Rise of the Fae: The Society, #2

Chapter One

Selene stared into the luminescent void, her breathing short, eyes watering from the glow. The surface rippled with light and dark swirling together, waiting to swallow her. Her heartbeat drummed like a hummingbird’s. It’d been over two decades since she’d seen one. How long had it been here without her noticing? So many years she’d searched for one, and now one awaited just within her grasp.

She glanced around the glade. The sickly—sweet scent of the blossoms growing next to the cherished altar churned her stomach. Her blood still stained the massive alabaster stone she’d spent weeks tied to, despite her being ordered to scrub it till it shone.

Hushed footsteps swished behind her. The Council of Elders had chosen her for this mission, but not because they liked her, let alone trusted her. No, they chose her because no one else who could do what they needed done.

Selene. Are you ready, daughter? Her mother’s smooth voice floated over Selene’s neck, making her body tingle. Mother had never sounded so passive and distant when they’d lived on the Earth realm. Her hand fell like a feather upon Selene’s shoulder.

Selene nodded mutely, her gaze never leaving the portal, not daring to give away her desire to race through the rift and disappear. Afraid that if she blinked she would find it had been another test she’d failed and be punished for.

We’re all counting on you, Selene. This is your chance to prove to everyone whose side you’re on. To avenge what’s been done and return honor to me, as well as give you what you’ve always wanted— a place to belong.

Her mother brushed the hair from Selene’s shoulder with thin, light fingers.

Selene balled her fists to keep from swatting them away.

Don’t let your feelings for Maelstrom get in the way of your mission. And don’t be distracted by the pleasures of that hedonistic place. It’s different now. Worse. The temptations are greater than ever now that the Vampires rule.

Selene’s throat dried like it had been scrubbed with sandpaper. She tried to conjure enough saliva to swallow. Ever since she’d left the Earth realm, she’d been trying to fit in, trying to prove herself, while secretly praying for a way out. Excitement and terror clenched her gut and made her palms sweat.

I won’t succumb. Was that too much glee in her voice? She turned her gaze from her means of escape to her mother’s beautiful face. Selene donned the placid expression that the High Elder had tried so hard to beat into her and lowered her eyes in the most demure of fashions. I will do my best, mother.

Be well, my daughter, and bring me honor. Her mother pushed something into her palm. There’s one of us on the other side. He’ll be your contact. When you’ve gotten close enough, and you’re ready for us to prepare the trap, he’ll contact us.

Move already!

Selene’s body lurched, and she took a step forward. Her gaze darted around to see if anyone had noticed, but all eyes remained on their feet.

Selene ran her fingers over the smooth amulet around her neck. Her heart tightened, and her skin tingled as she stepped up to the portal. The hairs rose on her arms as the surface snapped with magic. The desire to dive into the portal, to leap to freedom, caused her limbs to shake. Holding back was torture almost worse than the ones that had scarred her skin. She needed to be careful, patient. 

Don’t blow it.

And remember, my daughter, to wear your amulet always. It will keep you grounded.

Selene nodded, but the lilt of her mother’s voice made her want to cut her own ears off. She could hold back no longer. Smiling, she sucked in her last gulp of air and pressed her body into the portal.

The surface sucked her in like quicksand. Every molecule of her body shredded apart. She spun in a vortex, every piece of her moving faster than light, pulling to and fro; whirling, twisting, churning. She wanted to scream but had no voice. Propelled forward by the magic of the rift, Selene fought to stay conscious. Nausea and vertigo mixed in her separate pieces like a tornado through her atoms. To get anywhere close to Chicago, America, she had to focus her thoughts on something she remembered. She pictured Mason, tall and strong, the set of his jaw, the flex of his arms, his laugh, his smile, his rage. Every part of him came into clear, crisp focus.

Pressure built on her form, squeezing and reshaping her. Every part of her slammed together, and she fell. Head over ankles, she spun until she landed with a thud. Her skull struck solid ground, and she groaned. The smell of decay and grease filled her. Though she’d been away for more years than she cared to remember, the familiar scent made her laugh out loud.

Memories surfaced of the last time she’d been in the earthly realm and then she rolled on her stomach and retched. Her body trembled with exhaustion. Nausea tumbled through her, making her heave again. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and laughed again.

She’d made it. She was free. Free of her mother, free of the elders, free of the boredom.

The sounds of rock music played in the distance. Her eyes teared, and her eyelids spasmed as a flash of light struck her. Selene rolled away. The sharp pain in her knees and the gravel and pebbles grinding into the rest of her skin told her she was naked. Not to mention the breeze on her bare⁠—

Hey! Are you okay? a man called from the right.

Selene turned her head and tried to focus. A blurry figure moved closer. Hey. Heavy, cool fingers landed on her shoulder. What happened? Are you okay? You’re naked.

Someone wrapped a warm piece of clothing around her. The blurriness faded as she continued to blink.

Where’s your master? Who did this to you? asked the gray—skinned man.

Selene stumbled shakily to her feet and shoved her sore arms through a faded cardinal red flannel shirt. The man put his arm out to steady her, and she got a good look at where she’d ended up. She stood on a city sidewalk. Boarded up businesses scattered the road. Down the block, a customer exited a flashy convenience store.

Selene’s gaze lit on the older man next to her. His face held a soft quality, and wrinkles cut the corners of his eyes. His white, like salt hair, stood out all the more due to the dull bluish—gray color of his skin. 

You’re… You’re a vamp.

He chuckled. Yup. Haven’t been a human like you in almost twenty years now.

She’d not seen any humans mutated by the V2000 virus before her mom had forced her into the Fae realm. It amazed her how different from Vampires and vampyr they were. Vamps looked more like the undead from old movies and books than any pure—blooded Vampire or turned vampyr she’d ever seen.

Her stomach roiled again, and her knees shook as the aftereffects of portal travel bombarded her. Her head lightened, and she gripped the older man by his dirty undershirt. She needed to keep it together, needed to focus.

Where am I? Her words came out slow and slurred.

His brows furrowed. You’re in the Middle American Territory.

Selene’s entire body throbbed. Every remade particle burned like her body continued to restitch itself from the travel. She shook her head, trying to remember where she’d been going.

Chicago? She gulped in air. 

This is Chicago.

She’d made it. She planted a hard kiss on the old vamp and then backed up, taking in her home city. Laughing, she spun in a circle. I’m free!

She reached for her amulet and gasped. Like everything else, including the coin her mother had given her to help identify her contact on this side – it had disappeared. 

The coin she didn’t care about. She had no intention of contacting her mother or those like her ever again. But the amulet... She spun in a circle, scanning the ground. No, no, no! Panic lit within her.

Dammit.

Are you all right, miss? Can I help you get somewhere? The old man’s face held concern.

Selene scanned the area and memories rushed back to her and the pain lessened. I’m looking for Mael— Mason.

Is he your master?

Selene straightened. My master? Of course not. Why would he be my master? How could this man possibly think someone like her would have a master?

The old vamp looked Selene over. Well, you’re human, so…

Selene nodded, understanding. Her mother had told her the remaining humans were either slaves to the Vampires or had gone into hiding.

Come on, girl. Let me get you somewhere safe where they can figure out what to do with you.

Find Maelstrom.

Selene’s head whipped up, and she grabbed the man’s saggy wrist. Do you know Mason?

The vamp’s eyes widened. Are you sure you’re all right? 

Her heart sank. So, you don’t know him then.

 The only Mason I know of is the new mate of Lord Danika⁠—

Yes, that’s him. Selene gripped him tighter. She needed to get to Mason.

You… you don’t just go to see Lord Danika. But if you’ll come with me, I can make a couple of calls…

Take his money, said a familiar, commanding voice. 

Selene shook her head to rid herself of the voice. Give me your money.

The man stepped back. Selene glanced around and spotted an alley a few yards away. Quick as the wind, she grabbed the man around the neck, covered his mouth, and dragged him into the alley.

Sopor, she whispered into his ear. 

The vamp fell unconscious, and Selene laid him on the ground. She rifled through his pockets and found his wallet.

She’d made it through the toughest part, the rift. Now all she needed was clothing and a ride. So, when her mother’s people came to cleanse Earth, Mason would wipe them away instead.

Selene buttoned the flannel shirt, raced out of the alley and down the street. She stopped at the first intersection and looked up at the street sign. It took only a minute to orient herself and then she took off again toward the address programmed in her head.

More than once, a vamp called out to her and told her to stop. Twice, a vamp chased her, but she outmaneuvered them easily. Running at top speed, she tried not to linger in the depression cloaking Chicago like a death shroud.

The destruction the Vampires had wreaked on the human world went beyond what she’d envisioned. Stores boarded up. Whole blocks dark and desolate. Not that she could blame the Vampires solely. The humans were to blame as well.

She wondered if they’d ever figured out who had unleashed the V2000 virus that had mutated the majority of the human population into vamps. In truth, she was glad the V2000 virus hadn’t worked as designed. If it had, and the Vampires and vampyr had turned into daywalkers, who knew what Earth would have become.

After twenty minutes, Selene reached her destination. She rounded a corner, and the faded yet familiar awning came into view. Her chest tightened, and she choked out a sob. She didn’t move for several minutes. Staring at the building, memories of happier times washed over her, reminding her of who her mother had been before they’d run to the Fae. 

She darted across the street and pulled on the front door, but a padlock and chain bound it closed. 

Selene laid her palm on the padlock. Recludo.

The padlock clicked open. She yanked both it and the chain off and stepped through the door. Setting her hand on the frosted glass of the entrance, she peered out at the street to see if she’d been followed. Securus.

The door locks clicked, and Selene looked around the lobby. She let the silence of the building sooth her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been alone. In the Fae realm, she’d always been with her mother, or guarded, or watched. Like a prisoner they feared might escape, the Fae had never let her out of someone’s sight. 

The cream, dust—covered, plush chairs waited in the same places she remembered them. The guard’s desk sat vacant and unsecured for the first time she could remember. The chandelier swayed ominously overhead. Her feet peppered the marble floor in silent steps heading for the elevator. The brass doors still gleamed, and she caught a glimpse of herself, disheveled and dirty. She depressed the button, and to her surprise, the elevator opened.

Outside, a large vehicle pulled up to the building and stopped. Selene hurried into the elevator as two tall men in black fatigues approached the front door.

Her heart thundered as the men yanked on the doors. The elevator door rolled closed too slowly, but the lock spell held. The men knocked on the door and pulled on them again. Finally, the elevator closed and pulled upward with a grinding of the gears. Selene sank back against the mirrored wall and blew out a breath. So... looking like a human really did raise the alarm in the city. 

The bell rang, and she sprinted from the elevator, rushed to the end of the hall, and spelled the apartment door open.

Once inside, she moved to the window and peeled back the curtain an inch.

The sun had set, but the sky wasn’t completely murky yet.

Down below, the two men spoke and pointed. Eventually, they shrugged and drove away.

Selene dropped the chain and lock to the floor and plopped onto the plush, plum—colored sectional.

Home sweet home.

Chapter Two

The music from inside Club Midnight pounded against Neeman’s SUV as he pulled up to the curb. The vamp valet rushed to get the door, but he stepped out before the valet could open it.

Evening, Mr. Colter. The valet bowed. 

It’s Neeman.

The valet bowed again. Of course, Neeman.

Neeman sighed. Stop bowing. I’m not one of the Three Kings. I’m a soldier.

Soldiers deserve the highest respect, said the valet. You’re the ones who keep us safe.

Neeman stared at the young vamp for a minute. People usually feared him, not worshipped him. At a loss for words, he nodded, and the valet hopped into the SUV.

The queue to get into Midnight wrapped around the outer wall of the building. Vamps and vampyr lined up for hours waiting to get in. A young female vampyr eyed Neeman and smiled, thrusting out her chest. Neeman chewed the gum in his mouth once before swallowing it and heading for the entrance. Why did women feel the need to throw their bodies around to get what they wanted?

Riley slid from the vehicle. You want me to call the others and tell them where we are?

Why? It’s none of their business what I do.

A good Vampire, Riley hadn’t been with the Tracking Squad for more than a year. His lesser Vampire parents had nothing to offer him except a place in their technology company, so he’d asked to join the squad— to better his position within the Vampire society.

The Vampire bouncer who guarded the door didn’t even glance at Neeman before unlatching the rope and opening the door. Enjoy.

The music floating out of the bar assaulted him along with the sights and smells of the city night. Blood, sweat, and perfume wafted out to greet him. Neeman stepped into the establishment and pushed his way through the crowded bar. The vamp bartender caught his eye and nodded, his dreadlocks shaking over his shoulders.

Neeman slid through the multitude of bodies pressing against him and headed for the VIP section. Bright colored lights illuminated the dance floor and sent multicolored hues floating around the entire club. Suspended above the floor on platforms, vamp and vampyr females shook and writhed to the music for the enjoyment of the patrons— but Neeman barely spared them a glance.

A female vampyr slid up to him, pressing her mostly revealed flesh against him. Her wise, pale blue eyes scoured his body as she ran her fingers over his chest.

You’re Neeman. She smiled.

The girl’s long brown hair hung loosely around her, silhouetting her oval—shaped face and overly pouty lips.

Can I buy you a drink? Her short fangs gleamed in the dim light of the dance floor, illuminating the small teardrop rubies she’d inserted into them.

No. Thank you. Her face fell, and he swallowed hard at the disappointment in her eyes. Why couldn’t he say yes? A girl full of curvy loveliness any vampyr would die to have pressed underneath him didn’t even stir a flutter in his gut. Neeman reached around and grabbed Riley by the arm, yanking him forward. This is Riley. He’s one of the best trackers in my squad. I’m sure he’d be more than happy for a beautiful woman to buy him a drink.

I’m Lana, the female said, sidling up to Riley. 

Neeman ground his nails into his palms and cracked his knuckles. He slid around the girl, making a beeline for his table. In the past months, he’d taken more females to bed than he had in the whole of his long life. Since Danika had chosen Mason as her mate, Neeman had done anything and anyone to drown her memory. The fact that he was in a bar once more testified to the fact that he wasn’t succeeding. Why couldn’t he let the girl buy him a drink, screwed her in the bathroom, and then let her go? He’d done it a million times in the last months. The answer was simple; it didn’t help the pain.

Neeman reached his booth as the waitress showed up with a Savor and vodka. Keep ’em coming. 

The air held a heady scent, which set him on edge. The heightened energy of the patrons had everyone moving more frenzied than usual. He scanned the room for signs of trouble but couldn’t find anything amiss.

He reached for the glass and took a long sip. The synthetic O negative went down smooth with the burn of the vodka. It had been decades since Neeman had used alcohol to dull his pain, but somehow it had become a common occurrence of late. Images of the night he’d been turned flashed into his memory, drowning out the sights and sounds of the bar. The smell of death, the cold chill of a tight grip on his shoulder, the bloodshot eyes and long, gleaming fangs.

Neeman shook his head and downed the rest of his drink. A whoop and holler from the dance floor pulled his attention. His gaze swept the area again, but too many bodies made him unable to see anything.

Your drink, sir. The waitress set a second glass on the table. Neeman nodded, and she picked up the first glass and carried it away.

He scratched at his growing scruff. How long had it been since he’d shaved? Or cut his hair for that matter? Danika had always liked him clean—shaven, hair short.

The years they’d been together had been the happiest in his new existence. When she’d broken it off, he’d thrown himself into the Tracking Squad, making it more efficient than it had ever been, even better than when Roth had run it. His eye for detail and obsession for order had the group running with precision.

So much had changed in the past year. From Danika decreeing, humans no longer being slaves to humans being made into trackers. He barely recognized the woman Danika had become.

When she had returned to his life a year ago, he realized his feelings hadn’t changed. And he’d been so close this time to having her for good. But within a matter of days, he’d gone from being hopeful to devastated. He didn’t blame Mason or Danika. They were a formidable couple and, as dangerous as Mason’s Demon nature was, Danika couldn’t have a better protector from those who threatened her.

Danika’s uncle Chase remained out there somewhere, hiding in the shadows. He’d tried to kill Danika twice, and he’d try again, no doubt.

Neeman had all of his connections searching for Chase. It would be his pleasure to rip the pompous, self—righteous bastard limb from limb before serving him up to Danika and Mason.

Shouting emanated from the dance floor again and the crowd shifted. Females moved to the edge of the arena, and males migrated to the center. Neeman glanced at the bar for Riley but couldn’t spot him. Damn. He only wanted a few minutes to himself to unwind outside the barracks. Looked like he’d be breaking up a stupid vamp fight instead. After another shout, he downed his drink and headed for the upheaval. For a moment he wished he’d bought the smiling vampyr girl a drink instead of letting Riley have her.

The crowd parted around him as he stomped out to investigate the commotion. He stepped through a ring of vamps and vampyr and stopped short. His breath sucked in, and his chest tightened. A female, wearing little more than a bikini top covered in a flannel shirt and a pair of bootie shorts, danced in the center of the floor. Men ground and gyrated all around her, touching her in inappropriate places.

Neeman’s gut clenched. Her shoulder—length black hair swished around her neck as she swayed her hips in a sensuality rhythm that few possessed. For minutes, he did no more than stare. Then her scent hit him with force. She smelled of vanilla and cinnamon.

A young vamp bumped into another vamp. Without a word, the second lashed out and punched the first one in the face. Before Neeman could react, the males broke into an all—out brawl.

He moved like light into the fray, pulling the males apart and shoving them to the sides. The female barely took notice, continuing to sway to the music, with her back to him. Her scent grew stronger the closer he got, making his fangs ache and his arousal grow. The sensation shocked him. In all of his years as a vampyr, he’d never once desired to take someone’s blood from the vein.

The two vamps ran at him, pulling him back to the problem at hand. Neeman brought the first to his knees with a quick uppercut to the jaw. The second he grabbed by the throat and bared his fangs.

Do you know who I am? I could kill you right here for looking my direction if I wanted.

The vamp’s eyes went wide. He blinked several times and seemed to come to his senses. Sorry.

Neeman squeezed the vamp’s throat tighter, pulling him close. I didn’t catch that.

I’m sorry. The vamp’s already bluish—colored face grew ashen.

Neeman dropped him as a bouncer pushed through the crowd.

Is there a problem? He looked at the vamp on the ground.

Not anymore. Neeman’s gaze swept to the female who still danced within a throng of male vamps, her slender hands raised high above her head. He blinked twice as the lights turned from blue to pink on the dance floor and the hairs on his neck stood up. Her skin no longer held the bluish tint of a vamp. In the pink lights, she looked positively rosy. He stalked forward, shoving the vamps aside. Grabbing the female by the wrist, he turned her to face him.

Hands off. She shoved Neeman in the chest, and his gaze met a pair of brilliant, purple eyes. She stopped moving and sucked in a breath at the sight of him.

She’s human.

The two stared at each other for several seconds. Her heart—shaped face sported high cheekbones flushed a light shade of peach. Her exotic beauty and lovely eyes held a strength he’d rarely seen, mesmerizing him.

What are you doing in here? He shook his head. Where’s your master?

A slight smile played upon her lush lips. I have no master, Loverboy, but would be happy to allow you to take me home if you wish.

Her raspy, husky voice stirred desire within him. She was the walking, talking fantasy every man dreamed of. She slid her hand up his chest and encircled her arms around his neck.

It’s been a long, long time since I’ve had a man. Especially a vampyr. Why don’t you take me to your place, and we can dance there? In private.

Neeman’s senses lit up like firecrackers. Her fragrance swirled around him, teasing his resolve. Her eyes held him captive and refused to let him go. She pressed her body against his, and the softness of her flesh rubbed against him. For a moment, Neeman forgot everything. Where he was. Who he was. What he was supposed to be doing. She brought her face close to his and inhaled.

I love the smell of your cologne. 

I don’t wear cologne, he managed.

Her eyebrows knit together again, and she stood on her tiptoes to reach his neck. Neeman held still as she sniffed him again. 

Mmm… I think it might be you, Loverboy.

Her eyes flashed, and a shiver trickled down his neck. Something wasn’t right. Without pretense, he grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder.

Hey! she said. I like it rough, but this is a bit barbaric. Put me down.

The males suddenly turned on him at the removal of their object of obsession. Neeman backed away, and the group followed. He glanced behind, but he still couldn’t spot Riley.

Stay where you are, and I won’t take any of you into custody, he shouted.

The vamps and vampyr slowed but didn’t stop. Neeman unholstered his weapon.

The female squirmed in his arms and beat upon his back.

Put me down, you arrogant prick. Trust me; you won’t like me when I’m angered.

Shut up, and I might let you live. Neeman jostled her on his shoulder. He scanned the advancing males. Stop, or die. Your choice. Is getting offed over a stupid human worth it?

A stupid human? the female shrieked. You son of a⁠—

A sudden jolt of electricity coursed up Neeman’s spine, making his muscles tense and his back arch. His knees buckled, and he almost went down. Using his gun hand, he slapped the female on the rear. Stop zapping me with that Taser, before we both get hurt!

Oh, I’ll show you who’s gonna get hurt around here! She beat on his back.

He leveled his gun at the group of vamps in a last attempt to stop them. He didn’t want to shoot. Doing so in the middle of the club would cause problems for Danika, but he refused to let himself get hurt or the girl— no matter how little she valued her safety.

Suddenly another person appeared beside him, and he glanced over at Riley with his untucked shirt and mussed hair.

Nice of you to show up.

Sorry, boss. That girl Lana was really… Yeah, well, sorry.

The crowd halted as Riley drew his weapon. Three bouncers joined them, and finally, the vamps backed away.

Neeman swallowed hard, and without a word, holstered his gun, and strode from the bar. Adrenaline shot through him like a bullet. It would take only minutes before the shakes started. He stomped outside and took a deep breath, letting the pounding rain slap his face. The perfume of damp earth and metal filled his nostrils, clearing the female’s scent from his head.

The valet moved swiftly to open the door of his SUV. Neeman threw the girl inside while keeping a firm grip on her arm. Riley slid in the driver’s seat and started the engine.

Where to, boss?

Neeman eyed the female in