Institute of the Shadow Fae Box Set

by C. N. Crawford

  “Neither am I,” I said. “That’s why we’re in disguise. We blend in, make ourselves look like weak humans until we can figure out … what the hells is happening.”

  Warm candlelight flickered in some of the palace windows. Was Baleros in one of those rooms? I was tempted to rush into the palace and tear the place apart until we found him, but like Ruadan had said, he could never see us coming. We had to know exactly where he was before we attacked.

  Just before we crossed under the arch, the sound of baying hounds turned my head. I held my breath. Above us, a glowing figure streaked beneath the clouds, lightning flashing around him. He wore a dark cloak, and his eyes burned orange, like Mars—so bright I could see them even from here. Enormous, white phantom hounds pounded the sky, pulling his chariot and leaving streaks of pearly white in their wake.

  I exhaled slowly. This fomoire was definitely not an ordinary fae.

  “Is that Arubian?” I whispered.

  “That’s him,” said Ruadan.

  His path began to arc above the palace, a wide, graceful swoop.

  “You three blend in,” said Ruadan. “I’m going to search the palace. Don’t do anything until I come back.” Ruadan’s enormous form grew indistinct, dark mist whirling around him.

  My muscles tensed completely as we moved toward the courtyard. Arubian had covered the entire courtyard with a hardwood floor, and lights flashed over the rink. Partygoers skated around, laughing with each other. The Bee Gees song “Massachusetts” blared over a speaker, echoing off the palace’s stone walls. On the outskirts of the parquet floor, lanterns jutted from the earth, at least six feet high, flashing with pink, green, blue….

  I glanced at the palace walls, which formed a square around the rink. Was Baleros in one of those wings?

  A blond woman with pigtails glided over the floor, ducking down low and sticking out a leg in a move I thought might be called “shoot the duck.”

  We rolled onto the disco floor—all of us except Ruadan, who I could no longer see.

  The partygoers were singing along to the Bee Gees, something about the lights going out in Massachusetts. I thought Arubian fed off dread? Where was the dread? These people were having fun.

  Aengus rolled headfirst into the crowd, having absolutely no control over the skates. He plowed into a group of laughing women, who helped him up, shrieking with delight. One of them grabbed him by the arms and swung him around in a circle, arm over arm. She was laughing uproariously, while he had a look of terror on his face. The Bee Gees warbled on.

  Ciara grabbed my arm, and we took off over the floor. I had the sense that she’d spent her American youth on a pair of skates, because she was soon slipping away from me to roll backward like an expert, singing along to the disco, arms outstretched.

  Bits of hail began raining down, catching in the colored lights of the rink like disco sequins falling from the sky. It was summer. Why was it hailing? I didn’t care, because it was beautiful. I had a strange, giddy feeling, and I wanted to stay here all night, laughing with my new friends.

  I tried a turn, skating backwards to the sounds of falsetto singing.

  But when Arubian cut over the cloudy sky again—a ghostly flash of white—my nerves juddered. What exactly did he do with these people?

  But the music seemed to mesmerize me, and I quickly forgot about him again. I tried a twirl on my skates, gripping onto the straps of my backpack.

  Another flash of white—swooping closer this time—and my throat tightened. The melodious singing of the Bee Gees floated over the crowd, and Arubian’s hounds began to descend. None of the humans seemed to notice the mood shifting, the air thinning. They didn’t seem to notice the music changing and growing more dissonant.

  It was only at that point that I noticed the streaks of red on the parquet floor—smears of blood among the melting hail. A severed finger. My stomach flipped.

  Still, around me, the skaters danced on, smiling. I rolled closer to Ciara, then grabbed her arm.

  “Ciara,” I whispered. “Get ready for some disturbing shit.”

  “What do we do?” she asked.

  “Nothing until Ruadan gets back. We stay alive, and that’s about it.”

  A man with a potbelly and a yellow T-shirt skated past us. He twirled before us, smiling at his own prowess, then he looked me up and down. He grabbed his crotch, expertly skating backward. “Can I show you a little skating move I like to call the slap and tickle?”

  I blocked him out completely, eyes flicking to the skies again as I caught a glimpse of Arubian charging for him. The Bee Gees sounded darker now, and my pulse began to race faster. The hounds were heading for the creepy man who’d just been leering at us, and he didn’t seem to notice.

  I grabbed Ciara’s arm, and we skated away from him, blending into the crowd. I stole a quick look back at the man.

  My jaw dropped as one of the hounds tore into his leg, and his heavy body slammed onto the parquet floor.

  Now, a few people in the crowd began shrieking, finally noticing that something was amiss.

  I gritted my teeth, willing myself not to jump into the fray. I was here to gain information about Baleros, and I wouldn’t get anything if I tried to save every random, dickhead human.

  The hounds backed away from the man, but they growled at him as he tried to stand.

  Arubian swooped lower, and I caught a glimpse of his face—his skin the color of bone, features a beautiful mask of death.

  Chapter 86

  The crowd’s screams trembled over my skin, and I mingled among the humans, watching from a distance as Arubian touched down on the parquet floor. A dark grin twisted his features, and he reached out a long, bony hand toward the man. The man’s screams ripped through the air, and he scrambled up to his skates. With his damaged leg, he was off balance, now, and he kept stumbling as he tried to roll away. He left a shiny trail of blood behind him.

  Arubian flicked his wrist, and one of the hounds snarled, lunging for the human again. The dog ripped at the man’s arm, tearing into his flesh. The human went down hard.

  Then, the hound transformed into a lean but muscled two-legged form—with pointed dog ears and sharp canines. As long claws grew from his fingertips, the shifter stalked his prey. The man was crawling backward like a crab.

  Arubian glowed with silver light, his face a picture of ecstasy. Here was a fomoire, feeding in his natural habitat. It was repulsive, frankly.

  The hound shifter lunged, striking his claws across the man’s belly, opening him up. Bile rose in my throat, and I turned away from the sound of the screaming.

  I’d seen my fair share of carnage in my days—hells, I’d delivered my fair share of carnage. But this seemed particularly cruel and drawn out. I’d hacked through necks, stopped hearts. I’d poisoned people with my mind. So why did I feel a sense of superiority? I guess my kills were fast, and I never relished my enemies’ torment, never drew out their pain or their horror just for the fun of it. I was practical—Arubian was a sadist.

  Was Ruadan? What the hells did he get up to in his free time? Did he have an underground nightclub somewhere, complete with a disco ball, where he tortured people to death on Saturday nights?

  Despite the horror on the parquet floor, no one was leaving the roller disco. Another fae trick—trapping the victims in the rink just by screwing with their minds.

  The white hounds circled the roller parquet floor, teeth bared. Were the Bee Gees still playing? Gods help us all, this was disturbing.

  I rolled on, pretending like I had no idea what was happening.

  I cast a quick glance back to Arubian, who now stood hunched over the dying man, lovingly stroking a bony fingertip over the human’s lips like a mother hushing a baby. There was hardly anything left of the poor guy, and yet no one was delivering a mercy stroke. Blood pooled below him on the shiny floor.

  I couldn’t say I was learning much here. Had Ruadan found anything? Because we were running out of time, and I wasn’t g
etting us any closer to Baleros.

  As if hearing my thoughts, a dark form flickered by my side, and Ruadan’s piney scent curled around me.

  His breath warmed my ear. “Baleros isn’t here. We need to interrogate the fomoire. Take out the dogs first. Then we go for Arubian.”

  I nodded, slipping my backpack off my shoulders. Good. I got to kill again.

  Arubian was lost in his dark ecstasy, his body glowing. He didn’t notice when I reached into my backpack, grabbing onto a sheathed knife. He didn’t notice when I pulled out my tool belt and wrapped it around my waist, or when I shoved the dagger in it. I pulled out a lighter and a can of deodorant, slipping them into my belt, too.

  I scanned the crowd, watching as they tried to scatter. Half the skaters were crying, terrified, and the other half were still laughing and oblivious.

  The rest of the hounds began transforming, bodies elongating until they were shaped like men—only with snouts and long ears.

  After what I’d just seen, I was hungry for their blood, and a smile already curled my own lips. You like hunting the weak, don’t you? You like to torment those who can’t fight back. Let’s see how you like messing with me.

  I didn’t have to choose which shifter to go for, because one of them already had his sights set on me. Smiling, I skated away from him, luring him closer and swaying my hips. I moved fluidly over the floor, weaving between the crowd. This was a strange sort of seduction, one that would end in his death.

  He prowled closer, then shifted back into his hound form to run, lighting-fast. As he leapt for me, I pulled out the lighter and can of deodorant. I flicked the lighter, sprayed the can, and flames burst into the air.

  He yelped, jumping back, and burst back into his humanoid form. On the floor, he snarled, holding his face. I circled him on my skates, reaching for my dagger.

  I hadn’t quite pulled it out when his claws raked through my chest. Pain pierced me.

  Fucker was fast, and he had much longer arms. I’d have to keep blasting him with fire. Gritting my teeth, I unleashed another burst of flame, igniting his white hair. While he was busy covering his skull, I lunged in with my iron dagger. I plunged it between two of his ribs, then pulled it out again to thrust it up his rib cage, tilting it toward his heart.

  He slumped to the ground, dead.

  And that’s how you kill someone, civilized-like. No need to draw it out.

  Already, another shifter was charging for me in his hound form. I gripped the blood-soaked knife and tossed it at the oncoming hound.

  Unfortunately, he managed to shift just a bit at the last moment, and the dagger caught him in the shoulder instead of in his chest. I hadn’t even slowed him down.

  Shit.

  I needed a sword, godsdamn it. I gripped the deodorant and blasted him with fire, but he wasn’t dumb enough to come close when I had my makeshift flamethrower. It wouldn’t kill him.

  Baleros’s fifteenth law of power: Always use your surroundings.

  My gaze darted to the colorful lanterns that lined the rink, and I sped over to one of them. I gripped it with both hands, ripping it from the ground.

  I grinned at the sight of its pointed tip, but my joy was short-lived. Powerful, white arms gripped me from behind, knocking me off balance, claws digging into the bare skin at my sides. I slammed onto my back, just barely managing to hang onto my makeshift weapon.

  Two on one—they didn’t care for fair fights.

  How many people had they tortured to death? How many women—just like me, only weaker? The hound shifters liked to dominate.

  From the ground, I gripped the metal lantern stake and swung for the legs of the closest shifter. I took him down, then leapt up to my skates—nearly falling off balance, as I’d forgotten about the wheels. I whirled, slamming the stake into the next shifter’s head. He faltered, but the shifters were strong, and I didn’t take him down. Clutching my new weapon, I began skating away until I could even out my odds a little bit. Just out of range, I turned and hurled the stake like a spear. It slammed into one of the shifters, and he fell back hard to the ground.

  My gaze flicked to Aengus, who was fighting with his dagger. He’d ripped the wheels off his shoes, and he pivoted to drive his blade into one of the shifters.

  I didn’t even know where the hells Ruadan was, but the trail of shifter corpses told me he was racking up a body count somewhere around here.

  I snatched another lantern from the earth, and when one of the shifters came for me, I snarled and drove the tip into his heart before he could even reach me.

  The hounds were closing in—some shaped like men, some like animals. Their snarls echoed all around me, and I turned in a circle to find that I’d been surrounded.

  I am the twilight shadow that creeps over long grasses....

  My death instinct began whispering through me, shoulder blades tingling.

  I am the hunter who creeps up behind you.

  One of the shifters lunged from behind, knocking me to the ground, face-down. Climbing all over me like I was the damn spoils of war, his teeth pierced the flesh at my throat. Pain screamed through my body. He was pawing at me, scoring my skin with his claws, and rage began to rise.

  I’m not your prize. I will steal your food and your breath.

  From the ground, I brought up my elbow hard into his ribs, cracking them so hard I must have broken them. Another slam from my elbow and he started to slide off me. When I stood again, I was gripping hard to the lantern. The shifters started to move in on me, eyes glowing.

  I’m your last rasping breath.

  I swung the lantern, carving its pointed tip through lungs, hearts, bellies—my body moving so fast my mind could hardly keep up. It wasn’t me anymore; it was the dark angel. The euphoria of battle ignited me, and I felt my shoulder blades tingle.

  I’m the darkness swaying beneath your feet.

  Chapter 87

  The pointed tip of the lantern found its way into a shifter’s white neck, dark metal piercing ivory. With a roar, I ripped it free again, ready to take on the next shifter, my body buzzing. But when I scanned my surroundings, I found that the shifters were all dead.

  I took in the rink. Arubian stood in the center of the floor, watching me. Ciara was hiding somewhere, I thought. Aengus was fighting off two hounds. By the archway, a shadow appeared to rip a shifter’s heart out of his chest. That would be Ruadan.

  I looked down at myself, and some of the death instinct slipped away from my body. Dark blood soaked my glittery disco clothes and my skates.

  I was calming myself, now, but I felt rattled by the sense that my death instinct was growing stronger, desperate to break free. Maybe that’s what happened when you spent too much energy trying to suppress something. Whatever you were trying to keep down would just ram you hard in the ribs until it got control again.

  Shit.

  Now, the humans were skating around the wounded bodies, some slipping on the blood. Most of them were crying, heaving for breath. And yet, it still seemed that they couldn’t bring themselves to leave.

  Arubian’s eyes were locked on me and me alone.

  I waited until I caught a glimpse of Ciara, red hair streaming behind her, before moving toward Arubian. As a fire demon, Ciara was supposed to be our real muscle here.

  I gripped the lantern as I began to skate over to him, while Aengus and Ruadan moved behind him.

  “You killed my hounds,” he said quietly. Up close, I could smell the scent of yews.

  Out of the shadows, Ruadan appeared, his violet eyes blazing. “Baleros. Where is he?”

  Arubian pulled down his cowl to reveal dark hair slicked back on his head. His expression was much more amused than I’d expect from a man who’d just watched his henchmen massacred in his home.

  “We’re looking for Baleros,” Aengus added. “Has he been feeding you these humans?”

  “Where is he?” Ruadan asked, the air around him chilling.

  “Ah. Baleros.” Arubian was
positively glowing with pearly light, beautiful as the moon itself.

  Turning, he surveyed his domain. A few hunched servants had rushed out to mop up the gore with an efficiency that suggested they did this all the time. Arubian gestured at the remaining skaters, who were now clinging to each other, rolling past the carnage. “It’s true, Baleros brings me these wonderful presents. These humans who keep me company, who stop me from starving.”

  Ciara stepped forward, holding up her hands to the sky. “I am a fire demon,” she declared.

  “Congratulations.” Arubian didn’t look particularly impressed, so the information about his fire fears might have been a bit misleading. He pulled a packet of cigarettes from his cloak and tapped them in his palm a few times. Then, he slid one from the pack, holding it out to Ciara. “Care to light this for me?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t really do that kind of thing.”

  This conversation had taken an unexpected turn, and I wasn’t entirely clear how to get control again or how to instill the sort of terror we needed. Sighing, I pulled out a lighter from my tool belt, then lit his cigarette. Even the smoke smelled of yews.

  As I tried to think of what to say, Ruadan disappeared into the shadows again.

  Might as well get to the point. “Look, Arubian, can you tell us where to find him, or do we have to torture you with fire and lanterns? Those are your options.”

  “Not a giant fan of torture.” Arubian shrugged. “And I am on a bit of a high from all the death.” He blew a smoke ring into the air. “Fine, you didn’t hear it from me, but I’ve heard a rumor that he’s taken up residence in the old home built for Nan and Burly Hal. You know, before the awkward breakup.”

  “Who the fuck are Nan and Burly Hal?” I asked in my usual diplomatic tone.

  Arubian’s orange eyes burned into me, and they reminded me of dying stars. Why was he staring at me so intently? I wasn’t the interesting one here. Ruadan was the half-fomoire demigod.

  “Baleros has given me soldiers. Did you know that?” The red tip of Arubian’s cigarette danced in the gloomy light as he gesticulated. “I can’t say they’ve come in useful. They have been busy, after all, framing the Shadow Fae for their attacks. And they’re protecting him in his palace. You’ll never get past his army. You won’t get within ten feet of him before they close in on you and blow you to pieces with iron shrapnel.” He blew another smoke ring into the air. “I might see if I can turn up to watch the show. Sometimes, I can feed off fae.” Arubian shrugged. “I know fear. Know it as intimately as I do my own hands.”