He was a fae—the magic radiating from him was so strong I could feel it resonate in my teeth. But his clothes—leather arm bracers, black boots, fitted black pants, a sweeping dark gray jacket split up the back with a high collar—were also a dead giveaway of fae workmanship.
If I hadn’t known any better, I might have thought he was one of the long dead elven warriors come back to life, but he had the whispery kiss of fae magic, and his ears were only slightly tapered like the fae.
But it didn’t matter; his black eyes pinned me in place, and I knew he was here to kill me.
Terror held a scream in my throat that couldn’t rip free. I stared up at him, paralyzed in fear. My fingers and legs were numb and didn’t listen when I tried at the very least to pull myself backwards.
He stared at me with his dead, light-less eyes, and pulled a dagger from his belt. “Mortem.”
I tried to fish my charm bracelet from my pocket—one of the charms was stuck on the edge of my pants.
His dagger glowed white hot, and he flicked it in my direction.
The dagger caught onsomething—or it looked like it did, because the fae froze with the dagger barely hanging from his fingertips.
I blinked stupidly up at the fae, who was frowning at his dagger.
I saw him lean into the weapon, his muscles tense with exertion, and he clenched his jaw as he pushed.
His arm didn’t move.
I gaped from the fae to his dagger.What the heck? I don’t see anything?
And then I felt it—a faint pressure.
Veined with the cobweb sensation that fae magic gave me, I felt magic thrum around us, creating a slight pressure in the air.
At least, it felt slight to me—it must have been stronger to the fae. He gritted his jaw, and I could see the muscles of his neck tensing as he tried to resist it, but eventually it pushed him back two steps.
The fae horses casually joined us, flanking me like it was no big deal, even though the muscles in my arms were still shaking.
Blue Moon casually sniffed my phone, and I was so consumed with the hope that he wouldn’t step on it, that I almost missed the fae’s words.
“Queen,” he said in a voice that was simultaneously smooth as ice and filled with rage.
“W-what?” I stammered.
His eyes were black holes in his freezing anger, and he dropped his chin for a moment.
Fae magic flared, and a stinging gust of wind blew dust into my face.
I curled an arm over my face to protect my eyes, and when everything settled the fae was gone.
“What just happened?” I stared at the spot where he’d stood—he hadn’t even left boot prints in the dirt.
I glanced up at the fae horses. “Was that magic from you guys? I certainly didn’t get a chance to cast anything.”
None of the horses responded except Comet, who lipped the top of my head. I shivered, remembering the fae’s cold, dead eyes. “He was definitely from the Night Court. Most fae from the Night Court have dark taupe, copper, or olive complexions like he did…I better call Hazel.”
I boosted myself to my feet and was in the process of wiping muck off my phone when two cars gunned it down the driveway.
I squinted, and my heart—which hadn’t recovered from my attempted murder—flopped uselessly in my chest.
The cars were a deep silvery color, and they both had the spotless, shiny look of luxury—which was at odds with the hobby farm, particularly as they parked just in front of the wooden pasture fence. But it wasn’t until I spotted the beautiful woman driving one of the cars—gorgeous in an impossible sort of way—that I realized they were from the supernatural community.
“It’s fine,” I told myself as I quickly swiped my phone open and speed dialed one of my contacts. “Maybe they’re following the almost-a-killer-creeper.”
My phone dialed as the fae emerged from the cars, looking around them with their fine noses wrinkled in distaste.
