Read Scorched Fury: A SkinWalker Novel #5 (DarkWorld: SkinWalker) for Free Online Page A

drew a complete blank." Mel's forehead creased with frustration.
    "Is it because she's Fae?"
    Mel gave a tiny, if unsure, nod. "Most likely it is. Fae are part of nature. It means their existence is one with the earth and all its elements. Fae of the land would be hard to track using earth or plants, and fae of the water would be impossible to track using water."
    I nodded, disappointment coloring my emotions. "So we are up the Veil without a paddle."
    Mel nodded, her lips curling in a smile. "Unless you have something else that belongs to her that we can use to track her."
    "Like what?" I heard the frustration in my voice and gave Mel an apologetic smile.
    She just shrugged it off. "She's Earth Fae right?"
    I nodded. "Yes. Metal to be specific. She uses her powers to make weapons." I stiffened. "Wait. Can Fae be tracked using their specific essence?"
    Mel nodded hesitantly. "I don't have a shit-ton of experience with tracking Fae, Kai. I can only assume that the Fae essence is more or less equivalent to human biological data."
    "So if you can track a human using their blood or tears or skin, then you should be able to track a Fae using the traces that they leave behind of themselves. And I know for a fact that Tara leaves a trace of her essence within her weapons. It's something that she worried about often. Very few people know about it though."
    "Why did she worry about it? I thought making weapons was her thing?"
    "It was. But her Court disapproved of her work here because of her essence remaining within each weapon she made. They were afraid it could be used against her."
    "They are probably right." Mel didn't look happy. "If we can track her using her essence, then the Fae Court could be proved correct. But, there aren't many teleporters around with my skill. So it's not as if every tracker would be able to find her just because they looked."
    I sighed. "I'm not sure how much she understood of how it worked, but what I do know is she did have a kind of mental link to every weapon she created. I once gave her a tiny sliver of metal and she read it well enough to know that she was the one who'd created the weapon."
    "Kai, that could work both ways. It could very well be that as a Metal Fae, Tara was just able to track the life of the metal by tapping into her Fae Ethereal power."
    I nodded, a thrill of excitement rippling through me. "I have a couple of knives that Tara made." I leaned over and rummaged inside my satchel, retrieving a wide-bladed, curved knife. I handed it over to Mel, handle out. Safety first.
    "Good. This should work." Mel took the knife and turned it over, studying the finely-honed edge. "Impeccable workmanship. So smooth."
    I grinned proudly. Mel knew, like me, that Tara used her fingers. Her body emitted a power which she used to melt metal with a touch of her fingers.
    "Incredible," said Mel, her voice soft as she studied the weapon. Then she turned it over, now all business as she prepared to track Tara.
    I settled back to wait, but within seconds of closing her eyes, Mel stiffened, her spine going rigid. She took a ragged, shallow breath. "I see her." She paused for a few seconds. "She's alive and well, although she appears to be stressed."
    "Where?"
    "A house. A brownstone."
    "Can you see a street name? A house number?" I was afraid that Mel would shut me up, but I couldn't help throwing my questions at her.
    She seemed unaffected. "Outside the window...the house across the street is 1270. I can't see a street name."
    "Anything else significant?"  
    "There's a magnolia tree right outside the window. Nothing in the room that could tell me where she is. And she's alone."
    So Mel couldn't overhear anything in a conversation.
    "It's ok. I'll project and have a look outside, get us a street name. Be back in a jiffy."
    Mel went still and silent, and I scooted forward on my seat, watching her intently.  
    I knew already that bad things sometimes happened to jumpers. Samuel, Mel's friend and mentor