by Terah Edun
Cecily was still staring at her brother, who was approaching the passenger’s side door.
“Cecily?”
“What? Oh...uh...no,” Cecily said as she pulled down the middle seat and scrambled into the back. Katherine slid into the driver’s seat and pushed the middle seat up. Ethan got in her on right. Fire Marshal Ford got in and cranked the engine on her left. For five minutes there was silence as they slowly backed out of view of the waterfall and the car turned around to get back on the road.
“Ethan Walker,” said Cecily, “what in the world were you doing out there with the fae?”
Ethan sighed. “I live with them, Cecily.”
“What?” his sister said, astonished. “Since when?”
“Since your bitch of a mother, my foster mother, kicked me out,” he said. “I had nowhere else to go. No job until two months ago, and no one would rent a place to stay to an underage kid with barely a hundred bucks to his name.”
“You could have stayed with us,” said Katherine tightly.
Ethan laughed grimly. “Oh yeah, that would go over so well with your mother. The queen hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” said Katherine tightly. “She just doesn’t—”
“Like me?” finished Ethan.
Katherine crossed her arm and looked to the left across Fire Marshal Ford and out the driver’s side window.
“So what now?” she asked. “You’re spying for the fae?”
“I serve the king on a few select missions in exchange for room and safety among the faerie,” said Ethan with a hollow ring in his voice. “Out of all of the things he’s asked me to do, this actually isn’t so bad.”
Cecily sat forward from the backseat. “Did you even see the human representative? Or was that just a lie?”
Ethan twisted around in his seat and his arm brushed Katherine’s as he did so. She felt a pleasant tinge of heat, but she forced it down ruthlessly. Ethan was the enemy...and a douche.
Ethan said gripped his foster sister’s hand and said to her, “I wouldn’t lie to you, Cecily. I did what I could to help you out. Informing you where the king was most likely to be. Even I didn’t know. He made his mind up at the last minute.”
“Oh,” said his foster sister softly.
Katherine snorted in disgust. “Don’t be so quick to forgive him, Cecily. He’s hiding more than he’s telling. I can feel it.”
Ethan turned to her. “You’re a precognitive now, Katherine?”
The question was said so derisively that she almost slapped him. Instead she asked, “So what’s up with the ring of power in your eye? Don’t tell me you’re faerie, as well?”
“Do you see wings on my back?”
“There are all kinds of fae,” Katherine shot back.
“Well, there’s your answer,” said Ethan tiredly. “You know, Katherine, if you asked the right questions, maybe I wouldn’t do so much hiding.”
“The right questions?” repeated Katherine while turning to him with fire in her eyes. “Here’s a question. Why are you such an asshole?”
“All right, enough,” snapped Fire Marshal Ford. “You two sit back and please stop bickering. You, boy, is it Ethan or is it Nestor?”
Ethan said stiffly, “It’s both, sir. My full name is Ethan Nestor.”
“Ethan it is, then,” said the fire marshal. “Now, we need to get that antidote, but first we need to know what’s in the moon nectar that’s causing this disease-like reaction.”
Cecily piped up from the backseat. “Then we’d better go to the shop. I have everything there to study it.”
“Not a bio lab?” asked Katherine curiously.
“No time,” said Cecily while fiddling with her phone. “Human containment rules would put it in isolation for at least twenty-four hours. We have less than half of that to find the source and the cure.”
“Right,” said Katherine.
“Ethan, you’re not going to have anys problem with that, are you?” said the fire marshal in a serious tone.
Katherine tensed.
“No, sir,” replied Ethan. “I’m only here to report on your activity. Not to hinder your investigation. For real. If you can find out what’s causing this wasting sickness among the fae, you’d be doing the king a huge favor.”
Her shoulders relaxed but she still felt tense. Not because of Ethan, but because the weight of this task was on her. She had to find the cure, or her mother’s throne would be in peril.
Cecily gripped Katherine’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’ll get this done.”
“I hope so,” Katherine whispered back to her.
Then she turned to the fire marshal firmly and said, “So we’re heading to the shop, then?”
He nodded. “We’ll stop there to see what we can find out.”
Katherine heard a catch in his voice.
“Where you planning to go somewhere else?” she asked.
She noted the fire marshal’s knuckles whiten as he tightened a hand on the steering wheel. “I’m afraid there might be some truth to the faerie king’s claims of were-peacock involvement. They’ve been secretive about recent shipments into town. I think it’s time we find out what they had coming in on those late night trucks.”
Katherine and Ethan exchanged glances involuntarily.
“Ethan needs to stay with the moon nectar,” Katherine volunteered. “So why don’t you and I check out the were-peacocks?”
The fire marshal nodded. “We’ll drop these two off first.”
They were back at the shop in half an hour flat. They’d burned through a few red lights to do it and turned a few corners that made Katherine think she was going to die at the base of a cliff, but they made it. Turning to Cecily, Katherine reached over the seat to give her the vial. “We’ll be back in an hour no matter what.”
Cecily nodded and got out through the back door. Ethan followed her into the darkness as she opened the shop’s front door.
Katherine leaned over to grab the open door as she scooted to take Ethan’s spot. As she was swinging the door closed, Ethan caught the door in a firm grip.
She looked over at him, startled.
Expressions warred on his face. But fear won out.
“Be careful out there,” Ethan said. “They may be were-peacocks, but they fight dirty.”
She nodded, unsure what else to say.
He let go of the door and she slammed it closed.
The fire marshal put their car into gear and headed off into the night. They hadn’t even gone five miles before his radio beeped. He picked it up and said, “This is Fire Marshal Ford, who’s on this line?”
“The queen wishes to speak with her daughter,” said a male voice.
“Transferring,” Fire Marshal Ford said.
He touched a button on his radio to halt the conversation and turned the knob on the handheld radio sitting on the dashboard.
To Katherine he said, “It’s live.”
She picked up the handheld and pressed the button down. “Hey, Mom.”
“Katherine,” said the queen’s voice in relief. “Where are you?”
“En route to the were-peacock mansion, Mom,” she said. “Did you hear what Ceidian wanted?”
“No,” said the queen, “but I’m afraid I know why he wants it.”
“What do you mean?” asked Katherine.
“Tell Fire Marshall Ford to bring you home,” the queen implored. “I’ve already sent a team for Cecily at the shop.”
“How did you know?” said Katherine.
“I called her,” the stressed and tired queen pointed out, “but that’s not important now. We have the antidote for the fae.”
“Shouldn’t we take it directly to Ceidian, then?”
“No, and I’ll explain why when you come home.”
“Right, okay,” said Katherine as she watched the fire marshal turn the truck around in one smooth move.
“And honey?” said her mother.
“Yes?”
“Rose is laid out for her ritual,” said her mother with sorrow in her voice. “I thought you should know before you walked into the house.”
Katherine was glad her mother had told her. As the fire marshal made a quick left turn to take them up a side street and over to the queen’s house, her mind flashed back to the last time she’d seen a coven member put to rest. It had been her father almost ten years ago. She didn’t remember the ceremony all that well, but she did remember the smells. The room had been filled with blooming flowers in the traditional of their coven’s burial style. She knew from lessons that only close family members had attended the ritual and the ceremony always started at the witch or warlock’s home. She didn’t think Aunt Sarah had been there...and Cecily had been too young. Which left Rose and Katherine to comfort their grieving mother. Except for a woman with hair as a light as a field of flaxen wheat. Katherine didn’t remembered who she was. Just the impression of gravity that emanated from her. She’d never seen that woman again, and she didn’t have the heart to ask her mother who she was. Their father had been the love of her life and now she was laying to rest her oldest child in the same home. It would be too much for some people. But not for a queen, not for her mother. She would get through this. Katherine would make sure of it. If it was last thing she did, she would see her mother through the burial and the trials that seemed to piling one on top of the other like the ravens of old legend, spiritual birds that brought warnings of foreboding times.
“Well, it can’t get much worse than your daughter dying,” Katherine said darkly, “so bring it on. I will handle it.”
“What was that?” the fire marshal said sharply.
“I said that whatever happens I will handle it,” Katherine said while looking over at him with a glint in her eye. “It will be handled it. Everything will be all right. My mother will be fine.”
Katherine wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince more, herself or the fire marshal. Thankfully he didn’t say anything else as they pulled off the main street and toward the lonely road that led to her home. Soon they turned onto the same driveway that she had peeled out of at top speed just a few hours ago, and her mind drifted back to the upcoming ceremony. The final ceremony for her sister. So vibrant in life and so very silent in death.
Katherine knew, as all cove members knew, that they had to lay to rest Rose’s spirit before laying to rest her body. Which meant that Rose’s recovered remains were currently laid out somewhere in the house. If she had died of natural causes Katherine would have assumed she was in her bed. But she didn’t know. How could she know? Her stomach roiled as she thought about it. About something marring Rose’s perfect face, about scratches from plane shrapnel on her arms, about torn flesh on Rose’s chest.
Then she shook her head firmly and told herself, It’s not true. None of it. Rose is dead, yes. But her body is fine. It will be sanctified and I’m going to say goodbye.
Katherine closed her eyes in grief as she said, “I guess I’ll be able to see her put to rest after all.”
She just hoped she was ready to say goodbye.
“Yes, you will,” said the queen.
“We should be there in ten minutes, Mother.”
“I’ll see you then.” The radio went silent.
They pulled up to the front of the queen’s gates to see one guard at the entrance. He peered into their car and waved them on through. As they piled out of the truck, Katherine noticed a curious thing: a total lack of guardians except one at the gate and two in the house. She felt unease and rushed up the steps. Where was her mother’s protection team?
Opening the door with a shout that she couldn’t help, Katherine called out, “Mom!”
“I’m here,” answered the queen almost immediately. Her voice was coming from the formal dining room. Katherine turned to the right and swiftly covered the distance.
She walked through the French doors to see her mother seated at the table with her aunt at her right hand and a very unusual guest seated on top of the table. Literally crouching with plumed feathers spread and beady eyes focused on her entrance was someone she’d never thought she’d see in her mother’s house.
Because if the Queen of Sandersville was disdainful of anything, it was the seedy underbelly that made up the darkness of their small town. Yes, she did business with them, the were-peacock cadre being the worst of the lot that Katherine knew about, but it always on neutral grounds. But tonight it was in her home. Before her stood the head of the largest mafia of fae in all of Sandersville.
Chapter 14
The lord of the were-peacocks stood in full transformation on top of the chestnut dining room table. He was twice the size of a normal peacock, with brilliant plumage and iridescent feathers. Vivid purple, iridescent blues, and eye-catching yellow and orange met her gaze. My, he was beautiful. Beautiful and a noble pain in the ass, as she knew from experience. While it was openly said that the king of the faerie wanted to overthrow the queen, the dark whispers around town made no secret of the fact that the were-peacock was so prideful that he didn’t want to merely dethrone the reigning queen, but also thought he was good enough to bed her as well.
Him.
A were-changeling...bedding a provincial queen. It was laughable. Even if the queen wasn’t her mother and she didn’t object to the notion based on familial attachment, it was still a completely absurd concept. Witches, especially royal witches, didn’t have sex with the least of the fae.
My demon-hunting aunt notwithstanding, Katherine thought with a shudder. She suspected there was more than one reason her aunt refused to talk about the man who was Cecily’s father, the man they had never met, the man she had raised Cecily in secret with for the first of year of her life, and the man who Katherine was quite sure she’d never have a chance to figure out.
It didn’t matter, though. What mattered was what was in front her.
He turned his small head to her as she walked into the room in shock. Shock to see him here in her home. And irritation that her mother, as usual, was two steps ahead of her daughter. Katherine had hoped that she was ahead of the game this time. But it wasn’t to be.
“Mother, what’s going on?”
The queen turned to her daughter. “Mr. Thomas LaCroix was just about to tell us that, dear.”
Katherine wasn’t quite sure how that would be possible. Since Mr. LaCroix now stood incapable of speech with that sharp beak.
But as if he understand her mother’s words—and Katherine knew weres could understand human speech even if most couldn’t manage to communicate in the sounds necessary to mimic it, the peacock on top of the table leapt forward—directly at Katherine. Before she could get a face full of the feathered thirty-pound peacock, he transformed into a man. A naked man. Mr. LaCroix landed on the floor in a crouch with his skin drenched in the slimy liquid that all were-folk produced after a transformation and looked up at her with oddly crafty eyes. She hadn’t expected an imbecile, a love-swept idiot maybe, but not an imbecile. One didn’t become the lord of any of the were-fae without first rising to the occasion, and since the positions weren’t hereditary, that meant he risen through the ranks by cunning, strength, and wit.
She didn’t like this were-lord’s gaze, however. It was assessing and presumptive all at the same time. As much as Katherine liked to make fun of Gestap’s manners, he’d taught quite bit about the fae communities under a witch queen’s rules. So she was very much aware that the were-community aligned themselves with a very much different code of moral conduct than the coven did. Hell, most fae were more comfortable in the nude than their coven and human brethren. Nevertheless, across fae lines one thing remained the same: a mutual respect for the culture of others. Which meant that the Mr. LaCroix’s heavy stare in his nude form was quite rude from where Katherine was standing. He was in her home, and beholden by the etiquette and standards of coven society. If this meeting had been located in his home she would have acknowledged him with a head tilt and looked aside polit
ely without a word.
But they weren’t and she didn’t. It didn’t help that she didn’t like him or his attitude towards her mother, either.
“Can I help you with something?” said Katherine, unbowed.
“Perhaps,” the lord said. Then he stood and Katherine was forced to stand rigid and stare him down. Never mind the fact that the top of her head barely reached his collarbone and she couldn’t help that she was blushing.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother frown and start to move from around the table. But she stopped, not at her aunt’s behest as Katherine would have surmised, but by the actions of whoever was coming up behind Katherine. Not wanting to be surrounded on all sides by strangers, Katherine turned abruptly to see who was coming while managing to almost keep her back out of Mr. LaCroix’s reach. When she didn’t move fast enough, the person behind her, Ethan, grabbed her by the shoulders and shuffled her to the side.
Katherine huffed but she didn’t have time to say one word before Ethan said to the lord of the were-peacocks, “Is there a problem, Mr. LaCroix?”
“Not that I know of,” murmured the still-naked Thomas. Katherine wasn’t peeking. Honest. But that much skin was hard to miss.
“Perhaps the lord of the were-peacocks would like to put on some clothes, then?” said Ethan with raised eyebrows and a chilly tone.
Before Mr. LaCroix could say his answer, the queen’s voice rang out, “I insist. Stop this silliness, Thomas. We have much to discuss and much more to act upon.”
“And a short time to do it,” the fire marshal said while holding his hat in his hands anxiously. He wasn’t nervous about LaCroix, Katherine noted, he was nervous around her mother. It had been that way all her life. When the queen entered the room time seemed to stop and everyone wanted to please her—non-family, that is. She was beloved in the community, so much so that Katherine would have suspected her blood was laced with aphrodisiacs if she hadn’t been from the same bloodline. No one loved Katherine the way they adored her mother, though. Not that she wanted to. As the focus of the fire marshal, the were-peacock lord, and even Ethan shifted to the queen Katherine could see just how creepy it was. But her mother took it as her due.