Usurper

  Usurper (Chaos #4)

  By Claire Farrell

  Editing by Red Adept Publishing Services

  It’s been a year since Cara returned to the human realm with her daughter, and the fae have come knocking again. The game of kings is still being played, power is the ultimate prize, and Scarlet is an asset every court wishes to acquire.

  As Sadler’s next move is revealed to be his deadliest yet, and Scarlet’s burgeoning powers begin to develop into something that can’t be hidden, Cara realises that something more significant than a faery promise is needed to protect her family. It’s time for her to build on what she started in Sadler’s court.

  But although the game is seductive, the price of winning might be too costly for a human to pay.

  Copyright © Claire Farrell

  [email protected]

  Cover by Yocla Designs

  Licence Notes:

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold.

  Chapter One

  I took an upstairs seat on the bus home from work and stared out the window at a grey, lifeless world. After everything I had gone through in the faery realm, the human one still seemed dull and jaded.

  Two stops later, I regretted my choice of seats when a group of belligerent junkies boarded and decided to sprawl out to the right of me. A young woman slurred loudly while her male companion drifted off, still clinging to the syringe he had just used to inject himself. People used to hide such things, but lately, they flaunted their shame.

  I used to pity junkies and wonder why nobody in their lives could help them. After my ordeal, I hated them because they were a distinct reminder of the faery who had been addicted to my suffering. Maybe that had coloured my view of the entire world.

  I counted down the stops as the group grew louder. An elderly man harrumphed before descending the stairs. A half-empty cider can was flung after him, barely missing his head. The sound of the can rolling down the stairs infuriated me. I turned my head and glared at the group. The passed-out man had slid lower in the seat, his arm hanging off the side, his fingertips grazing the filthy floor. Four others were passing around a half-smoked joint.

  The oldest-looking woman, probably haggard from her lifestyle rather than age, stared back at me defiantly. “The fuck are you looking at?”

  I kept my gaze on her for at least ten seconds, imagining how I might have treated her in the faery realm, picturing the violence that would have been acceptable. I never returned from the faery realm unchanged, and my time in the Chaos Court couldn’t be undone. I had been a queen for a little while, but in the human world, I was nothing. If it hadn’t been for Scarlet, chances were I would have gone out in a blaze of glory.

  Something hit me then—a feeling. No, a memory. A man sitting behind the mouthy woman caught my attention. His overly large pupils rolled upward as he gripped her arm with one hand, while his other arm was draped across the shoulders of the passed-out junkie. For an instant, I saw Sadler. Despite having three kings to maintain control, the fae were still doing whatever they liked in the human realm. So little had changed, and none of it appeared to be for the better.

  With a shudder, I jumped to my feet and ran down the stairs to escape the memories. Maybe I was trying to outrun the rapidly growing darker side of my nature. I got off the bus at the next stop and walked the rest of the way home, focusing on the brighter sides to my life in an attempt to shake off the rage that was slowly consuming me. But the thundering noise of it was deafening and impossible to ignore.

  I was so angry. With the faeries. With myself. I was trying to remember humanity and how to fit into a world where magic wasn’t supposed to exist. It had been a year since I returned to the human world with my daughter, and coming home had only made me realise how much I had changed and how little I belonged. I had known two realms, and I fit into neither.

  I had forbidden Bekind and Anya from using magic in the human realm to avoid drawing attention to us. Still, when I was offered a job after the first interview I attended—despite my sketchy record—I blamed both of them for influencing my new boss. On day one, when he slapped my backside, I understood, but I needed the job. Working in an office every day was actually killing me, but I had to be responsible. Despite the craziness of my story, my grandparents had given us all a place to stay, but I needed to support us, too.

  My grandfather had always hoped to see proof of the fae, and my grandmother was quietly accepting of the situation as she understood it, but I was pretty sure neither of them had a clue of what I had gone through. We were the kind of family who kept secrets and didn’t speak about the things that made us uncomfortable or unhappy. We plastered on fake smiles and pretended all was well. That had frustrated me so much when I was a kid, but as an adult, I did the same thing. I protected them from the horror so they could keep wearing their smiles, but I sometimes saw a haunted look in my grandfather’s eyes. What we kept hidden would eventually burst to the surface. I just hoped we were ready to deal with it when the time came.

  Zoe had been my shoulder to cry on for the last year. Bekind and Anya formed a protective shield around my daughter at all times. I was surrounded by people who gave me their unconditional loyalty, yet there was a hollow inside my heart that could only be filled in the faery realm. Time and distance hadn’t quelled my longing. It had only made me bitter and vengeful. The fact that I had come to understand Ronnie, a human who had lost her mind over the fae’s treatment of her, was terrifying.

  Finally reaching my neighbourhood, I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt eyes on me, but I was used to that feeling. The fae were always close. Whoever watched us refused to show themselves, and I was pretty sure we owed that to Brendan. He still had a debt to fill, and he was unlikely to allow his temporary heir to be murdered before he got a new one.

  I put a smile on my face and opened the front door.

  Anya, Scarlet in her arms, appeared in the hallway. “Cara?”

  My daughter’s eyes brightened when she saw me. I took her from Anya and held her close. Every inch of me relaxed once she was in my arms. I was different when she was with me, better. She giggled then babbled a bit, one word sounding like “Mama.” I kissed her chubby cheeks and brushed her dark hair off her face. Her eyes had grown as violet as her father’s, but her left pupil had spread into a black teardrop. I felt uneasy every time I saw it. Scarlet was my link to everything, fae and humanity, purity and the terrible things I had gone through to have her. She had forced my sanity to remain by tethering me to everything at once.

  “Any change?” I asked Anya.

  Anya folded her bronze arms and pursed her lips. “No, your baby has not turned into a psychopathic killer today. Thanks for asking.”

  I gave her a stern look. “I’m going to get changed. I’ll take her with me.”

  The pixie held out her arms. “I’ll look after her while you get ready for dinner.”

  I moved Scarlet out of her reach, trying to remember to smile. “I won’t be long. Help with dinner, okay?” I was gone before she could react, running up the stairs to spend some precious few minutes alone with my daughter. We were expecting guests, and I was sick of sharing.

  In the room I shared with Bekind, Anya, and Scarlet, I sat my daughter on the spotless rug and watched her grip my duvet to pull herself to her feet. She had grown achingly close to walking on her own.

  “Almost there, princess,” I said then laughed. “Princess” was a technical truth, considering I had been married to a king—I still was, if details were important. I picked out a more comfortable outfit. “How about this?” I asked, holding it up.

  Scarlet ignored me and grabbed at the air. I shivered in case there really was something I couldn’t see. I changed quickly, only hesit
ating to take a look at the black veins in the crook of my elbow. Those had appeared after I left the faery realm, so I worried that the taint had spread into the human realm. If it did, I hoped that the stick I had used to kill Scarlet’s grandfather would help somebody find a way to stop the taint’s growth.

  Scarlet made a sound to catch my attention. I lifted her onto the bed to play. She was growing so fast, and she was such an affectionate, smiley child that nothing in the world seemed wrong in her presence. I just wished I could have given her more, everything she deserved.

  A black cat raced into the room, leapt on the bed, and transformed into a woman. Scarlet was too used to that to pay any attention.

  Rolling my eyes, I threw my discarded jumper at Bekind. “How many times do I have to tell you not to do that? You’re going to give my grandfather a heart attack.”

  “He’s not in the room, Cara.” She reached out and stroked Scarlet’s face. “How was your day?”

  I saw the affection in her eyes and wondered why she still couldn’t bring herself to hold my daughter unless it was absolutely necessary. “Same. ‘Cept I saw a faery on the bus home. He was with a group of junkies. He had the whole addicted to human emotion thing down.”

  She shrugged. “Probably one of the forgotten. They waste their lives in the human realm and forget to go back home. Most of them forget who they are. They’re barely fae.”

  “Sadler did that, remember?”

  “Perhaps somebody reminded him just in time.”

  “Like his god?”

  “Let’s hope his god was a figment of his imagination.”

  “So what did you do all day?” I asked, leaning back against the pillow and drawing Scarlet closer. She struggled to get out of my arms, more interested in playing with the buckle on my jeans than with me.

  “Spied,” Bekind said.

  “Hear anything interesting?”

  “No change. At least, an all-out war hasn’t begun in the faery realm. There is, however, a male nymph haunting the bingo hall your grandmother is so fond of.”

  “A male… nymph?” I screwed up my nose. I didn’t think I had come across one of those before. “Is that bad?”

  “Depends on who you ask.” The corners of her mouth curved up. “He provides a service to lonely old woman and gains much from their… enjoyment.”

  “What? Ew, Bekind.” I reached out and clasped her arm. “But not my grandmother, right?”

  She cackled. I let go of her, and she fell off the bed, still laughing. Scarlet crawled to the edge of the mattress and slid over until her feet were on the floor. She took one faltering step before gripping the bed again.

  “Did you see that?” I asked. “She practically walked!”

  Bekind sat up, her laughter dying. “How will you act when she turns her first person into a toad?”

  “Not funny.” I stood, picked up my daughter, and headed downstairs, ignoring Bekind’s fresh giggles.

  Anya was scowling when I entered the kitchen, but her face lit up at the sight of Scarlet. A pang of jealousy tugged at me as my daughter reached for the pixie.

  “Hey, Gran,” I said. “I think you should switch bingo halls. Like now.”

  My grandmother gazed at me in surprise. She looked almost exactly as she had when I was a kid, except for some snow-white hairs speckling the dark grey. “Is there a reason?”

  “Yes.” I took a seat at the counter. “An excellent reason that you really don’t need to hear.”

  She smiled at Scarlet, touching the child’s chin. “You worry too much, Cara.”

  Or maybe everyone else didn’t worry enough.

  “I didn’t hear you come in,” Granddad said as he entered the room. “How was work?”

  “Oh, same as usual.” When I had turned up on his doorstep with a baby and some faeries, a lot of serious conversations had ensued, stories I attempted to sugar-coat. Despite his outward acceptance of the situation, I was pretty sure his hair was whiter than it had been when he’d answered the door that day.

  Bekind joined us, fortunately wearing clothes, and the conversation turned. My faery friends and my human grandparents weren’t exactly comfortable together, but they put up with each other for me, for Scarlet. I was pretty lucky, all things considered. I was alive, I had my daughter, and I was surrounded by family and friends. I should have been happy.

  And if the longing to return to the faery realm ever went away, I was sure I would be.

  Dinner was almost ready when the doorbell rang. My grandparents and I froze then looked at each other.

  “Okay,” I said. “This is it.”

  Gran reached out to brush my hair away from my face. “You’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, of course.” I had been both dreading and looking forward to the visit for a while. I headed to the front door, took a deep breath, and opened it.

  Zoe stood outside with my mother, both of them looking uncomfortable. My mother looked thinner, and the lines around her eyes had deepened. I stared at the woman who had sent me away and wondered if she regretted it. “Hi,” I said at last. “Nice to see you.”

  “Thanks for inviting me.” My mother looked at Zoe. “And thanks for bringing me.”

  “No problem.” Zoe gave me a meaningful look.

  “Oh,” I said. “Come in. Dinner’s just ready. Everyone’s in the kitchen, so… go right in.”

  I stepped aside to make room. As she passed, Zoe squeezed my hand and pulled me after her. I was so glad she had come. I wouldn’t have been able to open the door if I hadn’t known she would be standing there.

  My mother looked all around as she made her way into the kitchen. My grandparents stood shoulder to shoulder as if about to block her way. I let them have their moment, quickly stepping around them to move closer to Scarlet.

  Mam stared at her parents for a long time before trying on a weak smile for size. “Mam. Dad. It’s… it’s good to see you.”

  My grandmother immediately pulled my mother in for a hug. “I’ve missed you, Elaine. So, so much.”

  “You knew where I lived, Mam.”

  “You hardly forgot where we lived, Elaine,” my grandfather said sharply, but his eyes were glistening.

  Mam stepped away from Gran, her shoulders back. I saw the warning signs and decided it was time to intervene. I picked up Scarlet from her high chair. She gave a gurgle of delight that caught my mother’s attention.

  “This is my daughter,” I said. “This is Scarlet.”

  Mam stepped toward us then hesitated, her hand moving to her mouth. “Can I…? She’s beautiful.”

  My mother approached, but I took an automatic step back. I held my daughter tightly. I understood my mother’s reasons for a lot of things, but I couldn’t wholly trust her, not with Scarlet’s heart. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt my daughter the way I had been hurt. I wouldn’t let anyone make her feel as though she weren’t good enough. I would do anything to stop history from repeating itself.

  Mam’s face fell. “She looks a lot like you.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said in a meaner tone than I had intended.

  “Her eyes are so unusual,” she whispered.

  “It’s a defect.” I narrowed my own eyes at my mother. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “We should eat,” my grandfather said in a tight voice. “Take a seat, everyone. Zoe, it’s nice to see you again.”

  Zoe snorted. “Can’t keep away from the madness.”

  I strapped Scarlet into her high chair next to my seat while the others settled around the table. My grandmother started serving the food. Bekind helped, and my mother watched her as if trying to figure out who she was.

  “I forgot to introduce you,” I said. “These are my… friends. This is Anya, and that’s Bekind.” I pointed to each of them.

  Anya had glamoured herself to look more human. Strangely, Scarlet acted as though there was no difference.

  “Bekind,” my mother said quietly, “have we met?”


  Bekind looked at my mother, her chin trembling. “We haven’t been introduced.” Bekind had watched over my mother, too, and had been there when Mam was attacked by my biological father. I wished all of our truths were laid out on the table. I was sick to death of secrets.

  “Let’s eat,” Gran said, beaming. In her mind, her family was back together. It wasn’t that simple for me. I wished it could be.

  Mam gazed longingly at Scarlet. “How old is she?”

  I cleared my throat. “She turned one last week.”

  “And is she sleeping well for you?” She nodded at the carrot Scarlet was gnawing on. “She looks like she has a good appetite.”

  “Yeah, she’s great.” I looked to my grandmother for help. Small talk wasn’t my strong suit.

  “Oh, she’s amazing,” Gran said. “Such a good baby. You wouldn’t know there was a little one in the house except for all of the giggling.”

  “You must be enjoying her,” Mam said, nodding at Gran. “You and Dad always loved kids.”

  “They’ve been a great help.” I smiled at Anya. “Bekind and Anya, too.”

  An uncomfortable silence draped over us.

  “Cara,” Gran said after a few minutes, “pass your mother the mashed potatoes.”

  I handed the bowl across the table, but my mother grasped my wrist instead.

  “Is that a wedding ring?” she asked.

  I pulled my hand away and put it in my lap under the table. I hadn’t taken off Sadler’s rings, and I couldn’t explain why. It was some sick stubbornness in me that kept the reminders around. “Yes.”

  “You got married? I mean, when? To whom? Where is he now? What about Scarlet?”

  I looked up at my mother and frowned. “Nobody you know. We’re here to keep him away from Scarlet.”

  “Oh, I…” She glanced at my grandfather then looked back down at her plate.

  Zoe made some attempts at conversation, but it seemed as though the evening would turn into a massive failure. Having Scarlet made me want to reconcile with my own mother, but maybe it would never work.