Why Are All the Good Guys Total Monsters? (6 page)

‘You look stunning,’ he said, smiling at me, such a
mesmerizing smile. I didn’t know if I had the willpower to tell him I wasn’t
going out with him. And what was he doing here at this time of the day?

‘Ready to go?’ he said.

I was getting nervous. He seemed so pleased to see me.
‘You’re early,’ I said, stalling for time, trying to think what to do.

‘I said I’d pick you up at seven.’

‘Yes, but it’s only...’ I read the time on the clock, and
blinked. It couldn’t be that late.

‘It’s seven,’ he said, smiling and looking totally gorgeous.

I grabbed my phone and checked the time on that. Yes, he was
right. Had I fallen asleep? Had I got lost in dressing up?

‘I’ve decided not to go,’ I forced myself to say.

‘Nonsense,’ he said. ‘You’ll have a great time.’

Sabastien held his hand out to me. I took his hand and
stepped out into the garden. The sky above me was covered in fast moving storm
clouds. Darkness had descended so quickly, and the solar lanterns in the garden
were flickering into life.

‘Let go of his hand and step back from him,’ a voice said
from the shadows. It was Daire. He moved towards us.

‘You would do well to leave now,’ Sabastien warned him.

Daire didn’t falter. His eyes implored me to do as he said.

Sabastien whispered to me. ‘There’s going to be trouble.’ He
let go of my hand and motioned towards the edge of the garden. ‘Stand back. I
don’t want you to get hurt.’ He looked at me as if he meant it.

I felt the tension in the air.

And then the rage erupted.

The fight was fast and furious.

I should have run into the house, and called for help, but I
felt spellbound to stand there and watch the spectacle. Rain lashed down, and
lightning lit up the sky.

At first they seemed evenly matched, each with their own
strengths and weaknesses. Daire was fast, intense, strong and elegant, someone
who was used to combat, while Sabastien looked almost cruel in his attacks and
exhibited a certain relish when he struck a vital blow. Daire showed no
pleasure from the fight but Sabastien sought to bathe in its glory.

Who did I want to win? The good guy of course. Whoever that
was.

The storm increased, and lightning struck the winning blow,
scattering both of them across the garden. Sabastien struggled to his feet and
ran towards me.

‘Hurry up,’ he said, glancing back at Daire who lay
unconscious on the ground. ‘You have to get away.’

He held out his hand to me. I hesitated.

‘Vesper, come with me now.’

Before I had a chance to think, he lifted me up and flew
into the night sky.

‘Let go of me,’ I shouted, struggling against his
overpowering strength. Sabastien was strong, inhumanly so. And the flying . . .
the flying . . . took my breath away.

The rain poured down, and I blinked against it to see where
he was taking me.

He flew at a terrific speed, through the dark shadows that
led towards a medieval cathedral.

Sabastien had his arm around me, holding me tight while his
wings that glittered like black starlight powered towards the cathedral. His
wings looked ethereal, as if there by thought rather than substance. Gossamer
edges were pointed with purple thorns.

I felt myself grow weak, and then I heard Daire shouting as
he raced after us through the rain soaked street. He really could run like the
wind.

‘Let her go,’ he shouted to Sabastien. ‘Your fight is with
me, not her.’

I sensed Sabastien smile as he landed on the edge of the
rooftop.

I looked at him, glad now that he had such a tight hold of
me for I had no head for heights. In the distance I could see the traffic going
by unaware of the drama unfolding high above them. I hoped that someone,
anyone, would look up and see me.

On a rooftop, I thought I caught a glimpse of a cat watching
us, the silhouette of Midnight, but I blinked and he was gone. I noticed
someone, dressed in darkest blue, merging with the night sky. A shiver darted
through me. That sense again of being hunted.

The rain was falling lighter now, like mist, and the force
of the wind swirling up and around the rooftop whipped my wet hair in all
directions.

Sabastien’s elegant fingers smoothed the wayward strands of
hair from my face. ‘You look so beautiful,’ he said, almost in a whisper, as if
suddenly seeing me for the first time. ‘Such pure green eyes.’

‘Let me go. You don’t have to do this. I won’t tell anyone.
Who would ever believe me anyway? I wish you would just let me go.’

‘You should never have said that,’ Sabastien murmured. ‘In
our world, you have to be careful what you wish for.’

He let go of me, and I fell from the top of the cathedral
unable to grab hold of anything to save myself. The only thing I’d touched was
the edge of Sabastien’s coat, sharp with thorns, and felt it cut my hand. The
wound was burning hot.

I reached out to him, and for a flicker of a second I saw
the regret in his eyes, but I was falling . . . falling from the top of the
medieval cathedral and could not save myself.

I heard Daire’s voice, shouting in horror and then the force
of him hit me seconds before I reached the ground. His grey wings were barely
open, partly torn and ragged. I hoped they were enough to save me, to break my
fall, but he didn’t make it in time. He held me in his arms, but his wings
didn’t have the power to turn and soar away. The look he gave me I’ll remember
forever. As if it was his fault.

Light blazed below us like a shooting star burning through
the darkness.

Then we fell right through the ground.

I looked around. Gnarled trees whose
roots were shrouded in blue and purple mist trailed off into the distance.
Daire lay on the woodland ground beside me, wings folded down his back. He
jumped to his feet and helped me up.

‘What…what happened?’ I stammered. Fallen leaves of bronze
and burnished gold were scattered all around. The air smelled fresh and clear,
of autumn, with the scent of winter drawing near. A sense of snow and winter’s
bite.

‘Sabastien dropped you. You fell from the cathedral.’

‘But where are we? He was flying . . . you were flying.’

‘I warned you about Sabastien but you wouldn’t listen.’

‘What is it he wants?’ My voice was breaking.

‘He needs a mortal with faerie blood in her veins. A piece
of fae land was stolen from us. We need it back.’

I hesitated. ‘Is this for real?’

Daire nodded.

‘But I don’t have any faerie blood in my veins.’

Daire looked down at the wound on my hand. ‘Oh I think you
have, and it’s the blood of a Purple Thorn.’

I thought about the purple thorns on the edges of
Sabastien’s coat.

‘Sabastien is a fae of the Purple Thorn. I am a Grey Dagger
fae.’

The names sounded familiar. Then I remembered. ‘Orlaith
spoke about moths. She mentioned Grey Daggers and Alchymists and Fairy moths.’

‘Orlaith understands about the fae. She believes in faeries.
Unfortunately, her love of flowers led her to buy bluebells, part of a bluebell
wood on the outskirts of the city. She shouldn’t have done that, but to be
fair, she didn’t realise she was buying part of our heritage. And we want it
back.’

‘Orlaith knows about you? She’s seen the faeries that I saw
in the garden?’

Daire shook his head. ‘No, she believes in her own human way
the myths surrounding faeries. The type she paints in her watercolours. Pretty
faeries in mystical woods. They’re very nice, but they’re nothing like the real
fae — fae like Sabastien and me.’

‘Does she know about the land?’

‘No, she planted the bluebells in her garden, but there is
magic in those flowers, and they belong back where they were. No one had any
right to take them. Orlaith didn’t know; she bought the bluebells from the
seller, and they didn’t know the significance of the land either.’

‘Then why can’t you just take them back? She’d think someone
had stolen them. Or if you’re fae, cast some sort of spell and make them
disappear and put them back where they came from.’

‘It’s not that easy. When something is stolen from us, it
has to be given back willingly, without magic, without pressure. Orlaith would
have to gift the land, the bluebells, their roots, to us, and as she doesn’t
know we exist, we had to find another way.’

‘Surely you could tell her what happened. Orlaith would give
the flowers back. I’m sure she would.’

‘We agree, but we believe that Orlaith is the type of human
who would not deal with us revealing ourselves to her quite the same as you
have.’

I frowned.

‘Part of our existence relies on secrets and myths. People
like Orlaith, who believe in the myths, help to keep our true existence safe.
You didn’t believe in faeries. You liked the idea of them, but to meet them, to
see them, to know that they are real, and not quite how you ever thought they’d
be, it takes a certain type of character to deal with that. Orlaith would tell
everyone; she’d paint us, write about us, and even if most people didn’t
believe her, many would. Secrecy keeps us safe. We thought that you were the
type who would keep our secrets.’

‘You talk as if you know about me.’ This worried me.

‘We do. We’ve been watching you, studying your behaviour,
your attitude and loyalty to those close to you. You display great loyalty yet
independence. Strength of character. And you sense the fae. For all that you
disbelieve, you sense the changes in the air, the atmosphere. You love the
feeling of a thunder storm. Your instincts tell you when something isn’t
right.’

I nodded, taking in everything he said.

‘What are your senses telling you, Vesper?’

I hesitated.

‘Don’t hesitate. Just say what you think.’

‘I think I’m being hunted.’

The muscles in Daire’s face tightened. ‘Hunted?’

‘Yes. I don’t know why.’

He didn’t answer. He just stared at me as if my reply wasn’t
what he imagined.

‘I’ve felt hunted since last night when I went to bed. And I
feel it now.’

Daire kicked over the leaves, covering any trace of where
we’d been.

‘Do you think it’s Sabastien? Is that what I’m sensing?’ And
then I looked at Daire. ‘Or is it you?’

He reacted as if I’d slapped his face. ‘I’m not hunting you,
Vesper. Sabastien isn’t hunting you, not as far as I know, but we do want your
help in getting the land back.’

‘You said that Sabastien needs a mortal with faerie blood in
her veins.’

‘Yes, so that the land would belong to the Purple Thorn fae,
but
hunting
isn’t quite the right word for…’

‘Taking me here against my will? That’s what you’ve done.’

‘Sabastien and I have different ways of handling things. I
want to be the one who gets the land back for the Grey Dagger fae. Sabastien
wants it for the Purple Thorns.’

‘So you’re rivals?’

‘Of sorts.’

I heard a sound nearby.

‘We have to hurry,’ said Daire.

I felt unsteady.

‘Where are we exactly?’

‘In my world. The world of fae…and others.’

The wood merged in parts to look like a city, a version of Edinburgh. Far in the distance I could see streets, houses and spires against a thunderous
sky, and snow.

‘Others?’ I said. ‘What others?’

Daire looked around at the trees nearby — rich chestnuts and
hazel. White poplar and blackthorns faded off into the distant wintry snow that
fell on the silhouette of a cityscape. A city of darkness and light. His eyes
were wary, watchful.

He spoke the word in an urgent whisper. ‘
Monsters.
’