Knights of Souls and Shadows, Book 1 Read online

  She dropped her head, and I couldn’t tell if it was a bow or to keep herself from being seen.

  “Who is your lady?” I dared to ask, wondering if she would divulge anything.

  “Princess Maeve she be,” she replied, to my mild surprise. She still didn’t lift her head, and I realized it was in deference to me. I could hear respect in her tone when she stated her mistress’s name. “Sister to the Winter king.”

  “I see. And your name?” I asked.

  The tips of her pointed ears, poking through her stringy black hair, reddened. Her voice came out so tiny, if I didn’t have supernatural hearing, I might not have heard it. “Ena.”

  “Well, thank you for the food, Ena.”

  She tilted her head even more, in a definite sort of bow. “Shall I draw you a bath?”

  I about choked on my own spittle since I’d yet to go near the food or carafe of what appeared to be a juice or perhaps wine. “No, that’s not necessary. I can draw my own.”

  I couldn’t believe I just said that—draw a bath! I hadn’t had a bath since I was a kid, if you didn’t count the hot tubs at college. And I’d never drawn one. I snickered to myself.

  “As you wish,” Ena said. She remained perfectly still, standing by the table.

  “Um, anything else?” I asked.

  “I do not know. Is there?”

  Oh. She was waiting on me to request anything, and since I had the opportunity, I might as well try. “Uh … I’m new to Faery. If you didn’t know. I’m not familiar with things here. Are there books and maps you could bring me?”

  Her thin lips turned down briefly, her eyes still glued to the floor. “I will ask my lady.”

  “Ena, you can look at me.”

  She instantly shook her head. “It is not my place.”

  “I’m the prisoner here, not you.”

  “Mmm …” was all she replied. She fell silent and still again. Maybe I was wrong about the respect I’d heard in her voice moments ago. Maybe she was just as much a prisoner here as I was. Maybe I was staring at my future.

  If I had a future.

  “That is all,” I said, hating how the words sounded even without any arrogant intent.

  Ena’s head dipped again before she scurried out of the room. I repeated the words out loud to myself in different tones, but no matter how they came out, they sounded quite bitchy.

  Despite how loud and painfully my stomach growled, I didn’t dare touch the food. I’d heard the myths about fae food and wouldn’t take any chances. I didn’t take a bath, either. I wasn’t about to make myself vulnerable in the tub naked. I did crawl into the bed that felt like I was laying on a cloud. Besides dozing off in the jail cell, I hadn’t really slept since leaving the shiny world, and I had no idea how long ago that was anymore. I was exhausted. Still, guilt wormed its way in, settling heavily on my chest and making it impossible to fall asleep.

  I wondered where Brielle and Charleigh were. Brielle was probably livid and freaking out. She was probably feeling a heavy dose of guilt herself, though it wasn’t her fault. She wouldn’t have been able to stop me, and she knew that. It was just a good thing I’d gone without her and Charleigh had ran ahead.

  Like Dani and Sadie, Brielle and Charleigh were better off without me. I only brought trouble to them. Now, they could meet up with Noah, and Charleigh could help her dad. She didn’t have to worry about protecting Brielle as much as she did me. Brie would stick close to Noah and do whatever was expected of her, making Charleigh’s job easy.

  Yes, this was better all around. As soon as I could get the hell out of this castle.

  Chapter 8

  “Unless you plan to starve, get your ass up.”

  A male voice broke through my sleep-hazed mind as something prodded said ass.

  A bright light shone down on me, and I blinked up at him, coming to the realization that I was back in the stone cell. Glancing over his shoulder and noticing the bars were gone, I jumped to my feet and launched myself for the opening, but slammed into an invisible wall.

  “Easy there,” the guy said. Some kind of shifter, probably wolf, based on the yellow glow in his eyes. He was tall and muscular, filling out his guard uniform so that the fabric stretched over his muscles. His gaze traveled down to my feet and up again, lingering on my chest as a smirk lifted one side of his mouth. Ew. I fought a shudder. I had to play this right.

  “Do you know where my sister is?” I asked quietly with a little tilt of my head and bat of my eyelashes.

  He jerked his head toward the corridor. “Fall in line,” was his only reply.

  The other cells were open, too, and people were lined up in the corridor. Various ages, from teens to middle aged, both males and females. All giving off some kind of supernatural energy or another. All dressed in skintight, gray clothing—so tight there was no way possible to hide a weapon except maybe up your hooha, but, uh, ouch. I noticed for the first time I was wearing the same, and no shoes. None of us wore shoes.

  I didn’t get the point about weapons. Supernaturals possessed built-in weapons. The issued clothing must have been enchanted, preventing the use of powers and abilities. I mean, if that was the goal. I really wasn’t sure. I really didn’t know anything.

  “Move it.” The guard’s hand landed on my back and gave me a shove.

  “Hey!” I growled as I spun on him. “Do you realize who I am?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. Some kind of princess or chosen one or something? Betrothed to the king or an alpha? Think we give a shit here? We have all kinds of those.” He waved his hand, gesturing at the line of what I could only call inmates. “You’re a dime a dozen here. Get over it.”

  He shoved me again, into my place in the line, as several of the other inmates snickered. Another guard stood at the far end of the corridor, and when he turned and started walking, the line began to follow. Lost in my own thoughts, I traipsed along as we were marched down seemingly endless corridors, turning right here and left there, the stone floor rough against my feet.

  Nobody spoke. I wanted to ask questions. So many questions. Like where the hell was here? And what did he mean about all these others being my equals? At the risk of sounding bitchy, which I really didn’t care about because I was a bitch, my sister and I didn’t have equals. As our mother had told us many times, as well as anyone who dared to challenge her, we lived in the Age of Angels, and as the only angels on Earth, we ruled the Age of Angels.

  There would certainly be hell to pay once I was found. I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t exactly the most well-behaved child—that was Brielle’s job—but I didn’t deserve to be in a prison. I mean, I’d always known there was something wrong with me, but I’d committed no crime. I wondered how many of these other people had and how many were innocent like me.

  More and more questions.

  The only sounds as we continued were the clunks of the guards’ boots on the never-ending stone floor and an occasional dripping sound coming from places I couldn’t see—we were definitely underground. Great. After growing up in a bunker, I was so tired of being trapped underground. Finally, the lead guard opened a door into a large, brightly lit, noisy room. The scent of food cooking wafted under my nose, though I couldn’t really say it smelled appetizing.

  I followed the line toward the service counter where more supes slopped something I assumed was supposed to be food onto trays. I barely glanced at them, though, my eyes scanning the room for my sister’s auburn head or Charleigh’s orange one.

  Rows of long tables filled the space, hundreds of supes in their gray uniforms, eating with a few growls and snarls in between. There was a din of conversation, small groups keeping their voices low for the most part as they huddled over their trays. Tense energy crackled in the air. Dozens of angry, danger-filled eyes, some more animalistic and feral than human, darted to and fro, always on alert as though expecting something to happen at any moment.

  And then it did. A fight broke out on the far side o
f the cafeteria, throwing everyone into a frenzy. A crowd gathered around the fighters, yelling and cheering and egging them on. That’s when I saw her—my twin—close to the scuffle but trying to scurry out of the way.

  I swallowed down a flood of emotions, including relief that I wasn’t here alone, anger because she deserved to be here even less than I, and a bit of fear for how we even got here. I didn’t see Charleigh with Brie. I had no idea what that meant.

  “Brielle!” I shouted over the ruckus as I ran for her, hurdling tables and people as I went.

  I didn’t make it very far before I was slammed to the ground by a heavy body. The guard tried to pin me down, but my combat training kicked in, and instincts took over. I threw my full weight into squirming just enough until I could throw an elbow back into the guard’s face, his nose crunching from the blow. That gave me another second and space to shove him off of me and flip in the air, out of his reach. I landed on top of a table, one bare foot sloshing into someone’s meal. While a small crowd was still hollering at the fight across the room, some broke off, their attention now on us.

  A trickle of blood leaked from the guard’s nose as he glared at me. The beast within me lifted her head at the coppery scent, and I swear she licked her tongue up the inside of my spine, leaving a trail of powerful but dark energy.

  And I liked it. I liked the silky feel of it as it spread over my shoulders and into my blood.

  The guard lunged at me. I threw a hand up in self-defense, only planning to block him. Instead, a ball of fire shot out of my palm. Oh, shit. Either the uniform didn’t dampen my abilities, or they hadn’t expected me to have any. I hadn’t expected to have any! I apparently had come into my powers along with my wings, and maybe they underestimated just how dangerous I could be. Which would explain the previous guard’s dismissal of who I was. Was it possible they really didn’t know?

  The guard ducked the flames before lurching at me again. I threw both hands up this time, and instead of fire, several sharp icicles shot out of my palms. One skimmed across the guard’s temple, drawing more blood, but he deflected the rest, and they shattered with the tinkling of glass hitting the floor. I did a bit of a dance on the table, excited for more. Bring it on, I taunted. With the dark energy pulsing through my veins, I felt all powerful.

  Anger shining in his red eyes—I didn’t know what kind of supe this guard was, but my guess would be vampire—he growled, and then he was gone. Too fast for me to see, let alone stop, he took me down again, effectively pinning me.

  “Elli, don’t fight them. We’ll figure this out.” Brielle’s voice came in my head. At least our twin bond was back, and we could speak to each other.

  “Are you okay?”

  “A little beat up, but I’ll live.”

  “WHAT?”

  “I’ll be fine, El. Just do what they say, okay? And don’t give away our bond. We’ll talk later.”

  She shut me out with that, at the same time I caught sight of her again. One side of her face was covered with a purplish-green bruise. Anger coursed through me, and I heaved my body up, trying to shove the heavy guard off of me. When he didn’t budge, I attempted the fireball again. It was weak, but the heat was enough to make him yelp. Just not enough to throw him off of me. Instead, he slammed my head against the stone ground, hard, and then another booted guard stomped up to us, bent down, and blew some kind of green powder into my face.

  As though a switch had been flipped, all energy drained right out of me, into the floor. They had to drag my floppy, wet-noodle ass out.

  So much for being all powerful.

  I felt like one of those ragdolls Gertie made for the little kids at the Loft out of leftover scraps of material and yarn, unable to even twitch a muscle as they took me back to my cell and tossed me on the cot. I groaned as pain shot through the right side of my face, where the guard had pounded it against the stone floor. My cheek swelled, effectively forcing my eye shut. Closing the other one and trying to ignore the pain, I sank into a deep sleep and dreamt about home and my parents. I woke up with the heavy weight of guilt and shame.

  If I had only listened, I wouldn’t have ended up in this place, whatever it was. But what really carved a hole in my gut was that I’d dragged Brielle along with me. I hoped that since I hadn’t seen Charleigh in the cafeteria, she wasn’t here, too.

  I had no idea how we got here or even how long we’d been here. I had no recollection of entering the bunker or cave or whatever it was, of coming to this cell, and nothing about changing into this ugly gray uniform. Where were my leathers and weapons anyway? And how much time had passed from our arrival to when I finally woke up the first time? The second time? Hours? Days?

  “Where the hell are we anyway?” I mumbled out loud, frustration making it sound like a growl.

  “The Vault.” The whisper came from near the bars, to the right side of my cell, surprising me. I hadn’t expected anyone to hear or care, let alone answer.

  I scrambled to my feet and over to the bars, careful not to touch them. “What’s the Vault?”

  “A supernatural prison.” It sounded like she sat on the floor on the other side of the wall that separated our cells. “They say it’s controlled by the fae, but it’s not in any Faery realm.”

  My brows pinched together. “What realm is it then?”

  “From the stories I was told as a child, it’s a pocket realm. It’s connected to many other realms, providing a place to send the worst, most deadliest criminals away. Criminals who can’t be killed.”

  “I’m not a criminal, though.” And I was pretty certain I could be killed, but I wasn’t about to divulge that piece of juicy information. It might be hard to do, but no one ever said we were immortal. Not even as Earth’s Angels. “I didn’t do anything to be here.”

  “Of course, you didn’t,” she scoffed, sarcasm dripping in her tone.

  “You did?”

  “I killed five guards and the fae prince they worked for.” Her voice was monotone, cold, and she provided no further details. No justification, like he’d murdered her whole family or anything. I decided I was better off not knowing.

  “So how do we get out of here?” I asked.

  “There’s only one way,” she said. I heard her intake of breath before blowing it out dramatically. “Die.”

  “But you just said nobody here can be killed.”

  “Exactly.”

  Drenched in a cold sweat, my breath came out in short bursts. As I took in my surroundings, re-orienting myself, I watched the slight figure of a girl as she placed another tray of food on the table. I wasn’t in the stone prison but still at the Winter Court. The dream had felt so real, though. Thank the angels for Ena—her entry must have woken me.

  As I threw the heavy covers off and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, I felt her looking at me through the curtains of hair surrounding her downturned face, giving me the side-eye. I still wore my fighting leathers—not that abysmal gray uniform—and had no intentions of removing the protective clothing. I also had no intentions of eating, though my body moved toward the table of its own volition. Ena uncovered the dishes this time before she scurried out of the room again.

  The food looked so normal. Well, normal for worlds that weren’t post-apocalyptic. A spread like I thought I’d never see again since leaving the shiny world was laid out in front of me—eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, croissants, waffles with berries and whipped cream. My arms crossed over my stomach, which physically hurt from the need for food.

  “It’s not poisoned,” a twinkling female voice said from behind me. “My brother doesn’t want you dead. Yet.”

  I turned to find a woman who looked only a few years older than me, but it was hard to know for sure since she was fae. She could have been two thousand millennia old. Her hair—a bluish silver in a fae way, not an old lady way—was done in an elaborate arrangement of braids around the crown, the rest of it falling in a smooth sheet behind her shoulders. Her light blue eyes, rin
ged with silver, tilted up at the outsides at a sharper angle than I’d ever seen on any other fae. Or maybe it was the tiny blue faerie stone embedded in each temple that made her eyes look all the more dramatic, or how those light eyes contrasted against her dark skin.

  Though the ground outside was covered in a fresh blanket of snow and more continued to fall beyond the plate glass windows, she wore a sleeveless dress held up only by a ribbon around her neck, exposing miles and miles of satiny, deep ebony skin. The light blue silk fabric widened enough to cover most of her breasts and fell to mid-thigh, displaying delicate lines and whorls of glowing fae markings on her arms and legs. When she turned to close the door, her bare back showed off more swirls enhanced with faerie stones embedded down her spine. Her full lips painted the color of mulberries stretched into a smile when she turned back toward me.

  “I promise it’s safe to eat,” she said.

  “If I want to be trapped in Faery forever,” I replied. As if I currently have a choice.

  Her gaze assessed me, then she shrugged. “Why would you want to leave? Especially with the condition of your world.” She all but wrinkled her nose with the statement, the disgust clear in her tone. Then she waved her fingers in the air, dismissively. “But no, the food won’t trap you here. On that part, I’m not sure about my brother.”

  “And your brother is the king?”

  “Oh, my manners. Pardon me. Yes, I am Princess Maeve. You can call me Maeve, though. And you are Elliana Knight, with an impressive brother yourself.”

  I suppressed a snort. Impressive was one way to describe the ass, I supposed. “Yes, I’m Elliana.”

  “Well, please eat, Elliana. I beg it of you, or my brother may have my head if you die from starvation.”

  My gaze fell on the food, and before I could think any more about it, my hand darted out and grabbed a piece of bacon. One bite was all it took and next thing I knew, my ass was planted in the chair and I was scarfing down every dish in sight. When I couldn’t possibly hold another morsel, I sat back in the chair, realizing for the first time that Maeve occupied the other. After a flick of her hand, Ena rushed in, and Maeve spoke to her in a language that sounded like it could have been Gaelic, if I were to guess, but with otherworldly sounds and trills weaved in. As the waif quickly cleared the table, I noticed the gnarly scars along her bony arms for the first time, a nick in the side of ear when her hair fell to the side to reveal it. What had happened to her?