2
Oran
“Fuck me.” I swallow the last of my drink, not willing to waste it—even though I swear it was watered down before it hit my glass. Why Shay hangs out in this shithole, I don’t know. And he’s clearly not here, even though he was supposed to meet me. He has to be the most unreliable rider, yet he’s the only one in the area.
The only redeeming feature of this place is the bartender, and she’s as sharp and dangerous as everyone else. I’d risk cutting my fingers to have some fun with her. I’m considering how best to ask her name when an owl-like cry fills the room.
It’s the only warning I get as the bar erupts in a melee. Fists connect with flesh. Blood sprays and blades are drawn. The men here know how to fight, they’re armed, and they’re savage. But the aggression isn’t all theirs.
I need to find the newyn and kill it, so far though it’s eluded me. Or has it been hunting me? Did I lead it here?
It’s a fifty-fifty chance and I can’t let these humans beat each other to a pulp, or worse. The newyn feeds on aggression and human death. If I don’t do something it will be feasting tonight and stronger tomorrow.
The last thing I need is it becoming more powerful and harder to kill. I’ve already had two tries and failed both times, which is why I’d been hoping Shay would help. But I’m not the only fae in the bar.
I slam down my glass and turn to the woman behind the bar. “Do you know how to fight or are you all bark?”
While I carry a gun, it’s full of silver, which is great for monsters, but not so great for humans. Plus, I don’t want to actually kill anyone—it’s against our code of ethics.
She pulls a baseball bat from under the bar and lifts an eyebrow. “You think this is the first time this has happened?”
I grin. I like her attitude; it’s completely wasted here. “No, but I’ll wager it’s the first time it’s been monster driven.”
Her eyebrows pinch together. I don’t know why such a pretty thing is working in this bar, and right now I don’t have time to figure it out or ask the right questions. While she knows I’m fae, she may not know she is. Fae born in the human realm are female, while those born in faery are male.
I push away from the bar and wade into the brawl. I don’t swing punches, just block, and let people run into my elbows. My reflexes are quicker than a human’s so it wouldn’t be a fair fight. Blood spatter hits me on face and I snarl, tripping the aggressor over and spinning the victim out of the way of the next punch. Glass shatters on table edges to make weapons and knives glint.
I’m not quite in the middle of the room, but it will have to do.
Using obvious magic also breaks our code, but to hell with that. Most riders don’t deal with newyns. Newyns rarely leave the outer realms of faery, but when they do and if left to run free, they start with brawls and end with wars.
It’s not often I draw on magic, as it drains me, but I don’t want more human blood shed and a well fed newyn. I lift my hands. Someone slams into my back and I stumble forward. I mutter a few words in the old fae tongue and then clap my hands three times. Every human in the room drops to the floor, asleep.
Humans know it as the sleeping beauty spell, but these beauties won’t sleep for a hundred years, only a hundred minutes. Hopefully, that’s enough time for me to find the newyn and kill it. Third time lucky and all that.
I turn and take a wobbly step toward the bar, then drop to one knee on the sticky floor. The spell shouldn’t have taken so much from me.
The woman vaults over the bar as light on her feet as any rider. If she’d been born in faery, maybe she’d have become a rider and crossed the human realm to fight monsters and find a mate. “What did you do?”
“Sleeping spell, they’ll be fine. They were going to be hungover, anyway.” I’m sure they won’t be able to tell the difference between one brought on by magic and one caused by alcohol.
“You have magic?” She stares at me with wide, dark eyes. When the light catches them, they spark gold. She doesn’t bother asking why she’s still awake.
“All fae do,” I say carefully, not sure I really want this conversation. And one hundred percent sure I don’t have time to explain that she’s fae, and all that entails. But I’d like that chance later.
Her lips turn up as she considers me for a moment. “So I have magic? I can put people to sleep?”
She knows she’s fae. That changes things.
“Probably not. I don’t know what kind of magic you have. But you’ll be able to do something.” It’s clear she’s not going to offer me a hand up, but that’s okay as I don’t want to appear that weak in front of her. I get to my feet, still shaken from the use of magic. “I need to go hunting and find the newyn that caused this.”
She shakes her head. “It’s a biker bar, fights happen most days.” I can tell she’s full of bluster. Her knuckles are white where she grips the baseball bat too tight. “What’s a newyn?”
“A creature from an outer realm of faery. Feeds on human aggression and fear.” And who was hunting who, doesn’t matter when we both ended up here where humans can get hurt. Where the fuck is Shay? If I have help, it will be easier to take on the newyn.
I glance at her. She’s chin height, with short dark hair and brown eyes that look like they’ve seen too much. I don’t know how old she is because even in the human world, the fae age slower. Only fae born here are female. And one of the supposed rewards of being a rider is claiming a woman, fae or human, and having children back home in faery.
I can’t imagine anything worse than returning to faery.
