CHAPTER 2 FAE
FAE
One of the few good things about living on the outskirts of Essex in a little village called Coggeshall is the lack of traffic and lack of CCTV.
I can get from one village to the next in under ten minutes without ever being seen.
Better yet, I can be in London within an hour, so it comes as no surprise to me that The Company set up their foundation here.
Not only do Coggeshall’s roots stretch back over a thousand years, but most locals keep themselves to themselves.
That is why when they hear rumours about witches’ tunnels that run beneath the village, they dismiss it as a quirky side story rather than the deep underbelly of the United Kingdom’s elite.
Many of the properties on the outskirts of the village are owned by The Company and during training we are never allowed to venture too far from the centre… you know, just in case we are called upon to do their dirty work.
I am no stranger to how the system works.
Even though I was never meant to be a part of it, it has always been a part of me.
Most of the meetings take place in my Father’s crypt, so it was standard for me to see men and women coming in and out of my home as a child.
My Father is one of the founders. There are ten in total and it is the highest title to hold in The Company. A privilege, apparently.
I roll my eyes at the thought as I pull up to our local church and quickly jump out of my Mercedes-Benz GLE.
To the public, it is a beautiful slice of history.
To me, the pale, weather-worn stone feels foreboding.
Its walls are thick and solid, the kind that hold centuries of secrets in their seams.
Narrow arched windows scatter across the length of the building as gravestones dot the churchyard.
Some are still upright; some are broken, whilst others lean as though tired of telling the stories of the dead.
Many of the inscriptions are now missing as moss creeps over the stone.
It is the sort of place that doesn’t demand attention, but once you notice it, it refuses to be forgotten.
The gravel crunches under my feet as I walk up the path toward the large, imposing wooden doors. For everyone else the church closed hours ago… for us, it has only just opened. As I push the heavy door open, my footsteps echo across the stone floor that stretches forward in pale geometric patterns.
A single dark slab lies set among the tiles, its inscription long since worn away.
Rows of wooden chairs face the altar. During the day, the church looks warm with soft honeyed tones filling the space, but at night that is when the real darkness takes over.
The air feels hushed and poisoned. It is like nothing you should feel in a place of worship.
The timbered ceiling arches high above me, as I continue my walk down the aisle. I pass the altar before taking a sharp left and pull down the large candle holder fixed to the wall. The false panel shifts open and I slip into the narrow space behind it as my breath comes in short, sharp waves.
I pull out my phone and switch on the torch.
A narrow stone stairwell waits below. Its steps are chipped and scarred, as though each descent has taken something from those who dared it.
The walls press close, swallowing the light until the darkness below feels less like a landing and more like a hungry mouth.
I use the rail to steady myself, walking down the thirteen steps and into the tunnel that is thick with darkness and secrets. There are tunnels everywhere down here and I won’t pretend to know where they all lead, but we tried to map them when we first arrived.
Once our group formed, we realised quickly we weren’t safe from the constant pressure from our families and needed somewhere that was just ours.
We all come from founding families apart from Robyn, so the expectations put on us felt like a burden that was too heavy to carry on our own.
Our homes are monitored, our lectures are recorded, hell, I am fairly sure our cars are being tracked.
Roman seems to have the only normal family out of the seven of us…
well, six now. It was him who told us the witches’ tunnels weren’t just rumours.
His dad, who is the church’s father, gave us permission to use them.
We’ve drunk down here, laughed down here and I’m pretty sure Riggs has fucked multiple people down here.
Yet, even with all of that, an eerie darkness always settles over me.
The muted candlelight starts flickering a few feet in front of me as I come to a stop. The tunnel opens into a concrete cave carved into an open sitting area by whoever came before us. Dark concrete has been chipped into benches lining the space and an old iron fire pit dominates the centre.
Roman, Felix and Riggs are all sitting on the concrete benches. Victor and Atlas are currently messing with the fire pit to get it to work but they all stop and look up when they see me enter.
“Fairyyy!” Riggs cheers and I roll my eyes at his nickname.
Riggs jumps off the bench and rugby tackles me to the floor before I even have time to process what he is doing.
I grunt as he twists, forcing me to land on him.
He is a golden retriever in human form. Nothing can get him down for long, he is loyal to a fault and most definitely ruled by food.
His golden hair is shaved at the sides but left long and scruffy at the top, falling into hazel eyes that are far too bright for someone raised in a world like ours.
“RIGGS!” Felix barks, “get off my sister.”
Riggs sighs but doesn’t remove his arms from around my waist. Pulling me closer, he leans down and blows a raspberry on my neck as I squeal and wiggle to get away from him.
For the first time in weeks, I laugh. The sound so foreign I end up freezing.
Shame burns my chest at the thought of being happy without her. How could I be so selfish?
Riggs notices the change immediately and quickly pulls me to my feet.
“Are you okay?” His usual jovial demeanour sours as his voice lowers to a whisper.
Why do people ask you that? Do they actually want to know, or are they just saying it to say, ‘well, they seemed fine to me’?
I cannot exactly admit to him how depressed I have felt over the last three weeks.
How I haven’t brushed my hair or showered properly in days.
Hell, he is lucky I even brushed my teeth this morning.
The words get lodged in my throat as I stare at him, but he seems to get the picture.
Riggs gives my shoulders a quick squeeze before pushing me towards the benches.
Victor and Atlas quickly pull me into a hug before going back to their task. Felix pats the seat next to him and I slide on, leaning into him as I rest my head on his shoulder. He stiffens for a moment before relaxing, wrapping his tattooed arm around me and pressing a kiss to my head.
“I’m sor…” I’m cut off by Felix’s hand on my mouth.
“Sssh. We are all just dealing with shit little sis. If you cannot lash out at your twin what the fuck can you do. I am good. You are good. We are good.”
I nod as his palm still covers my whole mouth. I go to bite him to get it off, but he moves just in time. I look up at him and gift a small smile.
“Tink,” comes Roman’s deep voice to the left of me.
I look up and a shudder runs through me as I stare into his eyes.
I am pretty certain Roman is a sociopath, or a psychopath, I am not sure which one, but there is a killer in him. I mean, semantics, there is a killer in all of us. I just think Roman enjoys his kills more than the rest of us.
I don’t even try to hide the fact I am ogling him like a fat kid in a candy store as I lick my lips and Felix nudges me.
Roman might be a psycho, but he is by far the sexiest man I have ever seen.
At the same height as my brother, they are joint tallest in the group.
I love that even in heels I feel dainty next to him.
It’s his tattoos that make me and Robyn crazy though. We often spent nights talking about what each meant. Her favourite is the deserted church that stretches across his chest. It is marked by a broken cross, with fallen angels which are woven through it in a scene that feels as haunted as he is.
My favourite is the skull that covers most of his hand. Every time Roman gets frustrated, he swipes his left hand down his face, replacing his sharp bone structure with that of his skull tattoo. It shouldn’t do anything for me, but it does.
“They’ve all been so worried about you,” he continues, ignoring my eye-fucking and bringing me back to reality.
“Well, I’m here,” I chirp, looking at all the boys. “I don’t know what changed, but after I saw Felix today, I realised something…”
“What’s that?” Atlas asks, still probing the fire.
“Robyn only has us. When she went missing, she had no family to make missing person posters, no work colleagues to question where she went, no boyfriend to alert the authorities.” I notice Felix tense up as I say it, but I continue.
“We are all she has. And she deserves us to utilise our skill sets to bring her home.”
“What exactly are you suggesting, Fairy?” Riggs asks from the opposite side of the room. “Our hands are kind of tied right now.”
“Are they?” I snap. “Or are you being cowards to the real possibility our families could be a part of the reason why she isn’t sitting in here with us right this second?”
“Fae…” Felix warns next to me.
“No.” I push off him and step in front of the fire pit, starting to pace.
“We have to do something. Anything. Our parents might not even be part of this, which means we’re giving up on her out of loyalty to The Company when The Company might not even deserve it.”
I look between them as my chest tightens.
“Victor, you’re the best tracker we have. Riggs is top of his class for spying. Nobody can beat Roman in weapons and Atlas already runs rings around anyone in The Company for hacking.”
My gaze locks on Felix.
“Don’t you want to use everything in your arsenal to get her back? It’s Robyn.”
I drag in a breath, shaking my head.
“The Company have been acting scared of us for years. Why the fuck do we meet here if they’re not monitoring us more than other recruits?”
I take a step closer to Felix as my my voice drops lower and firmer.
“If we do this right, if we follow your strategy, we don’t just get her back… we can end whoever took her.”
I’m heaving by the time I finish, my eyes flicking between them, daring them to take me seriously.
“She might have just left, Tink,” Roman says quietly, like he’s almost afraid to upset me.
I scoff at that. Of course Roman would think that. He cannot process that people love, feel, and respect other humans. He is one of the most intelligent men I know, yet the dumbest when it comes to human interactions.
“And if that’s the case, it’ll be easy to find her.
When we do, I’ll speak to her in private and ask why she left like this.
” I shake my head. “But she didn’t, Roman.
She wouldn’t. I know she wasn’t looking forward to graduation or the prospect of leaving us behind, but I refuse to believe she just left and didn’t even leave a note. ”
“What are the options?” Victor asks.
“She is either lying in a ditch somewhere or someone has taken her.” Felix’s solemn voice makes Riggs visibly shiver.
“What the fuck was the point in everything we’ve been through if we can’t use it to help our friend?”
“Well, I’m in,” Felix says, giving a firm nod.
The rest of the room falls silent for a moment before a chorus of “I’m in” follows. Roman is the last to speak.
He slowly stands, every movement calculated as he steps towards me. Placing his forefinger beneath my chin, he forces me to arch my neck back.
“You do what your brother plans, as he plans and never go off task Tinkerbell. Run with logic, not emotion. We do not know what we are walking into. It could be dangerous. Do I make myself clear?”
I want to scoff. The inner feminist in me wants to tell him to choke on a cock for dictating what I can and cannot do, but my body clearly does not agree.
Heat pools low in my stomach at the close proximity of this beautiful man.
I hate the reaction I always have to him.
I hate it even more that I can never act on it.
Regardless of the storm brewing inside me, my head nods before my brain can catch up.
“Words, Tink,” he mutters, licking his lips, his voice settling somewhere it shouldn’t, familiar in a way that makes my chest tighten.
“I agree.”
“Good.” He drops my chin and takes a step back, breaking the spell that always seems to happen between us.
The smile Roman gives me sends a chill down my spine. For a split second, doubt creeps in.
Then I remember my best friend is missing.
And there is not a deal in this world I wouldn’t sign to bring my tornado home.