Incubus

1

Nathan Grier hit the ground hard on his hands and knees, gasping for breath. Traveling through the Veil with Jim had always been so effortless. Nathan had forgotten how much his brother’s presence protected him. Without Jim, even a brief trip just hurteverywhere.

Pushing up from the ground and sitting back on his heels, Nathan gulped down air to steady his pulse. He looked around quickly, taking in the dark landscape. It was still night but there was light steadily growing on the horizon.

He did not have much time.

Nathan struggled to his feet and took a few pained steps forward to the edge of the cliff. Below was St. Brides Bay, empty of divers and kayaks at this early hour. Normally, Nathan would be able to clearly see the lush green hills, steep drop-offs, and spattering of flowers that had not yet died with the growing autumn cold, but for now the world was covered in darkness.

He pulled his jacket more tightly around him, swallowing hard as he peered down the long expanse to the beach below. The wind was whipping harshly through his short black hair as if it desired nothing more than to see him blown right over the edge.

Turning back to the Veil doorway he had come from, Nathan saw that it was no longer visible, though he knew it was still there. He had crossed the ocean in search of a Power Point strong enough to summon a Messenger. The doorway was where the Messenger would appear.

Nathan dropped back down to his knees, leaving the edge of the cliff behind him. Removing the small blade from the strap on his ankle, he cut a shallow but distinct divided circle into his left palm. He maintained the grip he had on his knife as he carefully pressed the bloody symbol he had carved into his hand to the grass and soil beneath him.

The words of the summoning spell poured from Nathan’s lips and, with every new line spoken, he could feel something like a current climbing up his arm from the ground. It almost hurt, almost renewed that awful pain he had felt when he first arrived, but he ignored the sensation. As the last line of the spell left him, Nathan stretched his bloody palm toward the doorway in offering.

Light erupted from the once again visible entrance into the Veil. The beauty of a true fae nearly blinded Nathan as the Messenger he had summoned stepped onto the cliff before him.

Nathan had seen fae on the other side of the Veil, but never a Messenger. Never any kind of sidhe. Sidhe were fae of royal blood, powerful, but incapable of leaving the Veil unless they were summoned. To see one as she truly was, in the mortal realm, without his brother’s protection, was almost more than Nathan’s all-too-human senses could bear. But he was too stubborn to be struck dumb by the sight of some damn faerie.

“Nathan Grier,” said the Messenger, sounding pleased. Her voice was like the wind and echoes in a cavern. She was beautiful, as all fae were, but Nathan knew she could also be terrible in appearance if she chose to be. Most fae looked human enough, but the Devil was in the details, and it was more their presence that overwhelmed than any physical trait.

The Messenger’s hair was auburn and impossibly long, as if it could become a cloak that would drape around her. Her eyes glowed amber from behind a bird-like mask of gold and red, with the long sharp beak covering most of her face.

This Messenger was a harpy. Her ears tapered to points, her fingernails were sharpened like talons, and the flowing fabrics that covered her body were shredded from harsh winds and battle. Although Nathan could not see wings, he heard the sound of flapping when she moved closer to him and gestured for him to stand.

Nathan could not afford to show fear. So he stood, confidently, still clutching his knife tightly in his uninjured hand, and spoke, “I offer a trade for the return of my brother.”

“Do you now?” said the Messenger. “We have been waiting years for James Grier to join the court. What could you possibly offer that would be worth more than a changeling?”

That word—changeling—made Nathan cringe, but he spoke on. “You can have me.”

“You?” The Messenger laughed. “You expect me to believe you would offer yourself and willingly become a Shadow Immortal? Aslave?”

Nathan straightened. “If that’s what it takes. You can’t claim a human slave unless they offer themselves freely, I know that, and it’s a rare thing to have these days. I will give myself to the dark fae court. Just return my brother and leave him alone.”

The Messenger’s head tilted toward Nathan, clearly intrigued.