Page 6 of A Touch Of Death

I turn with a grin plastered on my face, only to find Nix in the form of a Fennec Fox. His fur is white as snow, instead of the usual tan and white colouring most Fennec Foxes have. His blue eyes stand out more against his fur, and his fluffy tail swishes as he watches me. I don't know how he does it, but even in his small fox form, he looks as sheepish as he would as a man.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't see you here to save you the embarrassment. But seriously? Climbing through your own window? I question your intelligence sometimes," I whisper, snickering quietly when the little fox rolls his eyes at me. I mean, it’s his room. He could have just walked straight in here, and we wouldn’t have questioned him. He narrows his eyes at me, and a thought spills into my head.

Don't you dare tell Spencer and Ezra, or I'll chew the shit out of all your shoes.

"Consider me warned. Try not to wake the fae, though. She needs her rest. And if I assume correctly, you'll be staying here for the remainder of your time, so I suppose you can alert us when she wakes up." I give him half a grin before heading towards the door, bending slightly to give the fox a scratch on his head.

Just before I leave the room, I catch Nix jumping onto the bed and curling into a ball on the pillow next to the fae's head. I guess he's feeling the bond harder than the rest of us. It would make sense given his shifter nature. Mating bonds are always strongest with shifters. Seeing as though Nix is, in a sense, a jack of all trades, it must have been a little more difficult to leave the fae alone. Being able to turn into more than one animal would give his mating senses a stronger pull, I'm sure. Well, given that I'm right, and the tether she created really is a mating bond.

Naturals all have a mating bond of some sort, except for demons. I’ve never heard of a demon with a mating bond, and Ezra has never mentioned it before, so I assume they’re the only race without the ability to forge a bond like that.

I shut the door with a soft click of the latch and head to my room. Instead of catching up on sleep like the others, I move towards the large wall length bookshelf that lines the right side of my room. I scour the large collection I've accumulated over the years and spot the one I'm looking for. It's a very thick book, one on the various types of Naturals. Like a Supernatural Thesaurus. It contains species that have long been extinct, tales of Naturals that were said to roam the Earth but had never been documented, and the lists of Naturals that currently exist.

I pull the book from the shelf and head to my desk, placing the book down with care. The book is ancient, the cover and spine tattered and scuffed in places. The pages are worn and yellowing, the crisp paper fragile and easy to tear. Thanks to the witch who owned the book before me, there's a spell in place that keeps the entire book together. The book won't break, regardless of how easily breakable it looks. The witch also spelled the book to automatically add new species when they appear or adjust entries when a species dies out. I'm in possession of the only book in the world that holds the entire history of species of Naturals. It wasn't cheap, but after living for so long and accumulating a great deal of money, it was worth every penny I spent on it.

I flick through the pages, taking care in every turn of the paper despite knowing it won’t break. I stop when I reach the section I'm looking for. It's the section that appeared five years ago when all the fae disappeared. I skim the page, running over the words I've read a hundred times since then. The last paragraph gives me pause as it has every other time I've read this very passage:

'And so a new story begins. The prophesied will return, a being born of life and death, who lives with the earth and spirits. With the return of the blessed being will bring the hope for supernaturals of all kinds, for the last fae will hold the only chance of survival. Our only chance at salvation.'

I pause, then reread the paragraph. The last fae? As far as we're aware, the last fae currently sleeps in the room across my own, tucked away in Nix's bed. Unless there are others that we don't know about. Perhaps many of them went into hiding, and fae aren't truly extinct. Just because they haven't been seen in five years, it’s not to say they're all gone.

My eyebrows furrow in confusion, and I carefully close the book, resting my hand on the front cover. If the race of the fae has been diminished, and the only living fae resides in Nix's room, would that mean this passage is about her? Is she the being born of life and death? But what could that possibly mean? Life and death, earth and spirit. I’ve been around for decades, ten years short of a century, but that doesn’t make sense to me. We need answers, fast. As much as I'd like the fae to take all the time she needs to rest, I really hope she wakes soon, so I get the answers I need.

Chapter 4

Novia

I wakeup slowly, my eyelids feeling like they're made of sandpaper and my mouth as dry as cotton. Dread pools heavily in my stomach with the prospect that I'm going to wake up to see my family and friends still lying in their cages, lifeless eyes wide open and mouths parted in shock just before they died. I squeeze my eyes tighter and pull the comforter closer to my chest, the warmth comforting me instantly.

Wait, what?

My eyes fly open, and I suck in a sharp intake of air. Where the hell am I? Panic begins to sharpen my mind when I don't recognise anything in the room I'm in. The walls are coloured a soft beige, with shelves filled with a random assortment of knick-knacks. There's a desk against the wall opposite the bed, stacked books, papers, and stationary. This obviously isn't my cell, and it clearly doesn't look like a prison. In fact, the room feels kind of homey and lived in.

The curtains are open, showing the beginnings of a sunset. I wrack my brain, trying to conjure my most recent memories. I had escaped the facility, and I was running through the forest but Davis caught up to me, and... was there a waterfall? I think I jumped. Did that really happen?

Slowly, I move the comforter away from me and go to check my left shoulder for the dart I vaguely remember Davis shooting me with. When I look down, my body is covered in a large dark grey shirt. With furrowed eyebrows, I move the neckline over slightly until it falls off my left shoulder, and I check the bare skin that shows. Sure enough, there's a small mark embedded into my shoulder where the dart used to be. That would mean I really did jump off the cliff. How didn't I die, then? How could I still be alive? That jump should have killed me, without a doubt. That was no small waterfall I’d jumped into.

With that thought, more memories assault my frazzled mind. Falling into the water, but unable to feel the impact completely thanks to the tranq dart. Drowning in the water, unable to find which way was up, thrashing through the water helplessly. And then nothing. Just a wide expanse of emptiness.

A flicker of a dream awakens in my head; me staring into a set of ocean blue eyes, hearing his deep, warm voice asking if I minded being saved. It sounded like he was being playful, so I returned with calling him my hero. Could that have really happened? It feels like it did, but my memories are hazy, like film pulled from an old camera reel.

But if it's not real, where am I? Whose room am I in, and how did I get here?

Movement on the pillow next to my head has me jerking back wide-eyed. Atop lies a fox, the white fur that covers its body almost blending into the colour of the pillowcase. His little nose twitches, and his big rounded ears perk up high on his head. What kind of fox is that? A Fennec? Am I recognising that correctly? At this point, I couldn't care less. I'm in an unknown location, in a room I've never seen before with a fox lying on a pillow next to me. I think I have bigger things I need to concern myself with.

The little fox in question snaps his eyes open, and a pair of...ocean coloured eyes stare back at me. Those are the same eyes of the stranger in my dream. Could... this be the same person? My slow brain suddenly remembers other Naturals exist, and I catch on to what I'm seeing. A shifter. He'd be the first I've ever seen, considering I've been captured since I was eighteen, and my father never let me leave the resort before then. The only other Naturals I've known are fae, my people.

A sharp pang hits me in my chest with the reminder of what happened to the people I've known all my life, my friends and neighbours. My father and sister. I snap that box closed, tacking a padlock onto it and shoving it far back into my brain before I think any more of it. I need to figure out where I am and where to go next before Davis catches up to me, before I break down and drown in my grief for my lost family and race.

The fox eyes me warily, but there's a certain warmth in its eyes. His ears twitch, and he slowly shuffles on all fours across the pillow until his small black nose touches my own.

"WeIl, I suppose this is an unusual way to wake up," I tell him with a rasp caused by a dry throat, watching him cross-eyed. Up close, I can see his eyes are a beautiful shade of blue with a sapphire ring on the outer irises. They're a few shades darker than my left eye, that I know to be a light blue with the same deeper blue hues around the iris. There are two jagged marks that run through his right eyebrow, or what would be his eyebrow if I were looking at a human face.

He huffs a breath that sounds strangely similar to a laugh. How peculiar. We eye each other quietly. My breathing is slow and steady, and I realise I'm not in the least bit afraid. I've found myself in a new place with no recollection of how I came to be here, with a shifter lying in the bed with me while we stare at each other. I'm waiting for the sudden rise of panic and fear to emerge, but all I feel is...well, safe. Comforted. I haven't felt the least bit safe in five long, miserable years, so it's a strange feeling to be had in the home of a stranger. But somehow, in the depths of my heart, I know this shifter won’t hurt me.

That thought alone has a frown pulling at my eyebrows. How can I possibly feel safe here? I don't even know where here is. What if this is all a trick? What if Davis caught me, and I've been kidnapped to a different facility? But why would they put in so much effort to make the room comfortable? Why dress me in a large man’s shirt, no less? Things aren't adding up, and I need answers.

The little fox notices the change in my mood instantly. He nudges my nose with his own and yips. It's an adorable noise, and I can't help the little pull of my lips that quickly turns into a smile. I must do something to please the shifter because the moment I feel my smile turn into a grin, the fox yips again and bounds over the bed like a hyperactive puppy. He starts running in circles, looking like he's trying to chase his white fluffy tail, and I can't help but release the laugh that has been building in my chest. It surprises me as much as it does the little fox. I don't even remember the last time I smiled, let alone laughed.

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