Chapter 5
Time slowed down to an infinite crawl as sticky, wet warmth cascaded down my back. Shocking pain robbed my lungs of breath as I planted a steadying hand on the pavement. In a stunned state of disbelief, I placed my palm to my back.
Gasping out a sharp cry, I immediately regretted the decision. Jerking my hand back, I could see it was covered in inky darkness. Blood. Lots of blood. It made the air smell metallic.
I’d been . . . stabbed.
Holy shit, I’d been stabbed!
Snapping out of the shock, I lurched to my feet and spun just in time to see the moonlight reflect off a gnarly looking blade arcing high above me.
Instinct took over.
I caught the attacker by the arm and twisted. The crack of bone didn’t fill me with glee like it normally would, because the movement tore at my side, sending another wave of blistering pain through my body. I stumbled in its wake just as the fae fell forward, dropping the blade as it cradled its broken arm to a chest—a large chest.
The fae was female.
“You stabbed me!” I gasped out.
She lifted her head just as I slammed my knee into her chin, snapping her head back. She toppled backward, either knocked out or dead by the time she landed on her back.
I reached to my waist for a dagger, only remembering quickly that I had no weapons. We’d promised not to carry them. Dammit all to—
A body slammed into my back, taking me down into the nearby bush. Landing on my back, a scream punched out of me, ripping through the night air. My entire body went stiff with pain, and for a second, only a damn second, I was immobile.
And it was a second too long.
I was flipped onto my stomach. Weight landed on me. Knees dug into my back as I crashed through thick leaves and flowers. Dirt and branches dug into my face as hands forced my head down. Mouth open, I dragged in dirt and God knows what else as I screamed in rage.
I knew better. I knew better. The words kept recycling. There were two fae, maybe more, and I turned my damn back on at least one of them. Twice. So stupid—deadly stupid. I knew better.
I struggled to lift my head out of the dirt, managing to take in a gulp of clean air a moment before my face was slammed down once more with excessive force. Wet warmth exploded across my face, filling my mouth as I reached around, trying to grab one of the hands that were bound and determined to smother me in a damn butterfly bush.
“Just let go,” the voice said into my ear. “Just let go and make this easier on yourself.”
Letting go meant being suffocated in a bush and that was just not how I wanted to leave this world, so that was going to be a big fat nope.
“I can’t let you live,” he continued. “I have my family to think about. We have this community to protect.”
Lifting my legs up, I slammed my hands into the bush—through the bush—and pushed myself up with every ounce of strength I had in me. Space between the ground and me grew. Digging in, I grunted as I flipped my body.
The fae went along for the ride until he slid off my back, taking me with him. I landed on his chest. Both of us were stunned for a moment. Then I sprang into action. Lifting my right arm, I brought my elbow down, jabbing the bastard in the side. A rib gave way. Maybe two.
He grunted, arms falling to his sides. Rolling off him, I scrambled sideways, leaping to my feet as I lifted my hands.
Oh shit.
My eyes widened as I stared at my left hand. There was a branch—a mother-loving branch—imbedded clean through the center of my hand!
“Oh my God!” I shouted as I reached with my good hand, gripping one bloody end. “Holy shit, there’s a branch in my hand!”
“Should’ve been in your head,” the fae muttered.
“Rude,” I gasped.
The fae whirled to his feet, moving insanely fast. I didn’t get a chance to pull the branch out, so I stepped to the side and swung my hand out without thinking. My branch-hand slammed into the fae’s face. He fell to the side, taking me with him. I landed on my knees. The fae howled as blood poured out of his gaping mouth.
“Sweet Jesus,” I groaned. My branch-hand had missed his eye, but my hand was now attached to his cheek. The branch had gone through his cheek.
So freaking gross.
Tearing my branch-hand free, I climbed to my feet and grabbed one end of the branch. Dizziness rolled through me as I stepped back. I yanked the branch free, screaming as the burn spread all the way up my arm. Nausea twisted up my stomach.
Once I had the branch out, I tossed it aside. A moment later, the damn fae was on his feet, his face bloody. “Good God,” I exclaimed, lowering my ruined hand. “Your face is disgusting.”
The fae let out a roar and charged me. I darted to the side. Or thought I did, but my reflexes were dull. He caught my left hand and squeezed. Rage and pain powered through me. I drew him forward, bringing my knee up at the same time. I caught him in the midsection, but it barely winded him. With his free arm, he backhanded me straight into next week.
I fell, cracking down on one knee. “Shit.”
When was the last time a normal fae had knocked me around like that? I couldn’t remember. It had to be years.
The next blow almost put me flat on my back, but I pushed through it, regaining my footing. The fae and I went toe to toe, and with no true weapon like an iron dagger, it was going to require creativity and strength to outlast the fae.
But my steps were too slow. The kicks I delivered lacked any real power. Even my punches were weak and off. The time out of training and combat had taken its toll. I wasn’t prepared. My head wasn’t in the right place.
That was why I was getting my ass kicked by a normal fae.
Each hit I took either broke skin or my will. Each new burst of pain seemed shockingly too real. Each time I got knocked down, it was harder to get back up.
But I did.
I kept getting back up.
Dragging myself to my feet, I wiped the blood out of my eyes. Well, one eye. The other was swelling and blurring. Only a handful of minutes had passed since I literally got stabbed in the back, but my muscles felt like lead and my bones felt brittle.
And I was still bleeding.
Whatever noise we were making was lost in whatever damn enchantment the fae had on the courtyard. My feet were heavy as I shuffled off the pathway, closer to the entrance.
Ren and Tink were just mere yards away, but they could be in another city for all it mattered.
Breathing heavy, I whirled around, searching for some weapon. The knife was lost in the darkness, beside the still prone female fae.
“You grow tired.” Blood and spittle dripped from the fae’s mouth. “You grow weaker with every passing second. How you’ve fought our kind and survived all these years is beyond me.”
“Screw you,” I bit out, swaying. Or maybe it was the courtyard that was moving. I had no idea. That statement just pissed me off, but he was right. Focus, Ivy. I had to be smart. I was weak and tired, and backup was currently chilling, having a lovely evening. I wasn’t going to win this. No way.
I was going to have to tuck tail and run.
“You have to die.” The fae’s words were mushy. “It’s nothing personal. You just need to die and then the Prince won’t come for you.”
“Dying sounds pretty personal to me.” The back of my neck tickled. I thought I heard movement in the courtyard.
The fae attacked.
Dipping to avoid a mean uppercut, I shifted my weight and kicked out with my foot. I landed the maneuver, swiping the bastard’s legs right out from underneath him. He went down in a fleshy smack, and I didn’t waste time.
I snatched up a heavy river rock and brought it down on the side of his head with everything I had in me. The sickening crunch rattled my entire body. Falling onto my side, I dropped the bloodied rock.
Breathing heavy, I squeezed my eyes against the topsy-turvey the courtyard was currently doing as I sat back—fell back—onto my butt. In my chest, it felt like my heart was . . . stuttering.
Okay.
I needed to get up.
I needed to get inside and find . . . I needed to find Ren. I had to tell him . . . What did I have to tell him? Everything. I had to tell him everything.
My head was swimming, and I was lying flat on my back. How did that happen? I wasn’t sure, but I knew if I kept lying here, I wasn’t getting back up.
I would die.
You are dying. The voice that whispered in my thoughts was a shock to my system. I was . . . I was dying. All the sticky blood covered my entire body. There couldn’t be much left.
Blinking slowly, I drew in a shuddering breath. This was my own doing. I hadn’t been in any shape to fight. Not eating right. Not sleeping. I should’ve been paying attention. I should’ve known. That was an amateurish mistake, just like all those years ago when I killed the fae before I’d been authorized to. I’d gotten everyone killed and now . . . now I’d gotten myself killed.
No.
I wasn’t dying. I was just . . . sleepy.
I could sleep. Ren would find me. I would wake up and he’d be here. So, I did sleep. I think I did. At least for a little while.
But then air caught in my throat and my eyes fluttered open. The stars shone brightly. I was still here. I was alone. No Ren, no Tink. My head lolled to the right. The fae was still here, though, and by the looks of it, he was super dead.
I was alive.
Relief gave way to a keen sense of disappointment I didn’t understand, but couldn’t focus on at the moment, because I needed to get up. If I didn’t, who would watch out for Tink? Ren would, but he’d blame himself.
I couldn’t let that happen.
Lurching to my feet, I teetered unsteadily until I got myself turned around. I walked back toward the doors, except it felt like I was wading through quicksand and I wasn’t making much progress at all. No, it was slow and uneven, and the entire world kept blinking in and out. I tripped over stones, gritting my teeth as I forced one leg in front of the other. If I could just get to the doors, get inside, and get to Ren . . .
Rounding the corner, I stumbled onto the pathway and reached out, gripping the vine-covered trellis. The soft glow of the lobby lights seeped over the pathway. The doors were right there. I swallowed down the taste of blood and kept going, my steps turning sluggish.
Ren. Ren. Ren. I chanted his name. I was almost there. Just a little bit more to go. My hands were numb. I’d lost feeling in them, but that was okay, because my feet were still working. Just a little bit further. . . .
A shadow appeared in the double doors and it grew closer. The shadow became a more distinctive shape and then the shape became a person.
“Ren,” I called out, but it was only a wet whisper. I tried again, but now there was no sound.
He appeared as if he’d been summoned by my chants, and maybe he had, because the doors were opening and he was walking outside, his gaze sweeping over the courtyard.
I knew the moment he saw me.
He drew up short. “Ivy?”
And I knew the moment the light from inside reached me.
I opened my mouth, but my tongue didn’t work.
“Ivy!” Panic filled his voice as Ren broke into a run, his feet pounding off the pavement.
Something landed on my back, between my shoulder blades. Something sharp and hot and it took whatever air was left in my lungs. Stole what strength I had left.
I went down, but I didn’t feel the impact. The fury rolled off Ren in waves, filling the courtyard and overshadowing everything else. He was a blur, shooting past me.
My cheek was suddenly resting against the cool stone. I couldn’t feel my feet any longer. That was probably bad, but I wasn’t thinking about that anymore anyway. There was a sharp cry, and a body landed next to mine, the head twisted at an unnatural angle. It was her—the female fae.
I hadn’t killed her.
Stupid, stupid me.
Another ridiculous, amateurish error.
“Ivy. Come on, Ivy.” Gentle hands turned me over, onto my back. “Jesus Christ.”
The tone of his voice told me I should be worried, but I couldn’t find it in me to dredge up those emotions.
A hand cradled the back of my head. “Sweetness, look at me. Please.” He lifted me, and I was weightless. Floating. “Dammit, open your eyes and look at me.”
I wasn’t looking at him?
Forcing my eyes open, I found myself staring into Ren’s striking face. Those vibrant eyes were dark in the moonlight, wide and endless. He was so very pale and there was so much darkness crowding his features. “I’m . . .”
“Don’t try to talk,” he said, and he was moving fast, practically flying. “Just hang in there, Ivy. Keep your eyes open and on me, okay? Stay with me.”
But I had to. I had to say it. “I’m . . . sorry.”