Page 15 of The Lost Fae
"Now was that necessary?" he adds sarcastically. His eyes dart to me in the darkness, giving me a quick wink.
The group comes to a stop as they realize the one human in their camp is laying unmoving in the dirt. One of the Fae rushes forward, his mouth falling open as he shouts, "Ellie?!"
No one else moves toward the girl. But as I step into the firelight, many tear their gazes to me. Before their first step toward me hits the ground, I turn back and rush away.
"Don't you run, girl!" They shout.
And as the rebellious little fuck I am, I don't listen.
I sprint harder.
Their feet hit the ground thundering like a quickly moving storm, headed right toward me. Six of them... seven... I guess by their steps and the hodgepodge of heartbeats pounding. That should be enough to help Lincoln. Surely, it's enough. Please... be enough.
I run in the opposite direction in which I hid the stolen goods, knowing full well I'd have to make my way back eventually. My legs ache but in a much different way than I'm used to. My body won't give out on me. I could push ahead for hours to come... but it doesn't feel good. The muscles break down and fight to build back up with every agonizing leap I make.
Still they come. They tear through the forest growing closer with every second. They don't care that I'm new to this Fae body.
An extended, leafless branch snags my wing as I hurtle by. I feel wind travel through it and pain blots my vision with spots of yellow and black. Hard against a large stump I'd missed, my foot smacks against it and my body topples forward.
I can't even register my body connecting with the ground, not when hands clamp over my ankle and drag me back over the stump. Rolling to my back, I kick my other leg out connecting with one of the Fae's chins. But another is quick to grab me. My effort, made feebler by the pain shooting through my wing, is nothing compared to the two Fae men and the many that stand snarling behind them.
"Was it you who touched Ellie?" one snarls, a long-jagged scar curving from his temple around the side of his face and tucked under his chin.
"Mars will have your head for this," another chuckles behind them.
I throw a punch forward with a growl. The Fae drops my boot and dodges it but reaches for my shirt and drags me up to my feet.
"That's enough of your attitude."
Thunk.
His grip loosens on my shirt as he turns and cocks his head.
Thunk.
"What the fuck?" he hisses to his friend, who spins on his heels.
I lean around them as best I can. Two Fae lay sprawled on the ground. Their hearts still beat at a slow but steady pace.
Lincoln’s mind is a silent echo of what it once was. His thoughts are concentrated so pointedly on his task that everything else is quiet. Another body crumples, the Fae's eyes fluttering and rolling to the back of their head.
One after another the ragged group experiences a moment of panic before they too join the others in a deep slumber.
The Fae holding me shakes me by the grip he has on my shirt. "Are you doing this? Stop this, now!"
"I mean... I wish I was doing it." I bite my lip to hold back my growing smile.
He opens his mouth to speak, distorting the long gnarly scar. His gaze falls from my face as he helplessly watches his fingers let go of my shirt one by one. He sways on his feet, knees buckling, before he dissolves like a balloon losing air.
I gingerly rock his unconscious body with my foot. He is... sleeping. How convenient.
"Who's the hero now?" His voice calls.
"Alright, Mr. Voodoo-Mind-Tricks. You can quit using the Force on these unsuspecting Fae." Both my hands balance on my hips as I step over my captor and glance around. "I suppose we can share the hero antics this one time."
Lincoln takes two long deliberate steps into a beam that's managed to break through the canopy. His teeth flash in the moonlight.
"I didn't use any force to knock these morons out." He shrugs.
