The elven king laughed without humor. “You are correct…and wrong. Your king is intelligent, but he is not true to you. King Athon sent you to your death as a sign of peace for my kingdom to not retaliate against yours for this action.”
The blue-eyed beauty didn’t understand, shaking her head in aggravation. “What do you wish us to tell him?”
The modest, golden ring of my father’s crown reflected the moon’s glow as he stated simply and without remorse, “Your bones on my castle’s gates will work just fine to soothe my soul.”
I quickly wiped the sweat that was dripping into my eyes.
Father lifted both hands, though he didn’t need to. He did it just to scare them, to let them know what was coming for them. Death. He was so powerful he could have done it with only his mind.
He was right. This wasn’t pretty or nice.
It was ugly and cruel.
What had been snarls, turned into wretched screams.
Fire raced from the circle surrounding them, eating at the closest to the wall that held them captive. The stench of burning flesh attacked my nose, and I choked on it. Their cries for help brought tears to my eyes. Red flames burned so high into the night that surely all five kingdoms witnessed the fury that is my king.
The circle closed in even further as the shifters who remained tried to escape. How I heard my father’s next words over their terrible bellows for mercy, I will never understand.
King Traevon said patiently, “Now is the time to exact justice with me, if you wish, Trixie.”
“I…I…” I blinked repeatedly.
I ducked behind my father and placed my back to his, my lungs pumping hard, sucking in death-filled oxygen. I trembled where I stood, pressing harder against him, and covered my ears with my hands, trying to keep the sounds of anguish away.
But they only grew louder as the fire burned brighter.
They were murderers…
They were murderers.
Murderers.
And I was hiding from our justice.
They killed my grandmother.
Bile slicked the back of my throat as heavy as my shame.
I dropped my hands from my ears and opened my eyes.
I would do this. I must.
My chin lifted. I turned and stepped beside my father.
I kept my eyes on the few shifters remaining and lifted my arms—because I needed to. Bright and furious fire shot from my hands, joining the king’s fire, the combined flames now touching the stars.
I ordered, “We get this done. Quit playing with them.”
King Traevon grunted, his emerald eyes now on me and not those he was killing. “As you wish, my heir.”
The king watched my face, never peering away, as we killed the last four shifters. I knew what he was doing. He was watching to see if I cracked, ready to protect me—even my mind—if need be. Father did this every time he introduced something new, a form of training I had never experienced. This time was no exception.
The four shifters dropped to the ground, dead.
“Keep going,” King Traevon said, his power abruptly cutting off. He crossed his arms and tilted his head; those eyes penetrated my soul. “I want all of them down to their bones. No more, no less.”
I gritted my teeth and used my shoulder to wipe away an errant tear that fell. “They fucking stink.”
“Everyone does when they burn. You must become accustomed to it, as appalling as it is.” King Traevon turned to face me fully, arms still over his chest. “You’re slowing down. It takes much to burn down to the bones. Put more power into it.”
I fueled my fire hotter. “Are you really going to put their bones on the castle’s gates?”
“Of course. Then I’m going to have King Athon over for tea to tell him once more I will not approve that fucking trade embargo. He must have had a new, untrained assistant create it before he put it to the rulers. It’s absolute shit.” His head teetered back and forth, lost in his own thoughts now. “I may leave the bones up too, just as a reminder, and I’ll need to have a caster spell them together so they hold their shape as a person.”
“Very creative,” I grumbled under my breath.
“And you will be staying on the coast in Sugar Cove at our summer home until I feel it is safe for you to return.”
“What?” My attention jerked to his face. “You can’t be serious!”
“I am. You have shown tonight that you need space from me, years to become your own person. That you are an adult now. Once your majority hits, you won’t have this freedom. I want to gift it to you before it’s too late.”
“I’m twelve years away from my majority.”
“And that is twelve years you could have of freedom that you’ll never have again.”
I let my hands drop, all the dead now only bones. “Wait, so is this for my safety or is it for my freedom? You’re confusing your own issues.”
“Look at it as both.” King Traevon placed his hands on my shoulders and bent his knees so that his head was even with my almost five feet of height. “Caspian will be going with you, too. You love your cousin, so you won’t be unhappy while you’re there.”
I crossed my arms and scowled. “Caspian? You mean your best assassin, who just so happens to be my best friend that slipped and told me about his assassination of the previous shifter king for you?”
Father grinned—a bit evilly. “That would be the one.”
“He won’t like this punishment.”
“What’s not to love about a vacation?”
“A lot. For him. And me.” I flashed my fangs. “I’ll never forget this night.”
CHAPTER ONE
Confession of a princess:
My grandmother finally showing up was not what I had expected. I’ve missed her for twelve long years, and she just pops in with an order? I’m somewhat pissed off.
Death has made my sweet grandmother cruel.
Where in the Fae fuck has she been?
Why did she abandon me for this long?
I dug my toes down into the sand and clanked my wine cup against Caspian’s drink. “Happy thirtieth birthday to me, my friend.”
“Oh, to be that young again.” Caspian snickered and sipped at his fruity concoction, both of us lying on the beach and eyeing the waves we’d never set foot in without an invite and an army—Merfolk Kingdom. “Actually, Trix, I would certainly not want to repeat your age. Once was enough. The time of majority damn well blows.”
“What? The fact I’ll never age another day in my life?” I purposely ignored his real meaning and lifted my cup to the sky in silent cheers to the beloved Fae. “Immortality, thank you very much. I do appreciate being beautiful and…well, not becoming the ugly that would inevitably occur after thirty.”
My cousin snorted. “You’ve been reading our dead grandmother’s books again, haven’t you?”
The excited expression I wore said it all. “Did you know there is an actual drawing of the Misfits? The gremlins are utterly hideous. Though, it’s not said if they were always that ugly or if it occurred when they ate the Fates.”
“I’m sure you are right in that they are atrocious to look upon.” Caspian downed the remainder of his drink, flagging a servant to fix him another.
“They have wrinkles on their faces and large moles everywhere!” I waved at my own face for emphasis. “Can you imagine living here having bodies like that?”
“Perhaps, they shouldn’t have been greedy enough to eat our Fae-gifted Fates, whose power trapped them in our realm. Serves them right.” A new drink was placed in his waiting hand, his old one taken away in perfect silence. Caspian’s roguish, short white hair rested over the side of his face, hiding one of his dark blue eyes from view—like usual. “But you brought up a good point. Have you ever considered that the Misfits think us the ugly ones? Who really knows what their dark Fae brethren look like? We could be abnormal to them.”
My red brows furrowed. “That’s just sad.”
I sighed, not liking the swing in our conversation. “It’s my birthday. Let’s talk about something more cheerful.”
“All right. Do you wish to converse about what you dodged so beautifully before?” Caspian’s smirk was inevitable, the creep. “Your majority is here. Do you think the king will lift his ban for us now?”
I stuck out my bottom lip in a fake pout, one he knew all too well. “Has it been so awful of a vacation for you? Spending your time with me?”
His eyes rolled to glare at the burning sun. “You and I both want to get back to Gatlin Grove. Don’t pull that shit with me.”
I tapped his arm playfully. “Maybe, next time, you won’t open your mouth when you’re not supposed to.”
“You were the only person I told, you rotten tattletale. And we’ve been removed from society long enough. You’ve had your freedom, and I’ve served my sentence. I’m ready to go home and forget all about sand and the ocean for the next one hundred years. To Fairy and back for Sugar Cove!”
I raised my chin and laughed at his dramatics, lifting my caster-spelled ring right in front of his face. “Do not pretend that we’ve been completely removed from civilization. We go out almost every night to town and have fun when the urge takes us.”
Caspian’s lips twitched. He peered down at his own caster-spelled ring, the rings explicitly made to hide the call that takes all of Fae’s created children by carnal storm. It only happens when the person might be a potential soul match, and the rings hide and protect the pheromones that lash out at everyone, except the two—sometimes three or four—specifically involved. And when the urge strikes, those affected never escape.
Caspian chuckled, and muttered, “Well, I can’t argue with that. I thought for sure that pink-haired beauty last night would have been my soul mate.”
I hooked a thumb over my shoulder toward the summer home behind us and proceeded to finish my cup of wine. “Did you know she ate all of my strawberries? She’s still in there stuffing her damned face with our treats!”
“Hopefully, she’ll get the hint and leave soon if we stay out here long enough. And don’t give me that look. That one fellow you brought home a few months ago, freakishly sang while you two screwed. I had to listen to “Oh, How Pretty Your Tits Are” to the beat of your headboard banging against our adjoining wall.” He shook his head in horror. “And other songs. That night of nightmares will forever be embedded in my brain.”
“I did knock him over the head and pull his body outside once the urge wore off. I didn’t even wait to put his clothes back on him,” I pointed out. I wiggled my cup at my servant, but, damn, did I feel bad. “I’m sorry we kept you up. You and I should have picked a different house where the bedrooms weren’t so close.”
“Like King Traevon would have allowed that to happen.” Caspian sighed and rested his head back on his blanket, closing his eyes. “With any luck, he’ll be forgiving soon. I really need to kill someone again.”
“So says the assassin,” I grumbled, drinking half of my new cup of wine in one large gulp. “I have no idea if he’ll even let me start any royal duties. The last night we saw each other wasn’t wonderful. I hope he knows that I’ve grown up by now.”
“You are still young,” Caspian mumbled, peeking at me with his one visible eye. “But you have changed. He will see that.”
“I hope so.” I dug my toes lower into the hot sand. “Like you, I am sick of this place.”
“As I said before, to Fairy and back for Sugar Cove!”
* * *
“I love Sugar Cove,” Caspian slurred later that night. He draped his right arm over my shoulders and waved his tankard of ale at the crowd, sloshing the dark brown liquid all over our small, circular table. His cup was now empty. “I love all of you backward bitches!”
The crowd inside the tavern roared their love back.
My ringing laughter tickled the air, then I shouted to the barkeep, “We need another round!”
King Traevon’s coffers had been spent aplenty at this particular tavern over the past twelve years. No apologies would ever be given from me. Or Caspian. If the king wanted to call this a ‘vacation,’ then we treated it as such. With much, much ale most nights.
We kindly splurged for our guards, too.
We handed them coin for the night, and they pretended not to notice when we snuck out the back of the summer house for our nights of jolly fun. It did help that my people had not a damn clue who I really was, or who Caspian was. They believed we were simply acquaintances of the king’s soul mate, Minnie, and we were renting the royal summer abode until King Traevon deigned to visit again. The perks of being a reclusive princess and the king’s secret assassin, no one was the wiser—as long as they never snuck into the stables and saw my Fae-gifted pegasus, seeing as only rulers and their heirs had them.
One poor fellow had done just that.
I still wasn’t sure what happened to him.
My guards quietly handled the issue, thank the Fae above and below. Even though I had taken care of ‘business’ once with Father, I was in no rush to smell molten flesh again. There were nights when I swore the stench was still stuck in my nostrils, even if Caspian had sniffed at my nose and told me he only smelled pampered bullshit.
I smelled the air carefully. There was no hint of burned anything tonight if you didn’t count the wooden logs aflame inside the large rock fireplace in the corner that heated the tavern. That smelled like chestnuts, pleasant and unassuming.
Jenavene set our new tankards down on the table in front of us, her ample bosom spilling out of her low top directly in front of my eyes. Flirting, always flirting with me, even though she knew I was only interested in men. She never gave up. I had to give her that.
She winked. “Is there anything else you need?”
I hiccupped through my drunken chuckle. “I think we’re good. Thank you, Jenavene.”
“Actually, I would like some stew…” Caspian’s voice trailed off, an irritated scowl promptly gracing his pretty features.
Jenavene was already walking away, her hips swaying.
I snorted and grabbed my new drink. “There, my friend. I’d like to say she doesn’t do that on purpose, but I’m pretty sure she does.”
“It is so annoying. She doesn’t treat any of the other men like that here.” His belch was long and loud. “I don’t understand.”
I bumped the side of my head against his. His arm still slung over my shoulders; our posture sloppy drunk on our wooden chairs. “It’s very simple, Caspian. I just don’t think she likes you.”
His attention lurched to me, his uncovered dark blue eye wide in fake astonishment. “But…but…I’m so sweet.”
I burst out laughing right in his face, perhaps a bit of spittle splattering his nose. “You are only sweet to the women you take to your bed, and that’s before you take them. Afterward, you are a complete prick.”
“For shame. I never act that way.” His crooked smirk flashed.
“Sure, my friend. Sure. You are as holy as they come.”
“Actually, I have had women tell me that it is an entirely holy experience when I make them—”
I slapped my free hand over his mouth, stopping the rest of his sure to be disgusting sentence. “I think I understand. No words are needed.”
Muffled behind my hand, he muttered, “You wound me.”
“You’ll get over it.” I removed my palm from his mouth when he decided biting it with his damned fangs was the best option. I pushed his new tankard toward him. “Finish this off. It’s getting late, and we’re going to pass out here if we aren’t careful.”
Caspian’s eye roll matched my own. “Yes, one time of Jenavene’s cranky father smacking us awake with a broom was enough. I’d rather not have a repeat of that not so entertaining morning again.”
“Agreed.” We toasted once more. “To my birthday.”
“To your birthday, Trix. May
you have many more to come, with plenty of cock that doesn’t bore you to tears, and no more views of a beach for the foreseeable future.”
“I’ll drink to that!”
As one, we chugged our last drinks.
I put my tankard down and tossed plenty of coins inside it.
Caspian slammed his empty tankard on the table and stood up on wobbly legs, extending his hand to me. “Shall we?”
“We shall!” He helped me to my equally unsteady feet, and I leaned heavily against him to say quietly, “You just flashed your daggers to one and all. Reckless, cousin.”
Caspian quickly pulled his long leather coat closer to his body, concealing his illegal blades—since any blade was illegal in all kingdoms—and glanced at the customers surrounding us. Fortunately for them, they were as smashed as we were and too involved in their own conversations to notice. He shoved me gently toward the door, mumbling, “The sooner the king wants us back, the better. My blades need blood.”
I laughed as I trudged from the tavern, holding the door open for him with gallant flair. We were soon walking down the cobblestone streets and singing at the top of our lungs for one and all to listen to, despite the late hour, allowing them to join in the olden, jaunty tune if they wished. Of course, we disregarded any angry shouts sent toward us…
The merfolk swim quicker than thee,
The shifters bite harder than thee,
The gorgons stone better than thee,
The casters spell quieter than thee,
But, oh…but oh…
The elves will swindle thy enemy!
But, oh…And oh…
The elves will burn thy enemy!
And oh…Wee oh!
The elves will decimate thy enemy!
Yay oh!...Fae oh!
We elves will drink thee under.
We elves will drink thee under!
Fae oh!...Fae oh!
We elves will drink thee under!
Caspian banged open the front door to the summer house, our laughter and our repeated rowdy melody filling the quiet space. A few groans and rolling of eyes came from the guards in the shadows of the nooks in the walls, but we continued with our amusements. The crystal chandelier may have swung precariously above us a few times, but the lighting fixture never fell in our revelry—though, the colorful table Mother had once favored was no longer in working order. It would give the servants something to do tomorrow from their tedious, vocally whispered, boredom as of late.
Marvels and Misfits Page 3