Daughter of the Fae (The Forgotten Lands #1)

Chapter 1

T he steamy summer air grated against my skin like a moist handshake.

Despite the sun setting hours ago, New Rothwick had yet to cool off.

Unlike the northern lands in Kilderoy, blessed with rolling hills and plenty of rivers that kept the temperatures mild all year long, I lived in the southern part of the continent of Susperia.

The steep cliffs surrounding the city meant very little airflow when the winds shifted away from Stromwall Harbour and flowed out to the sea.

And now I found myself running down an alley, sweat dripping from every part of my body, cursing the world for this god-awful heat wave.

“Sosie, wait up!” Tristan’s voice echoed off the dark brick walls, rats scattering at the sound.

“Be quiet, Tris,” I whispered over my shoulder. “They might hear us.”

Tristan grumbled something I didn’t understand and probably wouldn’t want to hear anyway.

I shouldn’t be so hard on him. After all, he was the one carrying the camera and gear while I only had my little voice recorder and microphone weighing me down.

The streetlight signaling the end of the alley lit up our destination.

I slowed to a walk, allowing Tris to catch up, and smiling when I heard him breathing so heavily.

“You need to work out more,” I teased .

“I hate you sometimes,” he replied, flipping the camera up onto his shoulder and letting out a deep sigh. “Are you sure he’s even going to be here?”

“Vectra is one of my best informants. She said he’s a regular and it’s Tuesday night.” I peeked around the corner of the building. “She’s never lied to me.”

And sure enough, sitting in a flashy, red car that only the city elite could afford, was my target.

Walther Klews—the disgusting human being ripping off hundreds of low-income families on his bullshit housing developments.

I’d been after him for almost a year. Despite my reporting and all the collaborative stories I’d collected from his previous business ventures, Walther Klews had avoided jail.

He paid off judges, bribed officers, and even sent a city counselor’s daughter to a private school all on his own dime. He had too many friends in high places.

It was just too bad he couldn’t keep his pants zipped.

“There he is,” I whispered to Tris. “You ready? Vectra just got in his car.”

“Are you sure this is how you want to play this?” Tris asked, already flipping on the camera and testing the battery.

“Seriously, Tris? You know this is how we have to do it to finally break him.”

Tris frowned, a strange expression for someone with a face like his.

A star athlete at Seaford Capital Academy, Tris probably thought he’d be doing something different with his life had he not torn up his knee senior year.

He was handsome, strong, full of muscles, and had a natural charm that worked on everyone.

So, when he asked if I knew of any job openings at the city’s news station a couple of years ago, I made sure my boss gave him a chance. We’d been a solid team ever since.

“What about his family?” Tris asked.

“What about all of those families he stole from?” I snapped back. “This man is a monster, and it’s about time he admitted it.”

With a shrug, Tris got into position. “Okay, then. How is this going to work? ”

I looked at the steamy windows of Walther’s car. “It’s simple. We’re going to catch him paying for a courtesan and bribe him to confess.”

“It’s your show,” Tris grumbled, which meant that he wasn’t totally on board, but he’d help me anyway.

I didn’t say another word as we snuck down the street and approached the car.

Motioning for Tris to go to the driver’s side, we split up and flanked the vehicle.

From my vantage point, I saw Vectra’s bright red hair bobbing up and down in Walther’s lap.

The severely overweight man had his eyes closed and lips parted in contentment, a sight that almost made me lose my dinner.

Flicking my hand toward Tris, I pointed to Walther and watched the red camera light turn on.

We stalked the illegal activities for several minutes until I finally decided it was time.

I knocked on the window.

Walther threw his eyes open and quickly tried to cover his crotch as Vectra sat up in the passenger seat and wiped her mouth.

With a sultry smile, she waved at me. That was when Walther noticed Tris, and he tried to start the car.

But Vectra had my back…and his keys, which she tossed to me as she stepped out onto the street.

“Here you go, sweetie,” she cooed. At least six feet tall and mostly made of legs, Vectra towered over me.

I’d always wondered why she’d chosen a life working the streets instead of modeling for the Capital’s mass marketing conglomerate.

A beautiful woman with silky, tanned skin, full lips, and perfect cheekbones could probably do anything she wanted.

But she’d once told me that she enjoyed her job, and she liked being her own boss, so who was I to judge?

I passed her a twenty-mark note. “Vectra, you never disappoint.”

“Did you get enough?” she asked, her Gorgian Point accent one of the strongest I’d ever heard.

I glanced at Tris, who nodded. “We did. Thank you.”

“Anytime, love.” She blew a kiss to Tris, who was still recording Walther, and sauntered off down the street and into the darkness. I swear she disappeared into the shadows like a ghost, but then I also wondered if perhaps the heat was starting to kill my brain cells.

Walking around the front of the car, I opened the driver’s door and motioned for Walther to get out.

He didn’t move at first, but when I cleared my throat, he sighed and slowly pushed his large body out of his tiny car.

Wearing a dark green suit that would cost more than my annual salary, he didn’t seem to mind the wrinkled attire or the moisture seeping through the front of his pants.

“What do you want now, Miss Westwood?” he groaned.

This wasn’t the first time the two of us had met.

“I want you to confess.”

He huffed a laugh. “Confess to what?”

Glaring at the disgusting man, I watched the sweat drip from his double chin.

He smelled like fried food and cigars, and the way he breathed in and out sounded like his heart was on its last leg.

“You’re going to confess to embezzlement or we’re going to show your little dick to everyone in New Rothwick. ”

His glistening red face blanched. “That’s extortion.”

“I’m sorry, what? I can’t hear you. Did you say that you admit to stealing money from our fellow citizens?”

Walther stared down at me for several seconds as Tris stood behind me like a bodyguard. Tris was huge with zero body fat, and I had no doubt Walther was weighing his options carefully.

“What do you think your wife would say if she knew about Vectra?” I continued.

“My wife doesn’t give a shit. She just likes my money.”

“Well, what about your kids? Are you ready to make them targets?”

“What do you mean?” Walther snapped.

“I mean it would be easier for them to explain away Daddy’s dishonesty than to have to deal with their friends picking on them because you like to pay for sex.”

“Everyone pays for sex. ”

“Wrong,” I said while crossing my arms. “And paying for sex is illegal. You know I have a lot of connections with the Rothwick Capital Patrol. All it would take is one phone call…”

Walther turned his head to look up and down the street. “They won’t arrest me for slipping up one time.”

“One time?” I asked. Pulling a small notebook out of my back pocket, I started flipping through the pages and counting. “According to Vectra, you’ve been paying her for…wow, Walther. For five years now.”

“She’s a courtesan. No one will believe her over me.”

“I do,” I said coolly. “And you know who else does? Special Investigator Beckett Caldori. In fact, he believes her so much that Vectra’s been recording your little sessions for the past six months so he can build a case against you.”

Walther started to sweat even more, the little beads forming on his forehead like liquid guilt. “That’s entrapment,” he stuttered.

“Perhaps, but Investigator Caldori doesn’t care.

He just likes to put away scumbags who cheat and steal.

And you, Walther,” I pushed my finger against his chest, “you like to cheat and steal. I wonder how you’ll survive in Ascot Prison alongside many of those men you stole from.

You see, they lost everything when you took their life savings and gave them nothing in return.

They had no choice but to steal themselves, just to feed their families.

And believe me when I tell you that I will make sure they know exactly who you are when you step inside your cell.

” I turned enough to focus on Tris. “What do you think? A year?”

We both stared at Walther, assessing and judging. “I give him six months, tops.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “You’re probably right.”

“You two won’t get away with this,” Walther shouted.

“No, Walther. You’re the one who’s finished.”

The man knew we had him, and the minute I saw the look of defeat pass over his face, it took all I had not to shout for joy. One year. One year of intense investigative reporting, and now I finally had him.

“What do you want me to do?” Walther asked, his voice shaking with either anger or fear.

“Tris is going to turn on the camera, and you are going to answer my questions.”

Walther shifted on his feet. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he lifted his chin. “And if I refuse?”

“Then we get Capital Patrol here and let them handle it.”

Kicking at the ground a few times, Walther hesitated. “I did intend on building that apartment complex. Things just got…they got away from me.”

“I don’t care why, Walther. You can tell that to the judge.” I stopped my voice recorder and brushed my fingers through my dark curls, noting how heavy they were with the humidity. Turning to Tris, I asked, “Is there enough light?”

He rolled his eyes and clipped the extra bulb to the top of the camera. Of course, he would have that in his gear bag. Tristan Dressler was the best cameraman at the station.

“Okay, Walther. You’re on in five, four, three…

” Tris flashed his fingers with the last two numbers, and I did my best not to squint when the light flipped on.

“I’m Sosie Westwood, special reporter with Rothwick On Air, here with you tonight to bring you the truth about the failed Gorgian Point apartment complex that left hundreds of families homeless and stripped of their life savings. ”

Walther grumbled a complaint off to my side, but I didn’t let that deter me.

“You may remember the developer, Walther Klews, refused to take responsibility for the empty building currently serving as another abandoned eyesore in a once-thriving neighborhood just a few miles from Cyprius Pier. Well, Walther is here with me today, and he has something he’d like to say. ”

Tris turned the camera on Walther at the same time I shoved the microphone in his face. “Walther, please let the audience know what you just told me. ”

“About what?” he squeaked.

“About how you promised you would pay back every penny to the families who gave you down payments. And you would do this before the end of the month.”

Tris huffed as Walther narrowed his eyes at me. He ground his jaw together and took several breaths before answering. “Yes. I feel terrible about the situation I caused, and I vow to return everyone’s deposit.”

“By the end of the month?”

Walther stopped breathing altogether until I wiggled the voice recorder off to the side. “Yes,” he grumbled. “By the end of the month.”

Facing the camera, I smiled. “We’ll have more with Walther Klews after the break, where he’ll answer all my questions about what happened to the development and how he hopes he can make it right again. For Rothwick On Air, this is Sosie Westwood reporting.”

A n hour later, Tris and I were on our way back to the studio in Eastray Square to edit the piece.

I couldn’t stop smiling and gloating, feeling as though I finally got him.

The man who’d been haunting and evading me for so long had been caught.

My interview with Walther went about as well as could be expected.

He didn’t want to answer my questions about his finances or about the illegal crew he had working on the building.

It was obvious by his clipped responses and ever-reddening face that Walther had no idea how thorough my investigation had been.

I didn’t even need to look at my notes. The facts had etched their way into my brain many months ago.

And now, thanks to the help of a courtesan and modern technology, hundreds of families might find a way to get back on their feet.

“So, that Investigator Beckett Caldori thing,” Tris started, “is that real? Had he been recording Vectra and Walther? ”

“No, Beckett’s with Capital Patrol, but he works in homicide. He could probably care less about what Vectra and Walther do.”

Tris laughed. “I’ve gotta give it to you, Sosie. You’re really good at this stuff.”

I reached across the center console of Rothwick On Air’s only vehicle, a small van that barely fit us and all the camera gear, and squeezed his arm.

“Thanks, but we’re a team. It took both of us.

” Watching the streets blur by in a haze, I thought about how much I loved my job on days like this.

I had a tendency to get fixated on things, and that tied in nicely with the investigative reporting.

Plus, who didn’t like looking out for the little guy?

We were pulling into the station parking lot when my comm phone rang. At nearly ten o’clock, I was surprised to see my mom calling me so late. “Mom?” I asked when I answered.

“Sosie, oh, I thought you might be sleeping.”

My mother’s voice shook as she spoke, and she certainly didn’t try to hide it. “Mom, what’s wrong?” My stomach plummeted at the thought of bad news. “Is Ronson okay?” My younger brother just got his minibike license, and I always worried about him being on the roads.

“No, honey. Ronson is fine. It’s just that…” Her voice trailed off as she covered the microphone with her hand. Through the muffled connection, I could hear the sliding door in the back of her house open and close. A few seconds later, she finished her thought. “It’s your dad, Sosasia.”

“What’s wrong with him?” I asked, ignoring the way my mother refused to use my nickname. When she didn’t answer right away, my stomach dropped. My father and I had a difficult relationship, to say the least, but I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to him.

“He’s…he’s missing.”