Page 83 of The Shadow Fae Rhapsody
Hope.
Pride swells in my chest as I watch them honor her. She has succeeded in whatever it is she’s trying to do.
I catch her stealing another furtive glance at me while entertaining her guests. Maybe she misses me as much as miss her, or maybe she’s afraid I might slaughter the nobles in the hall.
Tempting… but I won’t, little fawn.Not if it meant never looking into those eyes again.
Pssst psst psst.
Red starts calling me like he would a cat. I avoid the urge to rip his throat.
Too many witnesses, I remind myself as I walk over to him. The knight cocks his head to his left.
An audience has formed around Shade and three noble ladies.
“Why is the Nightwalker here? It’s unfair that the killer gets to walk freely while pieces of my aunt have not been found,” a short blond-haired elven girl in a black, backless dress cries to him.
Shade lifts his shirt to show her a healed scar on his abdomen.
“The Nightwalker didn’t kill your aunt. This is the creature’s bite-mark on me,” he reveals to the flocking assemblage. “As you can see, the puncture doesn’t match the vampire’s teeth-marks.”
“He’s been showing that proof to at least four other people already,” Red mutters, shaking his head. Apparently, the knight summoned me here just to share this embarrassment.
The assassin is trying to clear my name. I supposed that is something…
One of the girls touches the mark over his abdomen curiously. “It really is too wide for a Nightwalker’s fangs,” she marvels in awe.
The receptive audience murmurs among themselves, agreeing with her statement.
Shade nods and adds, “Then again, the vampire can easily shape shift.”
This fucking guy. Whose side is he on?
“The Grimsbane is correct.” A deep, smooth voice commands the attention of the crowd. Eyepatch appears in his silver armor, his blue cape spilling over his shoulders. “The vampire is innocent. Dangerous he may be, but he is not responsible for the episodes of killing that have been happening in Windhaven. I have in my hand a piece of fur and claws taken from the killer.”
Murmurs and gasps follow his disclosure.
Eyepatch’s expression remains neutral as he briefs the monster’s nature in extensive detail. “The fae call them Starweavers, humans named them Chupacabra.”
“A large rodent that lives by the river,” Shade whispers from my left.
“That’s capybara, you idiot.” Garrett sighs.
The nobles move on to listen to Eyepatch’s insight and the Grimsbane’s embarrassing display from earlier is all but forgotten.
Red whispers something low, knowing that I’m the only one who can hear him. “Two gentlemen will introduce themselves shortly. Both are servants of Bran, God of the Underworld.”
The elves have deities for almost everything. The Goddess of Abundance and Fruits, the God of Beginnings and Endings, the Keeper of lost things, and the list goes on.
“The older guy is the Head Priest. It’s a minor temple, but his support could mean a lot for Rhianelle,” the knight alerts me again.
As soon as he finishes his words, the males arrive with their wine glasses in hand. There is nothing remarkable about the elves, from their short-cropped black hair to their bland face. The grand clothes they adorn are no different from the other nobles in this room. Their stocky bodies, however, are built more like warriors than monks.
“If it isn’t the young Lord Clayborne,” the younger elf greets in a tone clipped with a strange accent I’ve never heard before among the elves. He removes his gaze from Red and turns to me. “I don’t believe we are acquainted. I am Taron of Taurham. May I introduce you to the honorable Lord Rivtarr of Aetherlow.”
He gestures to the older male and Red nods respectfully. I do the same.
The lack of response from us prompts Taron to add, “Centuries ago, the Nightwalker infestation had become too much for the humankind to handle and they sought our help. Lord Rivtarr once led the Vampire Hunting Division in his younger days. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”
