Chapter 9

Darkness.

A surrounding, subsuming silence.

Slowly, a point of light grows from a pinprick to a seed, to a bloom. Golden white light. Warm, invigorating. Familiar.

Maeve…

The voice is distant, heavy, worried.

The light congeals into a humanoid shape. It speaks. Maeve! Wake up!

The shape solidifies further, becomes a man—a fae male. I know him.

I?

Who am I? Why am I in this darkness?

Maeve! You have to wake up, Maeve. Right now.

The voice tickles at my brain. I know him. Who is he? Why do I have to wake up? Where am I?

Why?

They"re coming for you, Maeve. They"re close. You need to get up. Now! Wake up!

Who is?

The Elites, and Enforcers. The Council and the Tribunal.

Something niggles at the seed of awareness. Maeve. I"m Maeve. Maeve Sparrow.

My mother was murdered by the Tribunal.

I"m an immortal—half-fae, half-vampire.

I killed sixteen fae Elites.

It all washes over me at once, tripping my brain awake, even as my body remains asleep.

They"re here? how do you know?

A kind of glamour. Like a trip wire in a perimeter around you. I can"t tell how many or who they are, only that they"re within a mile of you right now.

Shit. Okay. Thanks, Andreas.

Are you okay?

Yes. Caspian…It was close, but we"re both okay.

You never cease to amaze me, Maeve. Now, you"d better go. And ditch the Council SUV as soon as you can, I guarantee you it"s tracked.

We will. Thanks, Andreas.

What I"m here for, honey. See you soon.

I focus on my visual memory of the motel room: drab, dirty white walls, cheap pressboard cabinet with a 25-year-old TV, dirty gray industrial carpet, popcorn ceiling, scratchy floral print duvet and thin pillows with matching covers.

I slam into my body all at once, waking up instantly with a shocked gasp as I bolt upright.

I feel them.

Shit. Shitshitshit.

"Caspian. Wake up." I shake him, and his eyes snap open.

"What is it?" He asks, immediately alert.

"We have company. Andreas came to me in the dreamspace." I cast my mind outward, dipping my finger, mentally, into the boiling ocean of power within, using a tiny droplet of the golden-white liquid to power a search for immortals.

I find them. I already felt their presence, but now I can almost see them—-limned in golden-white, moving figures in armor, carrying those weapons, those hastaxi.

How do I know what they"re called? I have vague, shapeless memories of being unconscious, of hearing Caspian talking to Andreas. My mind must have retained more than my conscious mind is aware.

I blink my eyes open and meet Caspian"s. "They"re here. I don"t know how many, but too many, and I can"t assume I"ll be able to do what I did again, even if I wanted to."

I lurch off the bed as I speak and pull on clothes as quickly as possible—from my bag since the clothes I'd been wearing are in shredded tatters. Caspian does the same, and we"re dressed in a matter of seconds.

Caspian looks pale—his eyes are partially blacked out, and his skin is icy-looking, hardening. "I smell them." His voice is thick, deep, dark—vampiric.

I inhale deeply, sniffing the air—something within me twists inward upon itself, almost as if the fae part of me has folded inside out, and left the vampire.

I smell them, now. Salt, heat, sunlight—blood, tangy and thick and rich and effervescent.

"We just fed on each other last night," I say to Caspian, "how are we both acting like we"re unblooded?"

"I don"t know," he growls. "But if we don"t go, I"m going to have a hell of a time controlling my bloodlust."

We"re out the door and at the SUV, but it"s too late.

Black armor glints, reflecting the dim pre-dawn light. Blades gleam.

There"s no demand for cooperation. A hastaxi, the four-bladed spear, pierces the air, slicing toward my belly. I see it moving, not in slow motion, exactly, but…it"s impossible to define. Like he"s moving through sludge, sort of. As if my awareness of time is distorted.

I pivot and step sideways, and the hastaxi"s blades squeal as they pierce the metal door of the SUV.

I act on instinct: pull vitality from the ocean and pour it into my right hand, which I slam into the warrior"s chest. Golden-white light flashes, brief but blinding, followed by a dull, hollow WHUMP. The air shimmers, twists, and then swirls like the water at the bottom of a draining tub—all in an eyeblink.

And then he"s gone.

Nothing left.

No blood, no bones, nothing.

I grab the hastaxI and yank it free from the door, wielding it in both hands, facing the next fae warrior.

I brandish it at him. "I have no problem with you," I say. "I don"t want to hurt you. I don"t want to hurt anyone. I just want to be left alone."

"Orders are orders," he says, voice muffled by his helmet. "Put the hastaxI down and come peacefully."

I hear him breathing. I hear his heartbeat, frantic and too fast. He"s terrified. In fact, I can smell his fear.

It"s delicious. Better than blood, almost. Sweet, with a faint note of honeysuckle.

But his blood. God, his blood. It calls to me. Beckons. I"m hungry. So hungry. Cold—and his blood will warm me.

The hastaxI in my hands grows hot and starts to burn my palms.

"You"re a vampire," he says, voice shaky. "You shouldn"t be able to hold that hastaxi. It should burn you to a crisp."

"I"m not just a vampire," I say, focusing on the roiling heat of the vitality inside me. "I'm also fae. I"m a hybrid. Don"t you know? Didn"t they tell you who you"re trying to capture?"

His hesitation says it all. "That"s—that"s impossible," he stammers. "There"s no such thing."

I glance to the side, beyond him. Four more Elites wait, HastaxI butts planted in the gravel of the dirt parking lot. Caspian faces them, hands clawed—he"s a statue, waiting, exuding threat.

"Look at me," I say, pivoting so they can all see me. I think of blood, let the scent of it fill my nostrils, and feel my fangs lengthen, shivering, shuddering, a slightly painful sensation.

I bare my fangs so they can see them, and then I call up a thread of vitality, let it pool in my palm and visualize a tongue of fire, burning white with gold flickering at the edges, pure fae fire.

I hear gasps. Oaths—mortal curse words as well as what I assume are fae curses, oaths by the Cauldron and the Tree, whatever those are.

"I AM A VAER," I call out, letting vitality make my voice carry, booming louder than nature should allow. "I am the future of our kind."

A bolt of wobbling purple-black shimmers toward me, moving too slowly. I step aside and let it pass by me—it shears through a parked car like a razor blade through flesh, continues after the car is left in half, slicing through a telephone pole, toppling it, dragging wires down with a shower of sparks. Still, it shimmers onward, looking like nothing so much as a blob of Jell-O. Everything it touches, it cuts through without so much as a hint of resistance. It vanishes from sight within a heartbeat, two perhaps.

I turn and face the Elite who fired it at me. I have my own Hastaxi, now. I can feel it—the power lurking in it. I pour vitality into it, through my hands and into the shaft. The weapon hums in my hands, now, shaking with pent-up energy.

"I don"t want to hurt anyone. Just leave me alone. Last warning." I point the tip at the fae who shot at me.

"You can"t use that." I can"t tell which fae said it. "You"re bluffing. A cheap trick. A conjured glamour purchased from a sparkhead fae."

There"s no trick to using the hastaxi. Infuse it with vitality and let it go. What could be simpler?

"Let me go. Please." I let the desperation I feel color my voice. "You saw what I did to your friend. I took out all sixteen of the first group sent to capture me. You can"t stop me. I don"t want to kill anyone else. Please. PLEASE."

I feel their fear. It"s sickly sweet, clogging the air, cloying and too rich.

"Hybrids aren"t possible." A different voice, a different fae.

"Then why are you here? Do you see a child? Do you see a mortal male I"ve forced to mate with me?" I point at Caspian. "Surely you can tell what he is." The sun glints off of Caspian"s skin, more ice and marble now than flesh.

The hastaxI is getting angry. The magic needs somewhere to go. I fight to contain it, but it burns me, wars with my vampire nature, strains the fae in me.

Their blood and their fear smells overpoweringly sweet, mouthwatering. The hastaxI responds, searing my hands so I nearly drop it.

Instead, I release the magic, more by accident than anything else. A black-purple blob belches from the space at the center of the blades, billowing heat, wobbling and shimmering like a black hole swallowing starlight.

The nearest fae warrior has no chance to react—the blob envelops him, soaking into his armor and lighting it up with bright purple light, and then there"s a sizzling and searing noise like meat hitting a hot pan.

The fae screams, a sound of rawest agony, abruptly cut off.

A hastaxI thuds to the ground.

The remaining Elites exchange looks, opaque helmets swiveling. I wonder if they have walkie-talkies or something so they can communicate with each other.

My head swims—hunger pangs bolt through me. My fangs lengthen to needle points, and my vision sharpens, fingers turning to claws. A beam of sunlight pokes through from somewhere, blinding me.

I need blood.

The fae smell so sweet. Honey and sunlight. Champagne.

Fuck, I need blood.

Instinct, primal and ferocious, seizes my body.

One second, I"m ten paces away from three terrified fae warriors, and the next, I"ve crossed the intervening space. My open palms both slam into armored chests, cracking the magically conjured material—the bodies fly several feet, rolling like rag dolls. I hear groaning, so they"re not dead.

Caspian, start the car.

A moment later, I hear an engine roar to life.

The remaining fae in front of me trembles, and I hear his ragged panting. I place my palm on his helmet and channel vitality. Pour it into the helmet and let it spread. There"s a sound like arcing electricity, and then something crackling plastic and bending metal, and then the helmet is gone.

I wish I knew what I was doing—my body knows. My subconscious, perhaps. It"s all just instinct.

He"s sweaty. Handsome, young-looking, even by fae standards, I"d imagine. Blond hair slicked back and dripping sweat, blue eyes darting this way and that. No facial hair, not even stubble.

My claws find the outline of his trachea, dig in until blood wells.

Oh fuck. Mistake. Mistake.

A snarl rips out of me, and the fae in my hand whimpers.

A droplet of blood, bright crimson, trickles down his throat and pools in the triangular hollow at the base.

My tongue flickers out, and before I can stop myself, I taste it on my tongue. Flavor explodes through me. Rich, ripe, bubbly like the finest champagne, sweet and thick and delicate.

Fragments of his life flash through me: summers spent in a field, tangling in tall grass with a lovely young girl…and a handsome young boy, and both together. Hand-to-hand sparring with an older male. Sword fights with real swords with blunted tips and dull edges. A battle, each side sending out a few warriors to test and probe, blood spilling. The tang of magic, glamours ripe in the air.

"Maeve!" Caspian"s voice pierces through the fog of memories not my own. "Not here. Not now. Let"s go!"

My hand shakes as I fight with myself, forcing my hand to free him. He collapses to the ground, sobbing openly.

I crouch beside him. Swipe my thumb over the tip of my fang—clear liquid smears on the pad. I dab it to the small nick on his throat, and it closes up; he moans as the venom works.

"I don"t know who sent you, but you go to them, and you tell them what happened here. Everything, exactly as it happened."

"O-okay. Okay," he stammers.

"Tell them I will not be their pawn. I will not be their lab rat." I hold his terrified gaze. "I do not seek war. I do not seek vengeance for my murdered mother. I should, but it won"t bring her back."

"What do you want?"

"I want to go back to how life was a year ago. Just me and Mom. No fae, no vampires, no Council, no Tribunal. I didn"t want this. I don"t want it even now. I want to be left alone."

"They won"t allow that. They can"t."

"I am change." I run my tongue over my teeth and taste a touch of his blood, and I feel his name. "Laufren. That"s your name, isn"t it?"

He nods, the scent of fear so strong on him that it almost makes me dizzy. "Yes. How did you know?"

"I can taste it," I tell him. "I am change, Laufren. I am the future of our race. Of all immortal kind. We won"t survive if we don't change. Tell them that. Tell them it doesn"t need to be war. But if they bring it, I won"t back down. They kidnapped my mother. They subjected her to repeated rape for months. They created me. They murdered my mother. And now they're after me. I won"t start the war, but I"ll goddamn well finish it. Tell them that, Laufren." I blink. "What the hell kind of name is Laufren, anyway?"

"What?" He"s baffled at the change of subject. "It"s—it"s a family name. I"m the sixteenth of my line named Laufren." He pronounces it LAOW-fren.

"Give them, whoever they are, my message, will you?"

"Y-yes. Yes, I"ll tell them."

His friends, the ones I struck with my hands, writhe on the ground, moaning. I glance down at Laufren as I rise to my feet. "I"m sorry about your friends. I really don"t want to hurt anyone. But I will not allow myself to be captured or those I love to be harmed."

I leave him then, and climb into the SUV—a new one. The moment my butt touches the seat, Caspian guns the accelerator and we bolt away.

Adrenaline sizzles in my veins, quickly ebbing.

Tears well—bloodtears drip down my cheeks. "I never wanted to hurt anyone, Caspian," I whisper. "I don"t even know what I"m doing when I do that stuff."

"You"re defending yourself." Caspian takes my hand and squeezes it. "You"ve done nothing wrong."

"Doesn"t feel that way." I wipe at my eyes, my hand coming away smeared in red. "They won"t stop, Caspian. They"ll never stop. They were so scared of me. They"ll never accept me." I look at him. "I don"t know what I"m doing, Cas. I"m supposed to…be this change for a whole fucking civilization, and I"m…I"m just a nineteen-year-old girl. I haven't lived for five hundred years. I"ve never been to war. I"m no one. I can"t do this. I don"t know how to do this." I shake my head. "I don"t even know where that speech came from, honestly."

"Me either, but it sure was badass," Caspian says with a laugh.

I want to laugh with him because in retrospect, it was pretty badass.

I just…I wish I knew…

Well…a lot of shit.

Instead, I seem to have more questions than answers. Still.