thanks to my advanced reader team for their help, and to C.N. Crawford’s Coven on Facebook!

 

 

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