Nemesis

by Genevieve Iseult Eldredge

  I call my fairy wind. Whoosh! A bank of summer breezes blows in, speeding me along.

  At least now I can stay ahea—

  Sssnap! Moribund tentacles lash at me, filling the air with thrashing circuits. One wraps my arm tight, nearly yanking me to the ground. Fwoosh! I flame on and burn it to ash. My fairy wind’s not cutting it. Time to windwarp

  My power wraps me up, hot and bright, and I vanish in one place and reappear a hundred feet down the road.

  Aww, yes! I’m mentally high-fiving myself when—

  Zaaaap-pop! Zzzzotch! The Moribund circuits flash and pop across the Grymm. In a flash, they turn into black lightning, zapping across the ground, leaping to the streetlights. Like a dummy, I watch as they zip from streetlight to streetlight. Heading right at me.

  “That’s just not fair.” I gather my fairy wind and catapult into the night.

  Yup. They’re powerful because my girl is. I can’t help the sense of pride swelling my chest. Roue’s going to be an amazing queen, the kind that can start wars—or stop them.

  I’m counting on it.

  Just like I’m counting on being able to outrun her Wild Hunt.

  Black lightning leaps to a streetlight ahead of me. The bulbs shatter, spraying glass, and the Grymm reform on the street below. Grwaarr! Three leap at me, snapping, foam flying. The ozone stink of their breath chokes me like death as I fend them off with Fae strength. Wham! One hits the side of an alley. Crunk! Another flies into a group of garbage cans, spilling trash everywhere. The third I kick in the chest.

  They’re off me, but I’m panting.

  Think, Syl. A place where they can surround me, but no one’ll get hurt. Preferably somewhere with iron to weaken them.

  In case I really can’t talk sense into Rouen.

  There used to be a circle of iron around RVA—that’s what kept the dark Fae from finding me in the first place—but Agravaine and Rouen destroyed it to find me.

  A circle of iron…

  Dabney Station! A massive trainyard on the west side.

  Zzzzootch! The Grymm break apart into six bolts of lightning, zapping in at me. They reform into a wall of black bristles, gleaming circuitry, Moribund tentacles.

  Crap. I don’t slow. I hit the first one like a linebacker. Red rover, red rover, send Syl right over. I break through the threshing tentacles, and the chase is on again. I hit the interstate, leaping over cars. My Fae-sight goes bananas with all the lights. I shield my eyes with one hand, windwarping over and around traffic. Soon enough, Dabney Station comes into view. Rows and row of iron tracks, empty train cars, old engines broken down for repair. This place is desolate, a train graveyard. How creepily fitting.

  Because if I can’t talk Roue down, one of us really might die.

  I need her blood and she needs mine. Our realms depend on it, and only one can survive.

  Panting, I windwarp into a circle of tracks near the center. The Grymm skid to a stop, talons digging up the dirt. Pacing, they whine, looking for a way across. They can’t get at me, and I can’t hurt them.

  There’s only one thing left to do: call their mistress.

  I set the greasy paper bag on the ground inside the circle, the smell of spicy pork turning my stomach. Whoosh! I send up a flare, making the Grymm yelp. It hisses up into the night like a firework, then bursts, turning the entire sky white before fading like a star.

  “Okay, Roue. Come out, come out wherever you are.”

  Me and my big mouth, because no sooner do I say that than, far off, in the distance, a flare of violet bursts, then rushes toward me—lashing violet lightning zapping from streetlight to streetlight.

  It’s Roue. She’s coming for me.

  Like Glamma says, Be careful what you wish for.

  8

  DARK - ROUEN

  Wild Hunt

  Bring her down

  Down, down…

  - “Capture Me,” Euphoria

  There she is. The sight of Syl’s white flare shooting up, up, up into the night sky stings my eyes and makes my heart stutter-step. My Wild Hunt has her. I hope she’s not hurt. That thought comes unbidden, and I squelch it. The Queen of the dark Fae does not show mercy. Even now, I feel the Grymm’s eagerness. They’ve surrounded Syl, but they can’t get at her. She’s drawing me out. Excitement and fury flare up inside me, hot and cold, and not entirely unpleasant. A low growl rumbles from my throat.

  She wants a showdown? I’ll give her one.

  As the flare fades, and night closes down once more, I step into the shadows of an alleyway, the bain sidhe a silent silhouette at my side. Ignoring her side-eye, I obtrude, projecting part of my consciousness into the lead Grymm. They’re connected to me by Fae and Moribund magic, so it’s not hard at all. My vision goes watery and weird, catapulting forward as my senses meld with the Grymm’s. When it clears, I see in Grymm-vision: a trainyard, train cars, tracks, nothing but desolation.

  And Syl. She’s trapped in the middle, my Hunt pacing a tight circle around her, baying.

  My mind works, calculating. Syl’s the math genius, but there’s only one place with that many parked trains. Dabney Station. She’s standing in circle of iron. My vision goes watery again as I pull my senses away from the Grymm.

  Smart girl. An odd sense of pride explodes in my chest. She knows the iron will weaken me.

  And that flare? My enemy queen’s thrown down her challenge.

  Turning to the bain sidhe, I grip the black violin. “Time to answer Syl’s call.”

  “You sure, dearie?” She cocks her head, one beady black eye fixed on me. “You seem…conflicted.” She chuckles, preening at her dark, cobwebby hair.

  She’s right, but there’s no way I’m going to admit it. I hitch my mother’s violin higher on my shoulder. “Watch it, old bat. You might be powerful, but I’m still queen.”

  And there are advantages to using the Moribund.

  With my gramarye synced to Wasteland’s, I’m unstoppable. I reach out, more Circuit Fae power than I’ve ever felt thrumming through me, and touch the city’s electrical grid. It crackles through the air, prickling electricity across my skin. My mouth floods with a coppery taste.

  Mentally, I trace every circuit, every loop and fuse.

  Pushing my consciousness into my Grymm was nothing compared to what I’m about to attempt.

  I call upon UnderHollow, and the power slams into me, thrumming through my bones, my blood, rattling my teeth. My hand bursts with violet electricity, and Wasteland howls in sync, Moribund circuits humming. The power that rips through me intoxicates me, so intense I’m bursting with it.

  Hells, I can feel my eyes glowing black.

  It’s an easy thing to shed my skin and become pure lightning.

  Dizziness grips me as my vision orients to this new reality. I see the bain sidhe below me as a series of light and dark pulses. Then, I’m off. Zoom! Lightning-me races along the ground then leaps to the nearest traffic light. In my wake, the city lights flicker, brown-outs flaring across the city, and I leap from traffic light to the parking garage transformer to streetlight. My heart races, adrenaline pumping through me.

  It’s official: circuit-tripping is a rush.

  In seconds, I’m across the city.

  Zzzzap! I zoom into the edge of the trainyard. There, I resume my normal form, brushing the crackling black lightning off like a cloak.

  The trainyard falls quiet. All my defenses are up.

  Fair Fae are tricky, and I’ve seen Syl turn the tables on more than one bad guy. Gravel crunches under my feet. Lightning crackles the ground where I walk. Wasteland keens, sensing our prey.

  Good. I want to get this over with.

  I’m steeling my mind to kill, but my heart’s not at all prepared. It seizes the second I see her.

  Surrounded by my Wild Hunt, Syl stands, a bright beacon in a dark sea. She’s both adorable and sexy in her skinny jeans, Chucks, and a torn graphic tee. Her red curls frame a face set in seriousness, and I can’t help the
leap my heart gives when her eyes, an alluring summer-storm grey, catch mine.

  Images of fighting alongside her threaten to derail me from my true purpose. Warmth spreads in my chest, but I fight it. I must save my people. In my hand, Wasteland pulses and throbs, and soothing, dark waves crash over me, drowning my compassion, freezing it beneath wintry waves.

  I stride forward to meet the enemy.

  My Grymm lift their heads to howl. Your mistress is here. “To me.” I snap my fingers, and the hounds come to heel. Standing with them, I feel powerful, a queen ready to take back her kingdom.

  Then Syl shatters all that. “Roue…” From the protection of the circle, she reaches for me.

  I should keep my distance. I should watch her hands for white fire, a trick, but no. I lurch toward her, my weak heart pulling me in.

  I shouldn’t get too close.

  Her fingers brush mine. I mean to push her away, to push myself away.

  I don’t do either.

  Her scent hits me, vanilla and sunshine, and I’m a goner. “Syl.” All my pain and love tremble my voice. My mother’s violin slips from my hand, and I entwine my fingers with Syl’s.

  “Roue!” With a cry, she drags me in.

  Our bodies collide softly. Instantly, I realize how sore, how hurt and worn-out every part of me is. All the Ravagings have drained me. I ache. Then, she’s in my arms, her warmth pressing against me, and I don’t care about my mother’s legacy. I don’t care that I’ve stepped over the line into the circle of iron, the deadly metal sucking at my power, weakening me.

  In Syl’s arms, I don’t feel weak. I feel like I can do anything.

  She runs soft fingers along my arm.

  Her touch is everything.

  “Let me help you.” Her warmth envelops me, chasing the chill from my heart. I lean into it, leaning on her strength. She’s tiny, but she could blow me over with a feather.

  “Syl…” But what can I say? Faerie is suffering because of our love. I shouldn’t feel these things anymore.

  Syl stands on tiptoes. She touches my dark hair, runs her fingers over one pointed ear. Tingles rush through my body, every part of me on terrible, wonderful fire. A moan rips from my throat.

  Her grey eyes capture me as she reaches for my hand. “Rouen, trust me. It’s me. Syl.”

  “I know who you are.” But do I know who I am anymore? Am I Rouen, Queen of the dark Fae, or am I too weak to do what must be done?

  She takes my hand, turns it over, and traces the lines where the Moribund used to infect me. “We beat the odds then.” She cups my cheek gently. “We can beat them again.” Gently, she pulls me in.

  I don’t fight her. How can I? Every part of my heart and soul belongs to this girl.

  The heat between us swelters. Our lips brush. “Rouen, I love yo—”

  Fwoosh! In a fiery flash, a massive black horse plows into the circle, knocking us apart. I stagger away. Syl falls to the ground, my heart tearing out after her. Nightmare Miss Jardin paws the ground, flames licking up from her shiny black hooves. Quicker than quick, she shifts back into her “human” form, grabs Wasteland.

  She shoves it into my hands. “She’s lying to you! Don’t you see?” She points at Syl.

  White flames wreathe Syl’s hand. “Roue, no! I was trying to… I wanted to—”

  Wasteland howls in my hands, its screams pulsing with darkness and sinister thoughts. Burned rubber tinges the air, and inside me, hatred blossoms. “Love is the enemy.” My father’s words. My mother’s instrument.

  Only by combining the strengths of my royal parents will I become the queen I was meant to be.

  Slowly, I straighten, calling my Wild Hunt to me. In a flow of black, they ripple to my side and set up a baying howl that shakes the tracks. The stench of iron and rust in the air. Beneath it, I scent Syl’s blood. Her heart.

  Her heartstrings. Wasteland howls in answer.

  Syl backs away, her summer grey eyes steady. “I don’t want to fight you.”

  I step up, violet lightning crackling around my fist. “Too bad for you then. Because you’re mine.”

  Even she hears the double meaning in my words, but I launch to the attack. There’s one way to get her out of my heart and soul.

  Kill her.

  9

  SYL

  A Dark Fae who ignores her hungers

  Will fall

  To her dark side

  - Glamma’s Grimm

  The last person on earth I want to fight is Rouen Rivoche, but I’m out of options. I need her blood, and with Dark-Rouen in charge, she definitely can’t be reasoned with. She strides toward me, all black-haired, smoky-eyed, sexy hotness clad in leather. Even though she’s coming to kill me, lightning crackling around her fist, my heart does a little flutter.

  Stupid heart.

  It’s going to get me killed for sure.

  “Roue, please…” I back up, stepping over the tracks, edging toward an empty train car. “We can save our realms. Together.”

  “Liar!” Her voice, so filled with fury and hatred, isn’t her at all.

  As I watch, her eyes flash from sapphire-blue to black, signaling the power of her dark side. I back up, my mind unhelpfully going to all those comic books, when Supergirl or Captain Marvel gets taken over by some evil force. Only, this isn’t a comic book, and I have no idea how to break the Darksider spell she’s under.

  The spell that’s doing a great job of convincing my girl she wants to kill me.

  The air between us supercharges, seeming to rev like an engine in overdrive, my pulse pounding, my senses filled with a burned rubber stench. Violet lightning and black Moribund electricity crackle around Roue, turning the shadows into dark bruises. My heart freaks out for two reasons: One, she’s serious about fighting me, and two, she’s using the Moribund. Somehow, that violin lets her use that evil dark-circuitry magic without becoming infected.

  Ah, that can’t be good. Magic in Faerie always has its price.

  “Roue…” Maybe my voice will somehow snap her out of it?

  Zzzam! Violet lightning strikes the ground at my feet, leaving a smoking crater where I was just standing.

  Nope.

  I backpedal fast. Okay, Syl. Talking’s out. I’ve never seen my Roue so filled with dark power. Crackling with lightning, eyes glowing shark black. Like Agravaine’s. Like Fiann’s.

  Like every other dark Fae bad guy we’ve ever come up against.

  As I leap behind the train car, my Summer power ramps up inside me, burning to get out. Dark Fae and Fair Fae are mortal enemies, and my Summer fire wants out to fight Rouen’s Winter. We’re the queens, genetically engineered to kill each other.

  So far, we’ve managed to overcome our genetics. But tonight, our luck may have just run out.

  Because my Roue? She’s drowning in dark power.

  Still, I have to try. I clench my fists, snuffing out the sparks. “Listen—”

  Zotch! Another bolt flies over my head, crashing into a tangle of tracks. They kick up into the air like a mess of swords. Pang! Pang, pang! They smash down around me, bending, twisting with the force.

  I leap to the top of a train car. “This isn’t you!”

  Her smile curves, showing a hint of fangs. “Oh, it’s me, princess.” Smoke and burned rubber wreathe her in power.

  Gah, could she get any sexier? All my love and desire and fear crash into a tangled mess. “I don’t want to fight you.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have come.” She grabs the train car, violet lightning racing from her hands along the sides and up the metal roof, zigging toward me in deadly spurts.

  Desperately, I jump clear. She throws the car aside like it’s a toddler’s toy. Wham! It crashes into a pile of construction wreckage, metal rods and racks spilling everywhere. She keeps coming, and now, the Grymm stalk me too, all of them trying to surround me.

  I’m all alone, and my enemies are multiplying.

  “Yes!” Miss Jardin crows from the sidelines, her
eyes glowing red with hellfire. “Use the violin! Use it now.”

  Gotta admit. I’d kind of forgotten about her.

  Rouen hasn’t though. She lifts the black violin to her chin. It’s got no strings, but dark energy pulses off its glossy surface. The sheer force of it warps the air in an inky distortion around my Winter girl, and that burned-rubber stench gets stronger. My Fae-sight screams in pain at just a glimpse.

  So that’s Jardin’s game.

  That black violin. Somehow, it’s the key to her Darksider spell. Which leaves me with two choices.

  I dodge another violet flare.

  One: get the violin away from Roue and destroy it. Before she kills me.

  Zzzzap! More lightning sears across the night, crisping the ends of my red curls.

  Two: Glamma always said, Kill the caster, kill the spell.

  Dread slicks my stomach. Can I really kill Miss Jardin? I’ve never killed anyone, and I don’t believe in endgame solutions like death. But as I watch, I see the Darksider spell gripping my Roue, enhancing her dark side, suppressing her emotions.

  If I don’t free Roue, one of our Faerie realms will die. Maybe both.

  “Come out, come out!” Miss Jardin calls. “Come out and get heartstrung.”

  “No thank you!” Whatever that is, it sounds bad.

  I’m running out of time and options. The Grymm creeping behind her in a swarm of inky bristles and white fangs, Rouen stalking me around the train car, black violin pulsing in her hand. The thud, thud, thud of her boots on the ground mimics my throbbing heart. I slide beneath it, my back scraping gravel as I come out on the other side, breathing hard.

  This isn’t the first time I’ve been hunted by dark Fae, but it might be my last.

  No choice, Syl. You have to kill Miss Jardin.

  Thud, thud… Roue’s getting closer. The stink of bitter ozone stings my nose. Static lifts the hair on my arms and nape, my red curls frizzing instantly. I sigh.

  Another downside of fighting a girl who has lightning powers? Win or lose, your hair’s toast. Not to mention, all this iron doesn’t seem to be having its usual effect on Roue. She’s as powerful as ever.