Shadows and Sorcery: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Adkins, Heather Marie

  “Positive.” I nudge her elbow in the direction of Trish’s group. Trish, Brittany, and Lana are all beautiful, but they’ve got nothing on Jordan. Honestly, she outshines us all.

  “Alright.” Jordan steps back, keeping her eyes on me as she does. “But find me if you need me?”

  “Of course.” I wave her along, marveling at her ability to walk backwards without tripping over the midnight blue fabric flowing around her feet. My smile falters, and I feel like I’m having a moment of déjà vu.

  I quickly fix my expression before Jordan notices and misreads it. “Have fun!” I force as much fake enthusiasm I can manage behind the two words. I really don’t want to be the reason Jordan doesn’t have a good time. It’s not her fault I’m awkwardly antisocial.

  After another lingering look, Jordan finally turns around and joins in the festivities. I watch her walk straight to Trish’s group, and I grin when I see the Fae’s attention immediately shift and remain on my friend.

  “Saw that one coming, did you?”

  I spin and almost lose my balance as I see one of the two Fae has closed the distance between us. His friend is nowhere to be seen. I take in his formal tuxedo and guess he’s a noble. After our run, Camden had hinted only honored soldiers and nobles were invited to the contestant’s banquet.

  I place a hand on the corner of the dessert table and regain my balance.

  When I don’t reply, the stranger fills the silence, “Might I have your name?”

  “Sera.”

  Unfortunately, my shortness doesn’t have the desired effect.

  “What a lovely name.” He leans closer. “I’m Lord Oslo. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He extends a hand, and I have no choice but to return the gesture. I place my hand in his. Lord Oslo promptly leans over and presses his lips against my knuckles. An involuntary shiver courses through my arm. The gleam in his eye tells me he noticed.

  “Nice to meet you.” I pull my hand back the moment his fingers loosen. I want my solitude to return, but Lord Oslo doesn’t look like he plans to walk away anytime soon.

  My suspicion is proven correct when he continues, “You are a contestant for the queen, are you not?”

  Obviously. The only other humans here are the servants, and I’m clearly overdressed for that job.

  “Yes.” Again, I keep my reply short. I’m giving off all kinds of vibes I want to be left alone. One-word answers coupled with my rigid body language would tell anyone with eyes and ears that I’m not interested in making small talk with Lord Oslo. Either he’s so full of himself that it hasn’t even registered someone might not want to spend their evening talking to him, or he notices and simply doesn’t care. I’m stuck either way.

  “Tell me, what are your strengths?”

  I frown, and curiosity has me asking, “My strengths?”

  “Yes. You know, are you athletic? Strong? Good with a sword? What are your strengths? My companions and I like to wager on the contest’s outcome. Are you a good bet to win?”

  I have no idea. I don’t know what the contest is even like!

  A new voice joins our conversation, sharing the same thought, “The contestants haven’t been informed of the finer details yet, Lord Oslo.”

  Prince Camden has arrived. I turn my body so the three of us form a slight curve and I’m able to see each of the Fae without moving my neck.

  Camden is dressed in an expensive tuxedo. A deep green tie is tucked under the jacket. One button is fashionably undone, making him look like he just stepped off the runway at New York Fashion Week.

  “Your Highness.” Lord Oslo lowers his head in a respectful greeting. “Forgive my forgetfulness. Of course, the young ladies haven’t been briefed on the contest.” He gives me a wink. “The moment they are, I will return for your answer, Miss Sera.”

  To my mortification, I blush.

  Seriously, I need to get a grip. I can’t go around shivering and blushing all the time. It sends the wrong message.

  “Would you excuse us, Lord Oslo. There’s a matter I need to discuss with the contestant.” Camden steps forward and holds out an elbow. I wrap my hand around him almost immediately. I bristle at being called “the contestant” but quickly acknowledge I’d rather he act as if we are strangers. Especially in a room full of curious stares and potentially jealous contestants.

  “Of course, Your Highness.” Lord Oslo dips his head again, then disappears into the crowded ballroom, shooting me another wink as he goes. I watch him approach the group Jordan’s in. Everyone around is laughing, even Trish and her minions are smiling. For a split second, I wish I could allow myself to feel some sort of happiness about the banquet. Who knows the next time I’ll be given something to smile about?

  To my horror, Camden guides me away from the dessert table. He’s careful to stay along the edge of the crowd, but that doesn’t keep us from being noticed.

  “Lord Oslo likes you.” Camden keeps his gaze forward, seeming unaware of the attention we’re receiving.

  I’m taken aback by the statement. “No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know me.”

  “Do you believe one has to know someone before they can like them?”

  Um… duh.

  “In the way you’re implying, yes.” I shake my head. “Thinking I’m pretty is not the same as liking me.” I’m not unaware I have decent looks, and the gown Mistress Jinny created for me makes me look even more attractive. I’d been worried for nothing. The smooth red fabric doesn’t contrast horribly with my hair. In fact, the deep hue accentuates my smooth, pale skin and brings out the color of my kohl-lined eyes. The human makeup artist sent to the barracks really knew how to handle cosmetics. Each of us girls have our best features enhanced by her skill, as well as the talents of the seamstresses.

  “The lord called you pretty?”

  Does Camden’s voice harden?

  “No, not really. But he wouldn’t speak with me otherwise. None of the Fae would show any interest in us if we weren’t attractive. Speaking of which, why are we all attractive? And why are we all redheads?” The questions spill out of my mouth like an overflowing glass of water.

  If the prince is bothered by my questions, he doesn’t show it. I’m pleasantly surprised when he replies, “The queen’s orb selects candidates for her contest. I cannot tell you why all of you share the same hair color this time around, but humans brought to Seelie are always attractive. We’re a vain species, and we like our subordinates to be pleasing to the eye,” he mutters with nothing short of disdain. He doesn’t approve of his people’s treatment of humans. My hope he becomes the future ruler grows. I can’t help but think he would be a far better than the currently absent queen.

  “You said ‘this time around’,” I repeat his words, and realize I never asked for more information earlier during our run. “How many contests have there been exactly?” If the answer constitutes the sort of information which may disqualify me from the contest, I trust Camden will not tell me.

  Camden has led us to the base of the grand staircase positioned in the middle of the room. Despite its central location, most of the banquet’s guests are spread out closer to the open windows, taking in the fresh air. That, or they position themselves close to the elegant candelabras anchored to surrounding walls, using their light to better see those around them. The closest Fae stands at least ten feet away. If we speak quietly, I believe the room’s noise will keep us from being overheard.

  The prince lowers his arm, folding his hands behind the small of his back. His jaw clenches, and I know I’m not going to like what he says. “The queen has sponsored six contests. This will be the second this sun cycle.”

  Six?

  And the second one this year?

  “Why do I get the feeling there’s something big you aren’t telling me?” Aside from what the heck the contest is for, of course.

  Camden inhales a deep, purposeful breath. His eyes never leave mine. I think he’s going to finally tell me something important—something t
hat will help me understand why I’ve been dragged to Seelie and into this contest in the first place.

  His lips part, and I brace myself for what is to come.

  A gong sounds, interrupting the banquet’s chatter, and silencing Camden before he has the chance to speak.

  “All hail her Majesty, Queen Aria of Seelie,” a guard bellows from the top of the grand staircase. He holds a gilded staff, adorned with intricate vines and blooming flowers. “And her honored guest, King Sebastian of the Unseelie.”

  There is a beat of silence before loud gasps and fevered whispers float into the air. I don’t know what’s caused the stir.

  I look to Camden for an explanation, but he seems just as shocked as everyone else.

  That’s when I feel it. My pulse begins to race, and my heart flutters in my chest. I can’t explain the feeling of contentment mixed with exhilaration. It’s an autonomic reaction. To what stimulus? I have no idea.

  My eyes are drawn toward the top of the grand staircase. An absolutely stunning woman gazes down at the room. Her presence fills me with awe. She radiates power and confidence. Throw in her otherworldly beauty and she’s a formidable presence. But she’s not the one who captures and holds my attention.

  On the queen’s arm stands a man with hair the color of the darkest of the night skies. I don’t care what I’ve said before: this is the most attractive male I’ve ever laid eyes on. A deep blue tuxedo jacket covers his broad chest, tapering at a strong, narrow waist. Mischief gleams in his eyes as he surveys the crowd, looking like the cat who ate the canary. I realize he is the cause of the crowd’s stir.

  When his violet irises land on me, everything in the room fades away. All that remains is me and him, locked in a silent stare, experiencing feelings of recognition and undeniable attraction.

  My heart skips a beat and, I swear, my soul sings in recognition.

  Who IS this guy?

  13

  I don’t know how long I remain there, gawking at the absurdly gorgeous male at the queen’s side. It isn’t until he breaks away that my brain manages to function enough to identify him as the Unseelie king. The rest of the room comes back into focus, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes off of him. It’s like he’s a piece of metal, and my eyes are magnets, attracted to him by an invisible force.

  While I remain mesmerized by the mere sight of him, the dark king’s attention has moved on. He and the Seelie queen survey the crowd, and a pain stabs my chest as I consider they might be a couple. I know the queen still has a husband, but he’s been sick. Would anyone really blame her if she found comfort in another? I don’t know how Fae view the sanctity of marriage in such a situation.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Camden bend at his wait, bowing towards the royals. I quickly dip into the curtsy Patricia had spent the better part of yesterday afternoon teaching me and Jordan. I don’t need to look to know the rest of the room is also bent into the honoring positions. The room’s occupants are silent. I barely hear breathing. The only noise comes from the queen’s heels as she descends the stairs.

  As instructed, I keep my forehead tilted down, and my eyes are trained on the marble in front of my feet. No one will look up until the queen addresses the crowd. My legs protest the wait in the heels, but I don’t dare break protocol by standing. Patricia hadn’t explicitly stated the punishment for such a crime, but I’d gathered it was severe enough to warrant the fearful expression in the young seamstress’ face.

  The queen and king reach the ground floor. I take a steadying breath, and the smell of violets and sandalwood fill my nostrils. My heart continues to beat senselessly, and I don’t know how I can get the organ under control. I’m not entirely sure what’s causing its outrageous reactions in the first place. I can’t honestly be this affected by the sight of the Unseelie king. That’s absurd.

  Right?

  My skin tingles, and I feel as if his impressive gaze is upon me.

  No doubt, I’m imagining it. I need to get ahold of myself. And fast.

  “Please, everyone. You are too kind. Rise,” the queen’s heavenly voice travels across the room. It’s a musical sound, and I find myself yearning to hear it again. I snap out of the haze just before I sway forward and try to get closer to the source of the entrancing sound.

  On cue, I lift my head, as do all of the others in the ballroom. I wonder if the Seelie queen has enthralling magic. What else explains how her voice affects me?

  My attention drifts back to the Fae in question, and my eyes widen. The queen is even more stunning up close. Her flawless, light complexion is accentuated by a lovely gown. The sleek green fabric hugs every feminine curve I lack. Honey-colored hair is curled and pinned into a stunning updo, adorned with a pearl and diamond encrusted silver tiara. The queen is the most beautiful female, human or Fae, by far.

  With another sharp stab in my chest, I acknowledge she and the Unseelie king go together like a hand in a glove.

  Though she holds onto the king, the queen leads the pair as she walks toward the banister where I stand. I dip my chin and begin to step back, but I’m stopped when Camden places a firm hand against my spine.

  I shoot him a curious glance. He doesn’t look my way.

  Then, the queen and king arrive in front of us.

  I gulp, not sure what to do. Do I look Queen Aria in the face? Or is that disrespectful? Do I curtsy again? Or is that over the top?

  “Your Majesty,” the queen’s melodic voice sounds again, but I’m prepared. It doesn’t ensnare me like before. “You remember my dear nephew, Prince Camden of Meadowbrook.”

  “Indeed.” The Unseelie King’s deep vibrato sends pleasant tingles skittering across my skin. Seriously, what is with these royals’ voices? “It is a pleasure to see you in Seelie Court, Prince Camden. My spies tell me you are not fond of life within these castle walls.”

  Is that a dig?

  Turning my head slowly, as to not draw too much attention, I observe Camden. His expression is carefully neutral.

  “The honor is all mine, King Sebastian. How kind of you to attend my aunt’s celebration.” He doesn’t respond to the castle comment.

  There is no denying it. Camden’s terse reply reveals he and the Unseelie king are not friends. I need to be careful. Though King Sebastian is nice to look at, I can’t ignore there is a dangerous quality to his cunning, violet eyes. He reminds me of a Venus flytrap. The carnivorous flower’s beauty is also attractive, but insects caught in its snare are unable to escape their fate.

  “Her invitation was received with nothing short of enthusiasm,” the king replies. “I’m glad to have been included in the… celebration, as you say.”

  To my horror, the king’s attention shifts to me. Frantic, I swing my eyes to look at the queen, only to be as equally unnerved to see she is, also, watching me.

  Crap.

  “Nephew,” her lips curl into a calculating smile, “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your companion?”

  “Of course. Queen Aria, allow me to introduce Serafina Roberts. She is one of your contestants,” he adds the last part unnecessarily.

  I wait for the queen to address me.

  She doesn’t.

  The queen observes me like an animal in a zoo enclosure. “I hear this one is a favorite of yours.”

  The fingers pressed against my back flex. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to tell Camden is affected by the question. “I have no favorites.”

  “Really?” The queen tilts her head, continuing to observe me with eerie diligence. “Do you send your Head Guard to check on all of my contestants?”

  Camden remains silent, and the queen takes that as an admission.

  “Yes, it is true. I have my spies, too.” Queen Aria chuckles. King Sebastian joins in.

  I must’ve missed the joke.

  “Do not look so serious, nephew,” she finally frees me from her scrutiny and gazes at Camden with what looks like false affection, “You know how I like to tease you. I can see why you li
ke this one. She is particularly pretty, and there is something… different about her.”

  The way she says different doesn’t sound like a good thing.

  “Sera only recently arrived in Seelie. You gave me permission to modify each contestant’s training as I see fit. Frederick has helped ensure she is given equal chance of survival in this contest.”

  My heart threatens to stop beating with the reminder I might really die during this contest.

  “Yes, yes.” Queen Aria waves a hand, bored of the conversation, not bothered by the fact her mysterious contest might result in the death of many innocent young women. “I am aware of our tedious agreement. Let’s change the subject, shall we?”

  Camden lowers his head, then resumes meeting her eye. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  “Since you seem so invested in our contestants, why don’t you take me around the room and introduce me to each one? I’d love to put names to faces I do not yet know.”

  Camden steps away from me. “I’d be happy to.” His tone says that’s not true.

  The queen removes herself from King Sebastian and latches onto her nephew. “Would you like to join us, Your Majesty?” She bats her eyes in blatant flirtation.

  “Perhaps later,” the king replies. “I would like a moment to take in the splendor of your remarkable banquet before I resign myself to tedious introductions with humans.”

  Again, the queen and king share a laugh. And, again, I don’t find anything funny.

  Camden and his aunt walk away. I’m relieved. Now, I need to find another safe space away from the scrutiny of the crowd. A glance at the dessert table reveals it’s no longer the haven it once was.

  “Accompany me while I make a turn about the room.”

  It takes me a delayed second to realize King Sebastian is speaking to me.

  My skin prickles in anticipation. Still, I ask, “Excuse me?”

  Violet eyes shine with humor, but his lips twist into a displeased frown. “Walk with me.” He holds out his arm. “It does not serve for me to walk alone. Too many females will flock to me, trying to be the one at my side.”