The Witch's Quest

“Trouble is never in relationships,” Kelyn said sharply.

Now he eyed her legs and squinted. He bent to study behind her, and there was nothing Valor could do to stop him, because she was stuck there.

“You’ve been pinned!” He gripped her by the shoulders. “What the hell? Why didn’t you say something? I thought you were just lying around, digging up—whatever weird stuff it is you witches dig up in forests. Did you plan on staying here the rest of the night without saying anything?”

“I don’t have much of a choice. I’m stuck! And my phone is in the spell box, which got crushed by the falling troll. I was prepared to die out here until you came along. And then your abs distracted me and I forgot to ask for help.”

“Really?” He gave her the most unbelieving look ever and slapped a hand over his glittery abs. “That’s your story?”

She nodded. “And I’m sticking to it.”

“You’re pinned, Valor! That only ever ends in death. How did this happen?”

“I was minding my own business, plucking some mushrooms—”

“Minding your own...? You were performing a spell!”

“Maybe.”

“Valor! Even if you weren’t, you’ve taken things.” He gestured to the mangled tackle box. “Nothing should ever be taken out from the Darkwood. Especially not for magics that are not faery blessed.”

“You wouldn’t mind offering me a blessing or two right about now, would you?” she asked sheepishly.

Kelyn laughed softly. “I haven’t such power.”

“Stop laughing. It’s not funny. I’m going to die here. I don’t know how to get unpinned. My legs... They’re getting sucked deeper and deeper. Kelyn...”

Now she surrendered to the worrying reality of imminent death. She gasped and heaved in breaths quickly. Was this what a panic attack felt like?

Kelyn gripped her by the shoulders and she had to crane her neck awkwardly to meet his delving gaze. In that moment, Valor wished she’d known about his affection toward her. He was a handsome man. And a kind one, from what she knew about him. Always volunteering around town, and he helped rehabilitate injured raptors from what she remembered Trouble telling her. The complete opposite of his boisterous and cocky older brother.

Curse her attraction to the bad boys.

“I can go for help,” he said.

She grabbed his forearms, keeping him there before her. If he left her alone, she’d die. Already she had been consumed up to her thighs. “Get help from who? There’s no one who can help me but a faery. You’re a faery. Can’t you do something? Your magic works in this forest.”

He sighed heavily and shook his head. “I can fly and I’ve strength immeasurable and can even work some cool spells with my sigils, but I am mortal-realm-born. I’ve not half the power of those from Faery. And if you’ve been pinned by a faery tree, then you are in need of serious enchantment to get free. How long have you been here?”

“A couple hours? I came here around six.”

“It’s almost midnight, Valor.”

“Shit. I’ll be dead before morning.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

He was sweet. But if he had no faery powers to defeat this pinning, she didn’t know what he could do. She’d already insulted him once. She didn’t intend to go to her maker having insulted him a second time. “Thanks. Maybe... Could you try my cell phone?”

“Where is it?”

“In my box.”

Picking through the crushed plastic tackle box, he found the purple phone, but with a few taps at the cracked screen, he announced, “It’s dead. Technology doesn’t work here in the Darkwood. Hey, Blade’s place is at the other end of the forest. I can run there and make a call—”

“No.” She stretched out an arm, her fingers groping desperately. Kelyn’s fingers threaded with hers. It was a natural clasp, something that felt hopeless yet bolstered her courage a little. “I don’t want to be alone. Just stay with me, please?”

“Of course I will.” He folded his legs and sat before her, not releasing her hand from his calming clasp. “We’ll think about this. We’ll come up with something.”

“Actually, what I want you to do is listen to the things I need you to tell my friends.”

Kelyn bracketed her face fiercely. “Don’t talk like that. You will not die.”

“Lying about my fate isn’t going to change it. I did a stupid thing. The universe renders payment for stupidity.”

“You were not stupid. Just...stubborn.”

“So you’ve heard about me?” She tried a little laugh and it actually eased the tension between her shoulder blades. Valor blew out a breath.

And in that moment, when she knew death was her only option, she decided she couldn’t walk out of this world without one last thing. “Kiss me,” she said suddenly.

“What?”

“You want to, don’t you? I mean, if you had a thing for me?”

“I did, but...”

“Please, Kelyn? I want the last thing I remember to be a kiss from a handsome man. I want to be held in strong arms. I want to know passion—”

And he kissed her. The sudden connection seared a delicious heat onto Valor’s lips. Kelyn’s arm wrapped across her back as he slid down onto the moss beside her and pulled her in tightly against his hard body. His other hand clutched at her hair. Hungrily she took from him, falling into his sweet taste, his open and easy manner. He felt like something she’d always wanted but had never known to ask for.

Why had she never noticed he’d been attracted to her?

Because she’d been too busy tagging along with the bad boys. Or those men who could only ever consider her one of the guys.

When he parted from her, their eyes lingered upon each other, as if to look away would end the kiss, their connection—her life. So they held gazes in the quiet darkness, dappled by a beam of moonlight that sifted through the latent troll dust in the air about them.

The squeezing pressure about her thighs moved higher, yet all Valor could do was whisper, “Wow.”

Kelyn nodded. He touched her lips and held his fingers there for the longest time. She closed her eyes to fix this moment forever. She must. She would die with the taste of his kiss on her mouth.

“Best kiss I’ve ever had,” he said.

She nodded and closed her eyes even tighter, fighting tears. Damn right it had been the best.

“Ah, shit.”

That remark sent a frozen chill up her spine. Valor could feel Kelyn’s sudden tension and she knew they were not alone. Please don’t be another troll, she thought. Slowly she opened her eyes to see the pair of red irises that loomed over the two of them.

Chapter 2

Kelyn stepped before Valor, protecting her from the demon who had appeared in the forest. It was one of the Wicked; Kelyn knew that because the creature had red eyes. The Wicked were faeries who possessed demon heritage. Demons were looked down upon in Faery, and so the Wicked were condemned and ridiculed. This one must have been ousted from Faery. Not an uncommon thing.

Seeming to blend with the shadows that angled between the thin moonbeams, the demon topped Kelyn by a head, yet its narrow shoulders, clothed in frayed black, were deceptive in that most demons were strong and quite capable of standing up to any opponent.

“We mean you no harm,” Kelyn said coolly, yet maintained a sharp edge. He set back his shoulders. He would not be defeated by a demon. “I’ve no prejudice against any of your kind. Move along.”

“Prejudices,” the demon said in a slippery tone. The dark-faced entity smirked, its black lips crimping. “You ascribe to prejudice simply by mentioning it. Unwanted one.”

Kelyn did not flinch at the moniker. He’d never been allowed access to Faery. His mother was a faery and his father a werewolf. Because he’d been born in the mortal realm, Faery was not open to him. Though he’d always pined to go there. To learn about his true heritage.

The demon tilted a look toward the ground, taking in Valor, pinned to the forest floor by the elder oak. “Looks like she’s in a pinch.”

“Nothing we can’t handle,” Kelyn said. “Right, Valor?”

“Uh, yep. We’re good!”

“A witch and a faery,” the demon said. “Pretty.” He narrowed his gaze at Kelyn’s neck, where he always wore two talismans on leather cords. “Interesting. You’ve been to Faery?”

“No,” Kelyn answered.

“But that talisman.” The demon tapped his own neck.

“A gift. Now, enough of this. Begone with you!”

“Very well. But you’ll never get her loose. She’s been pinned through to Faery.”

“How do you know? What does that mean?” Valor rushed out.

“It means you must be unpinned from Faery,” the demon explained.

Sensing the demon wasn’t so much being helpful as teasing at the dreadful future that awaited Valor, Kelyn did not relent in his stance before her and only wished he’d brought along his bow and arrows this evening. But he could take this dark creature. Easily.

The demon eyed Kelyn’s clenched fist. “You said you meant me no harm.”

“I’ll do what I must to defend her.”

“Touching. The dying witch has a faery champion.”

“Leave!” Kelyn said. “Take your smirk into the shadows and let us figure this out alone.”

“As you wish.” The demon stepped back and spread his elongated hands out before him. “But, unlike you, I have access to Faery. I can get into Faery and unpin her. If you wish it.”

Valor didn’t say anything, and Kelyn was thankful she hadn’t rushed to beg the demon for the help.

But really? If the Wicked could get Valor unpinned, he’d be willing to do anything. Even take a few spiteful punches, if necessary. Because Valor’s life was at stake. And she hadn’t much time remaining. Her hips were beginning to sink into the ground.

“You tell me true?” Kelyn asked.

The demon nodded. “I am not heartless. And...you have something I want.” Again the demon’s eyes glanced across Kelyn’s chest where the talismans hung.

Of course such assistance would not be provided without recompense. Which was fair enough, Kelyn thought. He felt Valor’s hopeful breaths taint the air. She needed rescue and he would not leave this forest without her in his arms. Alive.

“What might that be?” Kelyn asked the sly demon.

The demon smiled and walked before him, turning in a half circle before coming around to face them both and saying, “Your wings.”

“No!” Valor yelled from behind Kelyn.

“That’s the deal. Take it or leave it,” the demon said.

“We don’t—”

“Valor,” Kelyn said to shush her. “Be still.”

“You can’t give him your wings. They are what make you...you! That’s a terrible thing to ask in trade for—”

“For a life?” the demon interjected. “Seems more than fair to me. But if you’re not keen on breathing, witch, then so be it.”

The demon’s eyes glimmered vivid pink. He was preparing to flash out of the forest as swiftly and quietly as he had appeared.

“Wait!” Kelyn reacted from his heart and soul, not his better senses. “You can have them.”

The demon smiled.

“Absolutely not!” Valor punched the ground with an ineffectual fist.

Kelyn turned to face her, and the spill of tears down her cheeks startled him. Wasn’t she the feisty tomboy of the group of witches who owned a local brewery? The one who hung around with Sunday and fixed cars and motorbikes, and never met a greasy engine she didn’t want to take apart?

Or so he’d heard. He’d made it a point to listen when Valor was spoken about. Because he had lusted after her. Had wanted to ask her out. And almost did. Until...Trouble.

But with the lingering taste of her kiss still on his lips, he couldn’t deny that those feelings had not grown any lesser.

“You are not going to sacrifice your wings for me,” Valor said on a desperate pleading tone. “Just go! Get out of here!”

“And allow you to die? I am a better man than that. It’s not my nature to walk away when I can help.”

“Help? No! Just no! I couldn’t live with myself if you gave up your wings to save me.”

“Well, you’re going to have to.”

He tugged his ankle away from her grasping, pleading hands and turned to the demon. With an inhale that shivered through his system and tweaked at his back between his shoulder blades where his wings could unfurl, he grasped decisiveness. “We have a deal. But you will promise you’ll go immediately to Faery and unpin Valor.”

“With your wings in hand, my entrance to Faery will be secured. The moment you hand them over to me, I will leave and unpin your tragic lover.”

Kelyn almost said “She’s not my lover,” but semantics were less important than getting this cruel task completed. Because to sacrifice his wings would be like handing over himself. He’d become lesser. Not even the faery he was now. He would lose...

Kelyn held out his hands. The violet sigils that circled his wrists were a match for those sigils on his chest. They were his magic. His strength. As were his wings.

But to walk away from a helpless woman when he had a means to save her?

“Do it,” Kelyn said firmly.

The demon thrust out his arm, and in his blackened hand materialized a gleaming sword of violet light. “Kneel, faery.”

Feeling the intense sidhe magic that emanated from the weapon shimmer in his veins, Kelyn dropped to his knees, his side facing the demon.

“No” gasped from Valor’s lips.

Lips he’d kissed, and on which he’d tasted a sweet promise. But he must never taste that promise again. He couldn’t bear it.

“Do it!” he yelled.

And his wings shivered as he unfurled them and stretched them out behind him into the fresh spring air. Moonlight glamorized the sheer violet appendages, glinting in the silver support structure that held a close resemblance to dragonfly wings.

The violet blade swept the night. Ice burned through Kelyn’s body as blade met wing, bone, skin and muscle, and severed each of the four wings cleanly from his back. Overwhelmed by a searing agony, Kelyn choked back the urge to scream and dropped forward onto his elbows. His fingers dug deep into the cool moss. He gritted his jaw, biting the edges of his tongue.

Behind him, Valor screamed.

He wasn’t aware as the demon gripped his severed wings and, in a shimmer of malevolence, flashed out of the Darkwood.

Bile curdled up Kelyn’s throat. His stomach clenched. His wingless back muscles pulsed in search of flight. Clear ichor, speckled with his innate faery dust, spilled over his shoulders and dribbled down his arms to the backs of his hands. The violet sigils about his wrists glowed and then...flashed away, leaving his skin faintly scarred where the magical markings had been since birth.

The witch muttered some sort of incantation that felt like a desperate blessing wrapped in black silk and tied too tightly for Kelyn to access.

He wanted to scream. To die. To curse the witch. To curse his own stupidity.

But what he instead did was nod and suck back the urge to vomit. The task had been done.

He would not look back.

Suddenly Valor’s body lunged forward, her hands landing on his bare feet. The tree roots had spat her up, purging her from the earth. She scrambled over them alongside him. The demon had kept his word, unpinning her from the Faery side.

Good, then. His sacrifice had been worth it.

“Oh, my goddess. Your wings.” Valor gasped. “I... Kelyn?”

“Go,” he said tightly.

“What?”

“Leave me, witch! Get out of this forest and never return. This is not a place for you. Be thankful for your life.”

“Yes, but—I’m thankful for what you’ve—”

“We will never speak of this again,” he said forcefully. Still, he crouched over the mossy ground, unwilling and unable to twist his head and face the witch. “Please, Valor,” he said softly. “Go.”

If she did not leave, he would never rise. He didn’t want her to see him wingless and broken. Hobbled by his necessity for kindness, to not abandon a condemned woman.

“You need someone to look after those wounds,” she said. “I might be able to find a proper healing spell if you’ll walk out of here with me.”

“I need you to leave,” he insisted sharply. “I will walk out of the Darkwood on my own. When I am able. Do you understand?”

He sensed she nodded. The witch’s footsteps backed away from him. She uttered a sound, as if she would again protest, and then the soft cush of her boots crushing moss moved her away from him.

And Kelyn let out his breath and collapsed onto the forest floor.

Chapter 3

Two months later

Valor walked down the street, her destination was the gas station on the corner. She had a craving for something sweet and icy that at least resembled food and that would probably give her a stomachache. It was what she deserved.

When she spied the classic black Firebird cruise by, she picked up her pace and then halted on the sidewalk but a dash from the parking lot where the car had pulled in to stop before a hardware store. That was Kelyn Saint-Pierre’s car. His brother Blade had fixed up the 1970s’ vehicle with spare parts and a wicked talent for auto body reconstruction. She knew it was Kelyn’s car because she’d been trying to speak to him for months. Ever since their harrowing encounter in the Darkwood.

When he had sacrificed his wings for her.

She wanted him to know she had not taken that sacrifice lightly. That it meant something to her. But she didn’t have a clue how to tell him that. To not make it sound like a simple yet dismissive “Hey, thanks.” And she’d been racking her brain for ways to repay him. But how did one offer something equal to the wings that were once his very identity?

She’d researched faeries and their wings. Wings were integral to their existence; when faeries lost them, they lost so much more. Like their innate strength and power. And sometimes even the ability to shift to small size, as the majority of faeries could do. And Kelyn could never again fly.

The man had to be devastated. And now, as she watched him get out of his car and stride toward the hardware store, Valor couldn’t push herself to rush after him. But she had to. She owed him.

A tight grip about her upper arm stalled her from taking another step toward apologizing to Kelyn. Valor turned and shrugged out of Trouble Saint-Pierre’s pinching hold. Built like an MMA fighter, the man exuded a wily menace that also disturbed her need to give him a hug. They had once been friends.

Had been.

“What?” She rubbed her arm. He hadn’t been gentle.

“You looking to talk to my brother?”

“Yes,” she said defensively.

Bravery sluiced out of her heart and trickled down to puddle in her combat boots. Trouble was the sort of man who could be imposing even when asleep. The two of them had once been drinking buddies. Now he avoided her as much as Kelyn did.

“I have to—”

“No, you don’t,” he interrupted with that gruff but commanding tone that warned he meant business. “You stay the hell away from my brother. You’ve done him enough damage.”

“But I want to apologize. I know I’ve hurt him. Trouble!”

He shoved her aside and strode toward his brother’s car, but as he stalked away, he turned and thrust an admonishing finger at her. And Valor flinched as if he’d released magic from that accusing fingertip.

She would not give up. There had to be a way to get Kelyn’s wings back for him. And she wouldn’t rest until she did.

Two months later

It had now been four months since that fateful night in the forest, and Kelyn had survived the loss with his head held high and his dignity intact. He could no longer shift to small size, nor could he fly. The faery sigils had disappeared from his wrists and chest, rendering his magic ineffective. But he still had his dust and—well, that was about it. His strength? Gone. When once he could beat Trouble at arm wrestling in but a blink, now his brother did his best not to win, even though Kelyn knew he was faking.

And he’d lost his connection to nature, which had once been as if his very heartbeat. Senses attuned to the world, he’d navigated his surroundings by ley lines and had listened to the wind for direction and tasted water in the stream for clues to weather and more. As a result of losing his wings, he now always felt lost.

But he wouldn’t bemoan his situation or complain or even suggest to others what a terrible life he now had. Because he was thankful for life. Such as it was.

Sitting in the corner of the local coffee shop, nursing a chai latte, he scanned the local job advertisements in the free paper he’d grabbed before walking inside. Much as the Saint-Pierre children had never needed to work, thanks to their parents’ forethought to invest for each of the five of them when they were born, he now needed...something. He hadn’t volunteered at The Raptor Center since losing his wings. It felt wrong to stand in the presence of such awesome nature and feel so lacking. And with the proper care, those birds could heal and then fly away. Something he could never hope to do again.

So, what could a faery who wasn’t really a faery anymore do with himself? His utter uselessness weighed heavily on his shoulders. He needed to do something. To move forward, occupy his thoughts and forget about what haunted him every second of every minute of every day.

Lately, he wasn’t even interested in women. Because though he never revealed he was faery to the mortal women he had dated, he still felt different. Set apart. And he couldn’t get excited about going to a bar or dancing or even a hookup when that missing part of him ached.

It did ache. His back, where his wings had been severed, put out a constant dull throb. Always reminding him of the wings he once had.

Closing his eyes and tilting his head back against the café wall, he zoned out the nearby conversations and set the paper on the table. He needed a new start. But he wasn’t sure what that implied or how to go about it. Two of his brothers were werewolves involved with their packs. No faeries allowed. And while his interests had tended toward the martial arts and archery, he didn’t feel inspired.

When a rustle at his table alerted him, he didn’t open his eyes. It was probably the barista refilling his chai. She did it at least twice on the afternoons he parked himself here in the sunny corner away from the restrooms and bustle of the order line.

But when he didn’t smell the sweet spices of fresh chai infusing the air, he opened one eyelid. And sat up abruptly, gripping his empty paper cup and looking for an escape route.

“Kelyn, please, give me two minutes. Then I’ll leave. Promise.”

Valor Hearst sat across the small round table from him, her palms flat on a half piece of blue paper that hadn’t been there before. Every hair on Kelyn’s body prickled in anger and then disgust. And then...that deep part of him that had compelled him to protect her in the forest emerged and he relaxed his shoulders, allowing in a modicum of calm. And desire.

He nodded but didn’t speak.

“Trust me,” she said, “I’ve been wanting to speak to you ever since...” She looked aside, as did he. No one in the town knew what paranormal secrets the two possessed. “But I was scared. And so freaked. And then your brother told me to stay away from you. But I was determined. And now I have it.”

She patted the blue paper. “I know how to get your wings back.”

* * *

“First...” Valor shifted on the metal café seat, uncomfortable and nervous. The blond faery eyed her with a mix of what she guessed was anger and revulsion. Well deserved. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t—” he tensed his jaw for a moment, then finished “—say that.”

“But I am. Kelyn, I’m sorry for what happened in the forest. It was my fault. I am so grateful to you. And you shouldn’t have done it. You should have let me die. I’m just...so, so sorry.”

“It was a choice I made. You did not influence me or have a part in that decision one way or another. So stop saying sorry.”