Courting Darkness (Fae Revealed, #1)

by Katie May

My fingers itch to tug her lip from where she caught it between her teeth, to soothe the tender flesh the way her proximity soothes me. If her aura is enough to calm me, what will touching her do? I shiver at the prospect. To be relaxed, truly and utterly relaxed, for the first time in years… The very idea is enough to make my head spin.

Her blue eyes aren’t glazed with lust the way I expect. Instead, lines of concern bracket the corners and cause a furrow between her brow that my fingers itch to soothe away. I pick my pen back up, reveling in the relief her touch provided as I scrawl a note on my paper. It’s nice to meet you too.

I don’t know who Serafina is, but I know she sees me. And being seen? That’s worth anything she may ask of me.

“To the parking lot? You don’t want me walking alone the ten feet it takes to get to the parking lot?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

That’s one weapon I haven’t fully gotten down yet, despite the past month that Mom has been working with me on it. Knives, hand-to-hand, swords, guns, pole arms… All of those make sense. For some reason, the nearly liquid flow of the whip still eludes me.

I know I literally just gave him permission to call me, but a part of me panics. I legit want to throw my phone as far as I can across the room, watch it shatter against the wall, and then go into the basement, grab my parents’ prized bazooka, and blow it to smithereens.

Most days, I love my job as a detective for the Fae Investigation Bureau’s homicide division, but today isn’t one of those days.

His pain radiates through the air, so pronounced and prominent that it fuels the vampire inside of me. No one was surprised when my Revelation revealed myself to be an empath vampire, and an Unseelie one at that. I’ve always been perceptive of people’s emotions, so it made sense that my supernatural form would feast on them.

When the fae came to earth thousands and thousands of years ago, they were divided into two types—Seelie and Unseelie. Each displayed different traits that became more prominent when they reached the age of thirteen and participated in their Revelation. Seelies tend to be softer, gentler, and predisposed to logical thinking. Unseelies, however, we’re much more aggressive and impulsive.

“No sign of forced entry. Rope burns on the wrists. Strange symbol on the neck,” Caleb recites, his tone almost mechanical. “Cause of death?” Shelia queries. I pipe in before Caleb can answer. “Blood loss. She was cut over one hundred and fifty times before bleeding out.”

My stomach swarms like a nest of angry bees has been kicked over. All I want to do is leave this house of death, find Serafina, and pull her into my arms. Because that will go over well. She doesn’t know you, asshole. Maybe you should, I dunno, have a conversation with her?

My entire body freezes when I notice the picture flashing on the screen. No. No. No. No. Caleb glances down, and his eyebrows shoot up in alarm. “Sera?” His voice comes out high-pitched and panicky as he answers it. “What’s wrong?”

I still can’t believe you stabbed me!” Tristan continues to vacillate between being in awe of the fact that I actually stabbed him and irritation that I got one over on him.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Tristan hisses, his eyes wide as he stares at the weapon, his tongue sneaking out to trace over his full lower lip. Well, okay then. Honestly, I think it’s sexy too, but I wasn’t expecting him to have that reaction, especially not after being stabbed with it.

“I’m not exactly easy to injure, no matter his size. I mean, I clearly did a lot more damage to him than he did to me,” I point out, waving a hand to where his black shirt hides the blood I know is making it stick to his skin.

Oh, nothing too exciting going on over here. Just a teeny tiny, itty bitty little stabbing. But no one’s dead, so I’ll call that a win. Carry on.

“Fuck this.” Sera jumps forward between the two. Yanking the barrette from her hair, she flicks her wrist, and in a moment, the tiny girl is armed with two blades, one pointing at each man. “If you all could actually stop the male posturing for a moment? You can? Oh, goody.” Her voice is syrupy again, and the stranger flinches, though his eyes don’t move from the blade in her hand.

“None of this would be necessary if you guys didn’t insist on acting like overprotective baboons. This is where you make introductions, you moron,” she snarls at the stranger, and all of us freeze. She knows this guy? I don’t know why I’m surprised by the fact. Obviously, I came to the realization that he’s familiar with her, but I suppose a delusional part of me didn’t piece together that she might’ve known him back.

“You’re hurt?” Maddox’s voice turns panicked. “Dammit, Sera, you know you’re—” “If you finish that sentence, I will personally ensure that every man you’re flirting with receives falsified test results saying you have an STD,” she interrupts, rage painting a stain of red onto her fair cheeks.

“Who’d you stab?” Maddox’s words are conversational, though he pats his pocket as if he’s checking to ensure his phone is still where he put it. “Are they the ones who hurt you? You know killing is far more efficient than just stabbing, Ser. If you stab them, they can come back for revenge. If you kill them, then we just have to hide the body. Way less work.”

“My parents are security specialists and profilers, which means they’ve seen the worst of the worst. They’ve spent our lives teaching us how to protect ourselves from anything and everything that we may run across.” “Plus they’re just weird,” Maddox admits with a casual shrug of his shoulders. He places a possessive arm around Sera’s shoulders, tugging her until she’s tight against his side. I know he’s her brother, but a rumble detonates in my chest at the display. “I’d call them hippies if it weren’t for their penchant for violence. Caleb, our older brother, says we’re the tie-dyed version of the Addams family.”

“Maybe she can stand up to some of the supes,” Gage murmurs idly, a small smile curving his lips as he watches her chew Maddox out.

All I know for certain is that this school year is shaping up to be my favorite yet.

“You don’t know anything about me. Or him.” I jab a finger in Kian’s direction, who’s currently talking with five other girls. One of them seems to be massaging his shoulders, while the other four flock around him like a group of besotted dogs. I can’t help but note that his eyes are shrouded in pain. So much pain, my stomach physically spasms, threatening to empty itself onto the floor. Why is he so…sad? Why doesn’t anyone say anything to him?

Don’t ask me why, but I feel…protective of Kian. Maybe it’s because I recognize his sadness in myself. And though his eyes are gorgeous, they hold a world of pain and loneliness that breaks my heart.

Gage is nothing but a huge teddy bear in dark clothing. Maybe a gothic teddy bear. Is that a thing? It should be.

His smile turns devious, something I’ve never seen on his face before, and he puffs out his chest and adopts a low, masculine voice. “Unhand her, you surly beast!” “Oh my god,” I laugh. “Is this some kind of role-playing game? The princess, the beast, and the knight?” “Which one am I in that equation?” Foster asks as we move towards the grassy football field. “Why, the princess of course,” I say lightly. “I’m the knight. But honestly, I didn’t really know you guys were into kinky role-playing games…”

I want to banish the shadows haunting Kian’s eyes and replace them with light, though I’m not sure if he’ll allow me to. My conversation with him this morning plays on repeat in my head.

Every time I see Devyn, with his harsh features, strong jawline, and black hair, I think of danger and adventure. Today, his outfit is completed by a pair of black cowboy boots that look surprisingly sexy on him.

“Devyn,” I greet, and his plush lips twitch into the beginnings of a smile. “Bunny,” he says, and my nostrils flare at his nickname for me. I’m anything but cute and fluffy. I’m a fierce wolf who eats bunnies, dammit! His next words stop the anger from forming completely. “Stab anyone today?” “Why?” I cock my head to the side. “You want to turn me in or help me hide the body?” Wicked amusement dances in his eyes. “Depends on how many bodies we’re talking about.” My brows arch. “Why would it depend?” “I just need to know how much acid to get.”

“Nothing, bunny,” he says with a slow shake of his head, seemingly perplexed with something I can’t quite figure out. I hold up one finger. “First, I’m going to call you out on your bluff. You can’t stare at me like that and then say it was ‘nothing.’ But go ahead. Keep your secrets.” I add a second finger to the first. “Second, I’m not a bunny. Bunnies are cute and cuddly. I stab people. We are not the same. You feel me?” He gives me a strange look that I would almost describe as indulgent. A tiny smirk dances across his lips. “Whatever you say,”

Even my monster shows no interest in our crowds of sycophants. He’s as drawn to those wide, blue eyes as I am.

Lenore is the very epitome of what I never want to let myself become. What I will die to prevent myself from becoming.

“Sera!” No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. She has to hold on. Gage can help. He’s her friend. He’ll help her, even though he isn’t supposed to, right? My monster uncurls inside of me, letting out a sharp snarl. Fuck it. I’ll make him help her. There’ll be at least one small tendril inside of him that wants to, and I’ll use every ounce of power inside of me to force him to do it if he refuses. He can kill me later, but at least Sera will be okay. I just have to keep her alive until then.

She’ll live, and when I find out who’s done this to her, I will twist every single thread of their desires until they’re left with nothing. I’ll be her personal monster forever. She just needs to fucking live.

“So what exactly are your symptoms now?” Gage asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Um, well, there’s a lot, really. And they don’t all happen at the same time. Seizures, fainting spells, dizziness, migraines, insomnia, tachycardia, fever, rashes, shakes, nausea…”

I once heard that describing chronic illnesses is like talking about a room on fire. You focus on the big, new items, like the fact that the curtains have caught on fire, but forget to mention the bookcase that’s been smoldering for a while now, because it’s just become your normal. I found that a pretty accurate way to describe my life, and the metaphor stuck with me.

Serafina isn’t the kind of woman a man can have just once, I’m sure of it. One taste, one touch, and he’ll be hers for eternity, her loyal monster, to use as she directs him with a coy smile on her lips and a flutter of those inky lashes before she shreds them with her sharp little claws. “Game on, kitten,” I murmur, flicking off the shower and wrapping a towel around my waist as I head back into my bedroom.

Trouble. Something coming. Pain, pain, pain… The shadows whisper their dire warning in my ear, and I freeze for a moment before scrambling into my clothes as I push my power forward, trying for more clarity, more answers, even as it makes my head scream and the edges of my vision grey out.

My shadows are cryptic, but they’re never wrong. Death is coming tonight, and I’m not sure there’s anything I can do to stop it. But I’m going to try.

Unlike many vampires, I don’t just take an emotion, don’t just feed. I push emotions into those around me, using their own body’s reactions against them.

What the hell could have taken down Devyn of all people? I’ve seen that bastard laugh with both of his legs broken. What could be so bad that not even Gage can heal him?

That girl is broken and hurting, and you think you’re the one who knows how to help her?” His chin lifts as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Of course. She needs fun and laughter, someone to actually help take care of her, to protect her.” “That girl doesn’t need to be taken care of,” I snarl. “She’s stronger than you, than me, than fucking all of us combined. But just like with me, you see what you want to see.”

Better now, when he can’t turn this vitriol onto her. “I was your best friend!” I pat my chest once, directly over my heart, as emotion coils around my heart like barbed wire. “A brother, basically. Thirteen goddamn years, Tris. Yet when I was drowning, where were you? Where were any of you?”

“Right. Because of course, that’s every thirteen-year-old virgin’s dream, right? Fucking a woman old enough to be their great-grandmother.”

“And as my best friends, I’m sure you took the time to notice when all of your powers came in and you were welcomed and cared for that I was shutting down. That I was scared and hurting. That I was begging for you to actually see through that stupid mask I had to wear or get punished.”

“And if Tristan was too busy learning to shift, I was sure, absolutely positive, that one of my other brothers would notice. That they’d hear the pain in every word I spoke. But no. Your lives moved on, didn’t they? You were so fucking jealous of the attention I was getting, you didn’t fucking care that I didn’t want it!”

“And after a while, when my brothers, my very best friends, started to see me as a monster, I figured what was the point in fighting it? You all expected me to be this evil, twisted asshole, so why be anything else? Why try to fight it?”

“You self-centered asshole. You can see my power, feel it, and you really think no one else can? Have you ever felt me using it at school on the people around me? Of course you fucking haven’t! But I’ve bet you’ve heard the whispers. About knocking me off their list. About scoring with me like it’s a rite of passage.”

“Fuck. This is what she meant when she said you’re sad and lonely.”