Page 14 of Last Ride of the Umbra Fae

“Find anything you like, End’s Wrath?” I sneered, dropping my glare to his.

“Never have. Probably never will,” was all he said before shoving past me.

Smart move, old man.

It wasn’t long until dawn broke across the horizon and we were ready to leave. There was no reason to move the bodies; we left them as a sign of death for anyone who dared to follow.

We rode for hours in silence. I think the fire had done something to Vessa, unraveling a numbing darkness, sending her into some sort of daze—maybe a nightmare she couldn’t escape. Whatever it was, she had been triggered. She glanced my way with a suspicious glower. I knew I had to make things right after showering her in death.

I rode up beside her, both our horses keeping a steady gait. The sound of their hooves had become soothing as gravel was crushed beneath them.

“Demons are a funny thing,” I said, easing up on the reins as I leaned back slightly.

“So you consider yourself a funny guy?” She was vexed, refusing to look my way.

A low chuckle rumbled in my chest. Looking straight ahead, I caught her bird’s silhouette flying half a mile ahead.

“Maybe.”

There was a long pause before she hid a smirk, a comfortable silence; or I was just a horny, crazed idiot in the presence of a beautiful woman.

“They’re unwanted guests. They show up whenever the fuck they want. Sometimes, it’s hard to make them leave,” I said, sneaking a glance from beneath the brim of my hat. I was a fool to allow my heart to jump like it did, already caught in her stare.

“How do you make them leave?” she asked, a tone less guarded than before as she rubbed her hand over the sore parts of her neck that bore dried, crusted blood.

“You don’t. You just make friends with them,” I said, tossing her a vial of the only thing that might help at this moment.

She caught it in her gloved hands, looked down, and smiled.

Another glance from beneath her black cowboy hat, and I might just fucking perish.

“That should help with some of thoseinnerdemons.”

11

Vessa

The tonic felt like an illusion as I rolled it between my fingers, its inky swells of dark magic glinting in the battering sun. I popped the cork off with my thumb, tipped my head back, and swallowed every last drop. I felt the power of the Eternal rush through my body, a welcome heat that coiled down my spine only to flush back up in a comforting, vibrational buzz. The pain had eased, and my eyes closed in a soft flutter as the sore flesh around my neck began to heal. I removed my hat and gloves to feel the full effect, freeing myself of any constricting material over the healing process. Hells, if I were under the moon, I would have stripped off all my clothes and doused myself in it.

The pleasant breeze was the calm to my storm. Every breath grew lighter, and the pounding of my heart slowed to a resting pulse. Looking ahead at Raven, I wished he could experience this type of healing. It had taken about an hour for the full shift to occur; his silkened, luminescent feathers had shrunk down to shoulders full of sharp thorns until they’d fully receded. I knew the poor bird would spend the rest of the evening sulking. I would have given him this tonic, but I already knew he would never take it.

I didn’t expect Pa to say a damn word after what had happened. He was lost to his own thoughts, keeping his stare on the terrain ahead.

As silent as the dead.

I knew anything that came out of his mouth would end with a jab. The old man didn’t mince his words for shit, especially when he was in a mood like this. I was lucky not to be the target of his ire because something loomed whenever he looked at Ryder.

As the cocky, invasive cowboy watched everything I did, every thought that flitted across my face, I used it to my advantage.

“What’s your story?” I asked.

The question must have caught him off guard, because he looked insulted.

“There is none,” he replied in a quick, muted tone, tightening his grip on the reins as he shifted in the saddle.

“Everyone has a story.” I hummed.

“Well, mine isn’t worth remembering.”

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