Page 45 of My Monster's Keeper
And yet, I find myself thinking that Becky stands head and shoulders above this Fae. Does that make me a traitor to my kind? My father would say so. He would have my skin stripped from my back in long strips.
The Fae gets closer, and, with a deft pull of my magic, I pull the air towards me, inhaling her scent. Seelie, I can taste the heat of her magic inside her, something with a fire base. She’s strong but not enough.
I check on Becky. She’s stumbling around with a bottle of alcohol in her hands. She mutters to herself occasionally, but, other than that, just stares out at the ocean.
“Where are you?” She screams out. Her cry is so full of pain that I almost abandon my spot. As it is, my chest gets strangely tight.
Becky Dawson knows loss, and I know it because I have felt the same. Suddenly, I feel a connection with the human. I can taste her again. Stronger this time. My heart seems to stop and beat just for her.
What is this spell she has cast over me?
The Fae spots her in that second. She abandons her glamour, showing the angular feral truth of what she is. What we all are. High cheekbones, her ears are pointed, canines a little too long, she’s too tall, her limbs too long. She isn’t of this world, and it's obvious.
Becky pauses in her stumbling, freezing like prey, her whole body stiffening. Her hair lifts on the breeze and brings me her scent. She’s not afraid, but she’s cautious.
I don’t dare even shift my weight. She gets closer, her melodic voice calls out, but I can’t hear the words. Becky tilts her head to the side and says something back. She throws out the arm holding the bottle and half turns to the ocean.
The Fae smiles. I see the flash of her teeth. She moves, but, in that moment, she comes up against an even bigger threat. One that no one knows was right there. As her arm slashes down, Wilder rises from nowhere. He captures her arm and bends it so that she crumbles to her knees in front of him.
I throw myself off the roof, landing lightly on my feet and stalking towards the two Fae and our human.
“It’s one little human, you want it, sure. You can have it, My Lord,” she babbles.
“What were you doing with the humans?”
“Preparing the meat for sale,” The Fae shrieks as Puppy charges her. “What is that?”
Wilder peers at the Grim and shrugs his shoulders. “That is my friend.”
I do a double take. Say what now?
“You’re friends with it?” She’s almost apoplectic with shock and rage.
“Sine, Daughter of Olyn. Who are you selling people meat to?” She jerks and looks up at me with the appropriate level of terror. In fact, she fears me more than she fears Wilder or Puppy. It’s flattering.
Becky casts me a frown that is clearly a demand for information.
“We have to eat,” Sine spits.
“That’s not eating-” Wilder snarls.
“You eat them?” Becky asks. “Like roasts?”
“Dehydrate the skins to save through the winters,” Sine mocks. “Rehydrate and turn them into delicacies. Serve human to humans and watch the pigs eat themselves.”
Becky reacts faster than I gave her credit. She pulls the knife I spelled out from under her jacket, spins it in her hand, and hits Sine in the face with the handle.
My mouth parts as ice fills Sine’s mouth. Her lips turn blue, and ice creeps up her cheeks. The desperate Fae looks as far as her eyes will allow her to see, searching for a saviour that isn’t coming. I almost feel sorry for her.
Gagging someone with ice is completely new. Something that never once crossed my mind, and, oh, the ideas that are exploding into my mind now. I lean forward to get a better look.
“Frost, undo it. We need answers,” Wilder grumbles.
I grunt with annoyance but pull the ice from the Fae. She vomits and doubles over, drops to her knees and then side, curling up on the floor. I glance at Becky in appreciation and find her looking right at me.
Something possesses me, I’m not sure what, but I smile and wink at her. Her answering grin is all I can ask for.
She edges closer to me. I take her hand in mine and then feel my mind trip over itself. Why does this feel so good? So right?
