Last Ride of the Umbra Fae

2. Vessa

2

Vessa

T he smell of heavy smoke clung to our clothes from the tavern we’d left to burn to ash. Dead bodies would have been gifts to those who pried, and we didn’t need anyone on our tail for at least a few days.

There had been something hidden within the rain since we’d left that godsforsaken town hours ago, as if death had somehow found a way to break through the clouds casting light upon our course. Pa was in no rush to face whatever was lurking in that storm, he hadn’t been in a while. He was waiting for whatever it was to catch up; a change since the day we’d lost my sister and Ma. It was like watching him dance with death on the crumbling edges of a cliff. Borderline reckless, if you asked me, always reveling in every life he took like a cowboy riding his way to hell.

In some fucked up way, I was just as reckless. If that was where we were heading, then at least I’d had a taste of it. I’d lived in it far too long to know a life outside of it. The only difference between Pa and myself was that I chased that high, riding so fast that not even the bird himself could keep up; with my arms stretched out astride my horse, open to whatever would catch me if I fell. If that was death, then so be it. The rush was always freeing, the danger compelling, lurking beyond the pall just to see what the fuck would be on the other side. Had I not been given the hand I’d been dealt, I might have cared about how hard I rode or how brutal I killed. But if the ancestors had been right and they were waiting for us, then I could see why Pa and I were in a hurry. I didn’t fear death as I once had as a child. Grief had sprouted a grueling monster within, and we stoked it like a flame. I would watch this world burn until it turned to ash if it meant seeing their faces again.

As I looked deep into Pa’s eyes, shadows lurking beyond his years, I saw we were the same.

We just had different ways of showing it.

I would have never guessed this was how the next chapter of our lives would have been, venturing out like this, but here it was, never-ending. Even after all these years, I didn’t know how I was still holding on to the reins.

Pa’s black stallion kept a slow trot as he looked up ahead. I caught sight of another storm thundering in the distance across the flat and desolate terrain. No doubt Mother Nature was boxing us in. She knew disease when she felt it littering the humans’ soil, as if she, too, had already chosen a side.

Pa watched the birds give chase into the rain, hoping to find their own relief from this scorching heat. He was always hard to read, rigid and stone-cold, his expression void of most emotions. I didn’t know why, but I still looked every day for something a little different.

“You won’t find nothing here, Shadow. No matter how many times you look back,” he said with a too-observant smirk that drew a huffed laugh from me. He had a way with words. He could throw out a handful and each one would pack a punch to the soul. Pulling back on the reins, my mare slowed until we rode side by side, the last bit of heat against our backs. His voice was deep and raspy, one that held many years of smoked herbs and a special blend that he used to hide in his spruce box.

“I would kill a man or two just to have a hit.” I smiled, thinking of the stone that would lift from my chest for a puff.

“Only two? You’re just being coy now.” He laughed gruffly, finding pride in the way I handled myself in every situation. “Here.” He tossed something onto my lap. Looking down, a smile curled on my lips as I picked up and admired the rolled herb smoke between my index finger and thumb.

“How did you?—”

“Don’t thank me, thank him .” He grinned, short and to the point, as he pointed toward the sky at the bird who’d been circling above us.

The bird and I were bound, not by fate, but by force, thanks to the elders of our village when I’d been a child—back when I’d been getting into too much trouble.

I looked up. “Thanks, asshole, but you forgot about Pa,” I called out, only to get a cawed response.

“Oh, he took care of me,” Pa said, finishing with a wink as he patted his chest, revealing an entire pouch of it. “You stay out of my pockets, and you’ll be seeing more of these.” The creases around his rich brown eyes deepened beneath the blazing sun. I loved it when he smiled. It was just as rewarding as the tonic he’d bring home to “keep my demons in check,” as he’d say.

“Deal.” I returned the smile, thankful he had sensed this coming before I had. This would have to do to ease the pain and the pounding of my heart until we could find more.

I’d been born with an illness that had almost killed me, and the scars that marred my arm from when we’d been attacked had led to a blood disease that manifested when the moon harnessed too much energy. The source of my power was a gravitational invitation for pure fuckery. I’d only experienced it a handful of times; the twisted, gut-wrenching pain so intense, I’d wanted to carve the damn marking right out of my chest.

The Eternal stone had once hidden within the Blightstone Hollow, a sacred forest southeast of where our ancestors foretold the path would be carved by the blood of fae. Within those crimson grounds of whispered tales and curses now lay the empty space that echoed its loss through the hollow.

Its presence was the only thing that could have created the remedy I needed. Looking at this rolled herb was better than staring down the bloodied beam from the gallows. “Hell’s Mark” is what fae called that hellhole of a town where the others met their fate.

It wasn’t long before I pulled out a flask of water, appreciating its stale taste as it went rolling down my throat. I removed my black felt cowboy hat, the wind cooling the sheen of sweat beading above my brows. As it blew through my hair, I was reminded of a time when it wasn’t a sin to expose our ears or hands.

I took another long swig before pouring the remnants over my head, closing my eyes, and tilting my chin toward the sun as it dripped down my face and between my breasts. The breeze fluttered along my sternum against the symbol beautifully tattooed on my flesh.

Once in a blue moon. The power of Ano.

Ano was the goddess of half of the moon, and in the gods’ ancient language, it meant light. I ran a finger over the slightly raised skin, tracing its circular shape. It was a fading reminder of the stories Ma had once told. It was a whimsical summon, calling upon the energy of the moon and harnessing the power it provided, for it was an echo of our past and a reminder of what the gods and goddesses had given us. Our ancestors had told a story about two star-born goddesses, one soul: Ama and Ano , the dark and light side of the moon, also called half-lights . Though I had the power of Ano , it wasn’t always pretty when I summoned mine.

“A moon has many phases; do not sit on the dark side of it for too long, my moon.”

Ignoring the hum in my chest, I ran my hand through my hair, allowing the pain of Ma’s words to consume me by taking a deep puff of herbed smoke until the burn hit my lungs just right. Another hit to ease my mind. As soon as my ears felt the cool breeze, I knew it wouldn’t be long until their star-like shimmer would reflect the sun, casting a bright enough glint to make Pa turn his head. It’d been a while since I’d exposed them during daylight. They had become a symbol of what we were hunted for. We were rare—barely seen.

With our black-tipped ears and onyx hands, the Umbra Fae were known as omens to the humans, our differences drawing the line between our two species as if they made us inherently bad.

The air felt like freedom. I missed the days when we didn’t have to hide, but here I was, stealing a small moment of it before?—

“Put your hat back on or you’ll get yourself killed,” Pa warned.

There it was. Fear. Not for himself, but for me.

“We are in the middle of a gods-damned desert. There isn’t anyone for miles,” I said, taking another puff of the herbed smoke, but my mind still reeled back to whatever was lurking in that storm.

“You don’t know that,” he sharply replied.

“Well, Pa, maybe I just don’t give a shit anymore.”

“You should.”

“And what about you?” I pulled back on the reins until my horse came to a complete halt. “If you don’t care, then why should I? Why keep fighting if it’s just to survive?”

My heart pounded against my chest while he remained calm and calculated. You could cut the tension with a blade and it would still be potent. I stood my ground, hardening my gaze as his jaw began to flutter in aggravation. That had been too much truth for the old man as shadows stirred in his dark brown eyes. I gritted my teeth in challenge.

“You might be a grown woman, but you are still under my care.”

Under his care.

I scoffed. “I am chained to a feathered bastard, who you so happen to like.” I waited for a remark from the bird above us, but he was already flying away as I glanced up.

Clever bird. He hated when we argued.

The air remained charged as the two of us faced off, but a slight shift in the wind changed the entire atmosphere. My senses heightened as the energy hummed around us, but it wasn’t from Pa nor me. With a brow raised, we stared in cutthroat silence until the feeling passed, but the inner cleave across my chest remained, because even now, I still couldn’t get him to say how much I meant to him. Anger stung my eyes.

“I am a prisoner on open terrain. Fate be damned for you.” I clicked my tongue and gently nudged my horse’s sides with the heels of my boots, riding off before I could hear his retort.

I caught up to the bird, my shadow , and it wasn’t long until we saw an outline of another shithole town off in the distance.

“Tell that stubborn old man there’s a sight on the horizon.” I opened the bond on my end so he could speak.

“He already knows,” the bird said, coasting down to perch on my shoulder. Upon landing, he stretched his glossy feathers wide.

I huffed. “Of course he does.”

Another land, another town. Another hellish place I could never claim as home for long. Nothing more than a bed to rest my head at night and maybe a man to fill it. Those nights rarely happened. Skies were endless and dreams were painless because sleep never came. All I had were living nightmares—ones I couldn’t escape. By the looks of some of the people who roamed these dirt roads, they were living the same kind of hellish waking dream.

Pa’s horse galloped in haste as he approached me. The tension had eased, but the way he tightened his grip on the reins told me some remained.

He’d get over it by tomorrow, but his leather gloves groaned and creaked, reminding me of his worked and calloused hands, strong enough to snap the neck of any fae or human alike. I knew my limits with the legend these lands feared, but I was still crazy enough to test him.

We seemed to draw every man and woman’s gaze as we rode into town, pretending to be something we despised, like we were just some ordinary human folks. We had no choice but to stay hidden in a world where we were hunted.

Fear was a dreadful bitch, a disease that festered in the cracks of their morals.

This worthless town had no more than a dozen or so buildings, and we claimed it as ours for the night. All dirt paths led to some rundown places that not even the tumbleweeds wanted to bounce by. Luckily, the best-looking building was the saloon—most likely the only building that brought them any money.

They wouldn’t know we were fae at first glance. Marked by darkness, or so the story went. Our markings depicted who we were. Black-tipped ears with hands that looked like they were dipped into the dark evoked fear in those who were not like us. But it was the rarity in the iridescent glow to mine that turned heads. The same star-like luminosity freckled across my face. They were beautiful when exposed, complementing my bronze skin. In the right light, they were what had made me stand out from the rest of the Umbra Fae—the shadow wielders. Ma had said I was marked by the goddesses of the moon and that’s why I shone like a star beneath it.

We kept our ears hidden inside our cowboy hats. My dark hair cascaded down in soft waves, flowing to my hips with strokes of sun-kissed highlights. Pa’s shoulder-length, salt-and-pepper hair had the perfect blend of dark leading to deep sideburns and a sharp jawline. For the most part, we appeared normal, but I couldn’t let people get too close to me because, frankly, I was just too fucking shiny.

A man walked across the road, carrying a lantern to light his path. I caught sight of a faint, amber glow brimming out of his pocket. There was only one stone that harnessed that much healing.

Our Eternal.

The blightstone was a gaping reminder of the betrayal to all fae. It was a hybrid of amber and bloodstone. When two worlds collide , the ancestors had said of how the stone of Eternal was formed. Its never-ending glow would always light the way to those who needed healing.

The brute looked our way, dipping his worn hat in greeting as his leather chaps swayed from side to side, oblivious to who stared back. I felt the hum against my chest as the magic of Eternal cast its song, churning like thick honey, calling to salve the cracks in my soul and rebuild its crumbled foundation. My eyes stung as a deeper part of me summoned the shadows, which yearned to crawl their way out to make a home around his neck.

“Good evening, ma’am,” he said.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, gritting my teeth and only sneering in response. I should kill the human and take back what was ours.

When he saw I offered no warm greeting, he looked to Pa. “Sir.”

Pa tipped his hat, but beneath the brim, his side-eyed glare sent a warning strong enough to coil down my spine.

Not worth it.

My jaw tensed, reining back the recklessness that was brimming over.

He’s right. We weren’t here to take the morsel of the stone this human had somehow salvaged; we were here to find that tonic. But I knew, eventually, I’d be back, and I’d take the entire fucking realm of it.

Clicking my tongue against my cheek, I watched the man disappear inside his home as I rode on. In passing, I glanced inside a window where a hearth warmed their dinner. He was welcomed with a table full of food and a family that rushed him. Their muffled laughter from beyond their front door drew me to look away. Gunfire rang in the distance, but not many people ducked for cover. They weren’t afraid to die here, not with the power of Eternal.

“We will have our day,” the bird said with a soft tone. He must have been truly hungry if he was being this kind to me.

“The hells are coming for them,” I vowed, unable to stand how they clung to Eternal like their finest wine. He flew off my shoulder and disappeared out of sight.

We tied our horses to the hitching post near the water trough outside the local saloon, hoping to get a room for the night. Two, if I could be particular. There was enough money, compliments of the man who had tried to cut off my ears a few nights ago once he discovered he’d been fucking a fae. I had warned him prior to keep his hands off my hair, but for some reason, the greedy fuck felt like being passionate, running his hand up the side of my face with fingers brushing against the tip of my ears. His end was met by the grip of my thighs straddling his head as shadows expelled his last breath. Now, examining the nice gold ring he’d left on my pinky finger, I considered it another parting gift.

Beside me was an untied black stallion with a calm and graceful demeanor. I briefly noticed the traveler’s bags with the neck of a guitar sticking out. It struck me as odd anyone would leave something like that lying around.

Just as I was about to go inside, something else grabbed my attention. I felt like I was being watched, but when I turned, I noticed a piece of paper nailed to a post.

“‘WANTED,’” I read aloud. My brows furrowed. “‘For the murder of forty-five harmless civilians and counting at Grand Dusk’s Tavern. Last seen heading west in the company of an old man and a pet blue jay .’” I snickered, ignoring the sharp pain in my right arm as I tore the sign off the post and handed it to Pa. He studied the paper, reading faster than I could with a twitch to his mouth. Somewhere behind that facade was a chuckle dying to escape, but his jaw was set tight; nothing pleasant would come out.

“You have a warrant out for your arrest. Two thousand nara coins to be exact,” he warned, handing it back to me. “There will be more of these, with enough men looking to retire.”

I brushed off what he said as I studied how they’d gotten my eyes just right. “I’ve never had my picture drawn before. The bastard knows how to draw a nice cowboy hat. This one’s cleaner than the real thing.” I folded the paper and slipped it into an inner pocket of my trench coat. For a keepsake. “I wonder if this artist takes commissions.”

“Your life ain’t a game to play with. Stay in my line of sight,” Pa said as a gang of men erupted in drunken laughter. He peered into the windows, getting a sense of what the patrons inside would be like, and then looked over his shoulder.

Giving one final tug on the reins tied to the post, I chuckled. “Whatever you say.”

“I mean it.”

Maybe one day he would be more direct. Tell me he sensed something following us and not just divert it toward these drunken men without any sense of their surroundings.

But realistically, that would never happen. His indirectness was a language only Ma, my sister, myself, and the bird understood.

Striding toward the swinging doors, his shadow gripped my arms.

“Vessa,” he warned again. My eyes shot down to the dark swirls circling my bicep, not his usual stark black he summoned when killing. There was a softness to his shadows, one that matched his eyes, briefly exposing a flash of concern. Bold move, but as I looked around, night had already come, and we were cloaked by the blanket of its stars.

“You shouldn’t worry about me. I can handle myself,” I said, pressing a hand against the corner of the wooden door as I ignored the buzz of energy along my palm from whatever lay beyond it. I turned to him once more with a half smile. The motion released his soft grip. “Besides, I learned from the best.” I smirked.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” is what Pa’s face read, but he tipped his hat. I felt him watch me disappear into the crowd until the doors stopped swaying. Taking a look around, too many sets of eyes looked upon me from behind their decks of cards and the brims of their mugs. The gaggle of voices seized as I walked straight into the den of hungry wolves.

“Keep to the shadows and low-lit taverns. There, your fate awaits.”