Fairy Flavor (9 page)

backward. “Oh, hell no…” Trolls. “Ugly mother fuckers.” She used her free

leg to kick the face, sent it spiraling backward into more of them. They were

better climbers than she was. She looked upward, almost there. She was too

close to fail.

“Carrick!” she cried out, another hand grabbed her. This time, it also

snatched her other leg and yanked. The force separated her from the hill; she

fell backwards, screamed her fairy’s name as she tumbled. Over and over she

rolled. Her back hitting the roots that once helped her. Pain burst through her

skull, dizziness threatened to tear her apart and then she skidded to a violent

stop. Rough dirt scraped exposed skin as she managed to shift to her back.

Staring up at the darkening sky did not lend her hope.

They were there. Ugly bastards had surrounded her. The skin around

their cat eyes was thick and clumped. Teeth filled with fangs, no hair to speak

of and one leaned down to her with a demonic grin. They had bodies like men

with shoulders, chests, arms, legs but they were smaller and out of proportion.

“We’ve caught you, Queen.”

Feeling brave or maybe it was the hit to the head, Brook spit in its face.

“Kiss my ass.” Carrick would save her. Her fairy man would come to her

rescue and kill these things. Why was it suddenly darker? The sun was setting

too fast. Her eyelids drooped and consciousness faded away.

****

was the fastest flyer and the best tracker. He aimed for Brook’s home, and his

head screamed with worry.

“You cannot follow…” Keyn spoke quietly from his side.

“I have too…” It was his love, his queen. The other fairies hand lay on

his shoulder to hinder his movements but also to render some comfort.

“And…if it’s a trap or worse, they could be attacking our land right

now. Flance and Bray could be in danger. If there’s a large party then the other

will not be able to defeat them all.”

Keyn was right. Focus left him; common sense was buried under his

heart-breaking worry. “…If it is a trap…Thame is in trouble…” Everyone

needed his help, and he was but one fairy. He wanted to send them to Brook

but then what of his kingdom? Carrick could not choose between his home and

his heart.

“We should return home, check the border and Thame will contact you

quickly. He’s the quickest of us all.”

With a glance at the sky, his wings lifted him off the ground and Keyn

was by his side the entire time. He fought panic and hurtled toward home.

****

Thame left the King and never looked back. Not only was the queen

missing, but his friends. If the trolls or some disgusting humans tried to harm

them, he’d give no mercy.

The sun warmed his skin as he travel past their home, which lay quiet

and at first glance, untouched. He flew further East toward Brook’s dwelling.

The closer he came to her residence, the more prominent the smell of blood

became. He flapped faster; his eyes scanned the area as the roof of the house

appeared. It seemed undisturbed and then he heard the wail, the scream that

left his emotions exposed.

He raced forward, landed on the front lawn and found the remnants of

battle. Four trolls dead, fairy blood splattered the walls, and trailed inside. It

was inside the front door he heard another frantic cry and Mord’s bloody face

jerked toward him.

Thame was motionless those first few moments unable to face the truth

that the bloody heap in his arms was Wick. His wings were torn, his chest a

mass of blood and ravaged skin. “What…” He cleared his throat and knelt

beside them. “Can you fly?” Mord quietly nodded his head. “I’ll carry

Wick…where’s Brook?”

“Gone, they took her. The trolls grabbed her.” He looked lost and

Thame quickly gathered the fallen fairy in his arms. “Make sure Brielle is

awaiting us.” It would take longer for him to arrive home because of the extra

weight. He would gladly make that trip a hundred times, if it ensured Wick’s

survival. Mord took off into the sky, and after a quick prayer to the Goddess,

Thame joined him.

****

Brook knew Carrick had not arrived the moment she became aware.

Her eyes had yet to open, but she did not feel his touch. She didn’t feel content

or safe, and she knew her screams had gone unanswered.

The floor beneath her was hard and cold. Her body ached like it had

been kicked a hundred times. This damn headache made her want to heave

with each breath, and only fear kept her from moving. The trolls had taken her;

she took a slow breath as to not attract attention and opened her eye a slit. No

ceiling, stars, no tree branches yet there was no grass tickling her skin.

Shit, she’d have to take a chance and really look to even get a bearing.

In one quick move, she opened her eyes glanced around and shut them.

That had been the worst plan - ever. Now she knew she was not anywhere on

the surface, there was no light and the walls were rock around her. She was

somewhere unexpected and terrifying. The troll’s home or lair or wherever

they gathered, it had to be, and she was just inside a dark cave that just might

lead to hell.

“I think we should nibble on her a wee bit.” A thick, Irish accent

sounded from a nearby troll.

She swallowed hard to keep her body from shuddering.

“No, he said not to harm her.”

“It won’t kill her to have a few bite marks…”

The bastard moved closer, his voice a scant breath away from her ear.

Stay calm, Brook.
She tried chanting the words. Over and over as fowl breath whispered over the flesh of her neck. All she had to do was remain calm and

await her fairy man.

If only it was that fucking easy.

Something had gone terribly wrong. Carrick knew it the second Thame

returned with a bloody Wick sprawled in his arms.

“What happened?” he yelled the words amid the chaos.

Brielle rush past him. Her long, blonde hair trailed behind in a tangle as

she scurried for the wounded. He turned to his men. The room erupted in

shouts as Mord entered. He too was covered with blood. “What in the

Goddess’s name happened?”

“They were attacked.” Brielle’s angelic voice reached his ears. “Trolls,

no doubt. Your human is not with them…” Her voice trailed off as blood

sprouted from Wick’s chest.

Those words echoed. Brook was not with them, gone, alone with trolls

after her. “Thame with me, everyone else on full guard.” He pushed his wings

out and glanced at his warrior. “No mercy.” Not when those cowardly bastards

captured his queen. He rushed from the room, his wings fluttered madly as he

headed for the surface.

Brook’s house was a tale of blood. Streaks lined her walkway, bright

marigolds crushed, and four troll bodies lay just outside the doorway. They

would perish in a few hours. Wither away to dust and scatter in the wind.

Carrick stepped over the corpses and glanced around the lonely home.

“Brook?” He knew she wasn’t here by the lack of her vibrant presence

but had to try. “Thame do you see anything?”

The other fairy shook his head and slowly followed.

“Wait…” They both froze. “The door is open, blood trail leads here and

out…” They followed the frantic footsteps of a woman and the predators that

chased her. “She ran away…” Thame spoke in low tones, flying a few feet

before returning to the ground and sifting through the dirt.

Carrick trailed. This fairy was the best tracker in all the land. He flew

over the field, weaved between trees and realized they were heading home.

Brook had tried to find him, and he’d failed her. He fought the anger, the guilt

and focused on the tracks.

Once they found her, he would deal with his failure. His heart lurched

as they came to a hill, high with ridged edges. It was just beyond the doorway

to his kingdom. Had Brook been this close?

“She was here…” Thame tilted his head, caressed the dirt with his

fingers. “They took her…” He growled the words, shot into the air and raced

off.

Carrick was on his heels. He knew where they were heading. Toward

the trolls cave of darkness. They were scattered along the hills in any cave their

worthless backsides could cower. To get to Brook, he would cut every one of

them down. He only hoped it didn’t get his fairies killed.

****

pretend ignorance. She already discovered several trolls wanted to eat her;

wasn’t that a pleasant thought? Only their leader stood between them.

Apparently, the troll king wanted her for himself. What a fucking

gentleman. She also had to pee so damn bad. She checked moments ago and it

seemed that with sunrise the trolls felt the need to sleep. Each had taken up a

space and sat with their short legs crossed. Maybe it was a form of meditation?

She had no idea, and had no inkling whatsoever to find out. Brook

peeked once more and each had closed their eyes. It was now or pee in her

pants, which would not be a pretty sight when Carrick came to her rescue. He

would come; she had complete faith in the not-so-imaginary creature that stole

her heart.

Brook rolled to her side, kept silent as she listened closely. Then she

shifted to her knees, awaited the yell of a pissed off troll but none sounded. It

took slow precise movements to stand while making no noise. She was not

trained in stealth but smiled when she took that first step. Proud of her sneaky

motions, she took another lurch toward freedom.

The plan was to follow the tracks they made back. That way she had a

good chance of blending footprints, and she would not get lost. The cluster of

troll prints should bring her right to that hill and Carrick. Several more wide

steps away, and she was out of their sight.

By the time these suckers woke up, she’d be in her fairy man’s arms.

Brook was also going to ask Wick to teach her to kick a troll’s ass. She was

damn tired of being the helpless female in need of rescue. Of course, Carrick

could save her anytime he wanted. He looked way too scrumptious wielding

that sword in a loincloth. She stumbled, cursed quietly and continued her jog

away from the enemy.

It had to be at least a mile she’d traversed, and this was completely

unfair. Seriously, the heroines in movies and books never have to stop their

grand escape to pee. She grumbled, but stayed on the path in the dense trees.

With her hands tied, it was a major issue unzipping and tugging her pants

down. It took some balancing skill to squat but she was victorious.

The trip up, however, not so well. Brook wobbled, and landed on her

knees. Her ass was in the air and her shaven nether lips on display. She scuttled

to her feet, glared around as she yanked her clothes upward. Now with her

nudity covered and her bladder relieved, she continued on her extraordinary

escape. At least she was going to tell everyone it was an astonishing getaway.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Brook froze; she knew damn well that was not a troll’s hoarse voice.

Holding her breath, she turned, and her mouth instantly opened. When did her

escape plan include a red haired hottie randomly appearing out of the woods?

This strange man stood before her, but he sure as hell wasn’t human.

He looked like a sex god and was clearly taller than Carrick with these green

eyes that seemed to swirl. Dark red hair clung to his shoulders. The sunrays on

the locks seemed to create this glitter effect. His body was sheer muscle with a

hairless chest, wide shoulders and thick arms. Thankfully, he wore tight pants.

“You have some nasty trolls on your heels.” His voice was a sensual

concoction, a deep rumble of words.

“I noticed that. You wouldn’t happen to know the way to the fairy

kingdom, would you?”

He took a step forward, and she felt the need to move back. This man

oozed sexuality.

“It’s okay.” He held up his hands in retreat. “King Carrick’s kingdom?”

That sounded promising, so she nodded.

“You are long gone from his lands.”

Maybe not. “Please, I have to get there.” A troll screech sounded, and

she gasped, looked frantically toward the path she had just taken.

“I do believe they’ve discovered your absence.” He held out his hand.

“Trolls are deplorable creatures. I will not leave you here for them.”

“I don’t even know your name,” she spoke, heard another screech and

placed her hand in his. “I’m Brook…”

“Valen Renalt.” He smiled and Brook’s mouth fell open. He was a sex

God on steroids. She was in so much trouble.

****

torture. Carrick slashed upwards, his booted foot slammed into a troll’s

midsection. Thame was by his side, his own blade in the air. Black blood

stained the ground as the two fairy warriors tore their enemies apart. Despite

his fury, the king needed one spineless troll to live.

They tried to run, flee from the fairy king that wanted nothing more

than to crush them into the dirt. First, he wanted his queen. “Where is she?”

His words were whispered as he leaned close the troll that Thame held steady.