The Faerie Slayer

Kade's Pov

It was late, and it was still unclear to me why I was stationed outside of Aubrette's house when I could have been back home, attempting to reverse my mistakes. Maybe reverse was the wrong word, there was nothing that I could do to bring back Mike.

But you could be holding Candice, instead your here, fighting a losing battle for some half faerie girl you hardly know.

For the past hour it was decided, I was going to kill the half faerie girl and present her to my father in the form of a dead human body. I was going to do the unthinkable and break whatever chain I was entrapped in that leashed me to her. I hadn't been able to sleep since the day I was introduced to Aubrette's existence. She had marched into my life and unknowingly flipped it upside down, like the true wicked faerie she was. I had stayed up, confined completely to my chaotic and undecided thoughts. I could hardly bear the thought of hurting Aubrette, let alone killing her. The idea that she must have been my mate floated around in the midst of my brain. To murder her would be a crime, only because she was half mortal. I remembered what the trow had said that night by Deadwood Creek.

'The human girl has royal blood ,her fate is forethought.'

My concerns should not be consumed with the worry about whether Aubrette lives or dies, clearly that is being taken care of already by the folk. My worry was to ensure I present my father with something. It was clear as day, that I could not present to him a faeries ashes in hopes of fooling him again into thinking it is Aubrette. He knew of her secret, and he demanded a corpse. I wondered if the trow-Jack-would come back for her now that she is not with the protection of Caleb. If so, my plan would be to demand more answers from him and then to kill him. I could not let them have Aubrette this early, I simply needed more time. I need to kiss her, I thought, like grandmother had with her mate. That's the only way I'll know for sure, and then, I will decide.

I remembered my grandmothers words and wondered if it would be the same for me. I certainly hoped not.

'I kissed to her make sure that she was indeed my mate, and she was. She lifted me off of the ground. For the first time in my life, I felt what it was like to fly without ever leaving earth.'

I asked myself if I would rather be a traitor or a murderer.

I have already coated the soils of the riverbank with sugar and dapperling mushrooms. The combination of the two is fatal, making it nearly impossible for a faerie to survive it. Either way, I'll be there with Ferrum if needed. I was going to fend off whatever creatures comes for Aubrette for now, just until I had an answer to my question. I asked myself again, would you rather be a traitor or a murderer?

The sky was settling into sable and there hadn't even been a cricket that noised. This time was chillingly silent. My parky to touch metal timer indicated that the time was half past five in the morning

I sat up at the sight of her. Now outside of her porch, the girl held a leash made of rope attached to the small dog I had seen her with previously. She continued down the steps and paused to a halt every few minutes to let the animal sniff around the bushes. I watched as she leaned down to pet the dog, even in distance I could see the admiration in her eyes. The animal began to whine at something, and Aubrette leaned further to get a closer look.

"What did you find?" Her voice was sweet although far. In her hands she picked up a what seemed to be an injured bird,"I think it needs our help."

Aubrette returned to her steps where she laid the bird down and sat herself. She tied the dog to the nearby wooden barrier. From here, I could not tell what was wrong with the bird, I could only wonder what she intended to do to help. I watched as she gently parted the feathers of its wings and began to retrieve something black in colour. It seemed to be a piece of plastic.

The bird had something stuck in its wings.

Both the dog and I watched in fascination as she rescued the poor helpless creature. It rose to its feet and bid Aubrette goodbye with a flutter of its healed wings. Shorty after, the bird soared through the sky and out of sight.

"We did it," Aubrette celebrated with the dog and I felt my heart skip a beat. I chased away the image of kissing her. I wondered if part of her knew that she was special, she must have used her faerie magic to help the bird although unknowingly.

She disappeared back inside. I could not help but think what would have happened had this been a typical faerie.

She would have plucked its feathers, one by one until the bird was stripped bare. She would not have killed it, rather tormented it for mere merriment. She would have laughed and laughed while doing so.

It was around ten minutes later when I'd finally caught sight of the creatures. Ogres, four of them with no mind to masking their appearance. Grey skinned giants with shiny heads and dagger shaped fingernails emerged from the bushes, headed onwards towards the house. This was no ordinary faerie that bore the ability to summon such creatures, ogres were employed by royalty as soldiers.

'My madame is not the queen, but fear not, she will also be coming for the head of the girl, not to kill but to immure.'

This was the doing of the Queen of Fey. They must be here to retrieve the girl for confinement. I watched intrigued, one hand on Ferrum and the other tracing my repaired ring of salt.

The creatures disappeared into the home, through the front entrance. Minutes later, they retraced, a sleeping Aubrette held in their shared grasp. Immediately, I felt my chest begin to tighten. I resisted the urge to transpire from within my lurk and grab ahold of the girl before any harm could be done to her. My wolf howled a mental roar that deafened me internally. Suddenly, and in that given moment I decided, there shall be no harm to the girl, not tonight and not ever. Tacitly, I stalked behind. At the creek, the ogres were beginning to summon the portal. The chanting of their spells echoed with the sounds of the ruffling of the leaves. The miniature typhoon began to form and I prayed that they would smell the sugar soon. I had it misted in pathways from the soil leading to the shore where the water was littered with the extract of the dapperling mushrooms. The sugar trail would distract them enough to get into the water and the poison from the mushrooms would knock them unconscious. Just as I had predicted, Aubrette's enthralled body clapped against the soil as the faeries caught sight of the sugar. Sausage-like fingers dug into the dirt and swatched over their lips in pure desperation and bliss. Feigning for the contents, they rushed into the creek, splashing helplessly for more. The ogres were too far gone to notice when a fellow soldier suddenly rose afloat the water, eyes closed and arms sprawled above his head. Seconds later, a second ogre fell, ensuing a loud splash and floated, and then a third and a fourth. I resulted from the shadows of the coppice, approaching the sleeping creatures and reached for my weapon. One by one, I proceeded to puncture the tip of Ferrum into each of their heads. Ogres were always tougher to kill, with brains smaller then peanuts, it took seconds of navigating before skewering the organ. I dragged their inert bodies out of the water and onto the grass, my shifting gear now wet. I reached for the matches in my pocket and lit the creatures on fire. The ashes of the dead folk eventually turned into four oodles of luminous faerie dust. I bagged the innards separately and gazed at the peacefully slumbered Aubrette.

I wondered if in place of the ogres, had it been her instead that I had slaughtered tonight, if I could ever find a way to be content again had I doomed myself to an eternity of self-consuming guilt.

I bent down to wrap my arms underneath her dainty waist and lifted her into my grip. I sucked in my breath when her sallow hair fell behind her, revealing the milky skin of her nape. I knew I could not take her home, for that might have been the most perilous place for her to be in. I also did not care to answer to the voice at the back of my head that insisted, this isn't a good idea.

Instead, I took the girl to the chalet.

Back home, the door was unlocked as usual. The dusky entrance hall bore no light to my relief, masking the half-immortal and I. I marched with the shadows and up to my bedroom, toeing the door open and laying the girl on my cerulean sheets. I couldn't recall the last time I had someone over besides my grandmother. Her powder-white nightshirt was made of silk and drifted slightly above her abdomen revealing small brown freckles that strewed her silky skin.

She was still unconscious, heart-shaped lips parted as her mouth released little breaths of air. What makes her distinguishable beauty is that her angelic features mirror her intent. She is just as good on the inside as she is on the out.

I did not dwell no more. The alloy hardware in my pocket began to buzz altering me that the time was now six am. My father alongside the rest of the town would begin to wake soon. Aubrette would not wake up from her trance, not until a faerie released her from it, or a swatch of salt is swiped across her gums. I left her there and trodded downstairs to my fathers study. With a knock ensued by the metal knocker, I demoed my presence but netted no response. Yoked by a creak, I pushed the wooden gates to reveal my fathers empty office. I placed the four bags of faerie dust at the centre of the table and subconsciously hoped he'd surpass asking questions. I felt the cool of a sudden breeze and gazed at the gaping window, stifling a breathless gasp. Arched on the sill was a horrifying yet enticing creature. Bearing the face of a long-haired women, but the body of an owl, a messenger bird from the folk dropped a papyrus scroll onto the ground. A Sirin. It narrowed its chary eyes at the sight of my intrusion. I took a step forward and the bird unshackled long claret wings and disappeared out from the window and into the swarthy sky.

I had only ever read about the messenger birds in tales of the folklore. I rushed to snatch the scroll from its place. I gently tugged at the strings ensuring it encased.

The message was short, written to address my father.

We mustn't let the queen get to the girl first, or else we are both doomed. Time is running short. Should the girl live, you will lose your revenge forever.

I.U

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