Remnants of Ash (Reign of Fae Book 1) Page 5

  Chloe was relieved when she saw the thick, sensible heel. “Thanks for this,” she said, tapping the rubber tread on the thick heel. “Boots are actually a good idea. I can hide a couple more W-E-A-P-O-N-S in these.” Chloe spelled out the word for Sophie’s sake.

  “With the stories I’ve heard, a girl can never have too many of those.”

  “Boose.” Sophie said and clapped her approval.

  “That’s right, Sophie, boots.” Jessica sounded out the word for her daughter with an emphasis on the T sound. She smiled at the child with tears in her eyes and looked to Chloe after. “Go get the bastards who did this, Chloe, and take care of my Peter Bram.”

  5

  Greeting the Locals

  “Bram?” Chloe whispered. It was so cold outside; she could see her breath against the thick amber sky. The scorched air had a metallic taste to it and smelled like rotting flesh. It was putrid, but breathable. She was thankful for that small concession. Still, Chloe felt like she was walking through Europe during the Black Death of the fourteenth century. Her nerves were on edge, and she shivered every time another scab appeared from out of nowhere. She wondered if she and Bram were going to make it all the way to Coleman Dock.

  Chloe felt frozen down to her bones, and, yet, somehow her legs kept moving forward. The closer the scabs encircled her and Bram as they walked down the street, the more anxious she became. She felt like a caged animal as they swarmed. Most of the scabs cowered in the darkest shadows, but some dared to dart out nearby before scurrying back into the darkness. She thought Bram would’ve tried to find a car in working order, but it soon became obvious that a car ride would have been very short-lived. The roads had become bowling alleys of debris –everything from crashed and burned out vehicles to building rubble and bodies littered the roads every direction they had searched. The destruction and death was horrid to see, but the smell made it unbearable, a constant inescapable reminder of the cruelty the fae had rained down on them. It could have been worse, though. If it were the middle of summer, the stench would have been much, much worse.

  Rotting food, backed up sewage, and the putrefaction of thousands of bodies mingled together in the frigid air, serving as a glaring reminder no one was coming to their rescue. The farther they walked away from Bram’s apartment, the larger the swarm of scabs grew. Chloe couldn’t breathe, and her body tensed. “Bram?” she fretted.

  “It’ll be alright.” Bram’s voice was calm and quiet. “The glamours are working.”

  “Mhmm.” Chloe mumbled through chattering teeth.

  “If you walk with a bit more confidence, it may keep them at bay, intimidate them.”

  “That’d be a lot easier if I wasn’t fucking freezing to death,” Chloe hissed.

  “Right. Here.” Bram waved his hand in front of Chloe, and glowing, circular amber symbols swirled out from his palm and dissolved into her skin. “Sorry.”

  Instantly, Chloe felt like she had been wrapped in an electric blanket set on high. “Woah. That is frigging amazing. Thank you.” She sighed, enjoying the little bit of comfort the heat gave her as the scabs continued to hover. “Aren’t you afraid of doing magic in front of them?”

  “Nah, not now that we are glamoured and geared. For Famke, freshening up a glamour is the same as a human touching up their makeup.”

  “Oh.” Chloe straightened her posture and began mimicking Avery’s arrogant strut and Famke’s saunter. “Better?” she asked, but noticed the scabs were still daring to draw close.

  “Much.”

  “Are you sure the roy…the others don’t know about Hadley’s cottage?” Chloe asked.

  “Until you told me, I didn’t even know about it.” Bram seemed impressed by the late professor’s ability to keep a secret hideaway from him. “It was left to him by his half-sister, still under her second husband’s name before she remarried. Yeah, I’m sure they don’t know about it.” He chuckled and mumbled to himself. “Well done, Hadley.”

  Chloe sniffled, but held her tears at bay. She wasn’t sure if they’d be hidden by her Famke glamour or not.

  “Are you still cold?” Bram asked. There was gentleness in his voice, even though he looked like he could throw a semi-truck down the street.

  “No. I just...I miss him,” Chloe admitted for the first time. With all the chaos following Hadley’s car accident, she hadn’t really had a minute to herself to mourn his death…or, rather, his murder.

  “Me too,” Bram whispered, “me too.”

  Warm under her upgraded glamour, Chloe kept up appearances and her sultry walk but noticed a new group of scabs moving even closer to them than the rest. This group seemed different than the others, larger builds, less frenzied, their movements more adept.

  “Shit. I was afraid of this,” Bram said, offering Chloe his arm in a casual way that contradicted the worry in his words.

  “What. What is it?” Chloe took his arm as they continued to walk.

  Bram gently placed his warm hand over hers. It served to soothe her a little amidst the swarming scabs. “They want to pay tribute, mistress,” he said, reminding her of her role and the glamour surrounding her. “They may not be able to speak, but scabs communicate to higher castes in other ways, and we don’t want to draw any unwanted attention. Hold your hand out and brace yourself. You’re royalty, and the Dark merely want to kiss the hand of a royal who granted them this utopia. They’ll think it odd if we don’t let them pay homage in this way.”

  “Are you serious?” she hissed in a hushed voice.

  “Afraid so.”

  The scabs were hideous and vile. They chose to wear human clothes, but they were wrinkled miss-matches crusted in blood and earth with shredded edges from constant in-fighting. Their features were a mix between human and wolf, as if their species paused in mid-transformation, stuck between the worlds of humans and lycans.

  Chloe felt sick to her stomach, but she had a role to play and couldn’t risk exposing them or being discovered as a usurper. They needed her glamour to hold until they could, at least, reach Colman Dock and hotwire a boat to Bremerton –or however Bram planned to get them across Puget Sound. She just wanted to get the hell out of the city soaked in blood and death and away from the howls of pleasure from the scabs.

  Chloe took a shallow breath and reluctantly held out her hand. Instantly, a scab rushed by to kiss it before scurrying back into the shadows. She was disgusted. The creature’s breath was foul, like a mixture of spoiled milk and raw meat left on a kitchen counter to rot. Her hand trembled slightly from the brief contact with its cold flesh, its texture reminding Chloe of something dead she might have dissected back in high school.

  “Have they always been here?” Chloe whispered.

  “Not in these numbers, but yes. I believe legends of them have inspired many a vampire and werewolf tales throughout your history. But the scorch has emboldened them to come out of the shadows permanently I’m afraid.”

  “Do you think we’ll be safe at the professor’s from them?” she asked, holding out hope for some semblance of a safe haven at the end of the morbid parade she marched in.

  “Knowing Hadley, it’s probably a fortress. At least, I hope it is,” Bram stated.

  “Me too.” Chloe had dropped off research at the professor’s cottage a couple of years ago when he’d been sick but had never gone inside. The professor had even sworn her to secrecy regarding its location, laughing it off at the time to be worry over freshmen harassing him at his retreat in the hopes of getting better grades. Chloe now knew better and wondered if Hadley had been keeping its location secret from Bram in particular.

  “We’ll make a slight detour for supplies, just to be safe, though. Besides, we can’t be outside when that hits.” Bram gestured in front of them. Far in the distance was what looked to be a wall of swirling sand. It had come out of nowhere; Chloe was sure of it. The storm was the color of dried blood and it was heading straight for them. It was as tall as a skyscraper and as wide as the city itself,
engulfing everything in its path. Without waiting for her response, Bram led Chloe away from their direct route to the dock and headed straight for Pike Place Fish Market instead. She could barely believe it had been merely days ago when fresh fish had been tossed around in a skilled game of catch to entertain tourists at the world famous market.

  Chloe couldn’t imagine what it looked like now, let alone hope for the possibility of finding any sort of supplies after the looting. But she knew Bram was right. The storm heading their way looked brutal, like nothing in its path would survive. “Um, I think the market’s probably closed, permanently.”

  “Not the black market hidden within. It’s called a Spree, neutral ground just out of phase between Earth and Fae. There’s a witch there that has something of mine and she owes me a debt. She’ll also have the supplies we need.”

  “So, witches exist too?” Chloe shook her head, taking care that it looked like she was annoyed by something her guard had said. “And what is it exactly that we need from this witch?”

  Bram looked around at the buildings as they hurried by until his eyes settled on one in particular. “You see those runes?”

  Chloe followed Bram’s gaze. She didn’t know how, but she could see faint glowing amber circles surrounding a third-floor apartment of a building across the street. Larger runes were centered in the apartment’s windows almost like bizarre Christmas lights. The magic was similar to what had emanated from Bram’s hand when he’d created her glamour. Maybe it was the glamour allowing her to see things normally invisible to her human eyes. Or maybe her eyes were truly open for the first time, and she could see things simply because she believed.

  “Protection spell from unwanted house guests,” Bram said, breaking her from her thoughts.

  “So, are there fae or witches living there?”

  “How should I know? Do you want me to bake a casserole and take it over to find out what they are?” he snapped.

  “Don’t be such an ass.”

  “Then don’t be so,” he whispered the last word, “human.” Bram took a breath seeming to try and calm himself. “The sooner we get you off the streets, the safer we’ll be.”

  Chloe scoffed. “Agreed,” she said coldly.

  “Sorry. I’m done being an ass.”

  Chloe scoffed again. “My predicament doesn’t wash away as easily as one of your moods.” She could almost picture Bram, unscathed and practically immortal, walking over her cold, dead, human corpse if it came down to a fight with the scabs. “Yeah, we’ll be safer.”

  Bram huffed under his breath, “Let’s just get there.”

  “Yes, let’s,” she huffed back.

  Bram bristled uncomfortably, letting Chloe know he truly was sorry.

  They walked with quickened steps in silence for a while before Chloe spoke again. “Remember last year when just about everybody on campus came down with that nasty flu?” she asked. “The one that killed thousands?”

  “How can I forget? Hadley had me doing your work on top of mine for a week. It was brutal,” he said, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

  “I’d never been so sick in my life. Everyone seemed to be wandering around campus in a haze. It felt like something out of The Walking Dead,” she said.

  “Yeah, I remember it was pretty hard on you, losing your grandfather to it. I’m sorry.” Bram was silent for a minute. “Jessica’s husband came down with it. He didn’t make it either.”

  “Oh God.” Then, it was Chloe’s turn to stay silent for what seemed like forever, but she had to say what she was feeling or she might explode. “I’d live that horrible week over a thousand times if only to wake from this nightmare.” Her tears started to fall. She couldn’t hold them in any longer. Suddenly, she let out a gasp of worry. “My glamour!” she whispered.

  Bram reached out and gently brushed her cheek. Feathery amber light from his fingertips soaked into her skin. He looked at her, his eyes full of regret, knowing that there was nothing he could do to ease her sadness. As he pulled his hand away, Chloe saw his skin was dry. She’d expected it would be moist from her tears.

  “Cry for as long as you need, Clo. The glamour will hold. I’ll make sure of it.” He’d whispered her nickname, using it only once before when her grandfather had died. Bram’s little displays of affection were always comforting in some small way when she seemed to need it most.

  Block after block, Chloe held out her hand and cried in hidden silence as new factions of scabs swarmed. Only a sparse few bolted towards them now, daring to rush by and pay tribute. Her attitude and convincing saunter seemed to be keeping the bulk of them at bay. Most of the ones who did come forward simply grazed her hand as they dashed by, others kissed it. One particularly bold scab dropped something near her feet, moaned with pleasure with what could barely be described as a laugh, before running off.

  Bram grabbed her other hand and pulled her past the object. She stepped over it as he looped their arms together again and steadied her, willing her to keep walking.

  “What was that?” Chloe whispered.

  “Just don’t think about it,” he pleaded.

  “Bram?” Chloe whispered, but her question was answered by another scab dropping something in their path and scampered away. Oh, God!

  A bloody human hand had been laid at their feet like a gift. One of the fingers had been gnawed off like a dog treat while the rest of the woman’s hand, including her wedding ring, had been left untouched. The hand was pristine, almost as if it had been licked clean except for the fact it had been ripped from some poor woman’s wrist. Blood vessels and muscle still dangled from the wound.

  “Steady. It’ll be over soon. We’re almost there.” Bram tried to reassure her.

  Chloe took a shallow breath, looked straight ahead, and willed herself to keep walking. The two scabs laying human body parts at her feet had emboldened the rest to come closer and closer, bearing their gruesome tributes. She averted her eyes, shielding herself from the horrors being laid at their feet over and over again. Pike Place Market was just ahead and Chloe couldn’t banish the macabre image of scabs throwing body parts back and forth like they were fresh fish from the famous market. Even her mind wasn’t a safe haven to which she could escape the horrors of the new reality anymore. She tried to become numb to it all, not see or think anything, to just move forward. In her semi-dazed state, Chloe couldn’t be sure, but out of the corner of her eye she could have sworn she saw some of the scabs kissing Bram’s hand as well and laying tributes, specifically, at his feet.

  A clear thought broke through the haze. She was glad the first tribute she had dared to focus on hadn’t been a child’s hand. She didn’t think she could have borne that. She wondered what type of world little Sophie was going to grow up in, or if there would even be a world for her to grow up in. Chloe squashed her fears and the haze with rage and let her anger surface. She welcomed it, relished it, and it drove her forward.

  Scab after scab kissed her hand and dropped their tributes until one of them, wearing an unusually-bright color, caught Chloe’s eye. The image of the woman being drained of her blood as Chloe had watched from Bram’s window flashed before her. The scab who had murdered that poor woman circled her now, wearing the woman’s teal scarf like a sadistic memento. Only now, the scarf was stained by her blood in unusual patterns and was about to be given to Chloe as tribute while she pretended to be Famke. She screamed on the inside at the thought.

  She watched as the scab wearing the teal scarf drew closer and prepared to offer his tribute. As it ran at her, Chloe shoved Bram away, grabbed a faerie whip from her wrist, and flung it around the scab’s neck. It screeched and howled, looking to Bram in confusion. It wanted to flee its trap, but didn’t. Without hesitation, Chloe slipped her fingers into the brass knuckles and rammed the silver trench spike into the scab’s heart. The creature’s scream was a tormented, deafening cry. But it wasn’t the creature who was screaming; it was Chloe. The creature himself seemed content to die at her h
and.

  The scab’s flesh turned into veins of molten lava around the stake. Chloe pulled the weapon from his chest and backed away. The entire body combusted into tiny fiery cinders and exploded into nothing more than flakes of ash. The woman’s bloody teal scarf floated to the ground. She watched as the tiny fiery cinders floated up and away as the evidence of her kill disappeared on the wind. Chloe picked up the scarf and brushed off some residual scab dust. Crumpling the scarf into a ball, she threw it at the scabs encircling her and screamed. Her scream was feral, instinctual, pained. Several of the dead scab’s pack howled and hissed as they dropped their own human tokens to the ground. Hats, purses, and, sadly, even a doll were dropped to the ground. All the other packs seemed to vanish back into the shadows. Then, a bigger scab Chloe assumed to be the dead scab’s alpha, snarled and came forward.

  “Get behind me,” Bram demanded. “Now!”

  Chloe did as he asked but kept her stake at the ready. She welcomed another fight, even if it was with an alpha, but, then, all the scabs came forward. “They’re no match for a royal, right? Let alone my guard. Why are they challenging me?”

  “Not challenging, sacrificing. Honor demands that if a royal is displeased with one pack member the entire pack must die.”

  “Shit! How many are there?”

  “Eight or ten give or take. And they won’t go down without a fight either. Honor demands…”

  She cut him off. “Your society is really fucked up; you know that right?”

  Bram scoffed almost joyfully, as if he’d been longing for a battle. “You have no idea.” He looked back at her. “You ready for this?” His confidence filled the air around them as if it were a tangible thing. Bram seemed to be in his element, like he was born to dominate in battle.

  Chloe was intoxicated by it. If not for the impending fight, she thought she’d likely get lost to it. She tried to ignore the sexual energy. “Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice.”