Forty, Fabulous and Fae Read online

  “Yes!” I latched onto his words desperately, searching for whatever out I could find. “There is something between us, Hunter. Don’t you want to explore that? If you kill me, you will never get that chance. Isn’t that something you want to know about?”

  I loathed the way I sounded in that moment. Begging did not suit me, and neither did latching onto something as juvenile as a little crush to try and manipulate someone. But if what I had to do to save myself was manipulate Hunter, then I would.

  I could see the thoughts flying through his mind as he attempted to wrestle with his mixed bag of emotions. The silence lasted so long I started to hope he might believe me, to understand where I was coming from, and the two of us could go after the real killer together.

  Hunter chewed on his bottom lip, and I watched as a tear jiggled at the corner of his eye.

  But then, suddenly, he lifted a hand and crooked his finger in the classic motion for “come here.”

  I was about to snort and tell him that only a crazy person would walk over to a dangerous man wielding a knife when my body started to move of its own accord. I slid across the dirty floor, kicking up dust and debris as I went, pulled by some invisible force I couldn’t fight. It was almost like someone had thrown a lasso around my midsection, pinning my arms to my side, and then yanked me to them as fast as they could.

  Hunter had magic.

  His magical lasso brought me right up against the doorframe, where it then slammed my back against the hard wood. A sob escaped my lips, a tangled mess of fear, pain, betrayal, and absolute terror.

  I’d never understood that kind of real, intense terror. The kind that could make a person literally dissolve on the inside.

  Until now. I understood it perfectly.

  Hunter was right in front of me, towering over me like a giant, scary Hulk. He held that shiny dagger right up in front of his eyes as he stared down at me.

  But what I saw in those steely grays wasn’t malice. It was more like… regret mixed with determination.

  He didn’t want to do this.

  “Please,” I sobbed out. The sound was so small it was hardly better than a breath, but it hung in the air between us for a long moment, seeming to echo over and over again.

  That was the sound of my fear.

  “You’re a fae,” he growled.

  It wasn’t an accusation, or even a statement. Rather, it seemed like an excuse. This was Hunter’s way of justifying something he knew was absolutely wrong, something he’d never be able to take back.

  “I’m not who you think I am,” I sobbed. “I swear.”

  Breathing was impossible now. I might just die from oxygen deprivation before Hunter could actually kill me.

  Slowly, he brought the dagger forward, right toward my throat.

  “I’ve enchanted this,” he murmured. “It’s one of the only weapons that can kill your kind. It… it shouldn’t hurt too much.”

  I think he thought his words would bring me a small semblance of comfort, but all they did was terrify me even more.

  “Hunter, the real killer is still out there.” My rambling had become desperate, unstable, in my terror. I really thought he could do it.

  Hunter was about to kill me. And, as he raised the dagger and brought it even closer to my heart, where he, no doubt, planned to plunge it, I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t move a single muscle. Whatever force had brought me to him kept me there, frozen, with no way to defend myself.

  So, to hide my tears and try to die with a little bit of dignity, I closed my eyes and waited for the cold, sharp sting of death to strike me right in the heart.

  16

  The backs of my eyelids were as black as night, and I tried to concentrate on my breathing as I waited, to block out the noise of Hunter’s half choked gasps, and what I was sure would be the squelching sound of my flesh and blood when he finally stabbed me.

  But that stab never came. I waited, and waited, and finally I thought I might have just missed it, that I’d already died and gone to heaven, or wherever fae go when they’re gone.

  So, very slowly, I opened my right eye and peeked out at the world.

  Hunter was no longer in front of me, but I was still in that dilapidated old cabin. I gasped in both shock and relief, and quickly stumbled backward, back into the semi-safe haven of the living room.

  I could move again. That was a good sign.

  Quickly, I whipped around until I spotted Hunter against the wall on the other side of the hallway that led into the living room. His hands were on his knees and the dagger was on the floor in front of him as he stared up at me, shaking his head vehemently.

  “I couldn’t do it.” The words were more for him than they were for me. He sounded shocked at himself, shocked that he couldn’t complete the task he’d been given by this council of his.

  A cold stab of anger shot through my heart as I wondered how many times he’d gone through with something like this before. His entire reaction, all this surprise in his face, made me think that this wasn’t the first time he’d been sent to kill someone.

  But this sure as hell seemed like the first time he hadn’t been able to do it.

  “Thank you,” I breathed. “Thank you for believing me.”

  “I don’t,” he replied quickly, shaking his head hard and fast. “I don’t.”

  It sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than he wanted to convince me. His expression was hard, but his eyes were soft and full of an uncharacteristic amount of emotion. I could see everything flash through them, all of the worries and wonders, as he tried to figure out just why I was the one he wasn’t able to kill.

  As much as I liked the fact that I was still very much alive, I kind of had to wonder the same thing.

  Why hadn’t he been able to kill me?

  The silence between us was interrupted when my cell phone rang, blaring that horrible ringtone over and over again. Hunter’s head snapped up, and both of us froze. Slowly, he shook his head.

  “Do not answer that,” he growled. “I don’t want you telling any of your fae friends where you are.”

  I was too scared to disobey him right then. After all, he still held that dagger, and he had all that witchy magic that could pull me to him at any moment.

  And God only knew what else he could do.

  The ringing stopped, and dead silence fell over us once again.

  But then it started up second time.

  Hunter tilted his head menacingly, a silent order for me not to retrieve my phone, but I had to. The only people who really ever called me on it were Mom, Grams, and Auntie Deedee, and none of them ever called twice.

  This was probably an emergency. A magical killer kind of emergency.

  “I have to,” I told Hunter.

  In a flash, my phone was out of my pocket and I slid my thumb across the screen to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Shannon!” My mother’s voice was a frantic, hoarse whisper. “Where are you right now?”

  “Uh…” I hedged, trying to figure out how to tell her without alerting Hunter. The last thing I needed was for him to kill them, too, just in case.

  Or worse. Kill me and leave my body for them to find.

  “I’m out for a walk in the woods,” I finally continued, keeping my voice as casual as possible.

  “Oh, thank God,” Mom murmured. “I need you to stay out there, okay? Whatever you do, do not come home.”

  My heart started to hammer in my chest at her tone, and fear wrapped its icy fingers around my spine. This was a totally different kind of fear than what I’d felt earlier, though. My own death, I could handle. The terrifying anticipation, the pain, the horror, whatever it was, I knew I could handle it.

  But the death of my loved ones? I didn’t know a person in the world who could handle that kind of horror.

  “Mom, what’s going on?” I demanded, my voice rising to high pitched levels that would embarrass even a little girl.

  The
re was no answer for a moment, and I worried that the phone call had been cut off. Or worse.

  But then, I heard a crash in the background, loud and heavy, like someone plunking down a giant set of bricks.

  “That should keep him out, Elle, but we need a plan.” Grams’ whisper was hurried and terrified.

  “Keep him out?” I screeched. “Keep who out?”

  My eyes shot to Hunter, pleading with him to believe me, to help me. I didn’t need my mom to answer for me to know who “he” was.

  The fae killer had found them. My family was his next target.

  “Never mind that,” Mom insisted. “I have to go. Shannon, promise me you won’t come home.”

  “No, Mom, I’m coming back!” I cried, shuddering in terror.

  “Shannon, you--Oh my God!” My mother’s shriek was filled with fear, and sent terror shuddering through me even more intensely. I was crying now, snotty, heavy, panting sobs that wailed out of me like a banshee cry. I was hardly even aware of the sounds that left my body, because my mind was on the killer. Over and over, I just kept seeing that image of Muriel tied to her bed.

  Only this time, her young, slim body was replaced with my mom. And then with Grams.

  And finally, with me.

  “Mom, what’s going on?” I demanded. “Talk to me!”

  But it was too late. The line went completely dead, and something sinister within told me that my mother hadn’t hung up the phone.

  “No!” I cried, trying to get the call back. I tapped my mother’s phone number frantically, but each time the call started, it ended abruptly, like my cell couldn’t get enough service to send the call through.

  I looked up at Hunter, who had moved to stand just outside the door of the living room, safely on the other side of the line of pure white salt.

  “Please,” I begged him. “My family’s in trouble. The real killer’s still out there, and he’s going after my mom and my Grams. They’re witches. They’re part of the coven. If he kills them, I’ll…”

  I couldn’t even finish the thought. Being without them would be far more than I could possibly bear. The world would cave in around me, burying me in a pile of dirt and ashen rubble, until it eventually crushed me completely. I’d wither away and decay without my family.

  Hunter was torn. I could see it in his expression. He wanted to believe me. Deep down, he fought for the good guys. I think. At the very least, it didn’t seem like he wanted innocent people to die.

  And yet, he still didn’t believe me. He’d clearly made up his mind about who, and what, I was before he’d called me here. The mere fact that he hadn’t been able to kill me didn’t mean the he was on the same side as me.

  “There are no sides in this anymore, Hunter,” I hissed. “This isn’t about what you think of me, no matter how wrong you are. People will die if you waste your time in here, killing me. And not just my family, either. The killer is still out there, on the loose, and you and I both know it will keep going until it gets what it wants. Until it kills thirteen witches.”

  “I won’t let that happen,” he growled instantly.

  “So you’ll let it kill two more in the meantime?” I cried. My feet moved of their own accord, and before I knew it, I was right in front of him again, separated only by the chilly air and the line of salt at our feet. I stared right into his gray eyes, unblinking, praying that he’d find the truth.

  “Look at me, Hunter,” I murmured. “Do you think I’m lying?”

  He opened his mouth to answer on instinct, to give me the response he thought I deserved. But something stopped him when he actually looked into my eyes. He froze, his mouth half open, and tilted his head to look me over.

  “I don’t know,” he finally sighed. “You fae are tricksters, evil, vile beings. I don’t know if this is just a game.”

  “Hunter, I didn’t even know I was part fae until I was sitting in your apartment asking you about visions and psychic abilities,” I snapped.

  I was losing patience with him. I wanted to remain calm, to be soothing, like a hiker is to a wild, unpredictable animal. I didn’t want to set him off and make him do something rash.

  But my family’s lives were on the line. That would make anyone drop all rationality for a while.

  Hunter screwed up his face, trying to figure out where he stood on this apparent issue.

  God. He was trying to figure out where he stood on killing me and sacrificing my family. I almost couldn’t believe I was still standing on my own two feet at that point.

  “I’m a hunter,” he repeated to himself. “This is what I do. Kill fae. Make sure they can’t hurt us anymore.”

  “Hunter, have you ever actually spoken to a fae?” I asked softly. “Or do you just kill them before they have a chance to persuade you in the other direction?”

  It was a fair question. I could already tell that Hunter’s belief system had begun to crumble, and I was the catalyst for it. I had thrown off his entire idea of what a fae was, and what a fae was supposed to be.

  I just prayed it was enough. Because I was running out of time. More importantly, my family was running out of time.

  “No,” Hunter growled. “I had to make sure you were really the one. I had to get to know you.”

  “Because you doubted yourself,” I whispered. “Hunter, your doubts were right. I’m not the one. He’s still out there, and he’s going to kill my family if you don’t help me do something about it.”

  I didn’t think he’d believe me. In fact, I was almost certain that those were going to be my last words. But then, like a cloud parting on a rainy, dreary day to finally reveal a few golden rays of sun, something passed over his face, and he nodded.

  “Fine,” he murmured, his face less than an inch away from mine. “But if I find out you’re lying, I swear to God Shannon, I’ll make you regret it.”

  His tone could have frozen lava.

  “Okay,” I nodded. “Just let me save my family.”

  And then, finally, Hunter toed the line of salt that kept up the spell to imprison me, and I was free from that living room.

  I only had one thing on my mind, though: save my family.

  17

  Hunter had the knife at my back the entire way out of the cabin. The shiny silver dagger was a cold reminder of his killer instincts, and how very easily he could extinguish the flame of my life, just like that. One hard, smooth jab, and it was all over for me.

  I managed to keep the panic at bay, though. The only outward signs I was even a little bit scared were the heavy puffs of breath that escaped my lips every time I exhaled.

  “I have to get my keys from my pocket,” I told him calmly when we got to the Mustang.

  “Slowly,” he barked.

  I kept my movements small and even, pulling the keys out and opening the door with as much caution as a blind person would. Hunter climbed in first, over the driver’s seat and into the passenger side, and then held the knife aloft while I got in.

  “Drive,” he ordered, pressing the knife into my side, now.

  “Okay,” I said evenly. “But I’m going to need you to lower that a bit. If we get pulled over because you’ve got a knife in plain view of the cops, my mom and Grams are as good as dead.”

  He knew I was right. Even if he used magic or trickery to get us out of a sticky situation with the cops, we didn’t have any time at all to spare.

  “Fine,” he growled. “But if I sense you using any magic, this thing stays at your throat the entire car ride.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that,” I informed him. “I don’t know the first thing about using my powers.”

  I sped back down the dirt road at a high velocity. The car bumped along the rocks and gravel in the road, sending us up and down in our seats. I was sure the bottom would be all torn up by the time we were done, but I didn’t care. If the worst thing that happened today was a lecture from my mom about ruining her precious Mustang, I’d take it with a smile.

  The c
ar trip back home was far too long, even as I completely ignored the speed limit and ran just about every red light in the whole of Portland. Cars honked and pedestrians yelled, but I didn’t give a crap.

  Hunter did, it seemed. He spent the entirety or the car ride with his non-dagger wielding hand gripping onto the little support bar so hard his knuckled turned completely white.

  “Car sick?” I asked jokingly.

  “Not in the least,” he shook his head, even though he kind of looked like he was about to puke.

  About ten minutes after I’d received that frantic phone call from my mother, I pulled up outside our tiny little house. It was backlit by the setting sun, since it was now early evening, and I could see that every single light in the house was off. It looked completely dark and abandoned.

  “Oh, no” I breathed, as a newfound sort of terror crawled through my bones. Were they already dead? Was I too late? Had Hunter forced me to waste precious time because he refused to believe me.

  I didn’t even wait for his say so before I leapt out of the car. If he decided to kill me for it, so be it. He crawled out after me quickly, lowering the dagger just a little bit as he stared at the expression on my face.

  I was about to rush into the house, with absolutely no guns blazing because I stupidly had no weapons or way to fight this killer, when Hunter wrapped a hand around my upper bicep and yanked me back.

  “What are you doing?” I hissed.

  He didn’t answer, instead pulling me roughly to crouch down behind the Mustang, out of sight of the house. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I struggled to get free from his grip, but he wouldn’t let me go. His eyes were focused on the house and, finally, he had lowered the dagger.

  “Shhh,” he murmured.

  “Hunter, let me go and let me get into that house right this—”

  He slapped a rough, warm hand over my mouth and successfully muffled my angry words. I was about to bite his palm, hard, when he shifted his eyes from me to my house, pointing with his chin.

  Slowly, I turned my head to see what he was looking at.