Chapter 12
12
The chill of the rain seeps through my clothes as each twisting lane pulls us farther from the Fade.
Damp tendrils of my hair cling to my neck, matching my mood—chilled and disquieted. Despite the frigid downpour, my cheeks burn at the memory of my impulsive kiss. Fleeting as the flutter of moth wings against Kiaran’s cheek, but his tension ever since is unmistakable.
No banter. No companionable arguing about the best way to murder someone.
Just silence echoing my mortification.
I clear my throat, steeling myself. “You’re quiet.”
Kiaran’s voice remains neutral. “Nothing to say.”
Ouch. I suppose I deserved that, but it smarts all the same.
“Very well, then. We’ll just appreciate the charming ambience of this delightful street.” I gesture at the dilapidated buildings looming over the narrow lane. “Such scenic sights. Look, that tenement is boarded up so nicely. And that crumbling facade over there adds a certain epic squalor, don’t you think?”
Kiaran’s mouth twitches. It’s not quite a smile, but I’ll take it.
“I’ll defer to your expertise,” he says.
Up ahead, the crooked door to a ramshackle pub hangs ajar, warm light spilling from the gap to pool on the wet stones. The scrape of chairs and off-key singing drift out to us on the chill night air, undercut by the heady scents of stale ale and pipe smoke.
I’m about to suggest stopping for a drink when it hits me—as sudden and violent as a physical blow.
Dark power prickles down my spine, raising every fine hair on my body. Icy talons rake across my skin in recollection. The street swims before my eyes, blurred shapes bleeding into shadow. Panic constricts my lungs, leaving me frozen in place. Caught in the hunter’s sights too late.
He’s here.
I can feel the caress of that power signature scraping against my senses, making my scars burn as if fresh. Staining me from the inside out. Marking me as prey.
Around me, the shadows seem to ripple and stretch, formless things detaching from the surrounding dark. The edges of reality soften as the present blurs with memory.
You’ll break so exquisitely.
The taunt drifts out of the past. I’m on Calton Hill again, rain-soaked skirts plastered to my legs.
“ Hold her still. I want her awake for this part. ”
Fingers knotting in my hair, wrenching my head back. The slow drag of a tongue up my pulse, savouring my frantic heartbeat. The visceral horror and agony as a mouth clamps over my throat and fangs pierce deep—
A different hand grips my shoulder hard enough to bruise, jolting me out of the splintered flashback. My skull vibrates with the echo of Arion’s laughter as the memory releases me, leaving me shuddering and sweat-slick.
“ Kameron. ”
Kiaran’s voice slices through the clamour filling my skull.
His gaze bores into mine, searching my face. Reading the thoughts like scars across my skin.
My lips shape his name, but nothing emerges.
Kiaran moves closer. “What is it?” he asks.
I drag a shallow breath into my seizing lungs. “Arion. He’s here.” The words scrape raw up my throat. “I can feel him.”
The one who bit me deepest. Who carved lines of fire into my flesh while I was helpless in the mud. His fangs left scars I trace when the memories keep me from resting.
Kiaran goes very still, rain sliding down the sharp planes of his face. “Where?”
Another ragged inhale that burns like shards of glass. “Close. He’s close.”
A woman’s piercing scream shatters the heavy silence. Our gazes lock for one suspended heartbeat, communicating without words. The next instant, we’re moving in flawless tandem, honed by endless nights of hunting together. My senses are attuned to our surroundings, filtering out the pounding slap of our boots over wet cobblestones. Listening for the telltale sounds of violence ahead. Anticipating another scream splitting the night.
We skid to a halt at the end of the narrow passage. It spits us out into a scene ripped from my most twisted nightmares.
Bodies. At least a dozen abandoned in careless piles, soaking in spreading pools of dark blood. Violently torn throats and glassy, sightless eyes reflect the horror of their final moments. The coppery stench of death hangs heavy in the air, blending with the earthier smells of wet mud and rain.
My heart seizes, breath strangling in my throat. I want to be sick. This staged carnage—the excessive violence and savagery—carries a message carved in lifeless flesh. One meant for me.
I’m coming for you.
A whimper shatters my spiralling panic. I follow the sound down the alley littered with corpses. At the end, four fae crouch over a young woman’s prone form, holding her down. Their heavy bodies block my view, but her feeble struggles grow weaker as they rip into her delicate throat. Drinking their fill.
Rage whites out everything else. The scene blurs before my eyes, the woman’s face replaced by mine. Me powerless and screaming as they rip me apart with hungry mouths. Until I’m hollowed out and choking on blood and bile.
“Wait here. I’ll deal with this.”
Kiaran’s quiet command drags me back. Our eyes meet, his warning me not to argue.
Then he turns away, prowling toward the feeding fae with lethal purpose etched into every line of his tall frame. Watching him render death’s judgement is like witnessing the turning of a lock. No hesitation. He kills the first from behind before the bastard even knows he’s there. A vicious swipe across the throat, then the body topples sideways to crumple in the mud.
Another fae turns with a snarl, but Kiaran rips his head clean off in one savage wrench of power. Dark blood arcs through the air while the headless body pitches into the alley muck. No hesitation. No mercy.
Just ruthless, detached efficiency. Taking out the threats with brutal precision.
One of the fae abandons the feeding circle to slink toward me. Toward the alley’s entrance. His smug little grin slices through my boiling anger. He believes I’m already his.
He’s wrong.
I let the bastard get close. Close enough to see the glow of his skin, the unnatural beauty of his smile. I strike fast. My dagger plunges to the hilt in his chest, right through muscle and bone to pierce his black heart. I twist the blade, drive it deeper, and then yank it out.
Another fae tries scrambling away, but I launch myself at him. Some ancient instinct takes over, honed to a razor’s edge by my mother’s ruthless lessons.
I slit his throat in one clean slice.
He slumps lifelessly into the alley muck without a sound. I stare at the cooling body, watching crimson seep across the grimy cobblestones to mingle with the filth and rainwater. The rage goading me into motion gutters out, leaving me empty. A husk scraped raw on the inside, all softness scooped away until only duty remains.
With detached precision, I clean my bloodied blade on the corpse’s tattered clothing before sheathing it again. The rituals calm my fractured thoughts, restoring discipline to my fraying mind. I recall my mother’s cold, implacable voice curled through my memories like smoke.
Kill quickly, Aileana. Let your hands do what must be done. Show no hesitation, no remorse—only duty.
A scuffing boot snaps my head up. A dozen fae melt from the shadows of the cramped side passages, hemming us in. Their searing gazes fix on me with unconcealed hunger. Cutting off any escape.
Shite.
A thrum of power rolls out from Kiaran. Frost crackles across the blood-slick stones in glittering webs. The shadows writhe, contorting into clawed shapes.
“Walk away. Now.” Kiaran’s voice is commanding. “Or I’ll split you open and string your entrails from the gates of the Fade as a warning.”
The big brute at the front gives Kiaran a mocking look. “You can’t always protect her. One of us is going to tear out her throat. Then that seal will finally shatter open.”
“Tearing out my throat seems a common goal,” I say to Kiaran. “They ought to come up with more creative ideas.”
“They’re not known for their imagination,” Kiaran replies, never taking his eyes off our enemies. To the leader: “Think carefully about whether you want to challenge me tonight. This ends with you in pieces.”
Their leader drags his gaze over me like a blade parting flesh. “She’s just mortal. Destroying one human girl to have our kin freed and our kingdoms back seems like a fair bargain.”
“I see you’ve all made your choice, then.” Kiaran’s soft declaration falls into the silence.
Shadows burst from the ground, eviscerating three of the fae where they stand. Devouring.
Oh good, it looks like Kiaran is done with verbal warnings.
In an instant, the street fractures into violence and chaos. Savage screams rend the air, drowned out by the deadly ring of blades. I lose sight of Kiaran as enemies and shadows surround us. Cursing under my breath, I surrender to instinct, meeting the onslaught as they attack me.
Kiaran cuts down one after another. I catch glimpses of his expression—utterly remorseless, almost bored. Just a leader punishing those defying him.
When a hulking brute muscles past his defences, I seize the chance and drive my blade up under his ribs, relishing his bellow of pain. My triumph is brief. The bastard backhands me hard enough to see stars. Pain bursts hot across my cheek as I crash sideways into a wall, my shoulder and hip flaring with agony. Before the fae can grasp my moment of weakness, one of Kiaran’s knives buries to the hilt in his eye.
“Stay down, Kameron,” Kiaran orders sharply.
I obey without argument for once, still trying to blink away dark spots. Another of his knives whistles over my head, slicing through a fae’s throat. In the next instant, Kiaran is hauling me to my feet, his fingers biting into my arm. But his nearness steadies me, the clean scent of rain and pine filling my senses, blotting out the carnage.
The few fae still standing beat a hasty retreat into the warren of side alleys rather than face Kiaran’s fury. He keeps me in an iron grip, ensuring I can’t continue the fight.
“Let them go,” he says, his shadows retreating into the ground. “We’ll hunt them later.”
I know better than to push when Kiaran uses that particular tone. He surveys the corpses scattered about the muddy lane with clinical detachment, taking a silent inventory of the outcome.
A wet, sucking cough reaches us over the relentless drizzle. One of the bastards still clings to life, dragging his broken body through the filth.
“Not long now, Falconer,” he rasps wetly. “Wait ‘til they find you. They’ll pull you apart in front of him. Peel your skin off and make him watch.”
Ice crystallises down my spine at his words.
Kiaran covers the distance to the dying fae in three long strides and hauls him up. “Where is Arion?” Rage smoulders beneath the ice of his voice. “Tell me where to find him, or I’ll rip open your mind and dig out every scrap myself.”
The fae smiles wider, teeth dripping. “I hope your pet screams for you in the end. Screams and screams until her voice gives out. And you feel every second through that mark—”
He doesn’t get to finish. With a vicious snarl, Kiaran drives his fist straight through the fae’s chest. I look away as he rips out the still-beating heart and crushes it between his fingers. The lifeless body topples back to land with a splash in the filthy lane.
The relentless hiss of rain is the only sound.
When I finally dare to meet his eyes again, his face reveals nothing. The polished mask is back in place, betraying no hint of the brutality just committed.
“I’ll take you home,” he says after a long pause.
Shame curdles in my gut. He saw me unravel earlier, made vulnerable by memory alone. Witnessed my failure firsthand.
“Did you get anything useful from his mind before...” I trail off with a vague gesture at the mangled corpse.
Kiaran’s jaw tightens, the barest crack in his composure. “Lost control,” he admits. A muscle feathers in his cheek. “Apologies.”
Surprise shoots through me at the quietly spoken regret. It’s the closest I’ve ever heard him come to admitting a mistake.
“I don’t sense Arion any longer,” I say. “Do you think he was...” I can’t make myself say the damning word aloud.
Watching.
Kiaran studies my face.
“Yes,” he says finally. “I believe Arion was observing us tonight.” His gaze holds mine, seeing too much. “He has influence over many of the fae. With one living Falconer, they’re growing bolder. Do you want to track him?”
The offer hangs between us, weighted with promise. I open my mouth to accept, but the words stall on my tongue. Holding my breath, I shake my head.
I expect disappointment, but Kiaran only nods. “Home, Kameron.”