Orchid

The Blood of An Outsider...

Our situation just got from YIN SUCKERS, PREPARE FOR LAUNCH YANG to HECKIE NAW WE WORK FOR THE MISTRESS AND YOU AIN'T GOING NOWHERE.

 All of the Faeries look dizzy and slightly confused, but their eyes are unfocused and dark. Drat. I thought Lycaeon was lying.

 "Ha!" Lily laughs. "You're doomed, Orchid, from head to toe. I'll throw in a deal. If you come voluntarily with me, then I'll spare your friends. Fight, and everyone ends up dying." Her voice is uncertain and shaky. "I'm just doing my job, Orchid. Don't make me hurt you."

 I toss the blade to Talor, who catches it and flips it in her hand. "Knock her out," I say, filled with disgust at the thin pet traitor in front of me.

 "Right." Talor salutes and before Lily reacts, she whaps the flat of the blade against the back of her head. Lily goes down, out cold.

 Auklet stands up, dropping the greasy fries in her hand, her knees wobbly and knocking together. Her voice is a steady drone. Revive them, Warriors, else you want to be killed.

 "Look at your--look at your hand, Auklet!" I choke out, disappointed by how shallow she is now.

 She looks at me calmly. I barely recognize her now. Her eyes are dimmed, her body seems thinner and smaller, but she's dead calm. I obey none but my mistress, young Warrior.

  "Your brother is dead," I choke out, glaring fiercely into her blank eyes. "Killed by your dear mistress. Don't you care?"

 I wait for some break in her mesmerized state, some realization and grief. But I see none. 

 She smiles.

 Smiles like a creep, smiles like a fool.

 He died a loyal servant to my mistress, she murmurs dreamily. Of that I am happy and proud.

 "You are so sick in your mind."

 I am sick with love for my mistess. Her gaze turns dreamy, and at that time, I jump up.

 "Get her!" I shout, probing into the minds of the Faeries already. With ease, I shut off at least a dozen minds before a Faerie ambushes me from behind and knocks me to the floor with ease. My arm takes the worst blow, and I wince. The Faerie has pale, pale skin like snow and wide amber eyes like sparkling gold. Her teeth are bared, extended to rip into my bad arm. She senses my pain, like a wild animal. Her eyes look more feral than blank.

 "Get off me!" I spit at her, pushing into her side, but she doesn't react. I kick her in her belly, but she merely utters a sound. Her grip on my arms pin them down with unnatural strength.

 So Lycaeon gifted her followers with extra agility and power? Not surprising.

 The Faerie breathes down on me. Despite her pretty face, her breath is rancid, smelling like turnips and raw onions mixed together to make a disgusting smoothie. I've got you, she whispers in delight. Mistress will be happy.

 I close my eyes. Is this my second dying spot? I watch as she grins, pulls a butter knife from the table above, and raises it high above her head. The knife gleams silver, almost pretty when matching her perfect eyes.

 "Will you at least tell me your name?" I ask as a last request and to stall. I look around. Jason is wrestling with a Faerie, while Jenna is shooting Spirit tendrils at Auklet. Talor is slashing at the other Faeries. All of them are occupied.

 Not able to save me.

 Of course. Her lips curl into a wicked grin. It's Alomomola.