Chapter 13
Tarnished Wraith
Fynn
I listen to Jodelle’s breathing as she sleeps on my chest, while I gaze at the worn ceiling.
The wooden beams reveal their age, and the paint is peeling in spots.
She lets out a quiet groan, then turns away, her head no longer touching me, and the cold that appears sends a chill down my spine.
I keep replaying the scene where I see my mother in Faas’s clutches, her willingness to be in the presence of that half-breed.
How I cowered for her sternness, the power she still holds over me as my mother.
I shake my head. It’s a universal silent dominion that all mothers possess.
One glare, one word, and children abide by their will, including me.
She has always tried her best to keep my sister and me safe from all the horrors that persist.
It didn’t sit right with me, though, even if Faas has taught me more about this world than anyone else; that doesn’t mean I trust him.
Especially since his sharing of information seems to be more in his own interest than mine, aimed at gaining my acceptance and a mutual understanding.
I do seek him out, sensing he needs me, but I’m not sure what it is he wants from me.
However, my presence fuels his desire to talk to me, to reveal the known secrets of these creatures I share my space with, vaulted knowledge I never had access to before.
As watery sunrays emit through the slightly parted linen curtains, casting a soft glow across the room, I get out of bed. I make sure not to disturb Jodelle, who’s still fast asleep. The pen glides over the piece of paper, shaping my words, a short note, letting her know I’ll be back later today.
Downstairs, there’s still no sign of Caria.
I take a deep breath to contain my irritation and to avoid setting the entire place ablaze.
I feel the judging stare from the pretty witch behind the counter, following my every move.
With gritted teeth, I storm out of the establishment, startling some of the customers who sit inside.
I’m sure some heat radiates off me, but it’s not enough to truly harm them; it’s just a result of my inner turmoil, which I’m losing control of.
The moment I step foot outside, I inhale deeply, fresh air expanding my lungs, and begin to walk.
First, aimlessly through the small maze of alleys, unsure where to go.
Everywhere I appear, creatures flee, and a pang of loneliness seeps into my warped heart full of rot that’s gone astray.
I spin on my heel, knowing there’s only one person, or rather monster, left that entertains my presence and speaks with me.
“We need to talk,” I demand as I enter Faas’s living quarters.
He looks at me with amusement, like I am his favorite chaotic plaything. That mischievous twinkle is always present in his unnatural emerald eyes when he sees me, as if I’m a shiny toy he’s dying to get his hands on.
“We do indeed.”
I arch an eyebrow at that and sit down in one of his comfortable wingback chairs without his asking.
I refuse his offer to pour me a drink; I need a clear mind, not a clouded one obscured by alcohol.
I lean back into the velvet fabric, the softness relaxing me slightly, and wait for him to follow suit.
When the monstrosity sits across from me, I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off before I can even get a word out.
“The Umbra and his bride are a problem,” he says.
I furrow my brow at his statement. This is new to me. Faas is upset. I notice the sorrow that bleeds through the mask he usually wears.
“So are you and my mother,” I counter, challenging him as I’m still undecided on how I feel about it all.
Faas is not impressed, and I slump my shoulders. I hate to admit it, but he’s right; my biggest concern is the damn Umbra. He’s the one who keeps me from fulfilling my harrowing destiny.
“Fine,” I say reluctantly, crossing my arms as I glare at him, irritated. “I thought you had no problems with him. If I remember correctly, you didn't quarrel with him, nor did you plan to.”
“Well, it seems he allowed a quiet rift to develop between us, and I don’t welcome it,” he huffs.
A flicker of curiosity lights within me, and I ask him what caused this sudden shift in thought.
“He and your sister invaded my space yesterday, demanding to know why I was involved with your mother. I do not appreciate unannounced visits, Fynn.”
I glance at the dhampir, unable to blame my sister for wanting to know what’s going on, but I don’t let it show. I ignore the hidden threat toward me. Instead, I shrug.
“What did you expect exactly? A warm welcome into the family? Us calling you dad?” I bite.
“Spare me your kind words, Fynn. When did you start being able to form a proper sentence at the mention of your sister? Aren’t you supposed to be filled with murderous thoughts?”
I clench my fists. My thoughts keep twisting into new shapes.
Ever since I got evicted from that damn magical forest, Harlot has been on my mind constantly, or more specifically, her torn-up corpse.
My bruised fist, which now sports a deep purple hue, and the cuts I suffered are a constant reminder of my failure.
“Don’t worry, Faas, they are there,” I murmur.
He lets out a soft hum, as if he is thinking.
“Caria is no longer at the inn either,” I say hesitantly.
“I didn’t do anything,” he says.
“No… no, this was all on me… I… I almost killed her… Somehow, the Umbra and my sister knew where to find us… They whisked her away… Thankfully…”
I let my head hang after the words escape my lips, unable to look Faas in the eyes. Because part of me is no longer convinced I am relieved she managed to escape my clutches. Part of me wants to slit her throat and bathe in her blood.
“Her shadows, that’s how,” he only says.
“They work together?”
“No, Fynn, or at least, I don’t think so. But her shadows, there must be some tether between hers and the Umbra; he controls all shadows, so I wouldn’t be surprised if that included hers. He probably allows the death witch just to play around until she tries something he doesn’t like.
The involvement with your sister makes him no longer a neutral party. All he cares about is her, and anyone who stands in her way, he will eliminate, no questions asked.”
“Hmm, and your involvement with my mother, let me guess, my sister did not appreciate that?”
His eyes snap to mine, fury swirling in his light, green-colored orbs. He snarls at me, and instinctively, my magical shields activate. I watch with fascination as the hairs on his arm begin to smoke and smolder, like glowing embers, and his face twists from rage into agony.
“Stop it, Fynn, damnit!” he growls.
I blink, and the sizzling of hair stops; the putrid, invasive scent lingers.
“Gross, that stinks,” I say as I waft in the air, trying to get the stench out.
“You little shit,” he murmurs, the blonde hairs on his arms now blackened little stumps.
“So, how about you tell me what you and my mother are doing together?” I tilt my head at him as I speak.
“I wanted to learn about the Aurum she possesses, but I ended up falling for her charms,” he responds dismissively. “She and I are romantically involved.”
I let his words sink in for a moment. Romantically involved.
I feel bile rise in my throat at the mere idea that both females in my family have fallen for darklings.
I swallow it down. I need his help luring out the Umbra so I can finally slaughter my sister.
The image of her blood-smeared corpse makes my heart sing.
“Right, well… As long as she’s happy, I guess…”
“Oh, I make sure she is.” He smirks, and I scrunch my nose at the insinuation.
“Fine, whatever, so what are we going to do about the Umbra?” I sneer.
“We could test my witch theory,” Faas suggests with a wicked smile. “If I’m correct, her shadows will cry out to him in distress. If I’m wrong, well… We’ll figure out the next step."
“That means we need to know where she is, and I have no idea.”
“Leave that to me… And Fynn… Most likely, the Umbra will bring your sister along.”
I know he’s using me, but I can’t help feeling a shiver run down my spine at the thought of finally wrapping my hands around Harlot’s throat, seeing the blood vessels in her eyes pop, and hearing her whimper for mercy. One thing I will not grant her.
I crack my knuckles in anticipation, and the heat that radiates from me makes the large dhampir wince. He gives me a warning glare, and I suppress my glee quietly, bloodthirst coursing through me.
“Have you thought about what you’ll do after you take care of your… business?” Faas inquires.
When I don’t respond, waiting for him to expose his true intentions, he speaks again.
“I want you to join my hunter group, Fynn. You’d be invaluable and could help make a difference. Together, we will burn down cities like Valorya and Sadelaer, destroying these abominations of nature.”
His gaze fills with malicious fervor.
I pause for a moment, thinking about his words before I say: “I’ll consider it. First, I want to take care of Harlot.”
“And the Umbra.”
“Yes, him too,” I confirm.
I leave the compound, and I don’t miss the flicker of hope in some of the men's eyes as they watch me walk away. Thom waves at me, and I give him a quick wave back. I’d never thought much about becoming an actual hunter, even though it intrigued me.
I wanted to join his league of men; however, I see myself leading the group more than following Faas like some pawn he can use in this game of his.
Furthermore, I fail to see how Jodelle will fit into that image, as she will become an obstacle in pursuing that path.
Kill her, and live your life. All she does is restrain you from doing what you truly want.
“What? No,” I mutter.