by Gwen Rivers
The In-Between
A Fae and Fur Urban Fantasy
Gwen Rivers
Copyright © 2019 by Elements Unleashed
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
The In-Between
Chapter 1
About the Author
Also by Gwen Rivers
The In-Between
A Fae and Fur short story
Tricked into service, for centuries North has been nothing more than a silent observer of the fae and human worlds. Unable to communicate with anyone, he watches and protects, an invisible guardian. With the werewolves positioned to enforce the crossing on the eve of the fae’s migration to the human realm the Unseelie royals have agreed to release the souls tethered to Underhill. But not all of the fae are content to have power stripped from their world. When a band of rogues launch an ambush on the werewolves, it’s up to North to make a dangerous transition and risk losing the little that remains of himself to the in-between.
Chapter 1
The man who was also a wolf rolled off his lover’s sweat-slicked body. From outside the Manhattan high rise, North watched as the male sprawled on his back, more tense than he had been when he had sought her out a few hours earlier.
“We have to stop meeting like this.” The heaving brunette’s smile stretched from ear to ear.
She thought her words were clever. The man only grunted, unimpressed with her post-coital playfulness.
Oblivious to his mood, the woman curled into his side and threw a leg over him. It was a possessive gesture that made the male tense. Her eyelids drooped in carnal satisfaction. A satisfaction North had witnessed ten thousand times, yet never experienced for himself. Within moments she would drift off to sleep, lost to the world. Ensnared by the dream realm.
The man wasn’t satiated. His mismatched eyes, one green and one blue, were restless. Sex didn’t ease him, not once in the sixteen years North had been observing him. He was an odd beast, always hungry, always on the prowl, always yearning.
It was why North felt a kinship with him. He too yearned for the elusive more.
The male made no excuses as he extracted himself from her cloying grasp and reached for his pants. He spoke no words of reassurance. Made her no promises. He never did. If the woman read more into it, that was on her. He offered nothing but pleasure and seemed to get very little in return.
Yet he hunted. Night after night on both sides of the Veil. He had bedded fae and human women alike. Never his own kind though. Never a werewolf.
Dressed once more in his faded blue jeans and black t-shirt, the man let himself out of the woman’s apartment. North drifted down the side of the building to where the doorman stood and waited for the male to emerge.
A moment later he did. He nodded to the doorman who tipped his graying head in return. The werewolf turned left and headed toward the river, his shoulders tense. Back to work.
North pushed on him. The January wind ruffled the male’s shaggy dark hair, made the fabric of his shirt billow. Passersby shivered against the gust, huddling deeper in their coats. Not the wolf. He was hot-blooded in every sense of the word.
From deep within his pocket, the male’s phone buzzed. He fished it out and looked down at the screen.
A familiar face was displayed there, one very similar to the male’s, though he wore no beard. A grin split the stone of the man’s unshaven face and mischief lit his eyes as he held the phone to his ear. “Uncle Aiden. Coming up for air, finally?”
“Watch yourself, pup,” the voice on the other end of the line growled. “That’s my mate you are talking about. As well as the mother of your queen.”
“And you know I respect her. She’s like a sister to me. Is it my fault the two of you have developed a reputation for being such carnal beasts?”
The voice on the other end cursed in Old Norse and the scruffy one smiled. Finally relaxing a bit.
“What is it you need?” The male leaned back against the side of a wall and placed one booted foot against it, the picture of casual. North knew he was anything but. Those mismatched eyes were always restless.
“It’s happening tomorrow.”
North had no body. If he had, every molecule within it would have gone utterly still. Tomorrow?
The wolf scowled. “So soon? But there are still fae—”
“Tomorrow, Liam. Underhill proclaims it. Be here.”
Liam cursed as the line went dead. He stowed the phone and then walked. Not back to his job, but to a nearby diner. It was a place he went when he was uncertain, a place that grounded him. The little bell above the door jangled as he walked inside. A rotund human clapped his hands and gripped his forearms, dragging him to the counter. Normally North would have waited, followed the werewolf back home.
But something shivered through him. Tomorrow.
Unable to contain his excitement, he bolted toward the river. Across the bridge to the far side. A ripple of power washed over him as he crossed the magical barrier between the mortal world and the newly constructed realm of the fae.
A mirror, a magic-made replica the fae called a pocket realm, or PR. Every street, every building, every scuff on every alleyway was identical to the island he had just left. The giant-made sixth burrow that had appeared right after the One True Queen of the Unseelie Court had revealed the existence of the fae to the world. Their own Manhattan.
Except it sat empty.
North blew past buildings and through streets until he reached the place the werewolves called “the center.” It was a squat cinderblock building, a warehouse with fogged windows. Luckily two of them were broken, which allowed him to slip inside.
Two of Liam’s werewolves guarded a red door. Each of them had one green eye and one another shade. It was the mark of the werewolf, the only way to tell them apart from the humans they’d once been. The buxom redhead called Autumn lounged on a crate, only ever at ease with her companion. She was the only she-wolf in the pack. Gray, Liam’s second in command, stood at parade rest, feet planted, hands clasped behind his back. His military background visible with every move.
“He’s really your mate?” Autumn breathed in her husky voice.
“Spencer.” Gray’s upper-crust British accent toyed with the name.
“What did it feel like? Like, how did you know?” Autumn leaned forward.
Gray’s expression turned soft, dreamy. “His scent. It smells like…coming home.”
Autumn blew out a breath. “That’s…wow, Gray. I don’t even know what to say. Have you told Owen yet?”
A bit of Gray’s pleasure dimmed. “No. I don’t want him to think I didn’t love and adore his mother. He doesn’t know….”
“That you’re bi?” Autumn rolled her mismatched eyes. “Do you really think he’ll care? He’s not Liam.”
“I told Liam already.”
Autumn’s jaw dropped. “What? Why would you do something like that?”
“He’s the Alpha.”
“So what did he say?” Autumn raised one red-gold brow.
Gray fidgeted, an odd look of discomfort on such a large person. “Liam told me to ignore it. He doesn’t trust the mate instinct.”
“And he can be a complete Alphahole,” Autumn muttered.
Gray laughed. “You better not say that to his face.”
Autumn waved that caution away. “Like I’d be the first woman to do so? Liam feels guilty because he thought he was doing what was best for us, keeping us isolated in the Bl
ack Forest. You’re the third wolf to find your mate in the last sixteen years. My bet, he’s worried he’s up next.”
Gray snorted. “The Alpha with a mate? Can you even imagine?”
Autumn hopped off the crate. “Have you told Spencer yet?”
“Gods, no. He doesn’t even know what I am. How can I explain to a man I just met that he is the missing piece of my soul? Even saying it out loud sounds batshit crazy.” Gray shifted from foot to foot.
“So why aren’t you working your seductive magic on him right now?” Autumn tilted her head to the side.
“Rubio got stuck on the far side. Someone had to cover his shift.”
Autumn made a dismissive sound. “We’re watching a door in a mystically protected land that only giants and those with their blood can enter. I think I can stand guard duty alone.”
North could see the indecision on Gray’s face. His responsibility to the pack warring with his desire to spend more time with his mate.
“If you’re sure?” he hedged.
The she-wolf pushed at him playfully. “Go. Destiny awaits.”
North waited until Autumn patrolled to the far end of the warehouse before he squeezed through the cracks of the closed door.
And into chaos.
The Veil that separated the human realm—Midgard—from the home of the forever young, known as Underhill, was impossible to detect. The only way through was with the aid of a transitional space, like a doorway or a fairy ring. The Wild Hunt, those forever young riders that stalked the souls of evil, had a weapon that allowed them to cross the Veil at will. But for everyone else, they needed a place of crossing. An In-Between
North had no body, not anymore. No senses of taste or touch or smell. Sound stayed with him, necessary so he could obey commands. And he could detect images, though his vision wasn’t true sight. It was more a tool for assessing a threat.
It made him a better weapon.
Above was a series of multihued lights, like distant stars of every color. Below a covered bridge floated. It was a rickety old thing with no visible sign of support. If North had a body, he wouldn’t risk it on that.
The In-Between had no defined border, no marked paths, other than the bridges or boats. One who fell off the edge would fall forever. Body and soul lost from existence.
North followed the bridge and hoped he wouldn’t miss the event. Time moved differently on either side of the Veil. There was no predicting it. One who crossed the Veil could lose several minutes. Or a hundred years.
Normally, North didn’t care. What did time matter to an endless existence? But Underhill said it was happening tomorrow.
And he didn’t want to miss it.
North emerged on the blasted plane outside the Unseelie Crystal Palace. It sat like a beacon of hope amidst the barren wasteland of destruction. Nothing grew, nothing rooted or bloomed. It was as though a bomb had gone off, leaving nothing but dust and ash.
Quick as he could, he swept up to his queen’s turret and found her standing with her hands braced on the railing.
She wore a thick white sweater and faded jeans, though her feet were bare. She had on electric blue toenail polish—her daughter’s suggestion no doubt. Her white-blonde hair blew back as he caressed her slight form and those icy blue eyes warmed in greeting.
“And where have you been, my friend?” she whispered to North.
She was the only being that recognized when he was near or spoke to him. He wrapped around her, wishing he could embrace her the way her werewolf did.
“In Midgard again?” Her delicate mouth curved up in a smile. “Stalking Liam? He fascinates me, too.”
My queen. He thought the words but couldn’t communicate them to her. Underhill, he reminded himself. She was no longer the Unseelie queen of air and spirit. She was Underhill, her life force tethered to the land around them.
It didn’t matter though. Nicneven would always be his queen.
“Did you hear?” Her eyes sparkled. “It’s happening tomorrow.”
If the wind truly could sigh, North would have done so in relief.
Her gaze went to the fae encampment that sat at the far side of the plain. “They aren’t happy with me, you know. But I don’t give a fuck. It should have been done long ago. No one deserves to be imprisoned.”
Her gaze turned sad.
She knew. More than any other corporeal body, Nic understood. Because the fae realm was constructed to be sentient, a living soul had to be present to hold it together. That soul could never leave, would never die.
Forever young. And forever trapped.
“I wouldn’t admit this to anyone else,” Nic murmured. “I have no clue what I’m doing. It could all go horribly wrong. You could be lost. All of you.”
I don’t care, he wanted to tell her, to plead with her to try it on him before anyone else. Anything to end this floating void of numbness.
Until she had come, he’d forgotten himself. Forgotten who he’d once been. His hopes and dreams, everything that made him human.
“Nic?” The male voice was the same one he had heard over Liam’s phone. He made no noise as he walked, the ultimate predator.
“Did you tell Liam?” Nic glanced over her shoulder.
The male with the dark hair and leaf green eyes nodded. “He’ll be here. Are you sure you’re ready?”
She exhaled. “Yes. No. I don’t know. What if I screw it up, Aiden?”
“You won’t.” The wolf embraced her the way North wanted to, enveloping her body with his own, lending her strength.
“Come back to bed,” she coaxed. “Hold me.”
“Always.” The wolf bent his head and took her lips in a searing, possessive kiss.
It was a bittersweet sight. The wolf was good to her, had protected and cherished her through two lifetimes. North could relate. He too had loved her from the start. And he wanted her to be happy.
Even if it was not with him.
With one final caress of her porcelain cheek, he left the lovers alone.
Some things even he, the ultimate voyeur, couldn’t stand to witness.
North drifted over the plane above the fae camp. They were a pitiful sight, huddled around their fires, naked and half-starved. Camps like these were dotted across the realm, beaten, bent, terrified of what was to come. Nic’s predecessor had done her best to annihilate the race of the forever young. She had almost succeeded.
North swept down so he could overhear the conversation between a mother fae and her two kits.
“But what will we do in Midgard?” The smallest one had large brown eyes that filled with panicked tears.
“Whatever the queen commands us.” The mother’s shoulders curled in but she plastered a reassuring smile on her face for the sake of her offspring.
North remembered another mother with that same sort of phony smile…. The thought drifted away like morning mist.
“The queen told the humans about us?” The larger fae’s pointed ears twitched. “How will we steal from them?”
“We won’t. The queen made an Oath that we would not harm humans in any way so we can no longer take from them.”
North knew they weren’t referring to his queen. Not Underhill, but the One True Queen of the Unseelie Court. The most powerful fae who’d ever been born. It was she who decided that the fae should cross the In-Between and reveal themselves to the people of Midgard. She who had made the Oath to the human leaders.
When a royal made an edict for her subjects, all were compelled to obey it.
None of our kind will raise a hand against a mortal. Under no circumstance will the fae cause deliberate harm to a human, whether by action or deed.
The mother was right, that included stealing or even defending themselves from the mortals. That was why the One True Queen had traded with the giants to set up the PR and appointed Liam and his werewolves as guardians of the new fae borough.
“Are we really leaving tomorrow?” The other kit yawned.
“
At first light. So you best be getting back to sleep.” She kissed her offspring on the forehead and then moved to the fire where another fae woman sat.
“Some of the others are talking about staying.” This fae had green skin that took on an emerald hue in the torchlight.
“Staying where?” The mother fae shook her head. “You know Underhill plans to release the guardians.”
Guardians. North had heard that word before. As if he and the spirits like him were protectors of the elemental magic instead of slaves tricked into being bound to the elements themselves.
The mother continued, “Without magic, nothing grows. Half the realm is poisoned. We’ll starve.”
“But to live amongst the humans?” The green-skinned fae asked. “To be held to that oath and be unable to defend ourselves?” She shook her head.
“That’s why the werewolves are there.” Even the mother sounded unsure.
North swept past, losing interest in the conversation. They would have to leave, even if Liam and his werewolves had to track the stragglers down and forcibly remove them.
What was more troubling was the sentiment that the fae needed magic to survive. Would some of them try to stop Nic from freeing him and the other guardians?
He moved out over the blackened plain, through the charred stalks of trees and over the scarred mountains toward the sea. He fought to recall what it was like to breathe in the air, to taste the salt on his tongue or the feel of sliding sand between his toes. It had been so long and he’d forgotten what it could be like to be human. To know taste and touch.
Beneath him he sensed the ocean’s spirit. It was restless, eager, just as he was. North didn’t know the spirit’s name. Hell, he couldn’t even remember his own name from the time before.
But he remembered his life.
Born a sickly peasant in a Baltic feudal empire, he had been left out in the woods to die. But a young girl had found him, still wrapped in his swaddling and brought him home to her mother.