Spirit of the Fae (Dragon's Gift The Dark Fae #4) - Linsey Hall Page 0,2
been running strong lately.
Ahead and to the right, there was a huge grouping of white, misty bushes. They were about as tall as I was. I darted toward them, racing through the mist. My heart thundered in my ears.
We sprinted behind the bushes, ducking low to conceal our position as we ran. The foliage provided some cover, but it wouldn’t last long.
One of the prickly branches scraped against my skin, and I winced.
Shit.
This world could hurt me, but I couldn’t hurt it. Nor could I touch Tarron.
Not freaking fair.
A blast of dark magic exploded against the bushes ahead of us, and we darted to the side, narrowly avoiding the blast. Another hit from behind, and I lunged forward.
Burn growled in the distance, and a reaper howled, but he wasn’t able to hold them off entirely. One had clearly cut away from the pack and was still coming.
“We’re not going to lose them this way,” Tarron said.
He was right. They were too fast. Too strong.
Up ahead, a white river cut through the ivory landscape. The water looked like milk—totally opaque.
Perfect for hiding.
“The river.” I pointed.
“Aye.”
The row of bushes was still between us and our attackers, providing a bit of cover as we raced toward the water.
Pain surged through my arm where I’d been hit earlier, but I ignored it. When I reached the river, I didn’t even hesitate.
I dived right in, going deep and holding my breath. The water rushed by my skin, cool and smooth, soothing the burn on my arm.
I let the current carry me downstream, trying my best to stay under water. Unconsciously, I reached out for Tarron. Not that it would matter if I reached him. We couldn’t hold on to each other.
But I couldn’t help the instinct.
Seconds passed. Maybe minutes. My lungs began to burn, a stark reminder of the fact that I was still partially alive.
And I could die.
Please don’t let me get caught in something down here.
Underground roots or a fallen tree could be trouble. Even though I opened my eyes, all I could see was blinding whiteness.
Finally, when my lungs were screaming more than I could bear, I surged to the surface, gasping.
Frantic, I searched for the dark shadows. They were gone. The riverbank rushed by, white and serene.
Tarron.
I bit my tongue, resisting the urge to call out for him. He couldn’t hear me while he was still under.
Please don’t be trapped underwater.
An image of his lifeless body floating in this horrible river flashed in my mind.
No.
I shoved the panic down deep and ignored it. He would be okay.
He had to be.
Feelings for him surged to the surface—feelings I didn’t want to confront right now.
When his head finally broke through the surface, I gasped. “Oh, thank fates.”
He spun in the water, searching for me. When his eyes landed on me, his furrowed brow relaxed. “That was dangerous as hell.”
I laughed, relieved. “Not as bad as the grim reapers.”
A devastating grin flashed across his face. “Fair enough.”
He cut toward the edge of the river with strong strokes, and I followed.
Exhausted, I climbed out onto the shore. Burn was nowhere to be seen. “We need to move fast, in case they followed the river.”
He nodded. “Which way?”
I called on my seeker sense, hoping we weren’t too far off the mark. Hoping that it would work. Now was not the time for it to quit on me.
It flickered to life, weaker than ever but pulling me away from the river. I raced toward the forest. Tarron stuck close by my side. My seeker sense tugged harder and harder.
Answers.
Fates, I wanted them.
What had happened to the false queen? Was Aeri okay?
Ahead of us, a building appeared out of the mist. I blinked.
Aethelred’s house.
And my seeker sense pulled me right toward it.
What the hell?
Aethelred wasn’t dead, right?
Oh no.
Terror spiked.
Had the false queen survived and launched an attack on my loved ones?
“No.” The word escaped on a strangled gasp.
He couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t.
2
I sprinted toward Aethelred’s house. There were no buildings on either side—Aethelred’s skinny Victorian house sat alone in the middle of the white field. It looked strange, though—the usual blue paint covered with black smudges of dark magic had turned a muted white. Almost gray.
Just like everything in this realm.
Fast as I could, I headed for the narrow stairs that led to the front door. I took them two at a time and pounded on the door. My hand didn’t pass right through as it had with Tarron. It slammed onto the wood.