Taken by the Faerie (Taken 8)

Taken by the Faerie (Taken 8)
Megan Slayer
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Copyright ©2024 Megan Slayer

“You’re dangerous.”

“I know.” Clayton’s eyes flashed. “I also know you’re sending them to Eerie. I can’t touch them there, but I can touch you here. Send another and I’ll fuck you up.”

“You will?” He had no doubt. Clayton didn’t care who he hurt as long as he got what he wanted. “Why is that?”

“Because I made them for food. I made them so I can use them. I made them because I want a fucking army.” Clayton stepped into Thaddeus’s personal space. “I made them so they’ll fight vermin like you.”

“Like me? Come now. That’s so harsh.” He shouldn’t bait Clayton, but he didn’t care. He’d allowed Clayton and his band of marauders to screw with his life for years. No more. “What are you going to do about it? Are you going to kick my ass again? You’ve done it so much that it’s lost the threat.”

“Oh?” Clayton punched hard into Thaddeus’s stomach. The impact threw Thaddeus backward and would’ve knocked the wind out of him -- if he’d have had breath in his body. Not for years.

Thaddeus winced and gritted his teeth, but grinned. “Is that all you have?”

“No.” Clayton withdrew a butterfly knife from his pocket and slashed it through the air. He hacked into Thaddeus’s chest, leaving trails of gray blood in his wake. He sliced down Thaddeus’s arm, then across his belly. He shoved the knife into Thaddeus’s abdomen. “Had enough?”

“I’m good. Wear yourself out.” He didn’t want another slashing, but he wasn’t about to show that. The less Clayton knew he was in pain, the better.

“You can’t protect all of them. Can’t save them or even be the good guy. You’ll never redeem yourself,” Clayton said. He twisted the knife. “You went down that road years ago and you can’t undo it, so don’t try. Accept you’re a fucking loser and will never be anything but.” He yanked the knife out and shook the blood onto the asphalt as if the blood were water on his sleeve. He walked away, then glanced over his shoulder and pointed to his eyes.

Of course, he was being watched. That’s how these beings worked. No one ever got away free.

Thaddeus held his belly and managed to form a portal. Fucker. Clayton had done a number on him this time. It’d take a few days to recover. He would -- vampires didn’t die without involving silver or crucifixes, and Clayton was smart enough not to use either.

He couldn’t protect the human world forever. The regular world’s vastness was more than one being could handle. He’d need help.

Then again, he couldn’t be the only protector.

Jesus H. Christ. Where were the others? Asleep at the wheel? Probably.

He shook his head and stepped through the portal into Eerie and quickly closed the opening behind him. The faster he sealed the opening, the better the chances he could get away from Clayton, even if only for now.

He sank to the ground and bowed his head. He needed to recharge. Fuck, he should find a nice corner and hide. His skin would eventually seal over and the damage within him would go away, but a good meal would help. Being in Eerie didn’t mean he’d find one quickly.

He’d fought off Clayton for years, but he couldn’t keep going. Not like this. Besides, why in the name of hell did Clayton need to destroy so much?

He lifted his head and drank in his surroundings. He’d forgotten how bright the town could be. After a moment, he realized he’d stepped into the Faerie block. God love those Faeries; they lived for their audacious colors.

Then there he was -- he hated anything that wasn’t black. Blend in and don’t be seen.

He looked around and his stomach churned. Not from the lack of blood, but the sickeningly sweet location. There had to be at least three cupcake shops on the block. Who needed so much sugar?

Not him.

“Excuse me. Do you need help?” A red haired Faerie, dressed in a pale green dress, touched his shoulder. When he met her gaze, electricity shot through him. His skin tingled from her touch. When she smiled, she warmed him throughout. The odd look in her eyes confused him, though. Was that interest or fear?

“You do need help. Are you… you’re cut. Oh, Hera, please let me help you.” She grasped him under his arms and hoisted him to his feet. “What happened to you? No, I get it. I see, and I’m not letting you languish out here.”

“What are you talking about?” He didn’t understand how she’d figured out he had a problem, other than the slashes and blood. The way she talked, it was like she knew what was going on. Had she seen other vampires coming to Eerie after being assaulted? How many more of them were there? “How do you seem to know what I’m thinking? What’s in my gut?”

“We should talk.” She nodded to a bench, then paused. “We could stop here by the street, but you’re safer if you come with me to the Hall. We’ll go to my work.”

“You’re a cop.” He dug in his heels as best he could. “I’m not going to the cops.” He’d done that plenty of other times and usually landed in jail for twenty-four hours for what was claimed to be his own protection. Har. More like the protection of the community.

If he’d gone mad or gone rogue, then everyone was in danger, but he hadn’t on either account. He was just fine. Hurt, but fine. Beyond that, the cops tended to have mages and necromancers on their staff who could read his mind. They’d see way more than he wanted to share.