The Ravaged Fairy (11 page)

Nerves made his stomach flip. He stood in
front of the mirror and gazed at the giant gold wings on his back. It felt
right, like the world was once again spinning on its axis. Thame never thought
twice about his wings, but now doubt lined his face. Would Breena like them?
Would she accept him as a fairy and not a human? He hadn’t attempted to fly yet.
Brielle finished the last healing session nearly two days ago.

 Yes, he’d been standing there staring at
his reflection for nearly four hours. Scars now marred his back but other than
that he should still be attractive to a human. The only opinion he cared about
was Breena’s. Sweet Goddess, when had he ever been this nervous over anything?
Well he couldn’t fly back yet and this war was long from over. Seeing Breena
again would have to wait.

The delay was killing his good mood. A twenty-four
hour erection would do that to a man. He rubbed one off last night, picturing
her bare breasts beneath his mouth, but when the sun lifted into the sky so did
his cock. He lifted the loincloth that now donned his hips. Sure enough, his
thick dick was curved and reaching upward like a low cloud searching for the
sky. He grabbed the base and tightly rubbed the entire length of his arousal.
His hips jerked and pleasure swarmed through his balls.

Three rough knocks sounded on his door
and he lowered the loincloth over his raging erection then answered. Before him
stood Mord, his face grim, wings lowered.

“I was busy and did not get a chance to
see how you fared.”

 Mord was always too busy trying to solve
every problem in the kingdom. “Brielle healed me up quite nicely.” Thame
shifted so his big golden wings could be viewed. “She’s one hell of a healer. An
amazing woman.” Who seemed to get sadder every time he saw her.

“She is.”

Thame gestured for the fairy to enter but
he shook his head. Long blond hair feathered from the knot on his head.

“I must return. I was just concerned for
you.”

“I am well. Ready to kill some trolls.” A
small smile lingered on his face. There would be no mercy wiping the bastards
from the face of earth.

 Mord returned the violent grin. “The
next time I see one, I’ll send him right to you.”

“Deal.” He nodded once. The other man
walked off. Thame glanced longingly at the sky. The air was chilled today,
clouds dotting the sky like a leaking canvas.

***

Breena stood in the doorway staring at
the broken bed with a depression lingering. She was miserable at first but as
the days passed, anger began to stir. Thame should have, at the very least,
called. He knew where she lived, and it had been a full week without word. She truly
missed him. The window in the room was in the process of being fixed. As of
right now, it was a sheet of plastic over the gaping hole. Breena ripped the
stuff loose and let the cooled evening air rush into the room. Her jeans and
t-shirt were little resistance to the chill and goose bumps decorated her pale
skin.

“Why so sad?” Gran whispered from the
door.

“Not sad, just thinking.” She turned and
faced the woman that raised her. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

“I told you not to let your eyes wander.
He’s bad news.”

She was holding something back. Breena
knew by the tone and the fact that Gran loved to gossip as much as she loved to
knit. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Men are idiots.”

Breena snorted. “He’s different.” At
least, she hoped he was. Gran’s eyes darted outside, and she frowned. With a
quick check, she noted the rise in shadows but nothing else. “What’s wrong?”

She held up one finger and rushed from
the room. In the distance, she locked doors and slammed windows shut then
rushed into the kitchen. “Get away from the window!”

“Why? What’s going on?” Breena checked
the shadows once more, but there was nothing out there.

“Iníon, you know the superstitious
folklore around here about fairies, trolls and banshees.”

Breena nodded. “Of course.”

 Gran revealed a box of salt and ripped
off the plastic cover. “Well, they’re real, I’m part troll and they’re about to
attack the house.”

Well, Gran had finally lost it. What
would Breena do without her wit and blunt wisdom? “Listen Gran, we’ll take you
to see the doc.” Her heart ached; this was her Gran, the woman who raised her.
She couldn’t go nuts. She deserved a pedestal and anything desired.

She walked up to Breena and gently patted
her cheek. “Duck.”

“Duck?”

“Duck.”

Breena watched with wide eyes as she
threw the salt through the open window. It blew in the window and fell on the
bushed outside like an attempt at snow. The sight would have been pretty if it
wasn’t for the god-awful scream that pierced the night. The bush shivered and
something ran from cover howling to the setting sun.

“Grab more salt and make sure everything
is shut.”

Breena wanted to argue but she was still
trying to unravel what just happened. Her feet were leaden as she moved to the
kitchen and shoved open the cabinet. They always had a ton of salt in the house.
Did Gran always fear trolls attacking? Seriously?

Gran yelled and she ran to the door was a
bottle of salt in each hand. What she saw next had her mouth flopping open. This
short ugly thing tried to leap through the window. It screamed, grabbed its
pocked face the moment Gran threw salt at it. “What the fook!”

“Watch your mouth, Iníon!” she scolded
and grabbed the bottle in her left hand. A window broke; she heard the familiar
crash of shattering glass and turned in time to see a short blur with sharp
teeth run through the kitchen and down the hall. “Well, fook me.” Gran
exclaimed and Breena couldn’t agree more.

***

Thame stared straight at the big petals
of the giant sunflower. His wings were proudly displayed and fully healed, but
now came the true test. The first flight and that sunflower looked an awfully
high climb. In the past, he never doubted himself. There was no point starting
it now. He forced his wings to move.

It was similar to moving fingers or toes
in synchrony. Just the thought sent his wings into motion and his feet lifted
off the ground. There was a slight sting in his back but nothing he couldn’t
handle. His eyes remained on the yellow petal edge, and it slowly inched closer.
Sweat began to bead his forehead. His hands clenched into fists and a throbbing
began in his temple. He surpassed even his high expectations and passed the
flower. Pushing harder and flying higher, he finally reached the thin
transparent barrier that separated the two worlds. Thame landed on the surface
in a patch of three leaf clovers. Blood rushed through his veins as his quick
breath began to ease.

“Impressive.” Mord spoke from beneath the
willow tree. His blond hair loose and the ends curled without restraint.

Thame nodded, his back stiff from disuse.
However, his feet were steady as he shuffled forward and sat beside him. That
took more out of him than he would ever admit.

“Looks like cold weather is on its way.”

He glanced at the muddled blue sky. Winter
was always mild here but the group of gray clouds did give off an ominous feel.
“I like the snow. It’s easier to track.” It always made the hum of the distant
ocean muffled and enhanced the natural sounds around them. “Where’s Brielle?
She’d love this view.” The sun began to fall toward the horizon.

“Home. I just came here to think.” He
turned toward Thame. “I’m trying to convince King Carrick that we need to take
more drastic measures. The queen is not yet with child.”

“What measures?”

“We can’t wait for the women to stumble
upon us. We should go out, gather those that can see us and return them here.
They could have a wonderful life here with us.” Mord shook his head in disgust.
“We’re dying out and the King is only thinking with his heart.”

Thame frowned. “I think when the time is
right, we will find our female match.”

 “That’s not good enough.” His voice rose
then his shoulder slouched as if he was defeated in a major battle. “How long
will we have to wait? Five years or twenty or one hundred?”

“I don’t think it will be that long.
Finding the Queen has started a chain reaction, it seems.”

“What do you mean?”

Thame hesitated. He was not the sharing
type but it would be known soon enough. “I found my female, I think.”

“The woman that saved you?”

Thame squinted. “How are you aware of
that?”

“Wick gossips like a woman.”

Thame snorted. Wick did indeed. “First
the king, now me, I do believe soon the others will follow.”

“...and what of Brielle and me? Or Flance
and Bray?”

“That I do not know.” Would their
connection become stronger when the others began to mate? Would anything help
them create a child? “Nothing but time will tell.”

Mord shook his head, looking as lost as a
child in the forest. “I must return...”

Thame simply nodded and watched the fairy
fly down and out of sight. Mord was taking the whole kingdom on his shoulders. No
wonder the man was stressed and ignoring Brielle. Once things settled down with
Breena, he’d address that issue. Brielle was like a sister to him and her
unhappiness dulled her glow. He wanted her as happy as she could possibly be. She
deserved it.

There was a swift blur of blue and Thame
knew it was Whisper but on instinct, he extracted the sword from his hip. It
was the best move he ever made.

 “Watch your back!” The words were deep
and growly.

While Whisper leapt into the surrounding
forest, a troll charged its hideous hide toward him. He was about to find out
if revenge was sweet.

Chapter Eight

Thame’s sword clashed with the blood-crusted
blade of the troll. Dark flecks sprinkled the ground from the impact. It hissed
with its fangs bared. He showed his own straight, white teeth and lifted the
dagger from his belt. In seconds, the weapon broke through the rough skin of the
trolls stomach. Warm blood gushed. It shrieked loudly, a high-pitched wail as he
dragged the blade across its throat.

Thame would never be a victim again.

A line of trolls ran over the nearest
hill, the grass was dotted with these ugly things and the weapons they wield.
He roared, loud enough to alert the others and hopefully, instill some fear
into the disgusting creatures.

The moment they reached the bottom of the
small hill, two were met with a blur of blue and fell to their knees clasping
their spurting necks. He was damn glad Whisper was on their side.

His sword rose, he kept the dagger at hip
level as two approached him. He lunged, striking each with a weapon and left both
of them bleeding. He twisted away from the jabs, nearly dancing on his toes to
keep these two at bay. His back hindered every movement. It frustrated him to
no end as he shifted and barely missed the tip of the enemy’s blade.

Pissed, Thame charged them. His sword
connected with the one on the right, his dagger the left. He kicked to the
left. When it hunched over, he used his sword to slash the left ones head clean
off its shoulders. Then he spun, slammed the sword into a gut and jammed his
dagger straight down into its curved back. It went down without a whimper. He
turned to the others, ready to exact more fortifying revenge. There was no
chance. Five trolls lay dead around him. He couldn’t help but think once again
that Whisper was one scary son of a banshee. He turned, sword shifting into
defensive stance.

The King stood at the edge of the mini
battle, hands on his hips with Wick and Flance beside him. “It seems my rush to
get here was for naught.”

“Blame the blue-headed freak.” Thame
murmured and heard a snort from the nearest shadow.

“This one’s alive.” Flance had moved a
few steps from the king’s side, kneeling down beside a pile of marred flesh.

Instantly, a sword was at its throat.
Whisper growled and revealed two oddly pointed teeth. They looked like canine
teeth. Why did he have fangs? “Wait!” If he had been a moment slower with the
word, it would have been too late. Thame walked to the gasping troll as Whisper
grudgingly removed the blade from its bleeding throat. He looked at King
Carrick who nodded. “Why did you bother attacking us?” It wasn’t like the
trolls to attack in such few numbers. They were cowards.

It shifted, made a move to slam sharp
teeth into Thame’s leg. Moving no more than an inch before Whisper shoved a
small but effective dagger through hits hand. It shrieked and tried to pull out
the blade only to receive another in the other hand. This time it cried out but
stilled.

“Why did you attack us?”

Its black eyes jerked to Whisper who
shifted closer to the shadows. “Decoy...”

Thame had that bad feeling rise swiftly
through his gut. “A decoy for what?” When it didn’t answer Whisper took a step
closer. It sputtered and turned its attention fully to Thame.