Institute of the Shadow Fae Box Set

by C. N. Crawford

  My hands were at the iron garrote around my neck. “What if we simply don’t fight each other?”

  He opened his hands. “You don’t have a choice, my little monster. Ruadan wants you dead. He can shadow-jump. You can’t. You may not last long, unfortunately, but the crowd wants blood, and they’ll have it.” He frowned at me. “I like the headlamp on you. I think I’ll leave it.”

  I could still feel the lumen crystal tucked in my cleavage, and a spark of hope lit in my chest. Inwardly, I smiled. Baleros had no idea that I had it on me.

  I fought hard to keep the fear etched across my features. If he didn’t know about my skills, he hadn’t planned for them. That gave me an advantage.

  “There is one way you can win.” He scratched his cheek. “If you unleash that dark power within you. You know, the one that terrifies you. The one you can’t control. I’ve seen you do things that no fae should be able to do.”

  My mind flashed with an image from my past, one I wanted to keep buried. Twelve dead fae lying at my feet, their bodies rotting before my eyes.

  I clenched my jaw tighter. “You’d better hope I don’t unleash that, Baleros. Because you’ll die along with the rest of them.”

  He stroked the back of his fingertips along my cheeks, and I shuddered at his touch. There was a time when I would have welcomed it—any affection from him.

  “My little monster, Arianna. A pretty, scarred little abomination.” A sly smile. Charming, almost. “Arianna. But that’s not your real name, is it?”

  His words slid through my bones. If he told anyone….

  I pushed the fear to the back of my mind. I had one more question for him. “How did you know I’d bring Ruadan here? How did you know I wouldn’t kill him?”

  A dark smile curled his lips. “Because you’re pathetic, Arianna. When you’re not busy murdering people, you’re desperate for love. And all it would take was one tiny gesture of kindness to destroy your ability to think rationally. One little butterscotch sweet.” He cocked his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “What was it, Arianna? Some food? One of the lollipops you like so much?” He grinned at this like it was the funniest fucking thing he’d ever heard.

  It was a blanket.

  A wild rage roiled in my blood, so intense I thought I might explode and bring the world down with me, and the possibility was more real than I wanted to admit. “Someday, I will kill you. Slowly. And while you’re dying, I will make you regret the day you pulled me off the streets of London. I am the Amazon Terror, and I will be your death.” My voice was so cold, so full of wrath, that just for instant, he flinched, and fear flickered across his face. It only took him a moment to compose himself.

  He wasn’t smiling anymore, and he stepped away from me. But the one little flash of fear had given me the insight I needed. Baleros had made himself into a god because he was afraid. He feared pain. And if he had enough power, he imagined he’d never have to feel anything that hurt.

  If you stare into the abyss long enough, the abyss stares back at you.

  He backed away from me, and he signaled to someone to open the garrote around my neck.

  Then, Baleros turned to face the crowd, lifting his arms above his head like a circus ringmaster. “You’ve all heard of the fearsome skill of the Amazon Terror. She may look like a beautiful lavender-haired fae with tremendous breasts—”

  He always mentioned the breasts in his preamble. The crowds loved breasts.

  “—but she has left the bodies of countless warriors at her feet. She now faces the first enemy she may be unable to defeat. A spell-slayer. The Wraith. He moves in the shadows, slaughters silently. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the fight you’ve all been waiting for!”

  Someone handed me a bottle of water, and I chugged it down fast. My throat felt like a desert, and apparently Baleros wanted this battle to last a little longer than four seconds.

  I stared across the sandy arena at Ruadan while the familiar proceedings began—the ancient customs marking the start of combat. The licti—servants—carried a bundle of sticks with an ax. That was the fascia—it was supposed to represent Baleros’s power. My guess was it was there to compensate for a super disappointing manhood.

  Then, the frankly irritating trumpeters blared away. Last, a servant held aloft a bust of Baleros that everyone was supposed to cheer for.

  The entire time, my gaze was locked on Ruadan. Inky shadows slid through his eyes, and darkness breathed around him. He stood firmly in place with that eerie, animal stillness, bar a lock of pale blond hair that floated on a breeze. A predator about to attack. The sight of him sent ice racing through my veins. The ancient part of my brain was already screaming at me to run. I’d fought many enemies, but none as terrifying as him.

  Unlike Baleros, Ruadan probably realized I’d stolen the lumen crystal, which meant he wouldn’t mess around. He could shadow-jump faster and more skillfully than I could.

  I gripped my sword tighter, my mind whirling. We could stall, trying to find a way to get out of this together. If we teamed up, maybe we could both live.

  Or, we could assume the other person was a monster and go for the kill right away. After all, he was the Wraith. And I’d just stabbed him in the chest. Ruthless monsters, both of us.

  Sweat dampened my palms as my mind frantically spun in a million directions. To trust him or not to trust him….

  One of the licti commanded us to raise our weapons and salute our master. I turned to Baleros—seated on the stony emperor’s throne in the center of the audience. I raised my sword without thinking—an old habit.

  As I lowered it again, I knew that, one way or another, it would be the last time I saluted my old master.

  My heart pounded rhythmically in my chest, beating in time to the war drum that signaled the start of the fight. And with a final trumpet’s blare, it was time for the carnage to begin.

  Chapter 30

  Time seemed to slow down, and I stared at Ruadan, at his terrifying stillness.

  Tonight, I fight a demigod.

  Neither of us moved. I wasn’t sure I was even breathing. Ruadan just stared back at me, his eyes black as the void. Dread clamped bony fingers around my heart.

  I calculated where he would land if he shadow-jumped, realizing that the glaring lights cast my silhouette in front of me, not behind. If I could try to stay facing this direction, it would help me know what was coming.

  Conversely, Ruadan’s shadow was behind him. Maybe I could jump behind him and end this now….

  Battle fury was already trembling through my limbs, making my legs shake. Complete silence shrouded the arena.

  And yet, I just kept standing there. Waiting. My blood roared in my ears, and tension rippled off the crowd as they grew restless.

  Then, in a blur of black, Ruadan jumped—whirling through the air, just enough time for panic to steal my breath. He landed just in front of me. But instead of simply running his sword through me, he swung for me, aiming for the shoulder. Just like he always did.

  I parried, our swords clashing, sparking in the air. We circled, swords slamming ferociously. I knew his rhythms, knew where he’d strike. And he knew mine. When I swung for him, he ducked, just like I knew he would. My sword whooshed over his head.

  The audience bayed for blood.

  From the ground, he swung for my legs, and I leapt into the air. Then, with a vicious strike, I snarled and slammed my sword into his blade so brutally that I knocked it from his hands. He jumped, landing in front of me, and clamped his hand hard around my throat, lifting me into the air. I dropped my sword, but I brought my knee up hard into his chin, his jaw cracking.

  The crowd roared their approval.

  He dropped me, and I slammed my fist into his stomach with all my might.

  Good. With the swords out of the way. I might even get the chance to say something to him. Something like, Baleros wants to kill you, so let’s get out of this together. Sorry again for the stabbing.

  Ruadan was
only down for a moment, and then his hands clamped down hard on my waist. He lifted me into the air, and the crowd screamed for death. Then, he threw me across the sandy pit, and I landed hard on my back. As I started to push myself up, his foot smashed into my ribs.

  Well, he was giving them a good show, but I wasn’t dead. That meant he was holding back.

  Unless … unless he really just wanted to kick my arse all over the arena before he killed me.

  I blocked out the pain wracking my body. From the ground, I lifted my hips, hitting him hard with a brutal side kick into his knee. Another kick, my heel slamming into the same knee. He faltered. When I jumped to my feet again, I stepped in close, planting one foot behind him. I swept his legs, and he slammed down onto his back.

  I leapt onto him, straddling him, and I hammered him with punches—until he caught my fist. He snarled, canines bared, then started to crush my hand. With his iron grip, he twisted my arm until I shifted off him, landing face down in the dirt.

  In the next moment, he was on top of me, a powerful arm hooked around my throat. He was going to choke me out.

  He leaned in close.

  Then, he whispered in my ear.

  “I’m not going to kill you.”

  It was the first time I’d heard his voice, the rich, velvety timbre, and it sent my pulse racing.

  I reached behind my head, grabbing at his arms, pretending like I was struggling. “I’m not going to kill you, either,” I whispered. “But Baleros is. He wants the World Key.”

  I elbowed him hard in the face. Maybe we weren’t going to kill each other, but we didn’t want Baleros to catch on. I started to get up, and he pinned me down from the front this time, still straddling me.

  Then, I thrust my pelvis up hard with all my force, knocking him off me. I scrambled up. Before I could even fully right myself, Ruadan hurtled into me. He knocked me hard to the ground, just managing to cushion the blow of my head against the floor with his hand. Quite the gentleman.

  The crowd screamed, demanding a sacrifice.

  Grandson of the Night God.

  He was between my legs, and I stared up at his pure black eyes.

  He controlled the shadows.

  “Make it dark,” I whispered. “I will find Baleros.”

  Without another word, frosted night magic burst from him, ripples of shadows that snuffed out the candles around us. I flicked off my headlamp as the shadows slid over the flaming arrows, dimming their flames until darkness reigned.

  Screams erupted all over the arena.

  Anarchy is the opportunity to remake the world the way we want it.

  Baleros knew how to rule in chaos. And now, so did I. I knew this arena like the back of my hand.

  In the darkness, I shadow-leapt to the emperor’s seat before Baleros had a chance to escape. I sniffed the air. Roses. The scent that always made me sick.

  I’d found him, and he had no idea I was here.

  I gripped him by the collar, then reared back my arm, punching him over and over in the face with all my strength, so hard I was sure I was breaking my own fist. He caught one of my punches, but fury whipped through me, and I brought my knee up hard into his groin.

  He’d never seen me coming. He’d had no idea Ruadan would give me the lumen crystal, or that we’d refuse to kill each other. Baleros had never prepared for this.

  The man had spent years drilling all of his thoughts into my mind. He’d studied me, learning how I worked, anticipating everything I’d done. Knowing my weaknesses. I was his monster, and he controlled me.

  But it was like he always said—if you stare too long into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you. He knew how I thought, and I knew how he thought, too.

  I rammed my elbow into his face, and he moaned. “Ruadan….”

  “I’m not Ruadan,” I roared. “I’m the abyss, bitch!”

  I’m not sure that made sense, and maybe I needed a better catchphrase. But it felt right in the moment.

  “Where’s Ciara?” I screamed.

  He tried to hit me, but I was blocking his blows. Then, I jabbed my fingers swiftly into his Adam’s apple. He emitted a choking sound, unable to breathe, and I shadow-jumped behind him. I gripped his head—Ruadan-style—ready to snap his neck.

  “Where’s Ciara?” I shouted. “Do not make me rip out your spine, because I will, fucker.”

  Screams tore through the air around us, but Ruadan was keeping a tight control of the shadows. Darkness claimed the arena.

  As soon as Baleros could speak again, he groaned, “Secret location.”

  “Where?” I roared.

  “I brought her here tonight. Your cage,” he choked out.

  I snapped his neck, and he went down. Without iron in my hands, I couldn’t kill him now. I had to leave for Ciara while I still could, but I hoped to hell that Ruadan would drive an iron sword through his heart.

  I leapt through the darkness, the arena air rushing over my skin. Just before I rushed into the exit, I whirled to look behind me. A burst of light flashed in the arena as Ruadan’s darkness receded for just a moment. It was just enough time to watch as Ruadan cut his sword through Baleros’s neck. My heart leapt.

  As Baleros’s body fell, it erupted into flames, and the scent of charred flesh filled the air. Dead. My breath caught in my lungs.

  I had no idea why his body had ignited. I only knew it was all over, although I almost couldn’t believe it.

  I spun, leaping through the tunnel again. Baleros might be dead, but he had dozens of lackeys working for him here.

  Baleros’s thirty-fourth law of power: never let down your guard.

  My heart slammed against my ribs. Maybe his body was dead, but he’d be living on in my mind for a while.

  I leapt through the darkness, knowing exactly where to find Ciara. I knew these tunnels intimately, and with the lumen crystal, it only took me a few seconds to get there. He’d brought her here tonight. What if I’d gone straight for the cages instead of into the arena? He wasn’t worried, because he was convinced I’d act exactly as he’d predicted.

  At last, I reached the damp cavern where I’d once lived. A flood of memories washed over me, the dank scent and dripping water making bile rise in my throat. I’d given six years of my life to this hole.

  Dead. It was hard to wrap my mind around it. Baleros’s presence was still a living thing in my mind.

  At this point, I remembered I was still wearing my headlamp, and I flicked it on.

  There, curled up in the bottom of the cage, was Ciara.

  She sat up, squinting in the bright light, her face covered in dirt.

  “Ciara! It’s me.”

  “Arianna?” Dehydration had paled her lips and cheeks.

  I pulled my homemade lock pick out of my pocket and jammed it into the lock. “I’m getting you out of here. Now.” After a few seconds of fiddling, the lock clicked. With a racing pulse, I ripped off the padlock. “Baleros is dead.”

  “You killed him,” she shrieked with joy, beaming.

  “No. The Wraith did.”

  “I don’t care who killed him, as long as he’s dead.” She blinked at the headlamp. “How the heck did you manage to find me?”

  “The Wraith and I did the one thing Baleros never would have anticipated. Something he’d never begin to understand.”

  “What?”

  “We trusted each other.” I grabbed her hand. “Come on. We need to get out of here.”

  Baleros had never anticipated that Ruadan would trust me enough to give me the crystal. He’d never imagined we’d work together to survive, because that wasn’t how Baleros thought.

  I pulled Ciara along as we ran through the dark tunnel, our feet pounding hard over the dirt. Mentally, I calculated our next move.

  Ruadan and I had worked together, but that didn’t mean the Institute would forgive me for what I’d done. Did they know? Had someone found Ruadan and pulled the knife from his chest? I wasn’t sticking around London long enough to fin
d out. I had a pretty strong feeling I was on Grand Master Savus’s shit list. Also known as his kill list.

  I didn’t think I’d exactly be welcome at the Institute at this point.

  Ciara’s breath heaved. “Where are we going?”

  “We’re getting out of London, Ciara. We’re going into hiding.”

  At last, we reached the part of the tunnel where only a steel manhole cover blocked our exit. I hoisted Ciara up until she could push it to the side, and we hauled ourselves out into the London night.

  Within minutes, we were disappearing into the night’s shadows.

  Chapter 31

  I sat across from Ciara, in a dark corner of a pub in Edinburgh. The bar was indistinct, just like I wanted it to be. Ordinary wooden tables, an old carpet with wine stains, plain yellow walls. We’d spent twenty of our last pounds on haggis and neeps, which had been a mistake, because it was disgusting. Of course Ciara loved it.

  In the past few days since we’d run from London, I’d made myself look as nondescript as possible. I wore a hood or wig to cover my lavender hair. I wore jeans and sneakers. I didn’t make eye contact with anyone. No one had noticed us.

  Problem was, we were running out of Ciara’s money, fast.

  Ciara leaned back in her chair, sipping her beer. “We have twenty-six pounds and thirteen pence left.”

  I swallowed hard. I still had the lumen crystal. It wouldn’t be particularly difficult to steal from people. “I’ll find us what we need.”

  She leaned in closer to me, whispering, “You said Baleros’s headless body just caught on fire? He was a devil. I knew it.”

  “No doubt about that. I hope it hurt.”

  She shoved a forkful of haggis into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully, her gaze intent on her food. “Why did you run from Ruadan? I thought you said you worked together to kill Baleros.”

  I swirled the wine in my glass. “We did work together in that moment, to get out of that situation. To save both our lives. But I don’t know what it means. Grand Master Savus calls the shots in the Institute, and I don’t know what he thinks. I could be on a kill list. I stole from them. And I stabbed one of them. And the Shadow Fae really don’t have a sense of humor about those kind of things.”