by Wendi Wilson
I didn’t need elemental magic. Good, old-fashioned Glamour would do the trick.
Tiana screeched in pained outrage as I yanked her head back. Her expression morphed from one of anger to fear as her brain registered that it was me assaulting her. I stared into her navy blue eyes, a sardonic smile twisting my lips as I spoke with true intention.
“Tiana Avery, you love Professor Ellie Goodman. She is the best teacher you’ve ever had. She is a wonderful, sweet, amazing Sylph, and you will beat down anyone who says otherwise. You will never say a bad word to or about her, ever again.”
After those words, I released her and stalked back to my desk. I avoided all eye contact, especially my mom’s. I figured she was going to lay into me for that later, but it was worth it. She didn’t deserve to be treated like shit, and Tiana had it coming. To me, it was win-win solution.
I slumped into my seat, catching Shaela’s shoulders bouncing up and down in my peripheral vision. She was failing miserably at holding in her laughter, which made it doubly hard for me to keep the scowl on my face like I wanted. My lips turned up against my will.
“Miss Avery, are you okay?” Mom asked, finally breaking the stunned silence that followed my spectacle.
“Oh, yes, Professor Goodman. I couldn’t be happier to be in your class, learning from your infinite wisdom.”
Two-thirds of the class burst into laughter, and Tiana’s gaze jumped around the room, wide with bewilderment. I pasted a look of pure innocence on my face as I met my mother’s stare. Despite the stern look on her face, there was humor dancing in her bright blue eyes.
“December,” Ellie said, her voice more mom-like than I’d ever heard it, “you shouldn’t have done that.”
I met her stare without a word, my brow furrowing in a mutinous expression. I was not going to take it back. Ellie deserved to have a good first day without Tiana Avery being her usual bitchy self. My Glamour would wear off after a few hours…unless I decided to reinforce it. The thought brought my smile back.
Ellie shook her head and turned around, writing something on the board as she explained the purpose of the class and her expectations for us. Shaela leaned across the aisle, holding up a fist. I bumped my knuckles against hers and she leaned in even closer.
“That. Was. Epic,” she said, her words slow and succinct and punctuated with an evil grin.
I arched a brow at her, saying, “You could have done that a decade ago and saved yourself a lot of grief over the years.”
Her expression turned thoughtful, like she was imagining a life where Tiana kissed her butt all the time. I swatted her on the arm, and we both laughed.
Shaela never had and never would manipulate someone’s feelings for her own gain. She’d spent too much of her life being ridiculed and shunned for having the ability. She was too smart to prove all the bullies right and make people like her.
I wouldn’t either. Not for myself. But for the ones I loved? I’d do anything. There was no limit, no hard line I wouldn’t cross to protect the family I’d waited for all my life.
And the sooner Tiana learned that, the easier it would be for all of us.
“Excuse me, Professor Goodman?”
All eyes in the room chased to the door, where a young Sylph stood half-in, half-out of the room.
“Yes?” Mom answered.
“Mr. Oberon would like to see December Thorne.”
My heart took flight for a moment, thinking Finn was awake, but then I realized the girl was talking about Easton. If Finn had awoken, the news would be all over the school within seconds.
“Well, that was quick,” Shaela murmured. “Hope you’re not in too much trouble.”
My eyes widened as I gathered my things. Could Easton be calling me to his office to reprimand me for using my Glamour on Tiana? How did he even find out? No one has left the room. I squeezed my eyes closed. Freaking cell phones.
“Then again, maybe you want to be in trouble,” Shaela continued. I glanced at her, and she shrugged. “Maybe he’ll want to spank you.”
That last bit was accompanied by waggling eyebrows and a knowing smirk.
“Oh my God, Shaela,” I hissed, then elbowed her on the shoulder as I walked past.
Her laughter followed me down the aisle as I shot Mom an apologetic look. I’d wanted to protect her from Tiana’s hatefulness, not disrupt her entire class on her first day. She smiled at me softly as I walked out, and I knew she wasn’t mad.
When I got into the hall, I picked up the pace. Whatever the reason, I was going to see Easton and nothing was going to hold me back.
CHAPTER 11
“Easton, I—”
My breathless words lodged in my throat as I burst into Finn’s office. Easton sat behind his grandfather’s desk, his hands clasped on the smooth surface and a stern look on his face. But that’s not what froze me in place.
It was the sight of Alwyn Jameson striking a regal pose in front of him, his white-blonde ponytail gleaming in the lamplight. He turned at the sound of my voice, his expression equal parts fear and disgust as his gaze lighted on me. The last time we’d come face-to-face, he’d pissed his pants in fear.
I could see he hadn’t forgotten.
Movement to his left caught my attention, and my jaw slackened as I laid eyes on the gorgeous creature beside him. Her hair was a light, golden blonde, just a shade darker than the man next to her. Her eyes looked like liquid silver, and her timid smile revealed a set of tiny dimples.
“December, I’d like you to meet my mother, Freya,” Easton said, his voice deep with an emotion I couldn’t quite name. “Mother, this is December Thorne.”
As Freya Jameson took a step toward me, her husband made a noise of objection. She stopped, her body tensing as she leaned slightly away from him. Like she expected a negative consequence.
Like she expected a blow.
Anger rose up inside me, begging me to unleash my power on the despicable piece of shit. But before I could respond in any way, Freya straightened her spine, threw her husband a disgusted look and marched over to me.
She didn’t stop until I was wrapped so tightly in her arms, I could barely breathe. She pressed her cheek against mine and whispered into my ear.
“My son told me what you did for me. Thank you.”
Then she released me and put some space between us. I studied her face as she studied mine. She was pretty and petite—well, petite for a faery. We were all tall by human standards, but Freya was only about five-foot-eight. I towered at least three inches over her.
She had kind eyes and an honest smile, and I couldn’t figure out how anyone could ever treat her the way her husband did. She oozed warmth and comfort.
My eyes strayed to Alwyn and narrowed.
“My parents have come to stay for a while,” Easton said, pulling my attention away from his sleaze of a father.
“Really?” I asked, my eyes widening, but then it hit me.
Finn was Freya’s father. Of course, she’d want to come be near him while he was ill. My eyes slid back to Alwyn and I couldn’t suppress a smirk.
He apparently took my warning to heart.
After witnessing the aftermath of him physically abusing his son while using his wife for leverage, I’d scared him so bad with my elemental powers that he’d wet himself. I’d warned him that if he ever hurt his son or wife again, I’d kill him.
I was so angry at the time that I’d completely and irrevocably meant what I’d said. I would kill him.
Now, I wasn’t so sure I would do it, but it seemed the threat was enough. Freya was here. And despite his discomfort with his father’s presence and the reason behind the visit, I knew Easton was glad. He missed her terribly.
“I’m so happy to finally meet you,” Freya said to me.
“I am too,” I said, my eyes growing misty. “I am so sorry about your father. He is a great man, and I…care for him deeply.”
Alwyn made a scoffing noise, but Freya pretended not to hear. Her ey
es glassed over and her smile turned sad, then she sniffed delicately.
“Yes, he is,” she agreed. “I’m glad I can be here for him while he recovers.”
There was a sharp edge to her words, an undercurrent of bitterness and anger that was impossible to miss. My eyes flicked to her husband, but he was paying us no mind. He was leaning over Easton, whispering furiously in his ear.
Easton’s features were tight with annoyance, his skin darkening nearly as much as his aura. I could only imagine what Alwyn was saying, and I was positive I wouldn’t like it either. The man radiated imperious hostility.
Freya turned to see what I was staring at, and a low growl sounded in her throat. She took a few steps forward and clasped her hands in front of her.
In a syrupy-sweet voice, she said, “Alwyn, darling, would you be so kind as to walk me to our rooms?”
Her husband rolled his eyes as he straightened and stepped away from Easton’s desk. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut as his eyes chased to mine. I narrowed my gaze at him, silently daring him to mistreat Freya in my presence.
Clearing his throat, he stepped toward her and gallantly offered her an elbow.
“Of course, my dear,” he said and looked back at Easton. “We will continue this later.”
It wasn’t a question, and Easton didn’t respond. Ignoring his father completely, he smiled at Freya and told her he would see her at dinner. As the door shut behind them, it felt like the room suddenly filled with oxygen. We could breathe.
Easton stood, rushed around his desk and swooped me up into his embrace. I looped my arms around his neck, pressing my cheek into his shoulder, and we stood like that for a long while.
“I’m so happy she’s here,” he whispered. “I just wish it wasn’t necessary for her to bring him.”
“Couldn’t she visit without him? I mean, he’s been here without her several times.”
He pulled back and smiled, his eyes soft and filled with affection.
“While you may have greatly improved her quality of life with your threats against him, he’s still Alwyn Jameson—greedy, bitter, and controlling. Besides,” he said, his smile faltering, “there is no telling how long she’ll need to be here.”
“Has there been any change?” I asked, brushing his hair back from his forehead.
“No. He’s still unconscious, with no signs that he’s getting closer to coming out of it.”
“I’m so sorry, Easton,” I whispered, my eyes stinging.
“Don’t,” he said, his eyes bright with pain. “Don’t talk like he’s already gone.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t,” he interrupted, pulling me back into a hug. “I’m sorry. I’m just on edge. My father does have a way of making everything worse.”
I leaned my head back, far enough that I could see his face and asked “What did he say?”
“He’s been in my ear since he arrived, giving me suggestions. Changes I should make to the academy, new laws to enforce on the Sylph community as a whole, and offering keys for total world domination. You know, the usual.”
He stepped out of my arms and scrubbed a hand down his face. As I watched, I realized how tired he looked. There were dark circles under his eyes and frown lines etched across his forehead.
I tilted my head, asking, “Are you getting any sleep?”
“Not much. When I’m not busy being king, I’m headmaster, and when I’m not doing that, I’m sitting with Grandfather. I haven’t attended any classes and I don’t even want to think about how far behind I’ll be when he wakes up and recovers enough to resume his duties.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him how much I missed him, but I bit the words back. He had enough pressure on him as it was…I didn’t want to add needy girlfriend to his list of worries.
“Take my mind off of all this,” he said with a weary voice as he led me to the chairs by fireplace. “Tell me about your day.”
“Well, my mom started teaching today,” I said, hoping my smile would cheer him up.
I told him about Tiana’s nasty comments and my response to the whole thing. The description of me Glamouring her into sucking up to my mom made him howl with laughter, just like I’d hoped it would.
Far too soon, he was called away. There were kingly things that needed to be done, and I was, once again, alone.
I took a deep breath and pushed down my disappointment. I decided to think positively.
Soon. Finn will get better, and this will all be over…soon.
CHAPTER 12
“It seems you have mastered wind and fire, and while you have no problems calling forth water, you should learn to wield it. It’s good for so much more than just creating electrical storms.”
I tilted my head as I stared at my grandfather, excitement making my nerves jump under my skin. I’d been working with Mom and Dad almost every day, so I was surprised to find Puck waiting for me today instead. I couldn’t even imagine the things he could teach me.
“Okay,” I said. “Like what?”
“Well, as you know, the Fae can imbue the rain with healing magic, renewing the soil and making the ground fertile again, reviving the plants and trees, and basically healing the sickness that’s debilitated the planet.”
I did know that. The Zephyrs had used that magic to help the humans. They cleaned the drinking water, revived the dead soil so crops could grow—but only in certain areas that they had total control over. It was how they kept the human race under their proverbial thumbs.
But, for some reason, though I knew all of this, it never occurred to me that I could do it myself. I thought I was human my whole life and the Zephyr magic always seemed like some highly-coveted secret that only they knew.
Apparently, my brain was still wrapping around the fact that I was one of them.
“But there are other things you can do with water,” Puck continued, pausing my wandering thoughts. “Things that will aid you in battle. Give you an advantage.”
With those words, he raised his hands into the air. His eyes slid closed as if in concentration, and a light breeze ruffled his hair. I watched in fascination as his hands circled around each other like he was rolling an invisible ball between them.
My hair stuck to my neck as the humidity in the room escalated. It wasn’t really hot in the gym, but I was sweating, nonetheless.
I forgot all about the sticky feeling when a white mist started to form between Puck’s moving hands. The mist rolled and swirled, forming a round shape that seemed to be quickly solidifying. My eyes widened and my mouth fell open as the mist turned into actual water.
My grandfather’s eyes opened, and he smiled at me, saying, “Water is slightly more difficult to shape than air, but with practice, you will be able to pull it to you and form whatever you need to aid you in battle.”
He spread his hands apart and the ball of water expanded growing larger and larger until I was sure he’d lose control of it. Then, in a move that looked like it had been practiced many, many times, he spun around. In a fluid motion, one hand dropped and the other reared back over his shoulder, the ball of water going with it. He launched it forward and, holding its spherical shape, it flew through the air and splashed against the far wall.
I clapped my hands and grinned as he turned back to me and bowed with a flourish. He arched a brow, waiting for me to speak like he already knew what I was going to say.
“That was really cool and all, but how will splashing someone with water help me in battle? If I do that to Sebille, it’ll just piss her off more because I got her hair wet.”
He smirked, his eyes taking on a faraway look like he was imagining that happening. When he refocused his gaze on mine, he arched one finely sculpted brow.
“That was but a mere demonstration of the ability, my dear,” he said. “Imagine using water to flood the battlefield, pushing your opponents away from you should the need arise. Imagine using rain and mist to blind them, giving you
time to move positions and regroup.” His blue-green eyes narrowed and a dark smile twisted his lips. “Imagine forming spears of ice to pierce the hearts of your enemies.”
My eyes widened as my breath hitched in my throat.
“We can do that?” I asked in wonder. Then a frightful thought hit me. “Wait, can all Fae do that?”
Magic, I could handle. Physical combat? Fine. Giant icicles flying at my head? I wasn’t so sure.
“Only the most advanced magic users can form ice quickly enough to use it in battle. It’s not practical, with the time and energy it takes, not to mention total concentration. But you, my dear granddaughter, are no typical faery. If my theory is correct, and they usually are,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk, “with practice, you should be able to form them efficiently and in great speed.”
“You think so?” I asked, the doubt evident in my voice.
“Why don’t you give it a try? Nothing spectacular, mind you. Just an ice cube to start. Something you would use to chill your drink.”
“But how? I mean, I know how to call water, but how do you freeze it?”
“The same way you turn air into a tornado,” he explained. “You call forth the element, then will it into the form you desire.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t so sure I really got it. Directing wind into a cylindrical shape was not the same thing as changing its physical state. But Puck was older and more experienced than me, and I decided to trust him.
“Cup your hands together like this,” he said, wrapping his hands together while leaving a gap between his palms.
I copied his movements, and imagined water forming inside. The element came quickly and, just as quickly, poured out of my hands and onto the floor.
Puck nodded, his expression turning serious.
“Well done,” he said. “You have a great command of water to pull it forth so effortlessly. But, with changing the physical properties of water, you must always be thinking one step ahead. When you call the water to you, you must already be focusing on the form you want it to take, which is why you saw me forming the ball with my hands first. Try again.”