Grim Fate (Codex Blair Book 5) Read online

  Grim Fate

  Book Five of The Codex Blair Series

  Izzy Shows

  Copyright © 2017 Izzy Shows

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by James T. Egan of Bookfly Design LLC

  BookflyDesign.com

  ISBN: 1548102431

  ISBN-13: 978-1548102432

  For my father, who never once questioned my dreams and always believed in me. My mother, who taught me the freedom found in creative pursuits. For Josh, my boyfriend, my biggest cheerleader, and my most devout fan. I couldn’t have gotten here without any of you.

  Contents

  Mailing List

  Also by Izzy Shows

  1. One

  2. Two

  3. Three

  4. Four

  5. Five

  6. Six

  7. Seven

  8. Eight

  9. Nine

  10. Ten

  11. Eleven

  12. Twelve

  13. Thirteen

  14. Fourteen

  15. Fifteen

  16. Sixteen

  17. Seventeen

  18. Eighteen

  19. Nineteen

  20. Twenty

  21. Twenty One

  22. Twenty Two

  23. Twenty Three

  24. Twenty Four

  25. Twenty Five

  26. Twenty Six

  27. Twenty Seven

  28. Twenty Eight

  29. Twenty Nine

  30. Thirty

  31. Thirty One

  32. Thirty Two

  33. Thirty Three

  34. Thirty Four

  35. Thirty Five

  36. Thirty Six

  37. Thirty Seven

  38. Thirty Eight

  39. Thirty Nine

  40. Forty

  41. Forty One

  42. Forty Two

  43. Forty Three

  44. Forty Four

  45. Forty Five

  46. Forty Six

  47. Forty Seven

  Also by Izzy Shows

  About the Author

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  Also by Izzy Shows

  The Codex Blair Series

  Grave Mistake

  Blood Hunt

  Dark Descent

  Wild Game

  Grim Fate

  One

  Miss Sheach,

  It has come to our attention that you are unlawfully practicing magic in the city of London. We shall come for you at dusk on the morrow. Failure to comply will be taken as an admission of guilt and is punishable by death.

  Gregor Reznik

  Commander of the First Hand

  The First Order

  I read and re-read the letter, unable to accept the proof in front of my eyes.

  I had been found out. Somehow, some way, it had happened, and there was no going back from it. Of course, the first thing that popped into my mind was the all-important ‘How?’ How had I been found out? Who had told the Order about me? Who was the snake who had endangered my life so recklessly? There was no way to know, even I knew that, but still … I wanted to know.

  I wanted to make the son of a bitch pay for ruining my life like this. Because, make no mistake, my life was well and truly over as of this moment. The Order was not going to allow me to live, not with all I had done. I might not have killed Deacon—it was Emily who had dealt that killing blow—but the Order wasn’t going to believe that for one second. They would want someone to blame, someone to pin it on, and I would be that someone. Then there were all the things I had done since then. Working with vampires to kill vampires, endangering the magical community to trap a succubus—not to mention, I hadn’t actually got rid of the succubus.

  Oh, yes, hello, Order. I know succubi are evil and whatnot, but I have one hiding in my friend’s house, and I swear we are totally rehabilitating her.

  Yeah, I was as good as dead. I was living on borrowed time.

  My second thought was to run. To pack my bags and beat it the hell out of there as quickly as possible. Flee to the continent. But the continent wouldn’t be far enough; the Order would have strongholds there. Africa, maybe? Would they have their fingers in the pie of the colonies, or would it be safe to flee there instead? I had no idea, but I knew I needed to get out.

  I jumped to my feet, the letter falling to the floor of my living room, and looked around me. My eyes were wild for a moment as I took in my surroundings as if for the first time. A small living room, cramped but cosy, with a sofa and two chairs, a coffee table, a fireplace, and a bookshelf. The bookshelf was overflowing, with paperbacks strewn on the floor in front of it, and the carpet was a dingy colour. It might have been white at some point in time, but now it was a brownish sort of grey.

  My hands shook. The left one was still in its sling, which held it more or less in place. It was then that I remembered my injuries, glanced down at the offending limb, and realized that I couldn’t flee. I wouldn’t make it very far, not with broken ribs and a broken arm and Gods only knew what other injuries I’d sustained at the Utakar’s hands. I was pretty sure I had fractured my cheekbone.

  The numbness started to leave my body as the reality of life settled in, the swamping pain taking me and driving me back down onto the couch from which I’d stood. So much had happened in so little time. I’d just met the King of the Wylde Fae, though I didn’t suppose he went by that title, and he had all but promised me the favour of his people if I ever had need of them. That was wild enough on its own. I’d also lost the fight of a lifetime. I’d been taken to the cleaners by the Utakar. It would have killed me if it hadn’t been such a sadist; it had decided it would be more fun to torture me for the rest of my life than kill me then and there. I almost wished it had killed me. At least it would have saved me from the Order doing it.

  Was it the Utakar? Had it somehow got a missive to the Order to inform them about me practicing magic? It had the ability to shapeshift; I had seen it take on Deacon’s face just to taunt me. It could have walked in anywhere, been any random person on the street, and alerted the Order to my misdeeds.

  Maybe they weren’t going to kill me …

  … Punishable by death.

  Right. They didn’t have any qualms about killing me; that much was obvious. And why would they? There wasn’t a person alive who would mourn me. All right, maybe that wasn’t entirely fair. Emily would probably mourn me.

  My heart twanged at the thought of her. I had come very close to never seeing her again, and here I was once more, facing the idea of not seeing her again.

  I should tell her how I feel.

  But I hadn’t admitted those feelings even to myself. All I’d let myself say, even inside my own head, was that she was a beautiful woman. A beautiful woman who made all the hairs on my body stand on end, who sent me into a tizzy whenever I was around her… Nope, just a beautiful woman. Any normal person could see that. Even a blind man would.

  I wanted to stand, to pace, but the pain in my side was too much for me to ignore just then. Wasn’t Shawn going to bring me pain medication? When was he going to get around to that?

  Better that he doesn’t com
e. There was another person who might mourn me but really shouldn’t. Shawn shouldn’t be involved in any of this. He had no part in my world, and that was becoming more and more obvious as time wore on.

  I huffed out a breath and racked my mind, not having a clue what to do. I was going to die. Shouldn’t I call my friends and say goodbye?

  There was one person who might know how to get me out of this.

  “Raven, I need you.” I sent the thought out into the world, knowing that it would find its way to Raven. Somehow, someway, they knew when I was calling them. I didn’t know how that worked, and, truth be told, I wasn’t particularly vexed about finding out the how of it, anyway. Raven was one person I didn’t mind being able to sneak up on me if it was necessary, because I trusted them. I didn’t trust a lot of people, but Raven wasn’t just any other person. They had found me at Tower Hill, had shown me the ritual circle that Deacon had been preparing, had been the one who had warned me that we were in over our heads. If it hadn’t been for them, I wouldn’t be standing here today—although a certain amount of thanks could be given to Mal for that, too. He was the one who had given me the power to take down Deacon, after all.

  But I wouldn’t have even known to ask for those powers if it hadn’t been for Raven. No, I owed Raven so much. A little trust was the least I could do.

  A moment later, a knock came at my door, announcing Raven’s presence. A small frown tugged at the corners of my lips—I would have thought they’d just appear in the living room. But maybe they were showing respect for my wards.

  I snorted. As if my wards could do anything against a creature as powerful and ancient as Raven. I wasn’t so foolish as to think that.

  Wincing, I stood and made my way to the door to let Raven in. They had once again chosen to take human form, rather than the raven after which I’d named them. I knew they much preferred the raven’s form, but their human form was absolutely intimidating. They were two or more heads taller than I, with a long and lanky build. Their hair was long, coming down to their shoulders straight as an arrow, and pure white, to boot. Their eyes were nothing more than slashes of silver, though if you looked closely, you might see a hint of colour in there.

  I didn’t like to look too closely at Raven’s eyes.

  “Why have you called me?” Their accent was strange, confirming their true heritage—not of this world—and they were always so terribly formal.

  I backed up a step, gesturing with my good hand for them to come inside. They obliged, and I shut the door behind them. Especially after what I had just been through, I wasn’t willing to stand around with my door open.

  Without answering them, I strode to the couch and picked up the letter off the floor, walked back to them and thrust the letter forward.

  Raven frowned and took the letter from me, plucking it away from my fingers and holding it up before their eyes. To anyone else, it would have appeared as though the letter bored them. Raven didn’t give much away with their expressions, but I had come to know them somewhat over the past two years, and I saw the way their lips pressed, the way the corners of their eyes tightened.

  They were afraid for me.

  “You are sure this is a true article?”

  I sighed, looking up at them with tired eyes. “That was my first thought, as well.” I grabbed the envelope off the coffee table and handed it to them so they could inspect the seal I’d broken when I opened the envelope.

  They nodded, their eyes looking grim. “This is not good.”

  “Well, don’t do anything to spare my feelings,” I said, trying for a joke.

  Raven frowned again. “I do not understand.”

  Thank the Gods, that made me laugh. If there was anything in this world I could count on, it was Raven not understanding my sense of humour. Or really, the concept of humour at all. They didn’t seem to laugh, no matter what the situation was.

  “What do I do, Raven? I’m going to die.”

  “You are certainly not going to die,” they said, shaking their head. They walked to the coffee table and put both the letter and the envelope down before they turned back to me. “Well, allow me to amend. I do not believe you are going to die, although the statistics are not in your favour.”

  My eyes bulged. “Raven! That’s not helping.” I tried not to panic, but it was starting to swarm me, tearing my mind apart. It was harder to breathe, and I had to go and sit down again. My ribs protested at the movement, but there was nothing to be done about that. I was just going to have to live with that pain.

  “I am sorry. Would you prefer that I lie to you?”

  “Maybe,” I said, picking at a loose string on my jeans. It was a nervous habit of mine, one I’d had since I was a small child. I was always picking at the fraying ends of my clothes—it soothed me somewhat, although it wasn’t doing much to help me right now. “Can’t you come with me? To the hearing? You could tell them I’m innocent, and they’d have to believe you.”

  For once, I saw an emotion in Raven’s eyes, and it burned me to my soul.

  Pity.

  I bloody hated pity. My cheeks flamed at the sight of it, and I looked away from them. They could get out of my house right now if all they were going to do was pity me.

  “I am sorry, Blair, but I cannot go with you. No one can. This is something you are going to have to face on your own.”

  Two

  “Miss Blair?”

  I was taken by surprise by the sound of Fred’s voice in the living room. I turned to look at him, taking in his wide eyes. Fred had unusually large eyes—some would say unnaturally so—but that was the way he was built. Incredibly short, with a large head and large eyes, and adorable ears to go with the whole thing. He tugged on those ears a lot when he was nervous, which was what he was doing now.

  “Hey, Fred,” I said, forcing a smile to my lips. “What are you doing up here?”

  Fred usually kept to the basement. He preferred to read and eat down there—and, I had recently learned, throw parties. I still needed to do something about that. He couldn’t just throw parties for spirits and expect me not to do anything about it.

  I felt much better with him there, though. His presence was soothing. He had me thinking about silly things like his parties, when I should be thinking about how I was going to survive tomorrow, and that was a blessing. I probably wasn’t going to survive tomorrow, and why not distract yourself while you still could?

  “What is happenings?” He crept closer to me and crawled onto the couch.

  Fred had a habit of speaking like a small child, and when you coupled that with his stature, it was easy to forget that he was an ancient and powerful creature capable of rivalling Raven. I know I forgot it more often than not.

  “Nothing,” I said, my instinct being to protect him. “Raven and I are just having a conversation about hypotheticals.”

  “Yes. Hypothetically, your mistress has a ninety-two percent chance of dying tomorrow,” Raven said, absolutely deadpan.

  My jaw dropped open for a second before I shut it and glared at Raven. If my eyes could have melted skin, they’d be a puddle right now. “Raven! Why do you have to talk like that?”

  “Because he is quite capable of understanding, Blair,” Raven said, turning their icy gaze on me.

  I quailed beneath their eyes, shifting my gaze away.

  Fred patted my thigh, drawing my attention to him. “Is it true, Miss? Is you going to dies?”

  “No, Fred. I promised you, remember? It’s not going to happen, not until I’m a grand, oh, hundred years old or something. I’ll die in my bed a happy old woman, and everyone will congratulate me on my splendid life. I certainly will not be dying tomorrow,” I said. I didn’t believe a word of that, but it was more of a joke than anything, so it didn’t matter that it wasn’t true.

  Yes, I would probably be dying tomorrow, but I didn’t want to worry Fred about it. The poor guy was so afraid of me dying, which made sense, because what would happen to him if I left? Aidan h
ad passed the house and Fred on to me, but I didn’t have a successor of that sort for him. He’d be on his own, and I wasn’t sure he knew how to handle that.

  “Then why is Raven sayings that you is going to die?” He tilted his head to the side, switching both hands to tug on one ear.

  I sighed. “Because the day has come for me to face the Order, Fred. They’ve sent me a summons. I’m going to face a hearing … but I’m going to get through it and come out the other side just fine. I promise.”

  “You cans not be knowings that!”

  My eyes flicked away from him for a moment before I lifted them again. He was right: I had no way of knowing that I’d be able to make it out of the hearing in one piece. The overwhelming evidence was against me. But that was the way I liked to live, right? With the odds stacked against me. I had never been one to take the easy road; I wouldn’t have stayed in this world of magic if I had been that type of person.

  “You’re right, Fred. There’s no way to know it for certain, but we’re going to do everything we can to get me prepared so I’ll have a fighting chance at this. What did Raven say? I have an eight percent chance of living? That’s better than nothing,” I said, cracking a grin.