“Are you going to kill me or just stand there and talk about it?” The chain swings in his hand. It’s a weapon he knows how to use. I have to stay out of range.
“If I don’t kill you, you’ll kill me.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Am I supposed to take your word for it?”
He shrugs and gives me that smile again. “I’m not in the habit of killing pretty ladies.”
I snort. “How many women have you killed?”
The smile vanishes. “None. That’s a far worse crime.”
I lift my eyebrows. Something whistles past me. At first I think It’s an insect, but the man grabs his arm. He doesn’t dissolve into ink, instead red blood spills between his fingers.
Something hits me in the back. A sharp heat floods my muscles. I turn, gun ready. There’s someone standing near the cacti. The sun is at their back, blinding me.
I fire twice before my muscles weaken. The noise echoes over the barren landscape. I’m going to die out here. Poisoned. Still better than being gutted alive by a monster.
I drop to one knee and glance behind me at the man I’d been hunting. He’s fared no better. He drops his knife and chain and collapses.
Shit.
“What do you want?” I shout, but my words are slurred.
The stranger walks closer, a dark shadow haloed by light. I wobble and fall to the ground. The stranger leans over, his eyes gleaming gold.
3
Cillian
Ibreathe slowly, trying not to reveal that I’m awake in case someone is watching. My arm stings from whatever was in the dart and my mouth is dry like I’ve been eating sand. But I’m alive, and that’s something.
When the woman had leveled the gun at me, I thought I was done. There’d been a commitment in her posture that few have. If I hadn’t spoken to her, then I’d probably be dead already. Which, depending on where I am, might be the better option.
She’s with me. I can hear her breathing, sense her. A tiny ripple of magic. She’s fae. And a hunter. We aren’t that different. Except she thinks I’m a monster.
Given that we’ve been captured, I’d say I am the least monstrous of the options.
I crack open my eyes. Starlight casts the desert in cool grays and deep black. It washes over her skin, bleaching it white. Without moving, I let my gaze wander as best as I can. There's nothing to see, only dirt and rocks and the occasional plant. I don't think we've been taken far, which would make sense. Carrying two bodies is hard work. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to know exactly where I am, who took me, and why.
I don't like being kidnapped.
I like being snuck up on even less and it happened to me twice in the space of a few minutes. I'm either getting lazy or careless, and both can be fatal in my line of work. I reach out along the magic that leaks from faery.
I think this place is near the breach as the magic feels wilder and stronger. Homesickness grips me hard and I ache for the sweet air and endless summer. For the life I gave up.
Usually humans avoid places where the boundary between realms is thin. It’s like they can sense that there's something wrong, even though they don't know what. It helps that the animals that come through look like creatures from their nightmares. Haunted forests and such are where the faery and human worlds meet.
When I’m sure no one is watching I sit up and stretch, then I check my weapons. Both knives are missing, as is the chain—to be expected. It’s then I notice the weight missing from around my neck. My way home is gone.
Every rider is given a necklace that has three pieces of faery, stone, rock, and metal, and when mixed with fae blood it forms a portal directly to the heart of faery.
Riders are only supposed to use it when we’ve decided that we’ve killed enough monsters and found a woman to bring with us. To return empty handed is to be banished to the outer realms—a fate worse than being sentenced to be a rider. At least I have a chance to earn my way home, though I had to wait ten thousand days before attempting to return. I kept a careful count at first.
I’ve long since lost track of the days, even though it has been far longer.
At some point I started enjoying the human world, the hunting, and the killing—some would say I enjoyed that before I was sent away, but that isn’t true.
