Page 4 of Last Ride of the Umbra Fae

I swallowed the lump in my throat, gritting my teeth and only sneering in response. I should kill the human and take back what was ours.

When he saw I offered no warm greeting, he looked to Pa. “Sir.”

Pa tipped his hat, but beneath the brim, his side-eyed glare sent a warning strong enough to coil down my spine.

Not worth it.

My jaw tensed, reining back the recklessness that was brimming over.

He’s right. We weren’t here to take the morsel of the stone this human had somehow salvaged; we were here to find that tonic. But I knew, eventually, I’d be back, and I’d take the entire fucking realm of it.

Clicking my tongue against my cheek, I watched the man disappear inside his home as I rode on. In passing, I glanced inside a window where a hearth warmed their dinner. He was welcomed with a table full of food and a family that rushed him. Their muffled laughter from beyond their front door drew me to look away. Gunfire rang in the distance, but not many people ducked for cover. They weren’t afraid to die here, not with the power of Eternal.

“We will have our day,”the bird said with a soft tone. He must have been truly hungry if he was being this kind to me.

“The hells are coming for them,” I vowed, unable to stand how they clung to Eternal like their finest wine. He flew off my shoulder and disappeared out of sight.

We tied our horses to the hitching post near the water trough outside the local saloon, hoping to get a room for the night. Two, if I could be particular. There was enough money, compliments of the man who had tried to cut off my ears a few nights ago once he discovered he’d been fucking a fae. I had warned him prior to keep his hands off my hair, but for some reason, the greedy fuck felt like being passionate, running his hand up the side of my face with fingers brushing against the tip of my ears. His end was met by the grip of my thighs straddling his head as shadows expelled his last breath. Now, examining the nice gold ring he’d left on my pinky finger, I considered it another parting gift.

Beside me was an untied black stallion with a calm and graceful demeanor. I briefly noticed the traveler’s bags with the neck of a guitar sticking out. It struck me as odd anyone would leave something like that lying around.

Just as I was about to go inside, something else grabbed my attention. I felt like I was being watched, but when I turned, I noticed a piece of paper nailed to a post.

“‘WANTED,’” I read aloud. My brows furrowed. “‘For the murder of forty-five harmless civilians and counting at Grand Dusk’s Tavern. Last seen heading west in the company of an old man and a petblue jay.’” I snickered, ignoring the sharp pain in my right arm as I tore the sign off the post and handed it to Pa. He studied the paper, reading faster than I could with a twitch to his mouth. Somewhere behind that façade was a chuckle dying to escape, but his jaw was set tight; nothing pleasant would come out.

“You have a warrant out for your arrest. Two thousand nara coins to be exact,” he warned, handing it back to me. “There will be more of these, with enough men looking to retire.”

I brushed off what he said as I studied how they’d gotten my eyes just right. “I’ve never had my picture drawn before. The bastard knows how to draw a nice cowboy hat. This one’s cleaner than the real thing.” I folded the paper and slipped it into an inner pocket of my trench coat. For a keepsake. “I wonder if this artist takes commissions.”

“Your life ain’t a game to play with. Stay in my line of sight,” Pa said as a gang of men erupted in drunken laughter. He peered into the windows, getting a sense of what the patrons inside would be like, and then looked over his shoulder.

Giving one final tug on the reins tied to the post, I chuckled. “Whatever you say.”

“I mean it.”

Maybe one day he would be more direct. Tell me he sensed something following us and not just divert it toward these drunken men without any sense of their surroundings.

But realistically, that would never happen. His indirectness was a language only Ma, my sister, myself, and the bird understood.

Striding toward the swinging doors, his shadow gripped my arms.

“Vessa,” he warned again. My eyes shot down to the dark swirls circling my bicep, not his usual stark black he summoned when killing. There was a softness to his shadows, one that matched his eyes, briefly exposing a flash of concern. Bold move, but as I looked around, night had already come, and we were cloaked by the blanket of its stars.

“You shouldn’t worry about me. I can handle myself,” I said, pressing a hand against the corner of the wooden door as I ignored the buzz of energy along my palm from whatever lay beyond it. I turned to him once more with a half smile. The motion released his soft grip. “Besides, I learned from the best.” I smirked.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,”is what Pa’s face read, but he tipped his hat. I felt him watch me disappear into the crowd until the doors stopped swaying. Taking a look around, too many sets of eyes looked upon me from behind their decks of cards and the brims of their mugs. The gaggle of voices seized as I walked straight into the den of hungry wolves.

“Keepto the shadows and low-lit taverns. There, your fate awaits.”

3

Ryder

Nightlife had always been the same no matter how far I traveled. This was just another place men came to harbor their demons and nurse their liquor in hopes of wetting their dicks by the end of it. The same smells, the same racket of drunken men with roaming eyes looking for a pair of plump breasts to gawk at; this experience was a highlight of their poor existence. If they only knew they were no different from fae, but it wasn’t my job to point that shit out. Inside a world where they were hunted, enslaved, and killed, hid a network of them harnessing a newfound magic to glamor their pointed ears and any other feature that distinguished them by sight. The convenience of the glamor didn’t mean we could live a merry, fucking, little life together on this hell-wrecked land. I was here to do a job: to meet End’s Wrath and his daughter and be their guide.

So he thought.

I was a job, a solution, a cure to what the humans felt was a disease spreading across their land. Tilting my head to the side, I watched the bubbles churn in my amber-filled glass. Maybe I was a disease too. But I was considered special because I had a talent far exceeding basic human strength. I had no lines todraw. I only crossed them. I was death, kicking down their door, waiting to take a life to line my own pockets.

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