Soul
A novel inspired by the short story collection, One Night with the Fae. Soul is the first in a brand new series by Claire Farrell.
Cara Kelly’s life is going nowhere when she’s lured to a faery festival. There she sees darkness and magic, madness and lust, and she comes out the other side with new eyes and an addiction to the fae.
When the faery who saved her life returns to her, Cara knows there’s something wrong. Two souls exist in one body, and both need her, but to help one, she’ll end the life of the other. At first, her mind is made up, but both souls know how to charm her.
As the days pass, it becomes clear that the faeries need a leader, and Cara finds herself sucked into a world where morals don’t exist. The truth of her past is hidden in the magic, but all Cara needs to do is survive the king’s coronation, then the fae will let her go forever.
But that’s not what she wants anymore, and it’s getting harder and harder to tell the difference between a king and a half-blooded solitary fae. Cara’s losing her way, and her heart, to the fae, but there’s still her life, and her humanity, left to lose.
Smashwords Edition
October 2013
Copyright © Claire Farrell
[email protected] Cover art © Renu Sharma | www.darkrayne.com
Licence Notes
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Chapter One
My best friend slapped a stranger’s arse so hard that she shook her hand with the pain. I was surprised she could feel anything after all the alcohol she’d consumed. But she deserved to drink herself into oblivion after an argument with her boyfriend of three years had ended in him saying he needed “a break.”
The guy laughed and kept walking, but his girlfriend whirled around and asked, “Are you for real?”
Beautiful, belligerent Zoe grabbed my arm for support while waving her fingers in front of the woman’s nose. “Pinch me and find out.”
The young woman scowled and pushed her boyfriend ahead of her on the path. “Waster.”
Zoe’s grip tightened. “What was that?”
The woman stopped, shook her head, and turned back to face Zoe with an ugly expression. “I called you a waster. Got a problem with that?”
“Jesus.” I stepped between them and glared at the woman who looked as if she wanted to slap my best friend silly. I did, too, but I wasn’t about to let anyone else go there. “She’s drunk. Don’t be stupid.”
“She just—”
“I know. Now jog on.”
She stared at me for a couple of seconds. She obviously saw the same thing most other people did in my eyes because she linked arms with her grinning boyfriend and walked away.
I turned to Zoe with a sigh. “Go home, Zoe. You’re drunk.”
Her mouth widened into a dopey smile. “I like peachy bums. What can I say?”
“No, you like bugging Darren.”
As if on cue, her on-again, off-again boyfriend roared something incomprehensible at us. He and a group of our friends had somehow managed to get roughly half a mile ahead of us while I tried to shepherd Zoe to a taxi rank. In her state, it was no easy task.
She stuck out her lower lip and glanced around. “Should I have slapped her for calling me a waster?”
“You are a waster.” Hiding my grin, I urged her toward our friends. “Taxis are this way. Move, please.”
“How do you do that, though? Get people to just… back off? The look. Teach me it.”
“I’m just charming. It’s a natural-born gift that can’t be taught. Now keep walking.”
She tottered for a few steps until a passing car beeped at her. She whooped and made a move to lift up her top and flash them.
I grabbed her hands just in time then readjusted her clothes. I knew I should have hidden those extra shots she’d ordered right at last call. “You’re a disaster. I hope you know that.”
Her pale blue eyes filled with tears. “A break, Cara. What the fuck is a break?”
“It’s drunk talk for I want a night out with the lads.”
She grinned. “I fucking love you.”
“If you loved me, you’d hurry up before I freeze to death.”
She made a face at my goose-bumped legs. “What are you waiting for? I’m starving!”
She ran surprisingly fast. I followed as quickly as possible, waiting for her to fall. She didn’t, and the others slowed enough for us to finally catch up with them on Conyngham road, away from the brittle winds blowing over the River Liffey.
I reached the group just in time for Zoe to burst into tears because Darren refused to acknowledge her. Ignoring the inevitable argument, I folded my arms in a vain attempt to keep warm. On a December night in Dublin, I should have been wearing something ugly and heavy.
“It’s the longest night of the year,” Eoin said, slowing to walk next to me, his arm bumping against mine.
I sucked in a breath. “Yeah. Coldest, too, or is that just me?”
He gave my bare legs a pointed look. “I can warm you up.”
“I’m okay. Thanks.”
He slipped an arm around my waist, the tips of his fingers finding their way under the waistband of my skirt. Shrugging him off, I stepped neatly out of his reach.
“Now what’s your problem?” he asked through clenched teeth.
I had put in a full shift at the supermarket, and then Zoe had been weepy and juvenile all evening; I was exhausted and tired of being diplomatic. “Still not interested. Learn to take no for an answer, and maybe we wouldn’t have to suffer through these awkward moments, Eoin.” I shook my head. “Go bother somebody else.”
“You weren’t saying that when we—”
“Trust me, that mistake was more than enough.” I gave him the look.
He stormed ahead, muttering something about “cold bitches.” Looking past him, I noticed some lights. They hovered over the Phoenix Park before darting about as if they lived and had purpose. I stopped and stared, a weird feeling gnawing at the pit of my stomach. Beam after beam burst through the leaves, flooding the night sky with colour.
“Come on, Cara,” Fiona said, tapping my arm as she and Erika passed.
“Think it’s a rave or something?” I asked, moving toward Zoe but still watching the sky.
Zoe stopped arguing with Darren long enough to stare at me. “What?”
“The lights.”
“What lights?” She launched straight back into her argument as if there had been no interruption.
Her obliviousness didn’t bother me. She was stuck in her own little world, a bubble that consisted mostly of her relationship with Darren.
I kept my gaze on the lights, only half-listening to Darren’s attempt to persuade Zoe to shut up long enough to grab a steaming bag of greasy, vinegar-soaked chips. I willed her to agree. Then maybe I could run across the road and take a quick look inside the park while they waited for food.
But Phoenix Park wasn’t safe at night. I took one last, longing look at the lights and followed the others.
But my skin thrummed with need, my heart raced with exhilaration. It was the first time all night my interest had been truly piqued. All I had seen was a few lights in the sky, but I had a peculiar feeling in my gut, something warning that I would always want to know, that I would miss out on something spectacular if I just walked away.
“Okay, fine,” Zoe said as we reached the chipper, the food smells growing stronger. “I’m hungry anyway.” She pushed open the door. “Come on, Cara.”
I nodded and made to follow, but I couldn’t seem to make my feet step inside the building. I lingered on the footpath. The streets were mo
stly empty, apart from the groups of drunks wandering around looking for food and transport.
My friends were used to me wandering off. Zoe would look for me… or not. Maybe they would wait. If not, I wasn’t worried. There were plenty of taxis. I could check out the lights for a couple of minutes. The food would probably be ready by the time I returned. The traffic lights turned red, and my heart leaped in my chest as I made my decision.
I ran across the road, weaving through cars, and then crossed another street to get to the entrance of the park. The paths leading in were lit by streetlights, and those other lights still decorated the sky.
Trembling, I took a deep breath and stepped through the gate. I heard music and felt it beating beneath my feet. Maybe a concert of some kind. I would go as far as the monument and then turn back, I promised myself, but when I reached the tall obelisk, I kept walking. I needed to see, to hear, to know. Somehow, the lights had become more important than anything else in the world. A small part of me knew that was wrong, that everything was wrong, but my feet still moved.
The lights danced in the distance, and the music called to me, daring me to come and get it. It vibrated in my veins as if it belonged to me, owned me.
I realised I had already passed Dublin Zoo but hadn’t heard any of the animals. Then again, I hadn’t heard anything other than that music since I entered the park. The air remained strangely empty of normal city sounds.
The lights sparkled, drawing me further along. I shouldn’t have walked into the park alone, but I had never had any sense. I couldn’t make myself see the danger that was so obvious to everyone else. I was the one who walked down dark alleys alone and took everyone to house parties in the worst parts of town. I was the girl who had stared down a wild-eyed scumbag pointing a knife at me with shaky druggie hands instead of just handing over my purse. Zoe often called me crazy, but she enjoyed my unpredictability… mostly.
I looked over my shoulder, and my breath hitched in my throat. Behind me, a growing sheet of hungry darkness had swallowed up everything in its path as the streetlights blacked out one by one. The ominous gloom screamed danger, and for once, I listened.
I hurried forward to stay in the light, but the shadows crept behind me, gaining ground with each of my steps. A small spark of terror triggered deep within me, but left before I could register it properly. A wall separated my mind from my body, and I couldn’t seem to reconnect the two.
The park was well known as a breeding ground for dealers, druggies, prostitutes, and gardaí, but I hadn’t seen a soul. It was as if the rest of the world had disappeared and left me behind. Impossible, yet the fact that I couldn’t stop my own feet from moving was pretty unbelievable, too.
Lit only by the moon, the trees bordering the park leaned malignantly toward the path as if to snatch me up in their barren branches.
Unwanted images popped into my head—things that hadn’t scared me since childhood, memories I had long discarded as fantasy. I thought of dreams my mother promised me hadn’t been real, fears and monsters that might come true on a night when nothing else made sense.
I was afraid to look at the shadows in case I saw movement, afraid to stop running because the darkness would catch up with me. My pace quickened, but my mind remained separate from my body, a spectator waiting to see what kind of trouble I would find, fed up with my not heeding its warnings.
My feet moved from the path, and I kept walking until I came to a section of the park used by joggers, dog walkers, and the occasional junkie. I moved between thick trunks of ancient, unfamiliar oak trees. Their branches shielded me from the wind but whispered in ways they shouldn’t.
I wanted to go home, but I was lost. The lights finally stopped moving, and so did my feet. The lights glistened, contracted, and spun around me before shooting away to hover above a clearing amongst the trees. Dead leaves and broken twigs decorated barren earth devoid of grass.
The lights dipped and disappeared. Horrified by the idea of never knowing what they were, I ran after them.
I stopped abruptly when I came to a gaping hole in the ground. Sweat trickled down my back as shapes formed before my eyes. Steps led down into the darkness, but the lights were in there somewhere. They tugged at me, urging me to follow.
The music grew louder, echoing from underground.
I looked behind me. The trees were so closely knit that I couldn’t see where I might have walked through. There was nowhere to go. No way out. I took a deep breath and made the only choice I could see.
I stepped down.
Chapter Two
I jumped the last two steps, ran into the light, and skidded to a stop, staring around in confusion. I seemed to be in the middle of a costume party, but that sense of otherness hit me once again.
I stood in a large room enclosed by stone walls. Underfoot, the floor was earthen, and strange scents assaulted my nostrils.
The people… I couldn’t even call them human. A figure walked right by me, and I automatically took a step back at the sight of its scaled skin. It hissed and stuck out a forked tongue before moving on.
I inched back and collided with stone. The steps had vanished. Pinpricks of panic touched my brain, but I was too shocked to truly feel it, maybe because I couldn’t see anything that should be real. Claws, horns, wings: nothing could be explained.
Unless…
Stories my grandfather used to tell me came back in a flash—the old stories I loved, about faery lore and myths, parties and dancing that lasted for hours, humans tempted and taunted and sent back without their wits, if at all.
My heart raced, ready to explode out of my chest. The music changed, and the figures on the dance floor in the middle of the room shifted with it, their movements growing frenzied. A fight broke out, and blood was spilled. I sank to the floor to make myself as small as possible.
Two impossibly tiny winged creatures flitted by, giggling as they pointed and stared. One yanked my fringe before flying away.
My childhood dreams had been about faeries. Many times, I had imagined being taken by the faeries and leaving my family behind forever, but I knew they weren’t real.
The soles of my feet stung, so I slipped off my shoes and wriggled my toes in the cool, damp earth. For some reason, the action grounded me enough to get back some control.
I didn’t belong there. I had to find a way out before one of the creatures decided I wasn’t welcome. Faery or not, they had weapons, and they had shed blood. I was out of my element. Granddad had always warned me never to step on toadstools or mushrooms in case one was really a hidden faery, to never fall asleep in a circle of stones, and to never, under any circumstances, offend one of the fae. He had recited the rules in a solemn voice but with a twinkle in his eye. He hadn’t believed, not truly.
Maybe I had lost my mind. Maybe I was trapped in my own nightmare.
I rose and stepped along the wall, keeping to the edges of the crowd in an attempt to go unnoticed. Some of the creatures cast me sidelong glances, but none spoke or tried to harm me, so my confidence grew. Nightmare or reality, maybe it didn’t really matter.
I gazed around the room, but I couldn’t see a way out. Candles—the only sources of light—hung high on the walls, supported by ornate glass candelabras, like ice containing fire. The flames flickered, sending impossibly tangible shadows darting around the room.
The creatures on the dance floor looked determined and focused; not even the bloodshed distracted them. Some moved elegantly while others awkwardly clomped around, but not one of them paused, even for a second.
I came to some tables covered with food and drink. Black apples bled rivulets of juice. Sparkling gold grapes dangled from platters. They looked appealing, but right next to them were soggy pulsing berries that bubbled like acid.
None of the nearby figures were eating, but they all held carved silver goblets. I picked up a cup and examined the engravings. I almost dropped the goblet when the tail of a mermaid flicked over the rim. She waved at m
e before disappearing under a liquid that looked a lot like thin honey. I sniffed. The smell was familiar, so I took a hesitant sip. The first drop tasted like heaven. As the taste faded, I licked my lips, eager for more. I tipped the cup and drank the lot. A delicious warmth settled in the pit of my stomach.
I stared regretfully into the empty cup, and it refilled before my eyes. I eagerly lifted it to my lips, desperate for more, but a strong hand clasped my wrist.
“That’s not for you.”
I stared at the one who had spoken—a pretty male with shoulder-length silver-white hair. He held my arm so tight it hurt, and I couldn’t think straight. His skin was a shade away from transparent, and sparkling silver veins ran under the surface. His features were almost human, but his almond-shaped eyes were violet. He hovered above the ground, his wings moving rapidly. The appendages were as captivating as his skin, shimmering with the same vein-like lines.
He gazed at me as if trying to find something. I stared back, frozen to the spot. I had never seen anyone like him, and yet, he was the most familiar being in the room. The same thing that had pulled me after the lights tugged me closer to him, and my skin burned under his touch.
He frowned and released my arm. “You don’t belong here. Don’t eat or drink anything else.”
He sounded angry. I wanted to trust him, wanted to talk to someone, so I bent to put the cup on the table for fear of offending him further.
“Sorry,” I said, turning back to speak to him.
He was gone. I searched the room, but the silver faery was nowhere to be found. I took a step and swayed on my feet. The drink rushed to my head, numbing my senses, making me feel as though I had been wrapped in cotton wool. The room spun, and I staggered in an attempt to stay upright.
“Wow,” I stage-whispered. “What was that stuff, moonshine?” The words sounded funny, and my tongue felt too large for my mouth.