by Maribel Fox
I sigh, shaking my head. “Your powers of denial truly are astounding— ow!” She kicks me under the table and I laugh as I rub the sore spot on my shin.
“It’s a ‘magic trick’ all right. I think of what I want from my trove and—” I reach and then offer my hand to her, a dainty glittering bracelet resting on my palm.
She looks at it dubiously.
“Take it,” I say, “it’s not doing me any good.”
She’s got that look about her, that look of temptation. She’s trying to hold out and remain cool, but the bracelet is quite shiny, and she’s got a bit of magpie in her.
Finally, she gives in, and her delicate fingers slide over my palm, collecting the jeweled chain. I help her fasten it, and against her skin it seems to sparkle even brighter.
“This isn’t gonna catch on fire or electrocute me or something, is it?” she asks, warier of the thing now.
“Shouldn’t you have asked that before putting it on?” I laugh, then laugh harder at the stern look she’s giving me.
“It’s not magic, calm down,” I assure her, my fingers sliding from her wrist, down to her hand, our palms pressed together. I feel the power in her radiating out, drawing me in.
“So you’re a treasure hunter,” she says, licking her lips. Wonder if her mouth's as dry as mine. Not sure a frosty beverage would do much to remedy it this time. “Why does that keep you from having a court?”
“Special thing ‘bout my trove — it’s mine. Once something’s in there, it’s mine, and no amount of coercion, force, or blackmail can change that. Has to be given up by free will, no strings attached. Given that, I’ve got more than my own fair share of things I’m holdin’ onto for ‘safe-keeping’ for others. That’s too much power for either of the two big courts to have. Would upset the balance.”
She frowns. “So you’re alone?”
I shrug. “You too, it would seem. Though you’ve got the power to make your own court, so it’s a bit different.”
She frowns at that, crossing her arms. “I already told you, I’m not going to—”
Never find out what she was going to say — though I reckon I’ve got an idea — because Raj comes bursting into the bar in a huff.
“Which one of you took it and what are you trying to pull?” he says, nostrils flaring, eyes pure black.
“What?” Ava asks, blinking up at him.
“I just went out to look at the sword again—” More like stare at it in frustration if I know the Devil. “—and it’s gone! I’ll ask it again, who took it, and what kind of trick do you think you’re playing?”
I lean forward on the table, narrowing my eyes at him, voice deadly calm.
“Why would it be a trick? Better yet, why do you care what happens to my sword? It is, by all rights, still mine. Ava may have some claim at this point, but you definitely don’t.”
Raj searches for an answer, sputtering some nonsense before regaining his composure.
“Does this mean that neither of you knows where the sword is either?”
“No,” Ava answers, frowning. “Maybe one of the other two have seen it?”
Raj’s face changes, and I see him making connections, though I make no claim to the legitimacy of those connections.
“I’ll find out,” he says, fists clenching at his sides before he walks out.
Ava’s frowning when she looks at me. “Do you think we should… Do something about that?” she asks, chewing on her bottom lip enticingly.
“Nah, I think we should continue what we were talking about.”
She sighs, her body crumpling. “Seamus, I already told you, I’m not interested in the responsibilities of being a Faerie Queen, and now you’re telling me that I’m supposed to have a court? Do you know how crazy that sounds? I don’t even know what a court does.”
“It doesn’t do much of anything beyond bein’ an authority. Makin’ laws, imposin’ punishments — meddlin’ in folks’ affairs. It’s sort of like… a family,” I say, swallowing the cursed lump in my throat. You’d think after enough centuries it would stop mattering.
A Fae without a court though… It’s not natural. It isn’t done. Except to me.
“You don’t have to decide all at once, but consider it, Ava. The courts could use some new ideas.”
She sighs again, this time cracking a smile as she does. “I guess I have to consider it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so serious about anything before, so it must be important.”
“’Tis, aye,” I say, nodding, gratitude filling me up.
“What about this door thing?” she asks. “What’s that about? I’m not saying I’m going to do it, but what would it… do, exactly?”
I scratch my chin and lean back with a frown. “Fairly sure that ship’s sailed, love—”
“What? I think I’d notice if I opened a door—”
“It’s not a door like yer thinkin’,” I say. “More like a bubble tha—”
“The Angel has no idea about the sword, so he says,” Raj says, bursting back in through the doors, no care for our obvious desire for privacy. “Have either of you seen Kushiel? He appears to be missing.”
I sigh, pushing my fingers through my hair, frustration taking hold.
“He mentioned a ‘disturbance in the force,’ whatever that means. Headed off to the forest a bit after dawn. You should chase him,” I say, making it clear that he’s dismissed.
For a moment, I expect Raj to let his pampered upbringing get the best of him, I think he’s going to challenge me for daring to speak to him that way, but then he seems to decide that his mission is more important, that Kushiel’s knowledge of the sword’s whereabouts is more valuable than asserting his dominance over me. Which he would fail to do anyhow. It’s a good choice when he decides to leave.
“Okay, now I’m really worried,” Ava says, looking back through the door Raj just left through.
“Why?”
She shrugs. “Because he is?”
“Wouldn’t let that be your compass, love. He’s got his own motivations.”
“But the sword’s missing,” Ava says, frowning. “I don’t like the thing, but haven’t we decided it’s kind of important?”
“Aye,” I say. “But it’s mine until I say otherwise. No one can circumvent that.”
She chews her lip. “You sure?”
“I am. There’s something else you should know about your abilities,” I say, approaching this subject carefully. Telling her is dangerous, because she’ll know she can do it, but not telling her only runs the risk of her accidentally doing it, which might be worse.
“My abilities? That sounds so weird. But you mean besides portals and courts? There’s more? Oh joy.”
It’s sarcastic, I know, but it gets a smile from me nonetheless.
“The closer you are to your source of power, the stronger your abilities are. And in your domain, you have absolute control — literally. You’re able to enthrall people to do your bidding, though there’s suggestion members of your court will be immune, so you must choose them carefully if you choose them at all,” I add the last bit to appease her, because I already see the objections forming on the tip of her tongue.
“Enthrall? Make them do my bidding? That sounds… messed up.”
“Perhaps, but ‘tis a perk of being Queen, nonetheless.”
Ava sighs and shakes her head, everything about her posture, her facial expression conveying disbelief.
“I need a drink. You want a drink?” she asks.
“Thought you’d never ask.” I grin.
We drink in companionable silence until we’re interrupted again, about an hour after the last interruption. This time it’s Raj, with Micah close on his tail. Both of them wear a grim expression that puts me on high alert.
“The Celestials are here,” Raj says. “An entire battalion camped out in the woods about a mile back. They’ve formed a semi-circle around the rear of the B&B, closing off all routes but the water.”
“What?” Ava
barks, her voice breaking.
“I have to go,” Raj says, shaking his head, looking at Ava with regret in the lines around his mouth. “I have to report back to Hell. I’ve put it off as long as possible, but not reporting an entire battalion of Celestials is a surefire way to end me.”
“But…” Ava says, stepping up to him, close enough that they’re nearly touching. She grabs his sleeve, eyes not meeting his. “I don’t want you to leave,” she says. “It feels like a bad idea.”
I have to concur with her.
“She’s right,” I say. “No good will come of you involving Hell at this point. What even is your loyalty to there still? Why not tell them to sod off?”
“It’s not that easy for me, Seamus,” Raj says, teeth clenched tight.
I scoff. “Bollocks. Not doin’ somethin’s a shiteload easier than doin’ it. Stay here, have a pint, we’ll sort out how to deal with the Celestials.”
Raj’s eyes darken dangerously and it’s obvious I’ve hit a nerve.
“Or’re you eager to spill all our secrets and return with your own backup?” I ask, tongue getting away from me. I’m not sure what’s up his arse right now, but it’s rubbing me the wrong way when we’ve got the bloody army of Heaven beating down our doors.
“That’s not it,” Raj says tightly.
“No?” Micah asks, skeptical as I am now that he’s considered it all.
“If it ain’t betrayal yer runnin’ off for, what is it, Devil?” I ask, thinking I’ve got him cornered. He’s played both sides long enough, but he’s gonna have to choose.
Raj is nearly shaking when he answers, his jaw tight, eyes barely slits. “Family. Duty. Honor. That’s what. Things you would never be able to understand,” he says, knowing just how low of a blow that is.
Can’t say I’m sad to see him go after that, fecking prick.
21
Ava
Raj is gone. Kush is missing. The sword is missing. And there’s a battalion in the woods?!
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask suddenly, my voice breaking. “There’s some army from Heaven outside? Why?”
Micah looks at me stone-faced. “I must only assume they did not approve of my lack of progress here.”
“Lack of… Because you didn’t bring the sword back?” I ask.
“Aye, and my head’s still attached,” Seamus says snidely.
“They would have preferred I have information about what you are doing here, but no one has wished you ill will,” Micah says carefully.
“Bullshite.”
Micah’s jaw tightens and his eyes flash gold — it makes me shiver, it’s such a ferocious look, like a lion ready to pounce.
“Kushiel was last spotted headed toward the Celestial encampments and no one has seen him since. Am I the only one who is alarmed by this?”
“No, of course not!” I cry, defensive. “I care. This is bad, right? We need to go looking for him right away. We need to—”
“I’m not so sure about that, love,” Seamus says, reaching out a hand on my arm, warmth spreading through me at his touch, at the gentle cadence in his voice. “Either of you seen signs of Kush in the encampment, or we foolishly marching into the enemy’s grasp with no plan or evidence?”
“What evidence do we need?” I protest, trying to ignore the warmth still seeping from his hand. Is it magic, or just Seamus? I shiver, hugging myself, pulling away from his touch. “Kush is missing and there’s an army out there.”
“Kushiel’s not exactly the type to be pinned down. Goes off on a whim when he wishes. Wouldn’t fret too much at the moment,” Seamus says, pouring himself a fresh drink.
Micah scoffs. “Kushiel always told me you were more than an informant, that you were his friend. I told him that you were not to be trusted. My only regret is that he is not here to see that I am right.”
“Oh, come off it,” Seamus growls.
“A friend would leap to his aid, as Ava and I are!” Micah protests. I don’t know though. I see Seamus’s point. What if Kush is out surfing and we get ourselves captured going to “rescue” him? Doesn’t seem very smart.
“Oh, suddenly his friend, are ye? Where was all this friendly concern when they lopped his wings off and abandoned him, eh? Where was this desire to find him when he went missing before?”
“Seamus,” I hiss under my breath. Kush and Micah’s relationship is strained and difficult, and none of our business. But here he is bringing up stuff I’m sure Micah doesn’t want to talk about right now.
“I had no idea,” Micah says, his voice tight, angry, but not at Seamus. Not anymore. “I was unaware of it all. Told he went missing in action, was presumed dead.”
Seamus scoffs. “Not even creative.”
“Clearly, I know that is not the truth now. And I know that Heaven cannot be trusted. When I reported back, they told me…” He stops, face going hard and serious. “They told me their plan,” he says under his breath, like he’s coming to some sudden revelation.
“Micah?” I ask. “What plan? What are you talking about?”
Seamus’s hand slides around my waist, and he pulls me tight against him. “Ever seen a man’s whole belief system shatter at once?” he asks, pointing me toward Micah.
I look up at him, scowling, confused. “What?”
“He knows not of what he speaks,” Micah growls absently, still looking thoughtful and distant. He’s pacing in place, muttering to himself in a language that sounds old.
“I know more than ye know, Angel. And I know them boys you’ve sworn loyalty to wouldn’t do the same for you and yours. And they’ve been lyin’ to you more than probably either one of us realizes.”
Micah stops his pacing and takes a long, deep breath, nostrils expanding, the vein in his forehead pulsing.
“I am going to speak with them,” he says finally, firmly. Completely resolute.
My heart drops. He just got back! I haven’t gotten to spend any time with him. And if he goes in now, goes to that military camp they’ve posted up, what if he doesn’t come back?
An invasion isn’t exactly a friendly hello. Whatever they want, I feel like there was a better way — a more diplomatic way — to go about it than a pure show of force.
I was pretty sure I didn’t have a favorable opinion of Heaven before, just from what I’d heard from the guys, but now I’m positive. Now they’re threatening my home, my family. That’s not okay.
It makes me want to fight. I guess that’s not all that surprising considering how frustrated I’ve been lately. I feel so helpless, so powerless to all these forces that are so much bigger than me. They’re bigger, and they’re more powerful, and they’re pushing me around, dictating what happens in my life whether I like it or not.
Well, I don’t. I don’t like it at all.
“You can’t do that,” I say, folding my arms. “That’s suicide.”
Micah shakes his head, and for a moment I forget that Seamus is standing right behind us. For a minute, it’s the two of us, eyes locked, and without a word, Micah tells me how much he needs to do this.
“I am not on their bad side yet. I may be able to talk some sense into them. Or, at the very least, get a look around the camp and see if Kush is being held somewhere. I have a much better chance of being allowed to leave if I enter alone, as one of their agents.”
I frown, my heart weighted with lead.
“I hate when you make sense,” I pout, looking up at him. “There’s really not a better plan?” I look at him, then back at Seamus, who shrugs.
“I’m content to wait,” Seamus says.
“I am not,” Micah says plainly. “But know that I am with you, Ava,” he says, lifting his hand, bringing it up, and stopping inches from my face.
I step forward, closing the tiny bit of distance remaining, and settle my cheek into his warm palm. His hand’s big enough to cover the whole side of my face, and I feel so safe and cherished looking up at him, being held so tenderly.
“And you�
��ll come back, right?” I ask, my voice smaller than I expect. I hated to see him go last time, but that was before. Before all this other stuff started happening, and now they’re all going off. Everyone’s leaving and even though it was exactly what I wanted, now I’m not so sure. Now looking at a future without these four seems crazy, and every time one of them walks out the door, a piece of me goes with them.
“I swear I will do everything in my power to return to your side, Ava. You have my word.”
I hate that there are tears in my eyes when I nod, and then that’s enough to dislodge a couple and I sniffle.
“Do not weep for me,” Micah says, his index finger under my chin, lifting my face to look up at him, his lips curling in a small, reassuring smile. “All will be well.”
I nod, swiping at the tears. Then I lean up on my tip toes and press my lips to his, not even caring if the kiss is salty because who knows if I’ll ever get the chance to do this again.
Micah looks just as stunned after this kiss as he did the last one, and he shakes his head, smiling.
“Not sure I will ever tire of that.”
“Good, come back for more,” I say, reluctant to let go of his hand.
“Care for her well,” he says to Seamus, expression entirely serious.
“You know it,” Seamus answers, equally stoic.
Men. Never mind that I was taking care of myself just fine before they showed up…
Now’s not the time for that rant. Micah leaves with only the briefest of glances over his shoulder, and then I’m left with a big gaping hole inside of me. I turn to Seamus, the only one left, and I want to cling to him desperately to keep him from going anywhere too.
“Now what?” I ask, almost afraid of the answer.
Seamus sighs, and leans over the bar from behind it. “How ‘bout a drink?”
22
Micah
Leaving Ava again has to be one of the harder things I have been forced to do in my long life. But I must. I am the only one who can talk any sense into the Celestials currently breathing down our collective necks.