Page 6 of The Shadow Heir

Nostrils flaring, I decided to end this chase. In the blink of an eye, I slipped into the darkness itself, becoming one with the night in my Shadow form, and placed myself directly in the woman’s path.

As was customary, she screamed bloody murder when I appeared in front of her. However, contrary to all my other encounters with human females, this one didn’t melt with fear or swoon at my glamour.

She shoved an iron dagger into my stomach.

3

Zara

Istared at the face of my pursuer. His dark hair hung across his brow and touched his cheek, hiding his eyes. A smile played on his lips, which just made me shove the blade in harder, until the hilt was the only thing sticking out.

The flesh of his abdomen was hard as a brick wall against my knuckles, now slippery with blood. He’d disappeared and reappeared without moving at all. A trickster, a fae, just like the one I’d met in Puerta only weeks ago, the one who’d married my best friend and taken her away. But if he was fae, the iron should be working already. Instead, he watched me, as if waiting to see what I would do next. He appeared in no great discomfort, other than the blood pouring out of him and the slight flex in his jaw muscle. If I hadn’t been so panicked and trying to balance the bow on my shoulder, I would have aimed better and hit him where it mattered.

My breaths came so angry and fast that my cheeks puffed out like the gills of the decorative koi my father kept in the garden pond. I’d been collecting an arrow that had sailed over the targets along the forest’s edge when I’d seen his white shirt—a trespasser on my father’s land—and taken a shot. That hadn’t hurt him, either. Silver-white moonlight barely touched him, as if the darkness clung to him.

The iron worked slower than I’d expected.

The man bent over, head dropping so much that his longish black hair touched my extended arm. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if I should yank the blade out and call for Ignacio, or if I should leave the blade in so the iron would keep his magic at bay.

The legends were all such a jumble, considering the stories shifted every year as the storytellers attempted to earn more money. Mortals seldom paid well to hear stories of the fae unless they were ridiculous accounts: how a single mortal hero brought down the entire Wild Hunt or slew a fae king. I could hardly trust such tales to give me accurate information on how to defeat the fae.

So, I stood there, my hand growing wetter with hot blood by the second, unsure what my next move was. Father had omitted this particular conundrum from my years of training.

I elected to leave the knife in, taking my chances on running while the intruder was magicless. He’d pulled my arrow out easily enough, so I supposed he could have the dagger out in a matter of seconds as well, and as soon as that iron left his body, he would likely be strong again.

Using every ounce of my adrenaline and training, I charged toward the garden entrance at the back of my house, which was still far enough away that I couldn’t see Ignacio. He’d see me soon enough, though, which was a strange comfort, considering how many nights I’d spent trying to avoid him.

As I raced through the garden, heart beating between my ears rather than in my chest, I tried to smear the blood off my hand with each pump of my arms. My mind flashed to everything I knew about the fae—which wasn’t much.

They were real, all right. And they took humans.

I leaped over a stone statue of a frog and decided to abandon the winding path for the more direct route to the door. So far, I couldn’t hear anyone pursuing me. But my footsteps and breaths were so loud, I doubted I would hear a horse if it galloped up behind me.

Which was why I was caught completely unaware when a white-shirted torso appeared two steps in front of me. I didn’t even have time to slow down. My body crashed into his, and instead of knocking him down, I cracked like I’d run straight into a wall.

I was on the ground, groaning, before I knew what had happened.

He stood there, bloodstained and smug, as if nothing had happened.

Anger spewed out. “But that was iron!”

The man, glamoured again to be so stupidly attractive it was unfair, held the dagger up to the moonlight, examining the blood-soaked blade. “You mean this one?”

His eyes flicked to something over my shoulder, and I scrambled to my feet, chest heaving. Only then did I see the second man, standing behind me as if he’d been there all along. He was sheathed in shadows and as silent as the night. His features were dark—and he tilted his head down, away from the moonlight—that I couldn’t see his eyes or mouth. He had wavy hair and wore dark colors, an exquisite suit by the looks of the cut and the sheen of the fabric.

He must be the one who didn’t do the chasing. This riffraff, with his crinkled white shirt, must be the errand boy.

I couldn’t outrun them. So instead, I grabbed an arrow from my quiver and, with a quick spin, aimed it at the second man. It flashed in the pale light as I held the tip at his temple.

But the man moved like smoke and was gone before I’d even seen him take a step.

Then a sticky blade was at my throat, and I knew I’d lost.

All those years of training, and I’dlostin a matter of seconds. Father hadn’t told me what creatures would come for me. Hadn’t told me anything at all about the bargain, other than that my time here, in this home, in this life, would expire after twenty years. He’d never saidfaewere the ones he’d bargained with, though I’d pondered endlessly the places I might be taken if I were ever captured by a supernatural being. Secretly, I’d always hoped Oscuro was some sort of apothecary, someone who used herbal remedies few others knew about and had gained a reputation for miraculous powers. I’d hoped he wasn’ttrulymagical.

“My friend Felipe is an excellent warrior. I wouldn’t threaten him,” whispered the man I’d wounded twice as he held me with unyielding strength. I stared at the only part of him I could see, his forearm, ridged with veins up to his elbow, where his white shirt made a stark contrast with his dusty olive skin. “Are you going to stop fighting now?” he asked, his voice like hot wax poured over my shoulder as he held the blade close to my throat without touching it. Each word stung, marking my defeat.

Fae had magic. Fae stole humans. Fae ruined my life less when they took Talia.

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