Institute of the Shadow Fae Box Set

by C. N. Crawford

  Darrell’s antlers clacked against the doorframe. “So anyway, the idea is that the primal drumbeats will attract females, who will mate with us like beasts.”

  I nodded. “Right. Seems reasonable. Maybe I could just…be in the vicinity for when that happens.”

  He nodded enthusiastically, antlers wobbling. “Yeah. I like it. We will celebrate like the ancient primordial power of the earth. We’ll populate her flesh with our seed. Right.” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s take the District Line. It’ll bring us right there.”

  We rode the old, creaking Tube train across town. Ruadan sat at the far end of the car, cloaked in shadows, occasionally provoking screams from anyone who entered near him.

  Uncle Darrell and I sat in the center of the car, and he pulled out his bongo drum to serenade me for the journey. Get me in the mood. I closed my eyes, trying to mentally summon a happier place, which—given the grim circumstances—included the Palatial Room.

  As he drummed on the bongos, singing along, one of his helmet antlers caught on a silver pole. “Fucking hell. The way they make these bloody trains. Honestly.” He shook his head at me, as if I were about to commiserate with him about the lack of consideration for helmet-antlers in the Tube’s design.

  At last, the train pulled up to Richmond Park station, the brakes screeching as it ground to a halt. Darrell snatched up his drum, with one hand on his helmet. The doors slid open, and Uncle Darrell carefully ducked to avoid catching his antlers on the ceiling on the way out. Ruadan slipped out another door, keeping his distance from us. I wasn’t sure if that was mentor protocol, or just the sheer embarrassment of walking around in public with Uncle Darrell.

  Darrell reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle. He unscrewed the top, then handed it to me. “Try it.”

  I took a sip, then immediately spit the rancid liquid onto the pavement. “Fucking hells. What is that?”

  “Fermented goat milk. I make it myself.”

  I gagged, not entirely sure he even knew what “fermented” meant.

  Through an open gate, we crossed into a dark, grassy park. I glanced behind me, catching a glimpse of Ruadan’s bright violet eyes. He was still hanging back—just watching. Making sure I didn’t escape.

  “I’m afraid this is where I’ve got to leave you,” said Darrell. “The men are gathering. Can you hear the drums? Can you feel the beat of primal life in your blood? We’ll mate soon.”

  “So should just I wait a bit then?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, just give it a few minutes. Let the drums lure you.”

  One of his antlers started to sag, and he held it up with his hand as he turned and walked off in the darkness.

  I closed my eyes, tuning into the distant sound of the drums. After giving him a few moments, I began following Darrell at a distance, while scanning the park for signs of Maddan. I sniffed the air. I couldn’t smell the prince, but I smelled something new—the scent of iron. The metal of the angels.

  I slid the silver ring onto my finger, and my back arched at the rush of magic through my body.

  Time to watch some angels fall from grace.

  Chapter 55

  I walked barefoot over forest soil on my way through Richmond Park. Moonlight beamed over tall grasses. A distant drumbeat boomed in my gut, stirring my blood—but not for lust, as Darrell had hoped. No, I was in a fighting mood.

  The drumbeat grew louder as I approached a clearing. Someone had tied ribbons from the trees surrounding the glade. Through the trunks, I caught a glimpse of a bonfire. I’d come to the right place.

  I glanced down at the violet magic twisting between my fingertips.

  Sheltered behind an oak, I peered through the trees into the clearing. There, men dressed in loincloths danced around the fire, Uncle Darrell among them. He wore bells on his ankles and wrists.

  As I stared at them, footfalls crunched behind me. I whirled, shoving my glowing hand into my pocket. There, standing behind me, I found a man. His potbelly hung over his loincloth, and he’d painted his face with blue streaks. Moonlight shone on his bald scalp. By his smell, he was definitely human.

  He pushed his spectacles up on his nose. “Oh, hello there. The, uh, the shaman said the drumbeat might attract mates. Primal thing, innit. Are you here to mate?”

  “No, I’m not here to mate,” I said quietly. There was no way in hells I wanted to hit this guy with lust magic. This conversation had started off bad enough as it was.

  “You are, actually.” He leaned against the tree.

  “Don’t tell me what I think, fuckwit.” My voice came out louder and angrier than I’d aimed for.

  He held up his hands. “Sorry. I was told that what women really want is to be controlled and protected by an alpha. We went stag hunting tonight to connect to our primitive selves.”

  I brushed my fingertips over the strap on my chest, tempted to use my sword on him. This man was wasting my time.

  “It’s in the hormones,” he went on. “Females like a man who can provide. I read a book about it. Men are supposed to plant their seed in a harem of younger females. It’s biology, innit.” He cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, turns out, a stag is very hard to shoot with a bow and arrow, so I can’t say we caught one. Derek caught an arrow in the leg, and Kevin injured himself with the bowstring. Someone brought a goat, but it ran away before we could shoot it. The bloody thing ate our cheesy biscuits, too, and I’d really been looking forward to them.”

  I was still mentally ticking over the moral issues with just cutting off his head.

  “Anyway, how do we proceed?” he went on. “I’m not entirely comfortable with human mating rituals. Should I buy you a sausage or another type of food item? A box of cereal? I could get you a kebab or something and then we could have some sex while I try to bite your neck from behind, like a lion?” He made his hands into claws.

  I blinked. “You’re not…human?” I could have sworn he was. He smelled human, and he seemed too feeble to be anything else.

  A loud chortle. “Oh, I am! Of course. I just seriously don’t know how normal human mating rituals work. I was told something about providing food and biting, to assert dominance.”

  I glanced back at the shamans. Uncle Darrell was gripping the stag’s antlers on his head. “None of these people know how normal humans behave. You’re learning from the wrong people.” Which would make it all the more difficult to pick out the angels among them, unless I just rained the magic down on top of them.

  Another human man lumbered behind him. This one had strapped cardboard to his arms, and he’d glued the cardboard with orange and yellow feathers. He wore a bird mask pushed up on his head, and he gnawed on a chicken wing. “Oh, heya, Martin. Did you lure a female for mating?’

  Martin scratched his nose. “Yeah, I’m not sure she’s going for it. I’m not really sure what’s going wrong.”

  “Did you tell her about the lion-biting?” His friend frowned, perplexed. “And the kebab?”

  Martin blinked. “I did, Gareth, yeah.”

  “I’m not going for it,” I confirmed.

  The bird man spread out his wings. “I’m actually a gladiator myself.”

  There was no way in hells this man was a gladiator. He’d die within seconds.

  “In World of Warcraft,” he added. “How’d you like to mate with a phoenix? Spiritually connect to the beginning and the end of the universe?”

  I shook my head. “Birds don’t have penises, so…”

  His face fell. “They don’t?”

  “Only ducks, but...” I let the sentence trail off. I’d wasted enough time with these two. “You know what? Never mind. Also, sorry about this.”

  “About what?” asked Martin.

  Rapid-fire, I slammed my fist twice into the side of Martin’s head, knocking him unconscious. Bird-man started to emit a little yelp, but I pivoted, bashing his skull with my left hand.

  The two human men fell to the ground, their chests still moving. Goo
d enough.

  I turned back to the clearing. With the ring on my finger, I summoned the lust magic until it crackled at my fingertips, pulsing with violet. I hurled it into the air, flicking my fingers at the end of the throw. The violet magic dispersed, spreading out over the festival. Pure lust rained down on the men. Within moments, they were groaning, rubbing their chests. Uncle Darrell got down on the ground to defile the soil once again. Overhead, ravens circled us, wildly cawing.

  Hiding behind the oak, I pulled my sword from its sheath, staring as some of the men began to transform. Dark, leathery wings sprouted from their backs. Their skin scaled over, reds and greens glistening in the moonlight. Claws and talons sprouted from their hands. Lightning cracked the sky, a flash of white light illuminating horns.

  The breath left my lungs. I’d heard of angels falling, but I’d never seen it before. My lip curled. It was repulsive.

  The Institute had been exactly right. Angels were trying to infiltrate the human race once again, an insidious attempt to start another apocalypse. I hadn’t thought angels were much of a threat these days, but apparently they were. We had to let these celestial beings know that if they tried coming to Earth, they would all die like mortals.

  Lightning speared the sky again, thunder rumbling. I scanned the crowd, counting the demons among them. Eight in total.

  What I hadn’t expected was for the demons to immediately turn on the humans, hungry for flesh. Their teeth and claws sunk into the humans’ skin. Inwardly, I cursed Ruadan. Maybe this hadn’t been the best plan. The pleasurable groans had turned to terrified screams.

  In any case, I was about to dispatch all the fallen angels. And Maddan hadn’t even arrived yet. Things were looking up for the Amazon Terror.

  With my sword drawn, I rushed into the clearing.

  As I did, a demon with iridescent skin and shimmering wings spotted me. He raced for me, dark magic spilling from his body, snarling as he ran.

  I swung my sword in a controlled arc and struck it through his neck.

  The scent of demon blood drew the others closer. Seven demons surrounded me, but at least they’d stopped ripping into the humans.

  I sliced my blade through the air, pivoting rapidly to keep them at bay.

  The human men were running away from the scene, shrieking. I caught a glimpse of Uncle Darrell pulling up his trousers as he tried to flee.

  A demon clawed at me from behind, slashing into the flesh of my back. I whirled, bringing down my sword hard into his shoulder. I nearly cleaved his torso, but I couldn’t quite drive it in deep enough. The fucker was still standing. Another vicious slash at my back, and I whirled again, driving my sword through the demon’s heart.

  Pain splintered my upper body, but I tried to block it out, to focus on the fight. I’d been outnumbered before, but six on one wasn’t ideal. At least they didn’t have weapons beyond their own claws.

  My own primal instincts began to take over, my blood sparking with adrenaline. They’d come to Earth to witness primitive beasts, and I could show them what they wanted to see.

  I had to move quickly, whirling as they lunged for me. I fended them off with parries from my sword. When teeth sank into my neck from behind, I nearly dropped my weapon, and blood pounded in my skull. Losing my sword would be death. Luckily, I managed to keep a tight grip on it, and I slammed my elbow hard into the demon’s ribs. Then I kicked the next demon who was lunging for me.

  Battle fury raced through my blood, my heartbeat slamming against my ribs. Strength imbued my limbs, as memories of my gladiator days whispered through my blood. The warrior in me was coming out to play. I was no longer Arianna. I was the Amazon Terror, steel and teeth, fists and rage. I didn’t feel pain or fear, only cold fury. The demons were after my blood, and I’d fend them off with the tip of my blade.

  My senses had tuned into the demons’ smallest movements—their labored breaths, their grunts, the shifting of their feet, their wings beating the air. As they clawed at me, I had a mental map of their positions.

  I thrust my sword through another demon’s chest. Five to one.

  A clawed hand raked at my back, deeper this time. I whirled. My sword carved right through his neck, blood spurting. Four to one.

  If these had been archangels, I would’ve been screwed. Luckily, they were regular old angels.

  I was breathing faster now, my heart racing. The demons had started screeching, frantic with a lust for death. One of them grabbed me by the hair, pulling my head back. His teeth clamped into my collarbone, and pain splintered my neck. I brought my foot up hard into his groin, then swung for the demons again, my action more wild this time.

  I tightened my grip on the sword, trying to summon the battle fury that would give me energy, and would block out the pain. As blood poured from my body, my attacks grew clumsier. Dizziness clouded my mind.

  Chapter 56

  My mouth had gone dry. Blood loss? Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I was wondering what Ruadan would do if it looked like I was about to die. Would he intervene?

  Sharp talons seared my side, and I swung again, slicing my sword right into the demon’s ribs. I drove it through to his heart.

  Three to one.

  I was floundering, badly injured. I needed a new tactic to finish this fight. A quick scan of the surroundings didn’t highlight anything I could use against them. But maybe distraction alone would help.

  Baleros’s sixteenth law of power: Use the element of surprise.

  I shifted my sword to my left hand, summoning the lust magic with my right. I flung the violet magic into the air, and it rained down on us. As it hit me, my skin heated, and my mind flashed with images of Ruadan.

  Gods damn it. I’d distracted myself, too.

  Still, it had worked, and the demons stopped trying to kill me. I tried not to look at the unfortunate demonic bulges they were sporting in their trousers, and I attempted to block out the memory of how Ruadan had looked without a shirt on.

  Death. Think of death.

  Darkness pooled in my body, racing through my limbs like an opiate, pushing the lust magic out to my extremities.

  Three distracted demons left to go. With a sharpened focus, I cut my sword into the first one, hacking off his head.

  Six down.

  I whirled, stabbing another in the chest. I drove my blade through his heart. When the last one lunged for me, I ran my sword through his abdomen. He fell, and I drew out my blade. Thick, sticky blood coated the steel, dripping onto the earth.

  Eight down. Euphoria bubbled in my chest. I was going to be knighted, at last. I’d finally be safe.

  With my opponents all dead, I gripped my side. They’d torn some of my flesh to shreds, ripping through old scars to make new ones.

  I speared the earth with the sword, then knelt down in front of it. A sacrifice for the Old Gods, who seemed to favor me.

  “Old Gods,” I mumbled, dizzy from the blood loss. “This is for you. A sacrifice and whatnot. You’re welcome.”

  A strong hand helped me up. I rose, practically falling, into Ruadan’s chest. He steadied me.

  “You did well.” His rich voice soothed me.

  I closed my eyes, leaning against him. “I’d say so. They’re all dead. None left for Maddan.”

  Ruadan’s body tensed, and when I looked up at his face, my pulse started to race. I could feel his heartbeat quickening through his shirt. His eyes had darkened, and he stared across the park.

  The air cooled. Ruadan pulled away from me, letting me stand on my own. I gripped my side, where one of the demons had slashed into my flesh.

  “What do you see?” I asked.

  “Grand Master Savus is here, and he’s not alone.”

  “To knight me, or what?”

  “He should be knighting you. It was the final trial, and you clearly won. But the ceremony usually happens at the Institute.”

  Mist had grown thicker in the park, curling in steamy tendrils off the grass. Slowly, my eyes adjusted
to the dark and the fog, and I shuddered at the sight of a small legion marching closer. Their silver armor shone in the moonlight, cowls pulled over their heads.

  “Who are they?” I asked.

  “That’s the mist army.” Ruadan stepped in front of me. The gesture would have annoyed me, except I was losing so much blood that I frankly needed the protection.

  Savus stepped out from the mist, his silver hair tucked neatly beneath his crown—the metal now rotten and black. “Arrest her.”

  Ruadan’s dark magic billowed from his body, tingeing the mist with darkness. The air around us grew so cold that the dew on the grass turned to crystallized frost. I hugged myself, shivering.

  “Arrest her for what?” asked Ruadan. His deep voice held a threat of violence that slid right through my bones.

  I gritted my teeth. Considering Grand Master Savus had brought an entire mist legion with him, we weren’t going to fight our way out of this.

  Savus’s serene smile was like a single claw up my spine. And when I scanned the army behind him, my heart only beat faster. Fog pulsed around them, as if someone were blowing it through a bellows. Their eyes glowed with silver.

  Savus tapped a leather-gloved hand against his silver fingertips. “The excuses about the reaping dagger. The lust magic driving her mad. That’s not what happened.” He cut a sharp look to Ruadan. “And you know it. You lied for her, didn’t you? I already had you flogged once for failing to kill her like I’d asked. I knew you favored the gutter fae. Now, I’ve learned you lied to me. Your mother would be so disappointed. A traitor to the Shadow Fae. All because a pretty demi-fae caught your eye.”

  My body felt weak, and I faltered. Savus had asked Ruadan to kill me? I supposed that was one way to get around angering the Old Gods. Have someone else do your dirty work for you. But Ruadan had refused. In fact, he’d taken a flogging for me, and he hadn’t even told me. I guess that explained the deep scars I’d seen on the back of his arms.

  But if Ruadan hadn’t told Savus about Baleros, who had?