The Tainted Web (The Godhunter, Book 7) (13 page)

I couldn't be like them.

As I rinsed my mouth out at the sink, I tried to banish the images from my head but knew I'd never be able to. I'd always faced death squarely, memorized the faces of those I'd killed, feeling that there should be a price for taking a life. It should never be easy, that path led to numbness, cynicism, or even insanity, and I wasn't willing to travel it. So I remembered each death as a way of honoring my enemies.

This death however, I wanted obliterated from my thoughts. I wanted no part of the memory. It was mine though and the price I'd pay for it would undoubtedly be many sleepless nights at the very least. I could still hear the screaming.

That wasn't even the worst sound I remembered. It was all the other noises that accompanied the screams. The sound of bones being crushed, not broken but crushed. A kind of grating, grinding, crackling sound that made goose flesh run over my skin. The sound of flesh being torn away, not cut cleanly with a blade but torn with claw and beak. A wet, ripping, ricochet that vibrated in your ears. Things popped and squished, lips smacked and voices cackled. A mad circus of sound that my enhanced hearing couldn't block out.

The combination of pain and joy was what proved to be the most unsettling for me. While Kael screamed and begged, the Host danced and flung pieces of his flesh to each other. They laughed at his tears, savoring every drop of blood with curling tongues and widening lips. Teeth gnashed and things spurted between them that I didn't want to give a name to.

I had pulled back to the tree line, mouth hanging open and eyes wide at the truth of what it meant to be fey. This was me, my soul was kin to those who sang in rhymes as they ate the flesh off a man's body. I was a part of this and as much as I'd thought I knew what that meant, as much as I loved these feylings, I wanted nothing to do with it.

Then he found me.

Arach, in a half-form I'd never seen before, had stalked through the trees like a forest god. He was shaped like a human, arms and legs and such, but his face was more dragon than I'd ever seen, with harsh scale-encrusted ridges and horns stabbing through his blood red hair like a mohawk. He had wings, thick and leathery, rising from his shoulders and his naked body gleamed with a generous scattering of brilliant red scales. Behind him, a thick tail trailed, whipping back and forth excitedly.

I'd stared, first in fascination and then in dawning horror when I saw the glow in his slanted eyes. I contemplated running but I knew that would only make it worse, so I stood my ground as he closed the distance between us and pulled me to him with claw-tipped hands.

I tried to reason with him, calm him, but it was like he couldn't hear me, sexual lust coming quickly on the heels of bloodlust, and proving to be a consuming thing. I fought as best I could, even  calling forth my own claws and tearing at him, but he only seemed to enjoy it more, smiling down at me like we were playing some twisted game.

Then I was up against a tree and he was tearing at my clothes, shredding my jeans with his claws as he tore away my top with his teeth. His tongue was longer than it should have been and he used it to taste me from core to neck, biting at my jaw as he made his way to my lips. I bit back at him but he just laughed.

Something slid between my legs, snaking along my thigh before parting my flesh, and I shuddered, realizing it was his tail. It slid against me and I finally lost it, screaming and fighting him until my lioness took over, reminding me that I was not a woman to submit to such treatment. I lifted my head and a deafening roar silenced the night.

He pulled away, staring at me with a horrifying comprehension, as his body shifted back to his normal form. He was shaking, sweat dripping off of him, and he huffed breaths like he'd been running for miles. The cords were standing out on his neck, his muscles bulging, and his hands clenching into fists that dripped blood onto the forest floor.

“
Change,” he gasped out, “Shift to lioness and run, Vervain!”

And I had.

I began to cry into the stream of water that poured from the bright gold faucet. I knew Arach waited on the other side of the bathroom door, hopefully in control of his dragon again. I should go out there and face him but I couldn't. I turned the water off and sank to the floor instead.

I held my hands out in front of me, hands that should have been covered in blood for their part in the hunt, and they were shaking. I hadn't taken part. Even the bloodlust of my dragon couldn't compel me to participate in that useless torture. Yes, Kael had tried to kill me, had succeeded in killing three of my people, and I felt his death was justified but that, the gory disaster that would haunt me forever, was not justice. My near rape hadn't even disturbed me as much as Kael's execution had. No, not execution, his mutilation... his obliteration.

When the Host had finished, there was nothing left of Kael but a pile of bones, cracked and crushed. I don't think there was even any marrow left inside them. The Host had been famished, longing for the kill that had finally been provided for them, and they'd savored it completely.

With the kelpie's fey immortality, he stayed alive through most of it, screaming until his lungs were finally punctured and the only sounds he could make were wheezing moans. I swallowed back bile as I saw the fleshless body again, bones held together by sinews, and still those bright eyes stared at me, begging me to end it. It didn't end though, not for hours. They made sure Kael kept his head and was not touched by fire. They wanted him alive as long as possible, to sweeten their revenge.

“Vervain?” Arach's voice drifted through the thick door and I jerked my head in his direction. “Please come out. I'm sorry I lost myself back there. My dragon thinks of you as his mate and when the need for blood was sated, other needs arose. I know that was not what you expected. I can't even imagine what it looked like to someone raised human but it's not as bad as it appeared.”

“
Not as bad...” I whispered in horror.

A memory of Arach's dragon form flashed through my mind. He held back a lot, allowing his people most of the fun, but he was given the kill. It was his fire that finally ended Kael's existence and added the smell of roasting meat to the scent of blood and bowels. I scrunched my face up against the memory and covered it with my hands as an added defense.

Arach hadn't been the only one aroused by it all either. Most of the fey had fallen upon each other in the aftermath and when I'd made my mad dash back to the castle, it had been past fornicating faeries covered in blood. Even the damn pixies were fucking.

“
Vervain, please,” he sounded tired and it was finally what got through to me. “I truly am sorry. I fought my nature for you and that's not an easy thing for me.”

I got up and took a deep breath before opening the door and looking him over. He was perfect, not a single hair out of place, not a smear of blood to betray his recent activities. He smelled fresh and his cheeks were flushed. His eyes however, were worried.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“
Am I
alright
?”

I walked past him to the window and stared out at the lights of Faerie. It wasn't nearly as bright as the Human Realm out there but there were soft glows all over the forest, brighter ones to the three corners, where the other elemental kingdoms lay. It was soothing to see, everything soft and sleepy, murmuring in the moments before the oblivion of rest. Out there were happy faeries, snuggling down in their beds and holding their loved ones close.

I had a flash of the pixies then.

Of all the horrible things I'd witnessed; the Hidden Ones feasting, the leanan-sidhe gorging themselves on blood, the goblins filling their mouths with flesh, it was the little pixie men climbing over that body and tearing into it with fierce pride that was the worst. Their joy went beyond the kill, they rejoiced not only in torturing the fey who murdered their people, but in being included in the Wild Hunt for the first time ever.

It was the one thing about the night that had struck a chord of empathy with me. I understood their delight, I rejoiced with them that they were finally fully a part of the House of Fire, and that acceptance, that understanding, damaged me the most. I wanted to run screaming from the Kingdom of Fire, from Faerie and all its inhabitants, for good.

“
A Thaisce,” Arach laid his hands upon my shoulders and I flinched. He felt it, tightened his hands in response, and refused to let go. “You must accept this. It's a part of who you are. The violence was necessary. Revenge could not be attained without it. Our people needed this release and although it may seem senseless to you, there is a purpose to it.”

“
What?” I turned to face him, dislodging his hands for a second before they returned determinedly. “What was the purpose of that?”

“
Magic,” he whispered. “Every community must have rules. Ours is based on magic and the magic is tied not only to us but to the land itself. Every living thing in Faerie is a part of this magic.”

“
You're saying that Kael unbalanced the magic and therefore all of Faerie?” Oh, I wanted to understand this, please let there be a way to give this horror some meaning.

“
No, it wasn't unbalanced yet,” Arach sighed, “but it could have resulted in such, were it left unpunished.”

“
How so?”

“
If Kael had been left unpunished, it would have been felt. The land, the very bones of Faerie, would have twisted a little, allowing for new seeds to bloom. The seed of doubt, the seed of malice, evil seeds for an evil crop. Others would begin to wonder why they didn't try their hand at regicide. Unrest would fester, both in those who felt wronged by Kael and those who may wish for a different position. That would breed further discontent and this evil would poison Faerie until we all turned into a dark, distrusting race, intent on killing each other for power.”

“
So killing Kael stopped this?”

“
No, killing Kael in such a way that the rest of Faerie lay trembling in their beds for fright of the same fate, stopped this,” Arach had a grim set to his jaw. “We fire fey serve a purpose, there is always a reason for magic and ours is to serve justice, to keep the balance. We were made to delight in blood, in pain, because if we were not, we could not do our duty to Faerie. The price of this is we grow restless in times of peace and must seek other outlets for our pleasures,” his hand stroked lightly down my arm and I realized with a start, that he still had his dragon claws. The tips of them trailed lightly over my skin in a wicked caress. “Considering that our people have had to go without a Hunt for such a long time, I think they performed well within expectations tonight. Please, Vervain, look past your human ideals of right and wrong and just feel the magic of Faerie. It will tell you the truth in my words.”

I frowned and pulled away from him. Was it true? Did the Wild Hunt perform a service necessary to the survival of Faerie? Were they made to love their duty so they would not suffer? So they wouldn't stand where I stood, facing the horror of what they'd done.

I let go of the tight hold I kept on my magic, a hold I hadn't realized I'd tightened during the Hunt, and let it reach out to Faerie. I felt an answering lightness, a tingling on my skin that turned into a delving warmth. It spread through me, calming my anxieties and easing the trauma the night had brought. I was finally able to take a full breath.

He was right, Faerie needed him, needed the Hunt. She called to him like a lover, stroking along his skin and permeating his bones with its essence. I could see it clearly when I was connected to her, could see that I'd been the only thing in Faerie not connected to her magic. I'd denied her after Arach's betrayal, refused to let her back in fully, and she had suffered from my rejection. I had suffered from it.

I started to shake as the tears tumbled down my cheeks. My eternal lesson seemed to be about acceptance. I needed to accept myself as well as those around me. I couldn't be complete without that acceptance but I couldn't accept what I didn't know. I needed to find out who I was before I allowed myself to be that person and although Arach insisted I was fully sidhe, Faerie knew better.

Faerie not only welcomed me home, acknowledging me as kin as well as heir to a legacy of fire and fury, but insisted that this was not all I was. My soul may be pure sidhe but I was more than a soul. I was blood, bones, flesh, and breath... and there was magic in that as well. I was fully sidhe but I was also fully human and fully goddess. The triple aspect I'd become appealed to Faerie. She liked me.

I was a new creature, one she coveted and would do anything to protect. She showed me the small machinations she'd set into motion to safeguard me. How she'd kept Dubheasa unaware of the only way to kill me, how she had lured the Water Queen into action at a time and place where all of the other royals would be there to aid me. Faerie wanted me, enough to depose a Queen, but she also wanted me happy. She wanted me whole, because without that, I was useless to her, just another broken human.

I gasped and looked up at Arach with sudden understanding. He looked hopeful for a second but then he saw the full weight of my knowledge and his concern returned. Rightly so, because although I was honored and humbled by Faerie's desire for me, by what she'd done to protect me, I was scared by it too.