Crown of Moonlight (Court of Midnight and Deception Book 2)

by K. M. Shea

  “This is an unusual situation,” Indigo agreed.

  “Congratulations,” Rigel told me. “You are so heretical, you are able to get the most powerful fae in the Midwest to brawl like drunks in a bar.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t even here when they started this,” I said.

  “Indeed,” Skye agreed. “But how are you going to use it?”

  I hesitated, and looked back at the fighting monarchs. “Rigel, could you get their attention?”

  I don’t know how he did it—I didn’t even see him pull his daggers from his bracers. He just casually flicked his hands and threw one dagger between Fell and Solis, and another that almost nicked Verdant on the arm.

  Verdant let go of Birch and scrambled to her feet, and Solis, Fell, and Rime all turned in our direction.

  “It seems like we have some repressed feelings,” I said as Birch’s color slowly returned to normal. “We should talk about it and get them out in the open.”

  “What’s there to talk about—why are we even having this meeting?” Birch asked.

  “Because.” I tried to sound as nice and sincere as possible, even though I really just wanted to punch Fell—I still hadn’t gotten over him dropping the monster in my realm, so it did my heart good to see Rime and Solis take him to task. “I’m formally requesting that the Fae Ring make me the fae representative on the Regional Committee of Magic next year.”

  Verdant frowned a little. “Why would you want that?”

  “The Autumn Court objects!” Fell announced.

  “As does the Summer Court,” Birch added.

  Of course the two bozos would. I glanced at Rime—she was the one I was most interested in hearing from, given that I suspected she would be the tie breaker.

  Rime straightened her grayish blue dress and cleared her throat—putting her figurative mask back on. “I would also like to hear why you wish for such a position.”

  I sucked in a breath and tried to steel myself—because here was where it got scary.

  When I first made the Night Court truly recognize me as queen, I’d used a combination of intimidation tactics, cleverness, and brute force.

  That wasn’t going to work with these guys.

  They were fellow monarchs and had their own Courts. I couldn’t dominate them, and I didn’t want to become a regional tyrant. Not to mention trying to scare them into following me would only make these stupid political games that much worse.

  No, I needed to do something terrifying.

  I needed to tell them what was really going on.

  “The fae are being targeted. Someone wants us out of the picture,” I said. “You can ask the Paragon and Solis to confirm it, but basically, there’s a group out there that would love to see us kill one another in our quests for power. I want the representative position because it’s the best chance I have at stabilizing our position, and reaching out and making alliances with other supernaturals.”

  My desire to be the new fae rep was the only reason why the Paragon had given me permission to tell everyone. If I failed to snag the spot, the Paragon had given me a back up plan that I had to follow, and I wasn’t too keen on it.

  Rime frowned. “Wait—there’s a group?”

  We all sat down—though I shook my head when Indigo asked if we wanted tea—and Solis and I, with some help from Rigel, explained everything the Paragon had told us about the shadowy organization.

  Rime pressed her long, slender fingers together. “And you think they’re targeting us?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Why?” Verdant asked.

  “What was your estimation of the Night Court before I took power?” I asked.

  Verdant looked away.

  “That’s why. Because the Night Court was a bleeding, wounded seal surrounded by sharks,” I said.

  “And what has this to do with the position of representative?” Rime asked.

  “I want the position, because it’s become apparent to me that we are our own worst enemy,” I said. “In all our infighting and backstabbing we don’t secure more power for ourselves, we condemn the fae to an earlier and earlier end.”

  “And you think you can lead us?” Birch scoffed.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Because I’m the only one who knows what it’s like to live without that kind of weight on them, and because I’ve managed to do it within my own Court.”

  “I don’t like it,” Fell argued. “The hierarchy system has existed for years, and we’ve flourished under it! Nothing needs to be fixed.”

  “Fell, it’s not, in fact, working,” I said. “My people have thwarted more assassination attempts against me than I care to remember. Rigel and I met because someone wants me dead. I love my Court enough that I’m willing to bust a few heads to save it.”

  “And as for us?” Rime asked.

  I shrugged. “Consider it your lucky day. I’m going to save you all whether you want it or not.”

  “There is nothing I wish to be saved from,” Birch grumbled.

  “Oh, not even the death of magic?” Verdant asked.

  Birch looked away and avoided her gaze.

  “I still think this is a plot. You wish to lull us all into a sense of laxness, and then you’ll snap up the power all for yourself,” Fell declared.

  “Or that you exaggerate, and you are the only one in danger,” Birch said.

  I glanced back at Indigo, but refrained from giving in to the temptation to ask for refreshments. I needed them to agree to this.

  “I am in danger,” I agreed. “But the monster dumped in the Autumn Court should make it obvious that it isn’t just me they’re targeting.”

  “I don’t know that we need other supernaturals,” Rime said.

  “We do,” I bluntly disagreed. “I know it’s been our instinct to hunker down with our own kind as magic gets weaker and weaker, but I’ve seen what happens when supernaturals work together. I was part of it—if only a little. If we reach out to them, the wizards will help us, and then the vampires will, too, because they’re nosy and more than a little bossy.”

  A faint smile twitched on Solis’s lips, but he was the only one.

  “Don’t misunderstand, I don’t intend to beg,” I said. “They need us just as we need them. They need our potions, wards, barriers, and magic. And we need their friendship so when giant Godzilla monsters attack us, we don’t just dump them on the nearest neighbor, Fell.” I couldn’t help that one little verbal smack, but Fell wouldn’t look at me. Who knew if he was even listening?

  “What, then, are you asking from us?” Rime asked. “This seems like more than merely making you the representative.”

  “Merely?” Birch sputtered.

  “I want your cooperation, and your promise that we’ll stop this stupid fighting,” I said.

  Birch snorted.

  “No more targeting what’s important to each other,” I said. “No more stag hunts, and the next person who tries to poison Flora is going to discover just how dark the Night can be,” I growled.

  Birch gaped at me, his eyes wide, his expression frozen somewhere between horror and…hope.

  “We work together,” I repeated.

  “Under your leadership?” Rime asked.

  “Yes.”

  Quiet enfolded the meeting room, and I held my breath.

  This was the defining moment.

  It was here that I found out if I alone was strong enough, and if they believed in me.

  Solis stood. “The Day Court nominates Queen Leila of the Night Court as the fae representative for the Regional Committee of Magic.”

  Verdant shot to her feet. “The Spring Court seconds this nomination.”

  The quiet shifted into a stifling silence that threatened to choke me.

  “The Winter Court approves of this nomination,” Queen Rime finally said.

  I mashed my lips together, and almost sighed with relief.

  Three Courts. I can be made representative with that. It’ll be a start.

&
nbsp; “Do you promise?” Birch asked.

  I blinked, unwilling to willy nilly offer a promise—that was a dangerous thing to dole out to the fae, who took their promises seriously. “Promise what?”

  “That you’ll work to protect Flora?”

  For a moment, my heart melted for Birch.

  Even though he was a jerk, and I’d let him fly out of the back end of my truck a dozen times without feeling bad, he loved his wife—I could only imagine how terrified he was for her to ask me that in public.

  “I swear I’ll do everything in my power to protect our Courts—including Consort Flora,” I said.

  Birch spoke almost before I finished saying Flora’s name. “The Summer Court approves the nomination.”

  I smiled.

  “I won’t.” Fell pointed to me, an ugly look of hatred flickering across his face. “I see the truth, unlike the lot of you. She just wants power!”

  “Actually, I would most love to be left alone in my big mansion with my handsome—and charming, smart, and witty—husband,” I said, adding a few descriptions when Rigel glanced in my direction.

  Fell shook his head. “I don’t believe it!”

  Don’t, or can’t?

  I briefly closed my eyes and wondered if I should end it here, or keep trying to reach him.

  Something in my gut said I almost had him, if I pushed just a little more.

  Rigel shifted his chair closer to mine. “Yes,” he said.

  I gaped at him. “How do you even know what I’m thinking?” I whispered. “Is that another one of your natural magics?”

  “No. I just know you. Keep pushing,” he advised.

  I squared my shoulders and glanced back at Skye and Indigo, standing together. They nodded encouragingly.

  “Fell, if I can have a moment with you?” I beckoned for him to join me in a corner of the room.

  He sauntered over to me, his chin held high—though he did step aside for Rigel when Rigel stood up.

  “I will reaffirm the information Leila has presented on the unknown organization,” Rigel said. I didn’t think he was planning on saying anything important—knowing him he was just covering up my conversation with Fell in hopes that the Autumn King would be upfront for the first time in his annoying life.

  I rested my hands on my hips and waited for Fell to reach me before I asked him. “Fell, why did you bring the monster to the Night Realm?”

  “Because I don’t care what happens to your Court,” he said.

  Wow. This guy has zero charisma to go with his punchable face. He’s lucky he didn’t go to public school in the human world.

  “That wasn’t the only reason,” I said.

  “Because it occurred to me it might successfully kill you,” he added.

  No wonder he’s still single.

  “And?” I asked.

  “There is no other—” He was cut off, unable to utter the lie.

  I wriggled my fingers at him. “Let me have it, Fell. Why did you choose the Night Court?”

  Judging by the way he was pursing his lips, he was going to simply not answer my question and duck his inability to lie.

  That was fine. I still had a few tricks I could use.

  “If you don’t tell me I’m going to assume it’s because you’re secretly madly in love with me and it was all a ploy to get my attention.”

  Fell growled. “You infuriating woman! Fine! It was because I knew out of all the Courts you were the only one who would have acted.”

  Whoa. That is not what I was expecting—I thought he was going to say he did it because he figured Rigel could kill it. But this is shocking.

  I could tell Fell was already regretting the outburst. He scowled at me and looked ready to march off in his anger.

  “Fell,” I said.

  “What?”

  I stretched my arm out, and in a half playful/half serious move, I lightly punched him in the chest, resting my fist over his heart. “I want that position, because I don’t want that to happen to any of our Courts again. The same way I was ready to pound you for Verdant’s stag—which you are still not off the hook for, by the way—I will go after any monster that tries to ruin your realm.”

  Fell shook his head. “No, you won’t.”

  “I will,” I said. “Write it off as my weak human blood, but I’ll do it.”

  Fell narrowed his eyes as he studied me. “You are insane.”

  “Yep!”

  “And weak.”

  “Oh, for sure. That’s why I had to call my hydra bro.”

  Fell growled like a cat, then turned away from me and stomped off. “The Autumn Court approves of this nomination—with a great deal of misgivings.”

  He threw himself down into his chair while I was still tottering back to my seat.

  I couldn’t believe it—Fell, the twisted king of twerps—agreed to make me the representative. I almost couldn’t believe it!

  My ears rang, and it felt like I was walking on clouds. I reached out and clasped Rigel’s hand, just to anchor myself.

  “Then the nomination is unanimously approved by the Fae Ring,” Queen Rime said. “Come January, I will step down as the fae representative, and Queen Leila of the Night Court shall take my place. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Birch said, his forehead split with wrinkles.

  “Agreed!” Verdant proclaimed.

  Solis glanced at me and smiled like a proud father. “Agreed.”

  Fell sank deeper in his chair. “Yeah, yeah, agreed.”

  “Thanks everyone,” I said. “I look forward to working with you.”

  It took all my control not to grin like a crazy person as I clung to Rigel’s hand.

  We’d done it. We won.

  The Courts would work with me. I’d have to make sure I stayed on top of them to keep them from petty fights, but the position of representative gave me some power.

  I can handle this—with help.

  I glanced at Skye and Indigo, and then grinned at Rigel.

  He slightly inclined his head, acknowledging my glee.

  The best thing is, I didn’t have to bust out the Paragon’s tea like I promised I would if they voted me down!

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Rigel

  I stood next to my bed and stared at Leila.

  Since I’d slipped off the bed, she’d burrowed under the mound of blankets I’d prepared for her. Only her face peeked out the side of a blanket—the rest of her was covered.

  She looked ridiculous—like a hamster.

  And somehow this hamster managed to drag me into politics, ruin everything I’ve worked for, turn the Night Court on its head…and make herself important to me.

  I was tempted to rouse her just to hear her voice—I still hadn’t been able to pinpoint what it was about her voice that was so enticing.

  But I knew she’d become an important entity to me—something I hadn’t ever thought I’d have.

  Sure, Dion had been my friend since we were kids. But my relationship with Leila went deeper.

  Out of everyone in the world, she’d become the one person I trusted, and the one person I believed in.

  It was something I couldn’t ever recall experiencing before.

  And they were still after her.

  A lock of Leila’s hair slipped over her face, and her nose twitched.

  I crouched down and tugged the blankets back just far enough that I could push the black lock to join the rest of her silky hair.

  I had spoken the whole truth when I’d said I thought the person who set the skull monster loose in the Autumn Court and the person who sent the shadowy creatures after Leila were different people.

  I was positive the one who had hired me was the same person who sent the snakes and the shadow creatures from the market, and based on the evidence and what I’d seen, I was equally positive that person had not sent the monster to the Autumn Court.

  However, both attacks undeniably used the same magic. Which means they’re using the sa
me supplier, or the one who hired me is just a front.

  I sat on the edge of the bed, making the mattress dip.

  As if she had some special sensor for my presence, Leila crept across my pillow and grabbed onto my jacket—still sleeping soundly.

  I’d wanted to tell her on at least twelve different occasions who had hired me to kill her when I first saw her. I’d tried finding ways around the geas that made me hold my silence—but writing didn’t work, neither did texting her, or even drawing pictures. I couldn’t even think the name, and my body froze up whenever I tried to give her a clue.

  Which, I was starting to realize, was a greater danger than I thought.

  She had no idea who was after her. And I couldn’t warn her.

  I tried to tug her fingers off my coat, but she latched on, her fingers white with strain as if she knew what I was about to do, and was trying to stop me.

  I was about to break another one of my “nevers” for her.

  When I’d first taken on the name of the Wraith, I had vowed I’d never work without a contract—and my services would never be free. There was no one I cared enough for that I’d ever hunt, track, and kill for.

  But she’d changed that.

  Sliding my fingers under her palms, I managed to get her hands to release my jacket. “I won’t be gone long,” I said. “I’m just going to investigate whoever is behind the monsters.”

  She didn’t wake up, of course. She was the heaviest sleeper I’d seen. Or at least she was in my room.

  “If possible, I’ll end them. Then you’ll be safe. But I will come back to you as soon as I can.”

  I’d also talk to the person who had originally hired me to kill her, but the geas wouldn’t let me say that out loud.

  Leila was still for several moments, and then she half sat up and wrapped her arms around my neck. For a moment I’d thought she’d woken up, but her breathing was deep and even, and I was positive she wouldn’t cuddle into me with quite so much abandon if she was conscious.

  She was warm, and there was something about the way she was a perfect fit tucked against me—her head leaning against mine—that made me slide my arms around her.

  It was foreign, but utterly intoxicating to have her so close. That she trusted me this much, but also that I enjoyed her weight leaning into my chest, was unexpected.