Shadow Hunted: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Shadows of Salem Book 3) Page 4

  The horn was sitting on a chair next to the Morrigan’s desk, and I approached it cautiously, wary of her raven familiar. I had been worried he would be here in the room with her, but there was no sign of him.

  The horn was a beautiful object, roughly the length of my forearm, with ravens etched into the ivory. The tip was capped in gold, and a golden chain hung from the tip, presumably so one could wear the horn.

  I reached for the horn. Just as my fingers closed around it, a raven caw shattered the stillness of the night. Bone-chilling fear iced my veins as the raven burst through one of the windows, and the Morrigan bolted upright in bed.

  “You!” She pointed a finger at me, her face stark white with fury. Those evil eyes widened as she caught sight of the horn in my hand. “How dare you try to steal from me!”

  The Morrigan launched herself off the bed, her taloned fingers grasping for me. I stumbled backward, fear propelling me across the room—too far. My back smashed into the window, and the double-glass panes gave beneath my weight, opening outward into the icy air.

  “No,” the Morrigan screamed as I tumbled out the window. She grabbed for my leg, but her claws only caught the hem of my dress.

  The fabric shredded as gravity took hold, and the wind whistled in my ears as I plummeted toward the ground.

  Chapter 5

  Now, a voice in my head demanded, punching through the fear threatening to overpower me. Locking eyes with the Morrigan, I lifted the stolen horn in the air, screaming the magic words Oscar had taught me for all I was worth.

  Black light exploded from the object. It was the last thing I saw before everything swirled into blackness around me.

  Moments later, my back slammed into a stone floor, and I cried out as pain shot down my head and straight through my spine. The world around me was spinning, colors swirling around me into recognizable shapes… A ceiling, I realized dimly, staring up at the dark stone slab high above me. And there was thick carpet beneath my back that had helped cushion my fall.

  Groaning, I slowly pushed into a sitting position. Surprisingly, I hadn’t broken anything, and I wondered if teleportation had taken away the brunt of the g-force from my fall. Either way, I was thankful the spell had worked—if it hadn’t, I would have been crushed to death on the rocks below.

  After a quick check to make sure I wasn’t injured, I surveyed my surroundings. I seemed to be in a master bedroom, one much more lavish than the tower room I’d left. A massive, four-poster bed with a velvet canopy stood in front of me, draped in black satin. The thick rug beneath my feet was a dark purplish-grey. A tapestry hung over the fireplace to my left, sporting a coat of arms that featured a raven and black wings on either side of the shield. To my right was an armoire. Beyond it, the doors to what I figured was a huge closet were visible.

  I turned to the large, arched window behind me and approached it on unsteady feet. Bracing my hands against the ledge, I gaped up at the enormous harvest moon. It shone so brilliantly in the night sky it could give the sun a run for its money. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen raw, unfiltered moonlight—the moon back on the Morrigan’s island was always shrouded in cloud cover, just as the sun had been.

  I only allowed myself to bask in the moonlight for a moment before surveying the grounds below. There was no one in the gardens, or at the stables, but I spotted a guard stationed at one of the gates. I pursed my lips, wishing I had a weapon to fight with. Since this was one of the Morrigan’s estates, the guards would most likely be fae with magic of their own in addition to the swords at their sides.

  I strode to the wardrobe and flung it open, thinking to find new clothes and hopefully weapons within. My fingers grazed the sleeve of a velvet black dress, and I longed to trade it for my homespun rags. But then I remembered Oscar’s warning about taking any of the Morrigan’s belongings, so I reluctantly closed the closet.

  I tossed the Morrigan’s magic cow horn atop the velvet canopy, where it would hopefully go undiscovered, then slipped from the bedroom into a corridor. Candlelight flickered in the wall sconces, lighting the way, and I wished I had a cloak to cover myself. My heart jumped at the sound of footsteps, and I pressed into a recess, hoping whoever passed by didn’t see me.

  “Cloak me in shadow,” I whispered on a hunch, using the language the housekeeper had spoken. Magic tingled against my skin, and the shadows around me grew thicker, though they did not obscure my view. I held my breath as a maid passed by, but she didn’t even glance in my direction.

  I waited until her footsteps were long gone, then let out a tiny sigh of relief and continued onward. So my hunch had paid off—the language spoken in Faerie was the same language that Maddock used to cast magic spells. A grin tugged at my lips despite the danger—my arsenal of weapons had just gotten a serious boost.

  Since I didn’t know the layout, it took me a little while to figure out how to get downstairs. I avoided the main corridors, and by luck happened upon a servants’ tunnel that led to a narrow staircase opening into the foyer.

  A quick glance told me I’d never be able to get those double doors open without drawing attention, so I turned down a hall instead, keeping to the walls so I could gather the shadows around me and using the silencing spell Oscar had taught me to keep from making any noise.

  It wasn’t too long before I found a window. After easing it open, I shimmied outside and dropped down. The hedges lining the walls broke my fall, and I tried not to hiss as the branches and leaves scratched at my bare arms and legs.

  “You there,” a deep male voice called.

  I froze. Striding toward me was a fae dressed in dark armor and a black cloak, raven feathers crowning his helmet. His hands and face were that same mottled blue of the housekeeper, and I caught a flash of the same small, sharp teeth as he gripped the hilt of his sword.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “I—I’m just a lowly servant,” I stammered, holding my hands up in defense even as I eyed the wall. It was only thirty feet from here, and there was no guard by the entrance. I had a feeling the guard approaching me now had been standing by the door, so if I could just get past him, I was home free.

  “A likely story,” he barked, grabbing me by the hair and dragging me forward.

  I wrapped my fingers around his armored hand as if trying to dislodge his grip, my fingers seeking his skin. As soon as the warmth of his fingers brushed mine, I lashed out with my magic, flinging the rope of power from deep within my core and latching it onto his.

  The guard opened his mouth to scream, but I used his own magic to silence him even as I began pulling it out of his body. The months I’d spent absorbing and using magic had increased my tolerance for it, and I managed to take over half of his before my skin began to glow and sizzle. I severed the tie between us before I overloaded, then stepped to the side as the guard collapsed to the ground.

  “You…bitch…” he croaked, his face like death.

  He tried to fight me off as I relieved him of his cloak and sword, but he could barely move. The biggest challenge was maneuvering him—between his layers of muscle and the armor, the bastard was heavy.

  “Give the Morrigan my regards,” I said, flinging the cloak around my shoulders and tying it at the nape.

  The black fabric rippled out behind me as I made a run for it, the sword clutched in my left hand. I used my magic to open the gate, hitting the entrance at a full-on sprint just as two other guards came running from opposite ends of the castle grounds, shouting for me to stop.

  But it was too late. Drawing on more magic, I pushed power into my legs, pumping them harder and faster until I was practically flying. I laughed, a reckless, giddy sound, as I dashed into the cover of the forest beyond, pushing myself as far and fast as I could manage.

  Freedom beckoned, and I’d be damned if I’d let them take it from me.

  I wasn’t sure how many miles I’d covered by the time I ran out of steam. Over two dozen, at least. Maybe more. I’d ran so far
and fast that the surrounding forest had been a mere blur, the wind and leaves rushing around me as I somehow managed to keep from crashing into any of the trees. I had no doubt I’d be smashed to bits if that happened, but the guards had given chase, and I hadn’t been able to slow down for fear of being captured.

  Luckily, I’d had a head start, and I was super-charged with the magic from the guards. Although I’d lost them some twenty minutes ago, I kept pushing on anyway. I wanted to put as much distance between myself and the Morrigan’s lands as possible.

  But as I finally slowed to a trot, then a stumbling walk, I began to wish I’d conserved some of my strength. My legs were wobbly, my lungs burning, and I was lightheaded from hunger and exhaustion. The distance I’d traveled could only be attributed to the magic I’d absorbed, but that magic was nearly gone, and as the adrenaline wore off, my bare feet throbbed from the cuts and bruises I’d sustained running across the forest floor.

  Panting hard, I weaved my way off the beaten path. I didn’t want to rest anywhere the guards might catch up with me. But the exhaustion was so intense I only made it a few miles into my winding hike before I knew I just couldn’t go any further. The sword in my hand was so heavy. I considered tossing it away just so I wouldn’t have to deal with the weight.

  But it was the only weapon I had right now, even if I didn’t really know how to use it very well. And there was no way I was throwing it away.

  “Wish I could hunt with this thing,” I muttered as I eyed some furry creature scampering through the bushes. I could try throwing it like a spear, but that probably wouldn’t work out. And now I’d used up my magic, there was no way I was going to be able to catch anything if I chased it.

  God, why was I so stupid?

  It’s fine, I told myself as I slumped down between the exposed roots of a gigantic tree. You can recharge.

  I could feel the magic in the air around here, lying deep in the earth below me, in the bark of the tree behind me, and in the leaves dangling from the branches overhead. The trees here were like nothing I’d ever seen before—the bark was multi-hued, gold, brown, and a strange bluish-green. The leaves that grew from the branches had strange, swirling patterns on them. As I stared up at them, I noticed tiny little eyes staring back, glowing from the branches above. Not all the stares were benevolent, and I drew my cloak a little tighter around me, clutching my stolen sword to my chest. What sort of creatures lurked in these woods? Would I be able to sleep, or would something try to eat me the moment I closed my eyes?

  I mustered the energy to stand, then gathered some dried twigs and bark, using my magic to start a small fire. The warmth was a pleasant change from the bitter night air, but it was really the animals I was trying to keep at bay. My stomach grumbled fiercely, and I wished I’d filched some food from the Morrigan’s kitchens before bolting. After all, would she really notice a missing crust of bread or a wedge of cheese?

  Despite my resolve to stay awake, the crackling fire lulled me into a groggy trance. The Morrigan’s housekeeper had always kept me on the edge of starvation and exhaustion, likely so I wouldn’t have the energy to cause trouble with my magic. And I’d just pushed myself to the breaking point with my escape. My eyes felt like someone had placed tiny anvils on them, and my mind was so foggy I barely had the strength to worry about what might come and find me.

  But my sense of self-preservation hadn’t deserted me completely, because the moment I heard a twig snap beneath the weight of someone’s boot, I bolted upright. Heart pounding, I kicked leaves and dirt over the fire to smother it, which was difficult since the ground was cold and hard, then ducked behind my tree and gathered the shadows around me.

  A group of fae males came around the bend in the path, dressed in furs, with long, dark hair and yellow eyes that were completely inhuman. Swords and knives were strapped to their bodies, shields to their backs, and their faces were hard and unyielding.

  “Come out, female,” the leader, whose hair sported colorful beads, called. His nostrils flared as he sniffed, and a chill went down my spine. “You may be cloaking yourself, but we can still scent you just fine.”

  I stiffened at that. Could he really smell me or was it just a bluff?

  Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I shrieked. My cloak whipped out as I whirled around, drawing my sword as I did so. The man who’d tapped me on the shoulder laughed, jumping out of the way with inhuman speed before I could gut him.

  “You’re fast,” he commented with a grin, looking me up and down. “But not fast enough. Where did a slight thing like you get a sword like that?”

  “Enough, Darun,” the leader growled, stepping in front of him. He glowered down at me, at least a foot and a half taller than I was, and I tightened my grip on my sword. “Who are you, and why are you trespassing on our lands?”

  I swallowed. “I didn’t know I was trespassing,” I told him as I forced myself to hold that yellow gaze. “I’m just a little lost.”

  His nostrils flared as he sniffed again. “A half-breed,” he said gruffly, eyeing me as the other warrior had. “Where did you come from, and where are you going?”

  “I’m the Winter King’s daughter,” I said proudly, throwing back my shoulders and lifting my chin as if I were dressed in riches instead of rags. “I’m trying to get to his demesne, but it has been a long time since I have been to Faerie, and I’m having trouble determining his location. I could use some help,” I added with a winsome smile. If they weren’t enemies of my father, maybe I could win them over. Otherwise, I was dead—no way could I fight off six burly fae males on my own.

  God, where the hell was Oscar?

  “Well, that explains why she smells of ice and snow,” one of the other warriors said, and the others murmured in agreement.

  “Silence,” the leader said sternly. He studied me for another moment. “We will take you to our clan chieftain, and he will determine your fate.”

  Anxiety tightened around my chest as the men closed ranks around me, sealing off any avenues of escape. It took a momentous effort for me to sheath my sword and follow them, but I had no other choice if I wanted to live. I would go meet with their chieftain. Hopefully, I’d be able to talk my way out of this new mess.

  I did my best to keep up with the long-legged strides of my captors, but my aching legs did not want to be pushed. Stumbling over a root, I crashed to my knees as one of the cuts on my feet split open.

  The rest of the party came to a halt, nostrils flaring, and a chill went down my spine as I realized they were scenting my blood. My heart leapt into my throat at the hungry gleams in the eyes of a few of them, and I scrambled back.

  “Oh, for Danu’s sake,” the leader growled, striding forward. He crouched down and grabbed me by the leg. I tried to kick him with my other foot, but he caught the blow with his free hand as if it were nothing. “Stop fighting, woman. I’m trying to help you.”

  “Most women don’t find manhandling to be very helpful,” I snapped, but the rest of my sharp-tongued retort fell away as the hand around my foot began to glow.

  Magic flowed through skin, muscle, and bone, healing the cuts and bruises and strengthening my legs. My instincts roared at the influx of magic, wanting to take hold and suck in more, all of it, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from draining him dry.

  “Th—” I caught myself before I thanked him as he rose to his feet, not sure what to make of the unexpected kindness. “I appreciate your help,” I said instead.

  “Put this on,” he said shortly, tossing his fur cloak at me before turning away. “And don’t slow us down again.”

  Thanks to Beaded Warrior Man, I managed to make the forty-five-minute trek through the forest relatively pain free, despite my lack of footwear. The fur cloak was ten times warmer than the one I’d stolen from that guard, and though the pace we struck was swift, I had a feeling the warriors could go a lot faster, but were deliberately slowing down for me.

  Eventually, the forest thinned out, and
we arrived in a village with quaint, old-fashioned wooden houses and buildings. The village was dead silent, since it was still the middle of the night, and rather than take me to the clan chieftain, the leader brought me to a small, empty house in the heart of the village and posted one of the men to stand guard outside it. The chieftain would see me tomorrow, I was told. For now, I was to get some rest and not cause any trouble.

  Moonlight spilled in through the single window, allowing me enough light to get my bearings. The interior of the house was small, but homey. It was essentially a one-room dwelling with a walled-off bathing room. There was a wood-burning stove in the center of the space, a table and chairs in one section, and a twin bed with several blankets and a pillow. I put one of the logs piled on the floor inside the stove, along with some kindling, and used my magic to light it. Within moments, a fire was crackling merrily, and the icy space began to heat up.

  As I settled beneath the covers of the bed, I couldn’t help but wonder about the nature of my captors…and the Unseelie in general. Maddock had always spoke of the Unseelie with disdain, and my experience with the Morrigan had only reinforced that idea. But even though these fae men were my captors, they had not been cruel, and my gut told me they weren’t evil. As a cop, I learned to trust my gut, even if law enforcement did live and die by the evidence. My gut rarely failed me, and I didn’t think I was wrong now.

  Besides, if all Unseelie were inherently evil, shouldn’t I be? Shouldn’t I be struggling with some kind of dark side? Sure, I wasn’t perfect, and I gave into my temper a lot more often than was wise. But I had never found myself battling against any dark, depraved urges. As far as I could tell, I was normal.