Fae Hunter (Tangled Fae Book 1) Read online

  Well, that made it interesting.

  I shivered. The problem was, the Fae were predators.

  Beautiful predators, my mind insisted, but predators all the same.

  I’d hunted predators with father before. Wolves. Coyotes. Mountain Lions. With predators, the best way to trap them was to lure them in with the cries of injured prey – now obviously we didn’t hurt rabbits just to bring in wolves, but my imitation of a wounded rabbit was pretty good. Annoying, but good. And you’d tie a piece of cloth to the end of a low branch and tie a string to the branch so you could pull the string and waggle it all around and make it look like a rabbit was flopping around on the ground. I’d done that before, too.

  But the Shining Ones weren’t wolves or coyotes.

  So, how did I lure them in? They already seemed drawn to me. They already seemed to want me and my family. So, maybe I didn’t need any more bait than that.

  But bait was only half my problem. The other half was actually trapping them. I had this cage. Could that do something? It was called the Cage of Souls. That seemed promising.

  I kept my eyes glued to the forest, trying to look for any flicker of movement as I stood in the clearing, slowly spinning around. Was there any mention of a cage in the old stories? There was Glinda and the Magic Locket. In that story, all Glinda had to do was kiss the locket and it kept her soul safe. But that wasn’t a cage. There was Jath and the Red Hood. In that Faewald story, if Jath wore the hood, he was invisible to the Faeries and could sneak through their lands. Again, not a cage.

  Try as I might, I couldn’t think of any cages in the old stories.

  If the cage was a mystery, then I needed to rely on what I did know. I quoted the old rhyme to myself again.

  Music to bind, Fire to blind, Look in their eye, With Iron they die.

  Olen was doing his part at keeping them at bay with his music. I wasn’t really in the condition to look anyone in the eye right now. Not with my blindfold on when I wasn’t using my second sight. That left fire and iron. Only a fool would go tripping through the woods with fire in her hands. That was a great way to burn our home to the ground with a massive forest fire. But I could find iron. All my father’s arrows were iron tipped. And with the blindfold, I could still use a bow.

  Determined now that I had a plan, I gave the woods around me one last look and when no one poked their head out from behind a tree, I pulled my blindfold on, took a deep breath and strode down the path toward my home. There would be arrows there. And a bow. I’d get the iron I needed and get out fast before my mother noticed me. I could just guess what she would say if she saw me – after losing my sister and now my father ...

  I shivered. I’d better hurry.

  I slid through the trees as quietly as I could, trying not to make a sound.

  Which was how I stumbled over them without them noticing me.

  I noticed Heldra first, standing stalk-still with her eyes wide and a look of ecstasy on her face. Her little sister – four-year-old Denelda – clutched her hand, but her fingers were slipping out of Heldra’s grip as her other hand reached for something.

  Hurriedly, I yanked the blindfold from my eyes and gasped.

  There were two of the enemy.

  And they were gloriously beautiful.

  They looked like brothers, with the exact same mischievous, charming grins, the exact same dark hair and intricate winding tattoos up their arms and over their bare chests and rippling abdominals. Those vests did nothing to hide their forms. The wings were identical, too – like the dark wings of hawks – glorious and dangerous both at once. I recognized the way they were there and not there and then suddenly – just like last time – I blinked and all I saw were ragged torn wings with leather hanging in strips from them. Jagged belts with hunks of cloth and stinking leather formed clothing and their hair was matted, unwashed, and dirty. They stank.

  Only for a moment.

  And then they were back to glorious once more. One of them scooped up Denelda’s flickering ghost and she clung to him, giggling, while the other took Heldra’s spectral hand, drawing her to him for a passionate kiss.

  They hadn’t seen me, not yet. If I hurried, if I ran, maybe I could get home, grab a bow and get back in time to stop them before they brought the girls through the circle.

  But that would mean putting the blindfold over my eyes and blocking out the spirit plane. Fear spiked down my spine like a falling icicle. What other choice did I have? I couldn’t abandon them to the Shining Ones – not even Heldra.

  With shaking hands, I pulled the blindfold over my eyes and ran.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Where was it? Where was it?

  There! I grabbed the bow from the top shelf in the goat shed, slipping my foot between the bow and string as I pushed my weight onto the upper limb and quickly re-strung it. Good. And now arrows.

  There were a few dozen shoved shaft-first into an empty barrel. I filled a leather quiver with as many as I could jam inside. They were all iron tipped. I checked their fletching by long habit. Good.

  I spun, planning to run back out of the shed and almost ran straight into my mother. The sound she made in the back of her throat was half-howl and half-sigh, half relief and half panic.

  She was blocking the door.

  “Mother,” I gasped. What did I say? There was too much. Best to leave it for later. “I need to get past you.”

  “Allie Hunter!” She shook with emotion. “Alastra Hunter, don’t you dare take a step! Don’t you dare! Where were you all night? I was so worried. Your father ...”

  She swallowed a moan, her hand covering her mouth and her face crumpling in pain. Awkwardly, I reached for her as she shook with contained sobs. It took her a moment to finish shaking in my awkward half-hug before she pulled away, her face schooling itself to calm.

  “He went after you! He went into the circle!”

  “I know,” I said.

  “You know?” The betrayal in her voice cut me to the quick.

  “I saw Olen. He told me. But I can’t stay and talk. I must go. The Fae have Heldra and Denelda. And if I don’t catch up to them, they’ll take them, too!”

  “You knew and you didn’t come straight home,” she sounded gutted.

  “I just found out,” I said, trying to be calm. Trying not to let her re-spark that fear. If it started again, I wasn’t sure I could burn it away this time. “And I have to go after the Thatcher girls. I’m Hunter now, Mother.”

  “I thought you were blind, Alastra!” She didn’t sound angry anymore. She sounded terrified. “How do you plan to hunt them without your sight? You can’t just leave me again when you’ve only just returned!”

  “I’ll explain later, Mother. I don’t have time now!” No time for all these emotions, either. “But your grandmother’s scarf – it works! It helps me see!”

  I pushed past her – a girl on a mission. Her hand closed around my arm, pulling me back.

  “Where did you find that cage? That’s not ... it’s not the Cage of Souls, is it?”

  “Maybe,” I said a little guiltily. There was something about her tone – like she thought I was doing something wrong.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Maybe she was burning away emotions, too. Because when she was done, she opened her eyes and peace ruled her features again.

  “There’s a price to that,” she said. “A price to use it.”

  “Then I’ll just have to pay the price, won’t I?” I said. But I was just a bit worried. What kind of price did you pay? No time for that. I burned that worry away, feeding it into the fire of my determination. I’d pay the price I had to pay.

  “Let me,” she said a little breathlessly. “Let me do it for you.”

  I sighed. “You’re not much of a hunter, Mother, you know that. You can’t even track the goats. You could shoot all day and never hit the target. I’m Hunter now that father is gone. This is my job. And I’ll be good at it.”

  She was clearly t
orn, still wanting to take the cage from me, but swayed by my words. I leaned in close and hugged her fiercely, wishing I could stay with her, wishing I could let her do this for me, protect me, shelter me. But I couldn’t. This was my task. My trial. My redemption.

  “Please, Allie. Please, take care.” A tiny dent had formed in her forehead.

  “I promise,” I whispered, hugging her one last time, before slipping out into the night. And I wasn’t sure if I was lying or not.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I crept through the woods, trying to be fast and careful at the same time. Every time I slipped the blindfold off, I could see their trail – smoky and dark in seductive swirls and tangles through the trees. At one point, a second tangled black trail joined them. It wasn’t black so much as it was the opposite of light – like a living dark.

  I had to put the blindfold back on frequently to navigate the trails without stumbling. The back and forth was giving me a headache and it was nearly sunset in the forest. The Fae had not headed straight for the circle of Star Stones as I’d expected. They’d headed toward the mountains I’d started from at dawn.

  My legs ached from all the walking and my throat burned. I needed a drink of water and something to eat. But Hunters didn’t whine about missing meals or burning throats. They were one with the land. They were the hands of the land as they managed the herds and limited predators. And that was what I was doing tonight – limiting predators.

  What were they doing up this mountain? What were they thinking? I needed to get into their minds. If only it was as easy for me as it seemed to be for them to get into mine!

  If they weren’t taking the girls to the Star Stones to exchange them for the freedom of more Shining Ones, then why had they taken them?

  That ‘why’ rang uncomfortably in my head over and over again.

  What did the stories say about what the Shining Ones wanted?

  There was the story of nine-toed Noris who had been enchanted by Faeries to dance until all his toes fell off, but after losing just one of them, he fell into a well and died dancing at the bottom. There was the story of Ella the Enchanted who had been enchanted by Faeries to think that stones were frosted cakes until she ate so many that she fell down and died. There was the story of the Empty Houses in which Faeries had visited a village and stolen the children out of their beds from every home that had failed to leave out a saucer of milk for them.

  But did any of those lead me closer to the truth?

  They told me one thing very plainly. The Shining Ones had a great sense of humor, if killing people in cruel ways seemed funny to you. And they loved sweets and dancing and fun – if you looked past the fact that they also loved killing people with them. And they loved to instill terror in people. They fed off it. It made them laugh.

  I shivered.

  What terror were they going to inflict on the Thatcher girls? What terror were they inflicting on my father? My sister?

  I chewed my lip as I worked my way up the mountain.

  There was a glow from a fire up above me on a narrow ledge on the side of the mountain. The silhouette of someone dancing made dark shadows flicker and careen across the surrounding rocks. I crept forward slowly, taking an arrow from my quiver and nocking it on the string. I didn’t pull back yet. No point weakening the string – or my arms – before I was ready.

  I slipped my belt through the handle of the Cage of Souls and tightened it around my waist and then carefully pulled the blindfold down around my neck.

  Okay. I was ready.

  Just in time.

  When the screaming began, I scrambled upward, feeling with my hands so that I wouldn’t hit a rock or tree. I didn’t dare pull the blindfold up again. Didn’t dare miss what might be my only shot. I had to get to them before they danced off the ledge or ate stones – or whatever other awful thing the Shining Ones had in store. I gritted my teeth together and scrambled harder over the loose shale as the screams became more high-pitched and desperate.

  Denelda was only a child. Only a child! They’d better not be hurting her, or they’d bristle so badly with arrows that people would be calling them ‘Mr. Porcupine’ for the rest of their lives – which would be short.

  I saw the little girl first, her hands tied over her head, suspending her in the air over the roaring fire. Her sister – Heldra – danced wildly in front of the fire, her feet already tired, but when she slowed, the rope lowered and if she sped up, it pulled the little girl up again. How long could Heldra keep this up? Already her feet stumbled as she danced. Her breathing was ragged, and her eyes glazed over with concentration. It hadn’t taken long to wear her down. It wouldn’t take much longer to break her.

  Okay, the predators were occupied with their squealing rabbit. I counted three. The two with the hawk wings that I’d seen before and one other with smoky black wings. Now was my chance.

  With care, I raised my bow, but I couldn’t see the bow with the blindfold off. Frustrated, I pulled the blindfold on. But with it on, the Fae disappeared. They must work some charm so that the humans they interacted with could see them when they wanted to be seen but not when they didn’t. And right now, they only wanted Heldra and Denelda looking at them.

  But if I fired off an arrow without seeing them, I’d be sure to miss. And if I couldn’t see the bow and the arrow at all, I could hit Heldra or Denelda. Tsking under my breath, I pulled the blindfold off one eye but not the other.

  Okay. I looked ridiculous, and it might slip at any time – and it was giving me the worst headache I’d ever had – but this was my only shot. I nocked the arrow again and carefully brought it up, ready to draw back.

  One of the Fae was missing. There were only two where there had been three only a moment ago. My heart sped up. One holding Denelda’s rope. One taunting Heldra. It was the one with the black smoke wings – the one who had tried to seduce me in the forest. He was the one who was missing.

  I scanned the stone landscape around them and looked up and down the path, but there was nothing to see there.

  Cursing quietly, I drew the bowstring back. There were still two to deal with. This was my chance to dispatch them. I focused on the one taunting Heldra, trying to see true through dizzy eyes which could not agree on what they were seeing, steadying my breath, being sure of my target and what was beyond it, making sure I didn’t pull when I released.

  I took the shot.

  The Shining One dropped to the ground.

  And then everything happened at once.

  Heldra screamed. Denelda began to fall, her little voice shrieking in terror. The Fae holding her rope leapt forward.

  I pulled another arrow from my quiver, nocking it carefully, drawing quickly, begging my hands to stop shaking, and taking a deep breath.

  I released.

  Something gripped my shoulder with an icy hand just as I released. My arrow went wide, the blood freezing in my veins.

  I spun and there he was, a wicked smile on his face. He bit his lower lip in a tempting fashion as if it was just him and I in those woods and he wanted to be an entirely different kind of predator. The drumming of my heart was faster than a partridge’s wings. Out of control. Not just from fear, now, but from fascination and excitement, too. The blindfold slipped off my face the rest of the way and he swam into perfect clarity.

  “Little Mortal,” he purred. “I remember you. The Lady wants you, Little Hunter. She was ... specific.”

  The way he said ‘specific’ sent little chills up and down my spine.

  “Don’t stay with these blind people, Little Hunter. Come to me.”

  He beckoned with his long finger, licking his delicious upper lip as he watched me. Did he think I was edible? Or did that tempt other people?

  It should be tempting me. I had a feeling he was using all his glamor on me.

  He flexed subtly so that glistening muscles leapt to the surface of his skin, rippling all down his midsection where it showed through his open close-fitting jacket. He’d le
ft that unbuttoned as if to emphasize his lithe form. I felt a little flutter in my belly.

  He was beautiful. He made me look like an old raggedy doll beside him. Something abandoned by feckless children. He made me dull and thick beside his brilliance. Sad and miserable against his hedonistic delight. He wouldn’t have missed that shot. He wouldn’t need a staff to walk through the woods. He was perfect.

  But something was nagging at me.

  He was distracting me. He was trying to keep my gaze away from something. First, the lip-biting, then the licking, now the flexing. What was he trying to hide?

  My eyes narrowed.

  Music to bind, Fire to blind, Look in their eye, With Iron they die.

  My gaze shot up, catching his unaware so that he flinched, his eyes going wide.

  I held his gaze.

  Moments flicked past like leaves whipping from a tree in a strong wind and as they passed, that gaze we shared began to bare him before my new sight. First, the glamor fell. The brocade trousers, leather boots, and silver belt buckle fell away to nothing but rags and bones and rawhide cords. He was nothing but a skinny, fox-faced creature with matted hair and a hungry look that seemed to be eating him up from the inside. And something more – something darker rippled beneath the surface, as if even now he was still hiding a worse, darker nature.

  I kept his gaze locked with mine as his eyes took on a red gleam. The look that had seemed sinfully delicious before suddenly just felt hungry, wanting, desperate. I fumbled for the cage, pulling it from my belt and lifting it up like a lantern.

  He shied away from it, but our gazes stayed locked. It was as if he couldn’t look away first, as if just by seeing him I was stealing his power.

  And I was, wasn’t I? Because they lived off notoriety. They oozed charm to make us think they were above us.

  They lived off wanting. They made us believe they could grant all our wishes and weave us into dreams.

  They lived off fear. They drank it in like wine.

  The more powerful the emotion, the more they were alive with it.