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Penelope Fletcher: The Demon Girl

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Penelope Fletcher The Demon Girl

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Rae Wilder has problems. Plunged into a world of dark magic, fierce creatures and ritual sacrifice, she is charged with a guarding a magical amulet. Rae finds herself beaten up, repeatedly, and forced to make a choice: to live and die human, or embrace her birth-right and wield magics that could turn her into something wicked, a force of nature nothing can control.

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"Stop fighting me, I'm not going to hurt you."

She became still under my hands.

"Rae?" Her voice was a whimper and I remembered the light chime of it instantly. I dragged the hood off her head and released a fiery cascade of hair. Her scarlet eyes were wide and wet. "It's you," she sobbed and started to cry. "I'm saved, you saved me."

I hushed her; anxious the Clerics would hear us. "Calm, Maeve, it's okay now. I'm going to get these binds off you."

I looked over her chains. A familiar nausea rose in my throat at the odor and look of the iron. Her skin was backend, blistering where it touched her.

"They were moving me somewhere else because there were demons in the compound. One of us has killed one of them, and the humans are furious. They were going to take me away so you couldn't save me. I think there's another secret place they hide the demons they catch." She was babbling, and her eyes darted around wildly. "They asked me questions. Who I was, how many fairies I lived with and where I lived. I couldn't get away from them. They kept me dosed with iron, all the time. I'm weak."

To placate her I nodded sympathetically and made commiserating noises. I fumbled over the chains, but couldn't break them. I tried covering my hands with mud then using leaves as make shift covers, but they tore the moment I exerted any strength and the mud did nothing. There was a tap at my shoulder. Devlin held out a blood soaked hand to me. I recoiled then realized there was a small key between his slick fingertips. I snatched it from him in my haste to get Maeve free. As the chains fell away, she clambered on top of me and hugged me tightly.

Devlin started to bury the chains. Shame he didn't have the same inclination about the human bodies he'd dismembered. I glared at him with disgust.

"You found me," Maeve cried and buried her small head in the crook of my shoulder.

I patted her awkwardly. She didn't smell too great. Something golden and hard knocked my hand as I stroked her hair, and I lifted a few braids curiously. On the end of one dangled a small coin sized disc. It had a single rune etched onto its surface.

"It means protection," she said her eyes misted with guilt. "I took it because I was afraid to ask Breandan for it. I've known where that silly burl he hides his secrets in was, since I was old enough to crawl. I was so mad at him for treating me like a child, but I was more afraid of facing a vampire alone, so I stole it." Her gaze bored into mine, pleading for understanding. "Take it. It didn't work for me because it was always meant for you."

Then her eyes crashed closed, and she promptly fell into a deep sleep.

I sat there, her limbs entwined with mine, unsure of what to do. I didn't push her away. She needed me, and since Breandan was not there, I needed to provide her with some comfort. Holding her soothed away the guilt of seeing her hurt by the people I had once looked up to.

Devlin brushed clumps of soil from his hands and watched us, eyes clouded, distant. His white hair shimmered brightly, and his green eyes made the vibrant colors of the forest seem washed out. It was scary someone so beautiful could wreak such carnage. He didn't seem at all put out.

"You saved her," I said, struggling to understand him. "You saved your enemies sister."

Devlin came back to himself and smirked at me pityingly. "I saved a member of my Tribe. Don't you see, Rae? The rebels are still part of my Tribe and they will be until the day I no longer rule, which I promise you will be many years to come. They may not agree with me or encourage Lochlann's tantrum and defy me for a while, but so be it." He shrugged like it really didn't bother him, but I knew otherwise. "In the end I will win because leading the Tribe is my birth-right. As is mating with a female fairy of my choice."

I clutched Maeve tighter to my chest, a wary look coming into me eye. Devlin laughed, waved his hand.

"A female fairy of mating age. Maeve is pretty but too young. And I want my mate to be from one of the older bloodlines." His eyes rested on my wings and tail then skipped over my face.

"That's why you're so set on having me? Because you think it's your right to?" I shook my head. "I don't understand you, Devlin. I don't feel for you that way and I know for a fact you don't like me."

"I am a practical being and so are you." He laughed heartily. "Our ancestor's legacy flows strongly through your veins, and you could help bring us back together. Mating with you would be the right thing to do, but I won't." He smiled softly. "There is one who holds my heart firmly in her vicious clasp." He looked down at his hands and seemed surprised to see the blood there. The softness bled from his expression. "Breandan overstepped his place. Even if you and I did not mate it would be Lochlann who would court you next. He has turned his back on tradition thousands of years old."

"He saw me first," I said, finally understanding what that statement meant. If Breandan had managed to ignore me we never would have met the way we did, and maybe we never would have bonded. I saw now our connection was largely attributed to the improbable success of our meeting and was intrinsically linked to the awakening of the demon within me.

Concerned I would wake her, I gently lay Maeve down on the mossy floor. I unhooked the amulet from her braid and tucked it into my pocket. I felt a small thrill at knowing I know had all three. I had the key that would bring Devlin and his evil hoard down. All I had to do was escape him, and get the grimoire. How I was to do that was beyond me. Conall would be close by, but he would be focusing on freeing Lochlann. The little I knew of my brother told me he was a stickler for tradition and the right way of doing things. More importantly, Devlin had my boys and I wanted them back. I was not done with them yet, we had unfinished business.

I stood and looked Devlin in the eye, crossed my hands over my chest.

"Help me, Rae. Breandan will understand. He'll be upset but eventually he will accept. If you join with me, take your rightful place in my Tribe we can put an end to this feud."

I stared at him and almost stuttered when I said, "No."

His hands clamped down on my shoulders and he shook me roughly. "Don't be foolish, you have a chance to save many of our kind." He quirked an eyebrow and was amused. "I'll even let you keep the amulet of power you stole from me. You didn't think your casting broke through my shield all by itself did you?"

My lips pressed into a thin line. "I admit I should have known it was not my natural ability that kicked your ass, but what do you mean you'll let me keep it? I took and you can't give something that's not yours anymore." I looked at his hand on my shoulder, fought the urge to set it on fire to get him off me. "How did you get the amulet of power anyway? It makes sense Conall and I are guardians, the last Priestess was our mother."

"Sorcha, your mother gave it to me. Oh, don't look so shocked. Her husband was my uncle, and after his death I was the next male in line to rule."

I digested this, painfully slow. "My father was royal?"

Devlin tipped his head back and laughed so uproariously I began to feel hot.

"Your farther was High Lord until his wife sheathed a dagger in his heart. After she broke it of course, lying with a human." He snorted. "I always liked Sorcha and she me, but she was a foolish woman."

"Was?" I whispered. No one had confirmed my mother was dead, but then I knew in the core of me, she had not survived the horror of her own making.

He stared at me, pitiful once more. "She killed my uncle and the High lord, Rae. You expected her to live?"

Chapter Ten

It was cold. Noisy. Feeling returned in increments. First I could wiggle my fingers, toes then my legs. I moaned at the thumping at my temple and tried to bring my hands down to my face. My eyes groggily slid half-open when I realized I could not move them to obey. I looked down my body, now clad in a flimsy black sheath, and saw my legs drawn apart and held down by rough rope. I tried to remember, but the fog was still heavy over me and it was dark. I could smell trees, dirt, and fresh air heavy with smoke and something else, metallic and weird. I recognized this smell was wrong, bad, and yet so familiar. I tried to pull my legs, my arms, but I could do nothing but flail. Gasping, I drew deep and gritted my teeth. I opened my eyes fully and took in my surroundings.

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