You Bet Your Banshee (8 page)

O–kay. “But why does that make us…you know?” I looked down at the tear in my hand. How did any of this make sense?

“Magic doesn’t make sense, Magda, it just is. I’m the only elf-gancanagh halfling I know of, you’re the only banshee born without the ability to shed tears, maybe those two things together combine to make a power never before seen in Fairworld, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is what we do with it and that we face all obstacles together.”

Together
. The word echoed in my mind as I searched his eyes. I’d never had anyone on my side before. I’d always had to deal with everything alone. The tortures, the tests, even starting a new life had been about me against the world. Ryvan insisted we were meant to be together, to fight together, and to rule together.

My heart ached. This was my greatest desire, staring me right in the face. The need to have someone on my side, a companion, a friend, a champion who would be with me no matter what bubbled through my veins. Ryvan offered everything I’d ever wanted without hesitation.

Gods, I wanted to believe in him, in this strange magic we shared, but centuries of betrayal by my own people held me back. Ryvan’s eyes gazed back at me steadily. I wanted to believe and maybe I would, later.

As though he’d heard me, the light in his eyes dimmed. My heart ached because I knew I was hurting him. He didn’t love me or anything, but he believed in the prophecy and I couldn’t.

“I’m—”

A knock sounded on my bedroom door. “Sorry to break up this love fest or whatever you have going on in there, but I think we’ve been found out,” Sable said through the thin wood.

Ryvan jackknifed out of the bed, pulling his clothes into place. I rolled off the mattress and hit the floor. Reaching under the bed again, the tips of my fingers grazed the edge of the box. I snagged it, tugging it from beneath the bed.

“Get some clothes on,” Ryvan ordered as he went to the door.

I ignored him. Everything I needed was in the case. When it emerged from its hiding place, the breath whooshed out of my lungs. The rosewood box with platinum trim was the only thing I had left of my life in Fairworld.

I pressed my thumb to the latch feeling a prick in the pad of my finger. Blood flowed freely for a moment, absorbing into the metal holding the box closed. It was a Fairworld form of security. We didn’t deal well with combination locks since most Fairworlders were capable of snapping a lock in half. No, to protect the things we owned, we used blood spells. I’d purchased this spell and lockbox the moment I came through the portal.

I breathed a sigh of relief when the lock sprang. The scent of lavender, smoke, leather, and iron wafted to my nose as I opened the lid of the box. My palace uniform, the only thing I’d worn while in Fairworld looked as good as new. The black leather was devoid of all embellishments. I hadn’t earned any honors while in training so I lacked all the pretties other banshees adorned their uniforms with. I pulled it out of the box.

I crawled across the room to my skirt, glad I’d kept the remainder of the Quick-Clean potion. I didn’t want to attempt to drag leather pants over my soaked thighs. The potion didn’t taste any better this time around, but when I finished it, my body was as clean and fresh as it would have been if I’d had time to shower. Eager, I dragged on my uniform. Other than being a little snug in the hips, it fit perfectly.

I removed the false bottom of the box and my heart thrummed with pleasure. The sword was easily five feet long. Perfectly balanced with a plain hilt and a razor-sharp edge, it was the same as the day I’d placed it in the case. I gave a few practice thrusts and swipes, glad when the techniques I’d learned so long ago came back to me.

Breeze leapt onto the bed with a whirring
meow
. He stared at me and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was now traumatized by what he’d witnessed between me and Ryvan. Poor kitty.

Unfortunately there was no time to comfort my pet because the bad guys were coming. For me. I still shuddered to think I was caught in the middle of a power struggle in Fairworld. It didn’t seem real.

I clenched my hands into tight fists, a sharp pain reminding me of the splinter Phineas had left in my palm. I plucked it out surprised to see it was over an inch long. Funny how I hadn’t felt more than a twinge of pain during the erotic torture Ryvan had put me through. Now though, the skin throbbed. My blood coated the splinter which was the same shade Phineas’s skin had been.

My heart hurt at the sacrifice he’d made. For me. Not knowing what to do with the splinter, but knowing I wanted to save it, I tucked it into a pocket along with my tear. He would’ve been so happy to know I’d finally overcome my deformity.

Eyes watering at the thought of the wood elf, I started out of the room, Breeze at my heels. “Let’s blow this joint,” I whispered to my companion and opened the door.

As cool as my words sounded, at least in my head, we didn’t get very far. I’d no sooner stepped into the living room where Ryvan and Sable waited when the front door of my apartment blew open. Bodies poured into the tiny space, all snapping and snarling, fangs fully extended.

I caught a flash of pink eyes. Vampires! What the hell…

But I didn’t have time to think about it. Without thinking, I drew my sword and leapt straight into battle. I’d forgotten what it was like to fight, to listen to instinct instead of fears. Adrenaline spiked my blood, lending me the strength to slice through bodies, to slam through bones to separate heads from shoulders.

I caught flashes of bluish-white magic and gleaming silver and knew Ryvan was using a combination of water magic and weaponry to defeat his opponents. Black wings and spraying blood told me Sable was doing just as well with her knife skills and strength. We totally had this.

Of course, cockiness didn’t belong in battle. I’d learned that decades ago, but while I’d remembered how to fight, I forgot one of the most basic lessons every raw recruit was taught—don’t get cocky.

I’d just hacked my way through three vampires and started using flashy, pretty techniques when a hand gripped my throat. Another hand grabbed my sword arm. A finger pressed a nerve in my wrist effectively weakening my grip. The sword slipped from my lax fingers.

I clawed at the hand gripping my throat because the bastard squeezed. Dots danced in front of my eyes. Fuck, I was going to pass out. I stared into the face of the vampire holding me and felt a spark of recognition. It was Gideon, the vampire from the support group meeting who was afraid of blood.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he whispered, fangs flashing. “Finding you at that meeting was a stroke of luck. Your queen will be pleased.”

My blood froze. This was one of the assassins Ryvan had warned me about. I didn’t get why Melosia would send them after me as well as the Host, but I could only guess she wanted to cover all her bases. What a bitch.

He glanced over my shoulder, his pink eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “I could allow him to take you back, but I want the glory all to myself.”

Who wanted to take me back? Another vampire? The questions begged to be asked, but his grip on my throat made it nearly impossible to breathe, much less speak.

The sound of battle increased around me. I could hear Ryvan roaring my name, but I knew he’d never reach me in time. Gideon had ensured the others would be distracted by coming at us with a force of at least two score vampires. Sable’s curses rang in my ears. Yeah, it was just me and Gideon.

I opened my mouth. I don’t know why. In the back of my mind, I had this great speech planned about freedom and bravery in the face of tyranny. It was all
Braveheart
-esque. My heart stirred at the words I wanted to spew in this bastard’s face.

In reality though, the blood rushed through my ears and the black dots in front of my eyes grew to the size of beach balls. My thoughts slowed as the pressure increased against my jugular. I was passing out. My fingers and toes tingled, my body felt heavy, and my eyelids felt even heavier.

Then a snarling, furry bundle of fury leapt on Gideon’s head. His hand fell away from my throat and arm as he went to detach the fat cat trying to remove his face with dainty little claws. I sagged to my knees, breath whistling in my throat. The tissue felt swollen, damaged. All I wanted to do was lay down and sleep, but Breeze had come to my rescue. Stupid cat.

Gideon screamed, clutching the yowling, twenty-five-pound cat by the scruff of the neck. I saw red. He was going to
throw
my cat away from him? While I wasn’t all that strong, I could take a lot more abuse than Breeze could and this bastard planned to hurt him.

Fury and bloodlust filled me. My right hand unerringly landed on the hilt of my sword. Just as Gideon managed to lift Breeze a few inches off his face, revealing skin ravaged by claws and teeth, I thrust my sword straight through his groin.

If I thought he’d screamed before, it was nothing to the sound he made then. He forgot about Breeze who immediately latched on again, seemingly determined to gnaw Gideon’s face off. The vampire’s hands went to his groin and the sword now adorning it. Hot blood splattered across my face, coating my hands where I gripped the hilt.

I pulled the sword free and Gideon fell to his knees in front of me. He still wore Breeze like a furry mask and his screams had died. I don’t know if it was Breeze’s weight, or the lack of strength in Gideon’s body, but he fell to his side, twitching.

“Breeze,” I called soft, not sure if I wanted to touch my attack cat just yet. I really didn’t want to be the next one to wear a Breeze mask.

My hand actually shook when I reached out to touch him. When I felt his sturdy body quivering, I knew he was frightened. That helped me relax enough to care for him.

A presence beside me made me look up, my free hand still clutching my sword. Ryvan stood next to me, his hands at the ready with a spell. His eyes flickered from blue to brown to blue again as he looked me over.

“Your throat,” he rasped.

“I’m fine.” I was more worried about Breeze. I stroked his back, feeling the tension in his little body as he continued digging into Gideon’s face, his back feet kicking and scratching.

I eased my hand beneath his belly ignoring the vampire’s shredded face. Breeze clung to Gideon until I pulled him completely away. He let out a threatening yowl, making Ryvan tense at my side. No doubt he would make sure Breeze didn’t attack me as well, but I wasn’t worried about that happening.

Breeze’s green eyes were completely dilated, leaving only a thin ring of color behind. Blood covered his muzzle making the fur stiff. His claws dug into the leather of my uniform, but bit by bit, I felt him relax.

I stroked the side of his wide face. “My little hero,” I cooed because he had saved my life. “You’re getting better food.” A rumbling purr was my answer and relief washed over me. He’d be okay.

“As much as I hate to rain on the cat’s parade, we need to get moving before more come,” Sable said from the other side of the room.

I stood with Breeze’s heavy, comforting weight in my arms. “He’s coming with us.” I wasn’t taking no for an answer.

I glared from Sable to Ryvan, but neither looked as though they were willing to fight about it. Ryvan shrugged his big shoulders. “He proved himself.”

“Can we leave now?” Sable asked in an edgy voice. “I managed to get a little information out of one of these bloodsuckers and he said they weren’t the only ones Melosia sent for Magda.”

“And we still have the Host trailing us,” I reminded them with an inward shudder. I kept Breeze tucked against me as I sheathed my sword at my side.

My apartment was trashed. Well, what I could see of it beneath the pile of dead bodies and blood. No way would my landlord let me have my deposit back now.

“What do we do about the bodies?”

“Leave them here,” Sable said coldly. “I’ll open the shades on your windows. The sun should take care of them in about,” she glanced at the huge watch on her wrist, “two hours.”

“What about my neighbors?” I asked, because while humans knew all about Fairworlders living among them, having a bunch of dead vampires would bring me to the attention of the police. And just where was the ogre? He should’ve slaughtered most of the vampires before they reached my door.

Just then a gunshot sounded a few floors down followed by screams and cursing. Ryvan shot me a dark look. I blushed because, yeah, I knew I didn’t live in the best part of the city. “Fair enough,” I muttered. “Well, let’s go.”

Sable frowned. “Which portal should we take? I think we should try City Park. I know a lot of the wood elves and nymphs who hang out there. They’d know if any mercenaries passed through.”

I shook my head. “No, City Park is too popular. There’s another portal at Marsh Island in Lafreniere Park. I think that’d be our best bet since it’s smaller and less populated.” Ryvan and Sable looked at me in surprise. “What? Just because I never planned on going back to Fairworld doesn’t mean I don’t know my way around. That portal should bring us to Slumber Town.”

Slumber Town was a notorious red light district set in the neutral area between the three courts of Fairworld. Those who lived there tended to call it Slum Town because it’s where the dregs of the three courts ended up. If I hadn’t decided to take my chances on the earthly plain, I’d planned to hide there. Of course, my chances of surviving as long as I had would’ve been a lot smaller. It was a rough area to be polite.

“Lafreniere’s in Metairie,” Sable muttered as though offended. “We should stick closer to home.”

“I’m telling you, if Melosia is the one behind these attacks, that’s the first place she’ll look. She knows I don’t like to run and would look for the closest bolt hole I could find.” Again they stared at me. “What? You think I got this chunky by running marathons?”

Sable rolled her eyes. “How are y’all getting there then? I can’t carry both of you and the World’s Fattest Attack Cat, and you can’t exactly take a taxi.”