Gray and Graves: A Dark Fae Menage Urban Fantasy (The Three Courts of Faerie Book 1)

by C. M. Stunich

  “Anyway,” she continued again, fixing her hair in the rearview mirror and puckering her lips as she admired her pretty features. “Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was going to say that you're lucky because tonight, I'm making my famous Chicken Alfredo con Queso.” I smiled softly at her, just glad to be around a normal person, someone who wasn't undead, wasn't a faerie, and wasn't a member of a religious cult. I didn't even bother to alert her to the fact that her Italian recipe was half in Spanish.

  As we climbed out of Char's Charger, she prattled on about her pasta recipe that I'd had at least a dozen times before and really, truly never liked all that much. But her cheeks were full and pink and her eyes were animated with her love for cooking. A love that didn't exactly equate to talent but was so genuine that I'd never been able to voice the truth. I nodded and grinned and when my stomach rumbled, I lied and said I was looking forward to it. I would just make sure to grab a couple of bottles of Chardonnay on our way out so that I could at least numb myself to part of the taste. God, I was going to miss her. Please let this trip to be Faerie be short. I hadn't asked how long we'd be there. Truthfully, I didn't want to know, was scared to.

  My phone was vibrating in my pocket like a mad thing as we leisurely strolled the quiet isles and each and every time I pulled it out to check the caller ID, it was a different person. Corey. Amadan. My mother (who the hell had given her a phone?). I turned it off and tossed it into my purse. I needed a night to myself. One last normal night before I went gallivanting off to Faerie, Samael in tow, and attempted to save the underworld from certain doom. I sighed. Heroics were tiring and so not my thing, but I had committed to this. I would see it through, no matter what. I just needed this bit of solace before the storm.

  “It's quiet in here,” I remarked absently as I wandered around the bakery section while Char picked up tray after plastic tray of pre-sliced cheesecake samplers looking for 'the best one.' She ignored me, rejected yet another platter, and then made a clucking sound in her throat as she went back to the first one that had come off the top of the pile, tossing it into the cart carelessly.

  “It's American Idol night or something, I think,” Char said as she grabbed two extra large bags of tortilla chips and a jar of salsa and threw those in, too. I gave her a raised eyebrow. I was glad that the store wasn't crowded but American Idol? Seriously? She ignored my expression.

  By the time we hit the checkout line, our cart was stuffed to overflowing with junk food galore. As I watched the sleepy blonde behind the counter ring up our purchases which included frozen pizzas, ice cream, and a three pound bag of chocolate covered pretzels, I found myself once again enjoying my undead state.

  “It's okay,” Char said, patting my back and drawing her wallet from her purse. “We'll gain the poundage together on a fucking amazing girl's night and we'll lose it again on some fucking amazing trips to that new gym.” She elbowed me in the side before swiping her debit card and typing in her pin. “There's this trainer that teaches Pilates there. Fucking hot. George, baby, you will like him.” I grinned at her and winked at the poor kid that was stuffing our bags into the cart at record speed. He flushed and nearly dropped the cheesecake platter before shoving that in, too, and giving me a shy smile.

  Char and I linked arms as we pushed the cart into the lot together and began loading bags into the trunk. The parking lot was nearly empty, the overhead lights a dim orange that flickered and died before flaring back into brightness, and then repeated the process. All in all, it made for a rather chilling atmosphere. I found myself grabbing several bags at a time and flinging them into the trunk, all the while checking over my shoulder. There was nobody there. I was being paranoid. I sighed in relief when Char slammed the trunk closed, smiled at me, and then took off towards the driver's side door.

  It was then that I heard the rumbling of wheels behind me. I turned around briefly and was met with the very same man that we'd almost hit in the crosswalk. His cart blinked cheerfully back at us, the green and red lights flashing merrily while he stared, yellowed eyes thrown wide, and one finger outstretched towards me.

  “You'd better watch yourself, girly,” he said to me and then spit at the ground in front of my feet, crossing his hand over in his chest in the sign of a cross. I stared after him, unable to form anything in response, and watched as he took off at a stumbling run through the parking lot.

  “You okay over there?” Char asked from behind me. It wasn't until I turned around that I saw him. Or I suppose it would be a better term. A reaver. I tried to scream for Char to run, but before any sound could escape my lips, the creature was wrapping his gnarled hand around her throat and pulling her back against his boil-covered chest, pinning her to the oozing flesh. Char's eyes were wide and watering, fearful and pleading with me to do something for her. I grabbed the edge of the car and flung myself over the top, using every bit of magical strength I had in me. I wasn't trained in any sort of martial arts and certainly wasn't used to acrobatics of any kind, but I managed to land on the hood rather gracefully, my legs bent gently beneath me, and launched myself at the creature.

  I ended up slamming into the pavement, shoulder first. I rolled to the side and looked up, only to see the thing sprinting across the nearly empty street and flinging itself over a chain link fence on the other side. It darted between parked cars and disappeared before I had even gotten my legs beneath me. I took off after it only to be sidelined by something big, hard and reeking. It smelled worse than the docks on a summer day, like rotting fish and used motor oil, and it sent me flying across the parking lot. My body wrapped around a pole in a manner that most certainly would have been the death of me had I been alive. I slid to the ground, the glamour enhancing the pain in my twisted spine as I struggled to sit up.

  The creature that had hit me was, surprise, surprise, another reaver. This one had been female at some point, considering the drooping breasts and ridiculously rouged lips. She wiped a gnarled, misshapen hand across some of the oozing sores on her face and lumbered towards me. Obviously this chick had been a professional wrestler or roller derby pro in real life because from what I could remember about the last reaver, they didn't get that much bigger with the transformation, and she was huge.

  I scrambled backwards, wishing I had the means to drop my own glamour, and tried to think past the pain. Char was what mattered. Char was what was important. I glanced across the street. There was no sign of the male reaver. Of course there wasn't. He was probably halfway across the city by now. I braced a hand on the pole of the street light which I had hit with such force that I had actually dented it, and tried to focus on the thing in front of me. I didn't think I could outrun her which meant I had to fight. I sucked in a breath, tried to ignore my strong gag reflex, and felt around with my new, untrained senses for magic. Other than a residual stink of salty seawater, there was nothing. This reaver wasn't possessed by Gadrael. Not yet.

  I took a second to glance around, looking for more reavers or even bystanders watching me fight a monster. There was no one. Stupid American Idol.

  At least there wasn't a whole horde of creatures after me. Either these ones had stumbled upon me by accident or they had been sent out to find us and the cavalry was already on the way. I didn't want to find out. I needed to get the hell out of there.

  The reaver rubbed at her face again and then began to run towards me, much slower than her male counterpart, but with the promise of strength and pain in her thick arms. Parts of her scalp gleamed with white bone as she passed beneath one of the briefly flickering street lamps and barreled into the spot where I'd just been standing. I'd rolled to my left, towards the car, trying to get a better look inside to see if I could find the keys or maybe even a cell phone. Then I remembered. I didn't need a phone to call Samael.

  Samael, I called out, urgency pitching my mental voice like a soprano, I need your help. I didn't have time to craft a more informative message because the reaver was on me in that instant, and I found myself stum
bling away. Twisted, yellowed nails scraped my belly and tore the fabric of my red T-shirt. I slammed into the Charger with a grunt and just barely managed to duck out of the way of a meaty fist. Glass showered down around me. Fortunately, it was the safety kind, breaking into dull shards that failed to cut my exposed skin.

  The reaver wasn't all that intelligent, thankfully. Whether it was because the transformation had twisted her mind to the point of breaking or if she had just been that dumb to begin with, I didn't know, but it did give me the chance to duck under her arm and bolt past her. I whirled around and waited for her to realize that she'd hit the car and not me while I tried to figure out what to do. Corey had sent me into some sticky situations before. As a zombie, that's kind of what I was for. But I was better than a normal zombie. I could think. Make decisions. Apparently, that made me better than a reaver, too.

  Finally, she turned around to face me, red lips twisted in an angry scowl and took off in her lumbering, bear-like run. I waited until she was almost on me and then ducked again, falling between her legs and immediately springing to my feet, charging across the parking lot in the opposite direction. My entire plan hinged on the idea that Char had left the keys. I could only hope I wasn't making a mistake.

  I slid into the front seat quickly, giving the ground nearest the vehicle a speedy once over. I didn't see any glinting of light off metal. I slammed the door and felt around, checked the ignition, ran my hand underneath me. Nothing. The car grunted and shook as the reaver barreled into it, grabbing the door handle and yanking so forcefully that metal separated from metal with a scream and went hurling across the parking lot. I made sure the doors were locked and continued my search.

  Samael? I called and felt a shallow answering in my gut. It meant he was busy. Again. Somehow these fuckers always seemed to be able to attack both of us at once, even when we were across the city from one another. Very coordinated. Very precise. Very scary. I switched my search from keys to cell phone. I found my purse on the floor in front of the passenger seat and dug through it until my fingers brushed black plastic. Amadan answered on the first ring.

  “You arrogant bitch,” he greeted me, and I could tell something was wrong. His breathing was harsh and forced. “Where are you?” Before I could answer, I felt a twisting in my gut like I was on a roller coaster and I suddenly found myself tumbling sideways, the phone falling from my fingers as the car was flipped upside down.

  “Downtown,” I screamed, hoping the call was still connected as I tried to brace myself with my hands and keep my neck from being snapped by the spinning car. The reaver didn't stop at just turning the car over. She kept going, twisting the massive hunk of metal over and over like a rolling pin until we slammed into another of those damned streetlights. The passenger door caved in dangerously close to my face and nearly blinded me. I struggled to crawl into the backseat, grasping the door and pushing it open with a horrible scraping of cement. I forced myself to climb out and tried to make a run for the edge of the parking lot. The fae didn't seem to want to announce their existence to humans. Maybe if I managed to get somewhere with people … I didn't get the chance. The reaver grasped me around the waist with her massive hands and threw me over her shoulder in a fireman's carry. I clawed at her back with my nails and wished fervently for a knife or a gun. I was an idiot for not carrying one after all of this shit got started.

  Samael, I screeched into my head and then, remembering I was in the middle of a city, decided to scream out loud as well. “Samael!” The reaver grunted, adjusted her grip, and then slammed me forward, off of her shoulder, and onto the pavement. My head cracked with a sickening crunch and my eyes dimmed, my vision flickering briefly as my body tried to pass out.

  Only I couldn't pass out. If I did, who would take care of Char?

  I kicked blindly, grinning when my foot connected with something squishy, something that gave with a whoosh of air and then rewarded me with the crash of knees of pavement. I struggled to crawl backwards, cursing when my body refused to respond. Stupid, mother fucking glamour, I growled inside my own skull. Just go away.

  And just like that, it was gone.

  Surprise wasn't the word I was looking for. Maybe shock? But I didn't have to time to think about my good fortune because the reaver was up again, and if she hadn't been pissed off enough before, she certainly was now. I think her orders had originally been to bring me in alive. I also think she had just forgotten that fact.

  She started by grabbing me by the foot and hauling me into the air. With my vision clear and sharpened, I got a wonderful, upside down view of a row of zombies rushing towards me. Most of them were, for lack of a better word, fresh, and if it hadn't been for their lumbering gaits and blank eyes, I might've just thought that they were humans. The million dollar question here was, were they friend or foe? I guess the reaver had that same thought because once she'd hauled me into the air, she just stopped, frozen, bulging eyes locked onto the newest players in our little game. I took the opportunity to kick her in the face with my other foot. She screamed and released me, my head once again taking the brunt of my fall, but this time, despite the horrifying crunch and the subsequent splattering sound that followed, I felt nothing.

  I stood up and started running without once looking back.

  The male reaver had left a trail of goo and pus and blood in his wake. It was smeared on the top of the chain link fence, across the bumper of a brand new Lexus, and on the back entrance of a throbbing club. All of the extra glamours I had dragged with me had either been crushed in the fight or left in my purse, so I followed it for as long as I could, trying to keep my rotted form hidden from the humans around me, until suddenly … it just stopped. It was like he had vanished into thin air. I searched the empty parking lot for longer than was really prudent and found no more signs of the bastard that had stolen my friend. I cursed and kicked an empty beer bottle.

  Shouts resounded from inside the club, raucous voices of people dancing, laughing, drinking. Things I had liked to do before all of this had started, before I'd been murdered, before I'd discovered that the universe was even darker, even more twisted than I had thought. I put my hands on my hips and forced myself to take several, calming breaths. They didn't do much in my zombie form, but at least they made me feel better.

  She has to be around here somewhere, I thought as I scoped out the area. There was no way I was leaving without Char. No way I was abandoning her to a fate worse than death. There was still time. If I acted fast, I would find her. I had to.

  I opened dumpster lids, terrified of what I might see, but found nothing but garbage and rats. It was only when I moved them that the panic that had been threatening me all along became overwhelming.

  Faerie ring.

  I gasped, stumbling, my hands releasing the blue metal of the dumpster. It rolled down the incline, smashed into a chain link fence. I look around startled, expecting to see someone from the club. But no one came. The music was too loud, the drugs too good, the sex too hot. I swallowed and took a step forward. I had never intended to touch it: if I did, I might be taken to Faerie, might be transported somewhere that would consume me whole, twist my spirit into an unrecognizable monster. The only way to guarantee where I would end up, to control the ascent or descent or whatever it was, was with the help of someone like Corey.

  But still, if Char was in there, then I wanted go in there, consequences be damned. Did I have time to alert Samael, to get Corey's help?

  Samael, are you there? No response. Not good. I started forward, only to be stopped by a firm hand on my shoulder.

  “I would … ” a familiar voice iced with anger and frustration spat out at me. “Reconsider your actions if you'd like to live to see another day.” I turned around. Dark purple eyes glared down at me. Amadan.

  “I have to go in there,” I told him, my heart pounding. Since when was I this brave, this selfless? This is for Char; I have to do this for Char.

  “Not on my watch,” Amadan growled an
d released my shoulder, turning away and marching off across the pavement as if he expected me to follow blindly. But I was done with that shit. I turned back towards the brown mushrooms and took off at a run. I nearly made it.

  Amadan wasn't gentle when he threw me across the parking lot, and I suspect that if I could've felt the impact of my back against that dumpster, that I would've been in a whole shit load of pain. As things stood, I felt nothing and got to my feet quickly, prepared to go for it again.

  “Don't make me get rough with you,” Amadan said mildly, casting a glance over his shoulder nervously. He knew something, something bad. I wanted to know, too. Need to know is more like it.

  “What is it?” I asked him, keeping a safe distance. Maybe if I managed to distract him long enough, he'd move away and I'd get a chance to dart past him.

  “It doesn't matter,” he told me softly and narrowed his eyes menacingly. “Don't even think about going in there; I'm in enough trouble with Samael as it is because of you, and I'd rather not dig myself in any deeper if you don't mind.” I stared back at him, mouth slightly ajar.

  “Because of me?” I shouted and watched with pleasure as Amadan cringed. He was afraid of something and didn't want whatever it was to know we were here. Not that I did either, but his desperation might help me with my bargaining. “I seem to remember you being an equal partner in our little rendezvous together, or are you one of those people that believes a girl can get herself pregnant?” I was only making a reference; I couldn't get pregnant, not as a zombie, but I think the metaphor whizzed right past Amadan's ears and pierced into some part of his brain that either craved or feared that thought.

  “You're pregnant?” he asked and I swear to God that a thousand different emotions flickered across his face in that one instant: fear, anger, loathing, joy. It was the last one that scared me the most.