Chapter Six

Farren

T he carriage suddenly speeds up, and the horses start to neigh in distress and anger. Something is out there that they don’t like, I can feel them begin to take off, and then we hit the ground with a bang.

“What the fuck was that?” Loki asks as we come to a halt, his eyes flashing red as he lifts his nose and sniffs the air.

“We’ve got a problem,” Grey announces.

“No shit Sherlock,” I mutter sarcastically.

Grey gives me a stern look, “Farren, now is not that time.”

“Bite me,” I mutter back, with a smirk as I turn on Kill’s lap and glance out the window and into the dark night.

“Where?” Grey replies, with heated amusement in his tone.

“We can come back to this later,” Loki adds, and I turn to look at him curiously, “I for one am very keen to find out where we are going to bite Farren, but right now we have a situation.”

It’s my turn to become turned the fuck on as I watch Grey’s lips twist into an upside-down smile as both of his eyebrows raise, “We?”

“Oh yeah, Grey, if you’re biting, we’re sharing,” Loki replies, looking at me with so much heat in his gaze that I almost launch myself at him.

“I think I could live with that,” Grey surprisingly replies. I had no idea he thought of me even vaguely like the way that he’s suggesting.

“Guys, as much as this is entertaining, and I’m looking forward to seeing how this plays out with us,” Mayhem starts, his eyes on me, “I think we need to focus on what is happening outside of the carriage right now.”

Fucking hell, I think my brain has short-circuited. All of them, even Zev, are watching me with desire in their eyes as I don’t bother to hide my reaction to what’s going on right now. I don’t think I’ve been this turned on for a while, and when Kill kisses my neck in the spot that he knows drives me fucking wild, I almost throw caution to the wind and strip them right there. However, the sound of one of the horses crying out in pain has me jumping to my feet and heading out of the door of the carriage before anyone can fucking stop me.

“Farren, for fuck sake!” Storm yells after me.

I take in the scene in seconds. The horses are thrashing around in their harnesses, unable to take off thanks to the magic thrown over the carriage like rope, keeping it in place. Drawing my sword, I head for the horse that made the sound of pain, slicing the harnesses free from the others on the way so that they can escape. It’s unsurprising that the poor horse is panicked; it has a fucking Wraith Vamp stuck to its neck. Fortunately for me, the Wraith is so deep in its feeding frenzy that it doesn’t notice me approaching. I call on my air magic and cut off his air supply, making him rip his fangs free from the Fae horse as he grasps at his throat.

Without wasting any time, I swing, my sword slicing through his neck like fucking butter, and his head hits the ground with a thump.

“Loki, can you see if you can help the horse?” I call out and then add, “There’s more. I can feel them.”

“You can feel them?” Grey asks.

“There’s no time to explain now,” I roll my eyes.

Loki heads straight for the horse and starts healing it, and I watch Grey’s eyes widen in interest. Oh, he’s going to have questions about that for sure. Vampires aren’t supposed to be able to heal, but Loki isn’t a typical vampire; he’s so much more, and I know that I don’t even know half of what he is capable of.

There’s no more time for talking as we find ourselves and the carriage surrounded by five wraiths. That doesn’t sound like a lot considering there’s more of us than there is of them, but these five are higher-classed Wraiths meaning they’re strong as fuck.

A sharp smile crosses my face, and I spin my sword in my hand; I love this. It’s a part of me; I fucking love it.

Their attack is coordinated, and as I fight one, our blades clanging against each other, I realise that there’s an intelligence in his eyes that I haven’t noticed in any Wraiths eyes before it makes me curious. That is until he drops the glamour he had; instead of a dark blue, six-foot-tall supe with dark wings and sparking fingertips, he transforms. He’s still dark blue, but he's bigger and taller than he was before; his mouth is now a gaping maw with rows of jagged teeth, and his eyes have become just dark empty pits.

He's a Wraith, but he’s not a supe from the Fae realm or any of the others actually, he’s a supe from the Underworld, and he shouldn’t be here.

“At least two of them are from the Underworld; if you see black fire, do not try to counter it, it’s hellfire!” Grey suddenly calls out in warning just as he ducks, and a stream of said fire blasts right where his head was moments ago.

I’m instantly distracted as the blue supe opens his mouth big enough that he can swallow me whole, and that’s just fucking disturbing. It only gets worse from there when he appears to grow two extra arms, already equipped with swords.

I call my other sword to me and dance around the fucker, trusting that the others are well enough equipped to handle themselves. I spin around him and then dart forward, slicing one of his arms and making him cry out in pain and anger.

To my frustration, though, it doesn’t take him long to grow it back, and because I have no experience with this kind of supe, I figure that cutting its head off might be the best way to ensure that he dies. If in doubt, behead the fucker.

The trouble is he’s fast and skilled, so getting to his head is going to be more difficult than I’d anticipated. Fucking fun though.

I don’t manage to block one of the swords coming for me quickly enough, and as I block the other two moving toward me another one aims for my stomach, and I have to jump backwards in order to avoid being stabbed in the gut, but in doing so I don’t block the fourth sword in time, and I find myself with searing agony shooting through my side. That fucking sword sliced straight through my damn armour. Now I’m fucking pissed. I push away the pain, my magic starting to stir, not my usual magic but the magic that has slowly been building over the last few weeks.

The Wraith charges for me, and I let that magic, that’s mine but I’m not familiar with, fill me. The power it gives me instantly revitalises me and I feel the best I’ve felt in years. Almost like when I first go into the Void, but more somehow. The world slows, and I watch as he comes for me, tilting my head as he moves like he’s stuck in quicksand; it’s intriguing, and I study him more closely as I walk around him. I don’t know what prompted me to do this, but I’m damn glad that I did because on the back of his neck, just peeking out from the collar of his shirt, is a brand of sorts. It looks like it’s been burned into his skin, and fairly recently too. I don’t recognise it, but I make note of it and hope that I can recreate it later for the others and that one of them recognises it, or we can research it in Grey’s extensive library.

Because he’s moving so slowly, I know exactly where I need to strike to cut off his head. As I attempt to move, I briefly wonder if I’m going to be moving as slowly as he is, if maybe this new magic of mine is slowing down time somehow, although that would bring up even more questions because I’m unsure what kind of supernatural has that gift which means I’m at even more of a loss about where this magic is coming from.

I force myself away from my wayward thoughts; there will be plenty of time to worry about my magic later, but right now, I’m just grateful. Taking the opportunity to properly disarm him, since the whole beheading thing might not end the fucker, I use both my swords and disarm him, literally, chuckling as I watch his features slowly turn from shock to pain. It’s kind of disturbing watching him grow his arms back in slow motion though, and since I’m now hungry and bored as fuck I place my swords at his neck and, using a scissoring motion, I slice through it easily. Watching as it slowly falls to the floor, I’m somewhat relieved when both his head and his body go up in the black hellfire that Grey warned us about.

I expected everything to go back to real-time, but as I look around at the others, I see that they’re all still fighting in slow motion. I figure I may as well help them while this lasts. I’m kind of worried that I won't be able to go back to real-time, but I can worry about that after I’ve helped the others. I casually walk over to where Loki and Rival are fighting a particularly big fucker. I’m hoping that the same premise of beheading applies here as well, and I slice the head off, enjoying the looks of surprise and confusion on their faces. I make my way around all of the other Wraiths , realising that I must have only been in this state for a minute or so if that.

Once all the Wraiths are taken care of, I again, hope that I’ll go back to normal, but when I don’t I start to panic slightly. It’s not helped when the guys clearly begin panicking because they can’t find me anywhere.

I can hear what they’re saying, but it’s almost like hearing an echo of the sound with the words slightly drawn out.

“Farren?” Loki asks, an edge of panic entering his tone as he looks around.

“Fuck,” Storm curses harshly.

They all start to double-check the bodies on the floor, and when they don’t find me among them, they all look towards the surrounding woods.

“Maybe one of them took her?” Mayhem asks as he strides ahead and into the tree line.

“That wouldn’t make sense though. Wraiths don’t kidnap; they kill and eat; that’s the extent of their logic. Not only that but who the fuck ended them?”

Killian growls, “No fucking idea.”

“Guy’s I’m right here, and you should really go back to the carriage before more come.” I try to tell them, but other than Reaper sticking his finger in his ear, no one hears me.

“Did you guys hear that?” Reaper asks.

“Hear what?” Zev asks.

“Like a high pitch whine?” he replies.

Kill shakes his head, “Nope, I didn’t hear anything.”

“Are you picking anything up, Kill? Any hint about where she might be?” Grey asks, and my interest is once again peaked. No one told him what Kill could do, and I know I sure as hell didn’t. He always has known more than he should, kind of like Monty.

“I haven’t seen anything,” Kill replies suspiciously and then turns to Zev, “what about you?”

Grey tilts his head curiously, almost as if, for some reason, despite the fact that he knew about Kill’s gift, he doesn’t know about Zev’s. It’s quite interesting seeing them all like this, although I’ve had enough now, and I’m starting to get worried that something is going to find them and start hunting if they aren’t careful. The Wraiths are the least of their worries; there are worse things that hunt in the night.

Zev’s eyes flash white as he calls on his gift, and then he frowns, “I can’t fucking see anything.”

“Wait, your sight is as strong as Killian’s?” Grey asks, seeming confused.

The guys all share a look, and I smile as they tell him the truth, recognising it as the first step in the guys actually trusting Grey.

Zev nods, “My gift is stronger; I’m the next head Seer.”

Grey’s eyes widen, “Okay, that I was not expecting. How are you on their team? How are you at the academy?”

Storm huffs in annoyance, “We can explain all of that later, but at the moment, I’m more concerned about Farren and where the fuck she is.”

Grey frowns, “Fuck, yes. I’m sorry. It’s just rare that things can catch me off guard.” He then adds, “Three of you are connected with her, are you not? Check your bonds; they should tell you at least if she’s safe or not from her emotions.”

“Fuck, why didn’t we think of that!” Loki curses, “And we’ll come back to how you know we’re connected later.”

I watch as Loki, Kill and Storm all seem to concentrate and then, as one, frown, which I don’t understand because I’m trying to project happiness; I’m fucking okay but slightly freaking out, feelings down my bond lines to them. I even try to use my stronger connection with Kill to speak to him, like I usually can, wondering why I didn’t try to before, but I can’t seem to get through.

“I can feel her,” Kill mutters, “but not very well, like it’s muffled, like I’m trying to get a read on the bond line through several layers of gauze.”

“I can’t find her at all,” Storm practically growls.

Loki shakes his head, “Me neither.”

“That’s because her bond is stronger with Killian,” Zev replies, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Well, is she okay?” Mayhem asks, sharing a concerned look with Rival.

“I think so,” Killian replies.

While they discuss shit, standing in the middle of the fucking woods, in the dark while there are things most likely hunting them, I start pacing. This whole conversation has been in slow motion, with the words filtering across this weird divide clearly but slowly, and it’s starting to give me a headache now.

“Alright, I need everything to go back to normal now before I really start to panic,” I mutter out loud.

My fingers spark with my black and purple magic, reacting to my agitation but not helping me out of this predicament. How does this new magic work? When your magic comes in when you are a kid, there’s obviously an adjustment period. Still, it’s relatively easy to work out how the magic works, but with this, I have no idea. Whereas I thought that I must’ve been moving too quickly for the Wraiths or anyone to see, I am now starting to believe that it’s not the case because I’m not fucking moving, and they can’t see me.

A sudden thought occurs to me, the Wraith couldn’t see me, but I could interact with him, so maybe I can interact with the guys. Deciding to test my theory, I poke Killian’s cheek, making him jump and draw his weapon.

“Whoa, what’s wrong, mate?” Loki asks, drawing his own weapon.

“Something poked my cheek,” Kill explains.

“What?” Reaper exclaims, looking at him like he’s lost his mind, which despite the seriousness of the situation, I find it highly amusing, so I poke his cheek as well. “Alright, something just poked me too.”

Loki smirks, “Poked you where?”

Grey chuckles and holds his hand up for Loki to fist bump, which he does and then immediately ends up on the end of one of Reaper’s death glares.

“You two, focus,” Storm snaps and to my shock, even Grey snaps his mouth closed. “You both got poked? Not stabbed or hurt?”

“Clearly not,” Grey answers sarcastically.

While they devolve into another argument, I try to think about how I can make this work for my benefit. They can feel me poke them, which means they should be able to feel something else I do, but what else can I do without them thinking that they’re being messed with by some different kind of creature who wants to play with them before it kills them, which is what they’re currently discussing.

An idea slowly begins to form, but for it to work, it needs to be with one of them that knows me better than any of the others. My eyes land on Kill, and I pray that he realises it’s me before he either uses his magic on me or stabs me with something. I don’t see another way out of this though, I try one last time to use the bond lines to talk to Kill, but I can’t get through.

I could really do with that voice that comes out of fucking nowhere making an appearance and telling me how to fix this, but of course the one time that I actually want it to talk to me, there’s no fucking signs of it. I am also aware that I heard the other side of the conversation with Monty, and I don’t think I was supposed to. None of the others did, and now that I’m thinking about them within the same thought process, I am reasonably sure that the voices are one and the same.

I’m kind of enjoying the thrill of this, which I know I probably shouldn’t be because if I end up stuck like this then that’s more than just a little problem. However, I’m just a little bit fucked up, and this presents me with a challenge I haven’t had for a while. I like figuring things out, the reason why and how and all that. In another life, I think I would’ve been a researcher or an academic, maybe. I love the fight too much though.

Okay, enough stalling, Farren. It’s now or never.

I roll my neck and shake out my arms like I’m one of those sports people that play with balls in the human realm and then run and jump at Kill, who is in the middle of a damn sentence. This better fucking work, or I’m going to be stabbed at least once.