Better to play the helpless prey until it was time to kill.
I pleaded with him, allowing all my fear and desperation to leak into my voice—that wasn’t hard—as he pulled me down the steps.
Through the doorway, I caught a glimpse of a long, dank corridor, hollowed out of earth; the scent of rot and blood rose up from it. There was something hanging in the darkness.
I caught a glint of fluorescence off pale skin. A torso, arms dangling, the hands gone. Devoured.
He paused, savoring my terror. “I usually buy my mortals at the market. So kind of your master to save me the effort.”
I bent low and lunged into him, drawing my knife from my boot in one smooth arc that I carried through into his side.
He stumbled back, his eyes wide and terrified. I shoved him down the stairs as I wrenched my blade free. I followed it with another desperate stab, but he grabbed my arm, his fingers sinking bruising into my skin. The knife wasn’t going to be enough.
I pushed him down the steps and turned to run, feeling the moment his hands came free of me as I made a wild bound, like a deer taking flight.
Behind me, he recovered unnervingly fast. I heard the scrape of motion, the thud of feet, and then the unmistakable flutter of wings launching upward. If he took to the air, he’d spot me immediately.
I needed to get under cover. Now.
I sprinted toward the deeper woods—branches clawing, luminescent leaves whipping past—when something lunged out of the trees.
I struck blindly, desperate for even a heartbeat longer of freedom.
I struck out blindly for freedom as arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a hard chest. I fought for my life and was rewarded with a distinctly grouchy, distinctly familiar, “Ow.”
As the bird soared overhead, Fieran came into view, rubbing his jaw as he let me go.
Fear looked amused. “And here I thought you’d never manage to land a punch.”
“We have to get out of here.” My voice shook. The rush of relief that hit me the moment I saw him was almost dizzying—dangerous in its own right—but I couldn’t feel anything exceptthank the gods, he’s here. “That Fae is chasing me.”
Fieran’s head snapped up, sharp as a predator scenting its rival. “Is he?”
Above us, the bird wheeled in a frantic circle, searching for its master. Its wings caught the moonlight like blades.
Fieran reached up and caught it out of the air with one clean motion. The crack of its neck echoed through the garden, and then he flung the limp creature into the thorns. The briars seized the body greedily, pulling it down until it vanished into the undergrowth. A howl of pain—distant, hollow—rippled through the night.
“A caster,” Fieran muttered. “You’d have had a hard time getting away.”
“There was something wrong with him.” My pulse still hadn’t slowed; it felt like it thrashed against my ribs. “Something…rotten.”
“Besides the fact that he was a Fae predator chasing you through a dark garden?” Fieran’s tone was dry, but his golden eyes swept over me like a physical touch, checking, assessing, making sure I was whole.
“Let’s go home, please,” I begged, voice cracking. Another thought fought its way forward, sharp and guilty. “What if he’s hurting mortals? What if there are others?—”
“What if he is?” Fieran countered with a cold lift of his brow. “No one will interfere. Mortals make deals freely. They give up their freedom, their magic, their lives. Their suffering is their chosen price.”
“I want to do something about it.” A sob tore loose before I could choke it back. I hated how small I sounded.
“Cara. Never, darling.” Fieran’s cool façade cracked into a thousand pieces as he pulled me into his arms. The warmth of his body wrapped around me like a cloak. “You’re safe.”
Safe. With him. It was an unbelievable thought, but I’d needed him, and he had come.
“I want to be able to kill him.” My fists clutched at his tunic without meaning to. I was clinging to him, and he was rocking me in his arms, and I was going to cringe over this tomorrow. But now, I just needed him.
Fieran let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Oh, you can.”
I blinked up at him through my tears.
