by K. M. Shea
“Yeah, good luck with that,” I said. “But there’s no way I’m letting you take these guys back.”
Suits turned to me, the smooth skin of his forehead marred with a wrinkle of confusion. “What do you mean?”
I gestured to the horses around me. “They’re skeletal thin and in horrible condition.”
“Nonsense. It is merely that they have taken on the state of the Court,” the older fae woman said. “As the Night Court is unwell, so are the creatures embraced in its bosom.”
“Yeah, no. This is what happens when you don’t feed them,” I said. “And you can bet the Curia Cloisters are going to hear all about it. Until then, they stay with me.”
The fae woman sniffed. “Empty threats. Guards—prepare for our departure.”
A guard turned back to the fence and raised his sword at my poor fence again.
“Don’t you dare!” I snarled.
The guard froze mid-swing.
I suspiciously glared at him, but relaxed when he didn’t move.
“What are you waiting for?” the older fae woman demanded.
“I…can’t,” the guard slowly ground out.
Suits and the older fae swung around and stared at me, varying degrees of horror and terror flickering across their expressions.
“No, no it can’t be possible.” The older fae shook her head as she stared at the night mares. “They haven’t bound a monarch in a century. They couldn’t possibly bind us to you. It would send the Night Court on a path of destruction!”
Suits tugged on his tie, losing some of his prim-and-proper-edge. “They chose. We’re not needed—we can’t do anything. She’s already bound!”
I rolled my eyes at their theatrics—blissfully ignorant, or I probably would have been rolling around on the ground.
I wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with fae. Since I was an Unpledged half fae there was always a chance one of the fae would decide I had to join them—and because the Courts have absolute jurisdiction over all fae, half or otherwise, it would have been hard to fight.
But I knew very little about the Night Court. My bio father was from the Night Court, and given how he had abruptly divorced my mom when I was a toddler, I didn’t have a burning desire to get to know his Court.
The fae moaned for a few moments as my irritation grew.
“That’s enough,” I said, using the same, firm, no-nonsense voice I used when I was working with the Drakes’ dogs. “You either explain, or you leave here knowing that you are never getting these horses back.”
The older fae turned her attention to me, her anger making her expression cruel. “They chose you. How could they have chosen you? It was supposed to be Lady Chrysanthe—or someone proud and noble. Not a half human!”
“Get off this property, now,” I ordered. “I don’t want to see you again.”
“We can’t leave you,” Suits pleaded.
“And why is that?”
“Because you’re our new queen!”
“Though you don’t deserve it, human,” the woman growled.
That’s it. I’m done.
I turned to the barn and stalked in its direction.
Ever since the spiders I’d taken to leaving at least two cans of wasp spray. I climbed over the fence, found them, and stalked my way back to the rude fae.
The guards, surprisingly, stumbled back a few steps.
“Wait, give us a chance to explain, Queen,” Suits begged. “You need to come with us.”
“Hard pass.” I popped the lids off the spray cans. “And don’t call me that.”
“It’s not a matter for you to decide.” The older fae scowled. “We don’t want you either. But it’s out of our hands since you somehow courted favor with the night mares. You have no choice but to go with us to the Night Court.”
Suits grabbed me by the wrist and tried to pull me across the pasture, but he severely underestimated the strength of a farm girl.
I dug my heels in, ripped my wrist from his grasp, and slammed him in the side of the head with one of the cans of wasp spray.
He toppled like a tree, groaning as he held his head.
I guess for all of their manipulations, fae don’t fight dirty.
I raised the spray can I hadn’t whacked on a fae skull. “Whoever tries that next is going to get a face full of wasp poison.”
Suits slowly stood up and held his hands out. “We don’t intend to harm you,” he said in a classic case of fae wordsmithing.
He could have just said they won’t harm me, but there was a good chance that was a lie, so he used the word intend instead.
“That’s not good enough,” I said.
The old lady glared at me. “You are a viper,” she said. “Our Court will eat you alive!”
“Lady Demetria, this is not an appropriate time,” Suits muttered. “Guards, if you would escort our new queen to the car, we must take her—”
“Oh, you must?” asked a sweet, clear, feminine voice.
Suits turned around—probably thinking to tell off the interrupter—but clamped his jaw shut when he saw who it was.
A male vampire—lethal with dark hair and eyes such a dark shade of red they were almost black—was cradling a petite blond who was just a little older than me.
She held a ball of crackling electricity in her hand, making her black wizard mark appear. The swirls of her mark crawled up the side of her face and down her neck.
The exact same mark appeared on the vampire’s skin, telling the fae who they were dealing with.
Even if they had never seen this famous couple—unlikely, considering the Night Court’s dodgy history with them—there was only one vampire/wizard pair in the Midwest: Killian Drake—Eminent of the Midwest Vampires—and Hazel Medeis—Adept of the wizards of House Medeis.
The tension and fear that had been building in my gut left me with one great whoosh. “Thanks for coming.”
“Absolutely.” Hazel wriggled until Killian let her go, but even when she landed she didn’t release her fizzing magic.
“It’s the neighborly thing to do,” Killian said.
“Neighbor?” the older fae, Lady Demetria, apparently, croaked.
Killian raised an eyebrow. “Did you really come here to terrorize Leila, not knowing this land is next door to Drake Hall?”
The wobble in Suits’s knees said they hadn’t known at all.
“Now, let’s get something straight,” Hazel said. “You’re going to explain what you’re doing here and why you’re manhandling our friend in the most unembellished way possible. Understood?” Her ball of magic stretched out, forming a sword made of magic.
Killian almost lazily withdrew a pistol from his suitcoat jacket, turning off the safety and wracking the top of the gun, loading a bullet. Behind him, at least a dozen vampires—all dressed in black suits and every last one of them carrying a bare blade or a gun—lingered around the fae’s cars.
Suits cleared his throat. “Understood.” He glanced at Lady Demetria, but she was petrified and unable to do more than quiver. Reluctantly, Suits faced me. “Er, it is as we started to say—you’re our new queen. The Queen of the Night Court.”
“How?” I asked.
Suits gestured to the night mares. “After a monarch and their partner die, the night mares are released to search through all members of the Night Court and find the next ruler.”
“It’s not inherited by children?” Hazel asked.
“No.” Suits deeply bowed to Hazel after quaking under Killian’s red eyes. “In each new cycle, the night mares choose the next ruler. That ruler chooses their spouse, who may co-rule if allowed, and otherwise will rule if the monarch passes away before them. Their children do not inherit the title. Each time a royal couple dies, the cycle starts anew and the night mares find the next monarch.”
“There are a few problems with that.” I held up a finger as I started my list. “First of all, I’m not a member of the Night Court. I’m Unpledged. Secondly, as I said earlier, I
’m half human. I don’t ever recall a half human half fae ruler—in any Court.”
“One does not strictly have to belong to the Night Court to be considered a candidate.” Suits nervously eyed Eclipse as she pawed at the ground and gnashed her teeth together. “As long as you have blood from the Night Court, it’s allowable. As for you being half fae…”
Comet snorted and reared up.
Suits flinched. “It seems it does not matter,” he said lamely.
“Yeah, there’s a third problem. I don’t want to be your queen.” I wriggled three fingers at him for emphasis.
Suits studied the ground with great care.
“Did you not hear her?” Killian asked with a dangerously pleasant voice.
“It’s just…I’m not…it’s not…” Suits gulped, then bent over in a bow to Killian. “She’s already our queen.”
Chapter Five
Leila
No. No way. I dreamed of being a Responsible Adult—not a flippin’ queen!
“That’s impossible,” I said, my voice hardening fast. “You can’t just arbitrarily decide to make me your queen without giving me any say!”
“It’s the night mares,” Suits insisted. “They bound you…” He trailed off when Blue Moon snorted and pawed at the ground.
“Is the Paragon aware of your little expedition?” Killian asked.
The Paragon was the most powerful fae in all of America. He didn’t belong to a specific Court, and he was considered the national representative for all fae. Recently, he’d been hanging around in the Midwest.
“Ahh, to an extent,” Suits said. “It was he who finally corralled the night mares, so we could prepare them to choose the next monarch. He is aware we would soon be conducting the search, but we did not specifically inform him that the night mares had found a candidate and we were coming to find her.”
“Call him,” Killian ordered in a tone that offered no alternative.
“Ahh, yes. Yes, we should.” Suits frantically patted his suitcoat, eventually finding his cellphone. He tried to smile at us as he fumbled, searching through his contacts list. Eventually he dialed the right number, and I could hear the ringing noise that signaled he was making a call. He nervously switched the phone from one hand to the other, then brightened when the call connected. “Ah, yes! Greetings, Paragon—”
“The number you are trying to call is not available,” a tinny, female voice recited. “Please try again at another time.”
Suits ended the call with a swipe and laughed nervously. “It seems he is not answering his phone at this time.”
Hazel looked expectantly up at Killian.
“What?” he said.
“You try calling him.”
Killian’s eyebrow twitched. “You’re joking.”
“It’s for Leila.”
“He’ll never shut up about it.”
“It’s for Leila,” Hazel repeated. “She helped me when I needed it. You can put up with a clingy friend on her behalf.”
I’d never interacted much with Killian—even though I considered the Drakes to be great neighbors. I mostly saw his First and Second Knights, who were his second and third in command. But I’d heard enough rumors that even I was impressed with Hazel when Killian narrowed his eyes and got out his cellphone.
When he dialed, the phone rang once before it clicked, picking up.
“Killian! Such a pleasure to finally hear from you, bestie. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten how to use a phone in your dotage. How are you? Did you have a fight with Hazel? Is that why you’re calling me? I am something of a romantic consultant you know.” The speaker blared so loudly Killian actually held it back, away from his ear.
“If I had a fight with Hazel you’d be the last person I’d call,” Killian said.
“You said you wouldn’t call me ever, too, and yet here we are! What did you do? Did you insult her House again? It’s not wise to insult sentient magical houses.”
Killian closed his eyes, resembling a parent counting backwards to keep their temper. “I’m calling because I’m standing on my neighbor’s lawn, staring down a few psychotic fae who are claiming she’s their queen.”
“It sounds like a cult,” Hazel shouted at the phone.
“I thought so too!” I said.
“What Court are the fae from?”
“Night Court,” Killian said.
“Ew,” the Paragon said. “Omw.”
“What does that even mean—Paragon?” When his screen flashed, showing that the call had been disconnected, Killian wordlessly squeezed the phone, making its plastic case creak alarmingly.
Hazel gave me one of her sunny smiles. “The Paragon is on his way. Once he’s here he can smooth everything out, I’m sure.”
Suits exhaled in relief. “Yes, good. The Paragon can explain things.” He actually offered me a slight nod and an even slighter smile.
I didn’t like that—any sign of relief from these crazies was a bad thing for me.
Suits straightened his jacket, regaining his confidence with every passing moment. “We can escort you and the night mares to the Night Court estate and—”
“That’s not happening,” I interrupted. “I’ll tell the Paragon I have no desire to be queen, and you can be off on your merry way.”
Suits uneasily glanced at the night mares.
“If only it could be so,” Lady Demetria grumbled.
Unfortunately, it was then that my mom pulled into the driveway.
She stopped the car, and I could see her eyes flick from the cars—fancy-dress-fae-lady was still inside the car, looking petrified as a few of the vampires had taken it upon themselves to circle and stand on top of the car she was hidden in—to the well-dressed vampires, to the fae standing in the pasture with me.
I scratched the back of my neck as I tried to figure out what I should say, but to my surprise she leaned back in her seat as if the display pained her, parked her car, then got out with a shaky smile.
“Is something wrong, Leila?” she asked.
“Yeah, there’s been a huge mix-up,” I said. “But Hazel and Killian are helping me figure things out.”
“There is no mix-up,” Suits said—he was starting to be a big pain. “You are our queen.”
I scowled. “Could you please stop saying that!”
My mom clutched the shoulder strap of her massive purse. “I’ll go get Paul.” She disappeared around the corner of the house—heading for Dad’s woodshop.
Seconds later, a black SUV with tinted windows pulled into the driveway, rolling to a stop just behind the fae’s cars.
A back passenger door popped open, and an old man hopped out with a shocking amount of spryness.
The Paragon was the epitome of how a human would describe an elderly, aged fae. He had long, silvery white hair, a white mustache that drooped past his chin, spectacles with thin wire frames, and always wore a variation of silk robes. Today’s robes were in muted forest green colors and were embroidered with gold leaves.
Since he was sort of my representative, I’d made sure to research him when I was first formulating my plan of surviving in the human world as a half fae.
He had a reputation for being remarkably good humored for a fae, and his short patience for his own people was legendary, which meant I loved reading about him.
The Paragon put his fists on his hips and beamed up at the cloudy sky. “What a fine day, is it not, Hazel, Killian?”
“It is,” Hazel agreed. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course!” The Paragon paraded across the yard. When he reached the fence, he yanked his robes up—revealing knobby knees and skinny legs—and casually hopped over the fence despite his aged appearance. “It is always my pleasure to come to the rescue of my dearest friends!”
A wrinkle sliced across Killian’s forehead. “Why did you arrive in one of my cars?”
“The fastest way here was to use my gate to your house,” the Paragon said. “And though I will do muc
h for you, I will not walk over here in this heat. One of your vampires agreed to drive me, and a delightful House Medeis wizard kept me entertained on the drive over.”
“You have a gate that drops you on my property?” Ice formed at the edge of Killian’s words.
The Paragon huffed. “Of course! Do you know what kind of a drive it is from Magiford out here? Annoying, that’s what it is. I don’t wish to waste my time! I invested in making a gate so I can pop over whenever I want.”
“That’s a great idea!” Hazel said.
“No, it is not,” Killian growled.
Hazel pressed her lips together in thought. “Really? Because I think—”
“The Paragon is here for your friend, is he not?” Killian said.
“Oh, that’s right.” Hazel grimaced, then came to stand by me.
I was pretty tall for even a half fae, but I felt like a sky scraper as Hazel—a particularly petite wizard—didn’t even come up to my shoulder. “Paragon,” she began, glancing curiously at one of the fae horses. Eclipse and the others had backed off a little, giving us space, but they stayed clustered around us. “This is our neighbor Leila—she helped me the day I took back my House from Mason and is a good friend of mine. These weird cultist fae are bothering her.”
“We are not from a cult!” Lady Demetria said.
“Wise and glorious Paragon.” Suits, busting out his best manners for the occasion, bowed deeply to the Paragon. “We have found our new queen.”
“And she’s not cooperating,” Lady Demetria added.
“Because I can’t be the next Night Court ruler,” I said. “I’m a human.”
“Half human, half fae,” Suits corrected—as if he was the expert on everything me.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “I don’t want to be your queen.”
“The night mares chose you?” the Paragon asked.
“They bound her,” Lady Demetria interrupted and thrust her finger at me. “Her! A half fae!”
“You keep saying they bound me, and I still have no idea what you mean,” I said.
“Ah,” the Paragon said.
I turned to him, my spine stiffening with dread. “What?”