The Revelation of Light and Dark (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 1)

My eyes flare wide as I realize the woman was in no danger at all because she was the Dark Fae. Immediately, I open my senses and will myself to see past her glamour.

And gross… she’s hideous with gray scaly skin pitted with open sores, a mouth without lips, and rotten teeth. There’s no aura indicating that she is indeed fae and not daemon.

“What do you say?” the woman asks Carrick, whose true voice—now that I can see past her glamour—is more of a croaking, piteous sound. “A round with me, and you’ll never be satisfied with your little redhead there.”

In what bat-shit crazy world does this fae live in where she thinks Carrick would be interested in her? And why would she even think Carrick and I were together?

Regardless, Carrick merely gives her a mocking smile, leans in just a little closer, and says, “Your powers don’t work on me, so I’m going to take a pass.”

Powers? What powers?

Carrick slowly pulls away from the fae, and I think he might let her go. But instead, with a quick move, and his hand still at her throat, he spins her until her back is to his front. And in a move only seen in action movies, he grips her head with both hands. With a sharp pull in opposite directions, he breaks her neck.

Without a care in the world, he drops her to the ground where she lands with a dull thud. I stare down in horror at the unnatural angle of her neck and her open eyes that will never see anything. Bile rises in my throat just a little as I replay that sickening crunch when her neck snapped.

Or is that… crunching I actually hear again.

With horror, I watch as the creature’s eyes blink, then she starts to twist her head on the stem of her neck to put it back at the correct angle.

I scramble backward a few feet, my eyes flying to Carrick. He seems nonplussed, merely squatting down beside the creature as she strains to turn her head back around. The crackling of her spine grosses me out, but I can’t turn away. Fascinated, I watch as Carrick lifts the edge of his jeans, and from a strap around a leather holster at the top of his boot, he pulls out a dagger. It’s plain, about eight inches long, with a T-handle. He grabs the fae by the hair, and she starts to screech.

With one smooth move, he brings the dagger to the soft skin below her chin and drives it upward into her brain. The thing slumps, eyes closing, and I can tell that she’s truly dead.

Sliding the dagger out, he wipes it carefully on her skirt before placing it in the ankle holster. Carrick stands, takes a step back, and stares at her body.

Within moments, it starts to darken until it’s pitch black. I scramble backward when wisps of what looks like curling smoke begin to rise from the mass of her remains. More and more, the blackness swirls, breaks up, and starts drifting away in a dark gray plume of ash and smoke, but without any noticeable fire having burned it.

“Where’d she go?” I ask in astonishment as I watch the last pieces of ash fly away.

“Back from whence she came I expect,” Carrick replies blandly. “Probably back to the Underworld where her soul will be tortured for eternity.”

“That’s awful.” And why do I even feel pity for her? She was a dangerous creature.

“For what she was going to do, it’s no more than she deserves,” Carrick says, striding away from me back toward the city street.

I run to catch up and when I’m matching his stride, I ask, “What was she? I mean, I know she was a Dark Fae now, but what was she doing with that man? Was she going to let him rape her?”

“Most likely, although she would not have been refusing his attention so not sure I’d call it rape,” Carrick replies, turning right onto the sidewalk as we emerge from the alley. “She’s a succubus.”

“A what?”

“A sub-species of Dark Fae. She gets her powers through sex and she has a strong compulsion power to induce humans to have sex with her.”

That stops me in my tracks, and Carrick immediately halts, too, turning to face me. I take advantage of the fact he looks patient, assuming he wants to make this a learning experience. “So she makes men have sex with her—”

“Or women,” he clarifies.

“And that gives her powers?”

“It keeps her alive, strong, and able to exist. She has to have it to live.”

A distressing thought comes to mind. “I’m guessing that man would not have had as good a time?”

Carrick shakes his head. “She would have sucked every bit of life out of him during the act. It would have looked like a heart attack to any coroner, and I can assure you he would not have died with a smile on his face.”