by Sarra Cannon
She turned and caught the two leather-clad hunters in the distance, still leaning against their bikes. Knowing they were watching gave her some comfort, but she felt another spike of unease when she wondered why they were watching at all. As far as she knew, they hadn’t the last time she and Dasha visited The Shell Shack, or else Ethan, Sully, and Gareth would have shown up a lot quicker than they had.
Something was going on. Maybe it wasn’t related to her bad feeling about Zenia’s potential new friend-with-benefits, but maybe that was one component of an ever-greater mess.
Simone wished she had her mother to consult with at such a time. Why hadn’t she prepared her for this shit, or at least hinted at it? She’d tamped down Simone’s magic, left her wholly unprepared, and disappeared to who-knew-where. The thought had her seeing red.
It only took her a moment to realize she was literally seeing red.
She straightened up and fixed her gaze discreetly via the mirror on the man seated by the door. He had a red aura, and she knew she wasn’t just seeing things, because no one else around him had one.
If he wasn’t Sídhe, she’d eat her left shoe. Shit. She reached casually for her phone as Dasha returned.
“Any idea when all the construction on the motel will end?”
Simone swallowed hard. “Uh, it’ll probably keep going into spring. Should be done by the time high season kicks up.”
“Heath must think the hospitality business is quite profitable if he’s looking to sink money into the place.”
“That’s one way of looking at it.” She brought up a text message screen and casually typed out a message to Heath, pausing every so often to ply Dasha with some boring factoid about motel management. She sent: How does one identify a fairy on sight? No reason. Just asking.
Thirty seconds later, he responded: “Just asking” my arse. What do you see?
Red haze around a guy in a corner.
For fuck’s sake. I don’t know if that’s a fairy. I don’t see auras. I need to be within a certain proximity to read energy, but I tend to know ’em when I see ’em.
Oh, okay.
Do I need to come over there, love?
Don’t bother. I know you’re already here. Who’s that with you? Ethan?
She imagined that Heath sighed before responding. Yes.
What’s with the supervision?
No immediate response.
Zenia returned with their platters. Simone turned her phone facedown onto the counter and picked up her fork.
“Oh! Mike’s here,” Zenia said brightly. She waved at the man in the back corner, who tipped his head in acknowledgement.
Fuck.
“I’m going to go say hi.”
Simone didn’t try to stop her. Instead, she watched the interaction through the mirror while idly fiddling a fried scallop.
He gave Zenia a kiss of greeting on the cheek, but his gaze never left Simone. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she’d rather be paranoid than outright stupid.
“I’ll be right back. Going to the bathroom.” She grabbed her purse from the bar top and slid off her stool.
“’Kay.” Dasha was too busy hot saucing her food to pay Simone much attention.
Simone let herself into the single-stall ladies’ room, locked the door, and set her purse atop the sink. She rooted through all the odds and ends until she found her dagger at the bottom, wrapped in a bright orange bandana. To say she felt silly drawing a weapon would have been a massive understatement. Her life wasn’t a Marvel movie. She didn’t think she’d be fighting her way out of a room like Black Widow or luring a bad guy away from a bunch of civilians. She was just an overstressed, half-Sídhe princess who’d apparently inherited her mother’s skittishness.
But her mother had always had good reasons to be skittish, hadn’t she?
Simone unwrapped the dagger and tucked it into the back of her waistband. Bulky and uncomfortable, but she didn’t know a better option at the moment. She still needed to get a sheath or some sort of harness for it like the other girls.
She rooted through her purse for one last check of anything that could be used as a weapon, and only found a roll of Mentos, her massive key ring, various cosmetics items, sunglasses, and…her fingers brushed against a smooth, velvety protrusion. What the hell was that?
She rooted out the small box and tossed it immediately back into the bag. That was either a pair of rings or someone had snuck the tiniest bomb ever into her purse. She didn’t think the latter was likely, but she didn’t have time to ogle the former if that’s what it contained. She did allow herself one indulgent little giggle before exiting the bathroom, though.
And then she stopped. Heath was a lot of things, but sly wasn’t one of them. He was a man of grand gestures. At the very least, he’d want to be there when he opened that box, and being a hunter, he could certainly think of a better hiding place than at the bottom of her black hole of a purse.
She retreated into the bathroom, locked the door once again, and tossed the ring box into the sink. Yanking up the stopper, she turned the water on full blast and filled the sink up to the rim. Then she called Heath.
“Did you but a ring box in my purse?”
“No, love. If I were going to give you a ring, it wouldn’t be the sort so easily found in jewelry stores. Why? Do you want a ring? Emerald, I think I’ll get. Would bring out the no-nonsense glint in your eyes.”
She straightened her spine. “Ha ha. To be honest, before three minutes ago I hadn’t given it any thought. Seriously, there was a ring box in my purse.”
“Did you open it?”
“No. I figured an overconfident shit like you would want to be there at the big moment and you couldn’t have left it there. Ask Ethan if it’s his.”
“Ethan says no, and I doubt it’d be Sully’s, either. Where’s the box now?”
“I’m in the bathroom. I tossed it into the sink.”
“If someone’s managed to get something nasty into your bag, you need to neutralize the energy first. Just take it in your hand and imagine you’re sucking the power out of it.”
“Just that simple, huh?”
“It should be, at least for a little while. Our powers may overlap a bit so you might have a touch of mine.”
“But you can’t see auras.”
“Nor can you, except in isolated incidents, am I right?”
She hated when he was right. She sighed. “Sticking my hand into the water now.”
“Careful. I only get one wife. I’d like to use her a little bit more before something happens to her.”
“Ass.” Lovable, charming ass.
Her fingertips hesitantly skimmed the surface of the water as if she were bracing herself for an electric shock. When none came, she submerged the rest of the hand and gripped the box.
A tentative knock sounded on the thin wooden door. “You okay, Simone?”
Dasha.
“I’m fine,” she called back. “Just…handling girly stuff.”
Heath chuckled on his end.
“’Kay. Your food’s getting cold. I might eat it because I’m a good friend.”
“Thank you, friend.”
Dasha’s footsteps retreated and Simone returned her attention to the little box. “Okay. Touching it now.”
She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, feeling very silly under the circumstances. She was in a hole-in-the-wall seafood joint’s bathroom potentially defusing a ring box bomb by drowning it. If anyone had ever told her this would be her life, she wouldn’t have believed it.
As Heath said, she imagined herself drawing energy off the box. She must have done it too well, because her palm went numb as she pulled her hand out of the bowl.
“What’s happening?” Heath asked.
“It made my hand numb.”
“So it is magical. Our magic doesn’t tend to be of the flash bang variety, so you can probably open it and see what it is.”
She wedged the phone between her sho
ulder and ear and worked her thumb against the box crease. Now or never. She flicked it open and a shark eye shell sank to the bottom of the sink. “Heath, it’s a shell.”
“Hmm. Some fae can imbue objects with their magic to serve some purpose. What the purpose of that thing is, I can’t say from here, and you’re not trained to discern it. Draw the power off it and bring it to me as soon as you’re able.”
“I’m going to have a numb arm indefinitely, aren’t I?”
“Unfortunately, that’s the way my power works. The effects linger until you can either purge the garbage or give it back to the person it belongs to.”
Well, here goes nothing. She switched to her weaker left hand, pulled the stored magic out of the shell, and dropped the shark eye into her purse. Her left arm up to her elbow felt cold and hollow—as if it’d shatter into a million pieces if she were to slam it against a hard surface—but she still had some movement in her fingers.
She tossed the ring box into the trash and drained the sink. “Done. I’m going to see if Dasha’s done eating our food and lure her out on the premise of going to another bar.”
“All right, Princess. We’ll keep an eye on you.” At that point, it didn’t even need to be said, but it was nice knowing someone had her back after being alone for so long.
She headed back into the restaurant, walking stiffly with the dagger slipping farther down past her waistband, and paranoia heightened.
That fairy by the door, whom Zenia was leaned over the table of, still bore that sickly red glow. He was bright enough to guide an airplane through dense fog, at least to Simone. Obviously, no one else in the small restaurant was disturbed by it. And to think, a few weeks ago, Simone wouldn’t have been, either.
She sidled up to the bar and grabbed the last two scallops before Dasha could spear them with her fork. “Hey,” Simone said in the most casual voice she could muster. “You want to head out? We can see if there’s a Brew Thru open somewhere and blow the dust off the blender at the motel.”
“What’s the hurry? We just got here.”
Simone slouched a bit. “Uh. You know. I just wanna be a little more horizontal right now.”
Dasha crossed her eyes, shuddered, and reached for her napkin. “Yuck. Say no more. I’ll even take one for the team and drink alone while you watch.”
“You’re such a good friend.”
Dasha furrowed her brow and nodded. “I know, right? I should get more credit for that.”
Simone waved for Zenia to bring the bill.
“Leaving already?”
“Mm-hmm.” Simone kept one eye on the fairy, who was watching them with far more intent than she was comfortable with. Zenia was a beautiful woman and she probably got ogled and objectified every day during the course of her job. She was probably used to the leers, but Simone was seeing malicious intent in everything lately. She put a couple of twenty-dollar bills on the bar and slid down. “Dasha will be here for a week, so you can be certain you’ll see us again in that time.”
Zenia plopped her fists on to her hips. “You know, we could see each other on occasion at places other than the restaurant.”
Simone suppressed a cringe. They would probably be seeing far too much of each other soon enough. “You’re right, and that’s totally my fault for thinking you were trapped in this place.” Like Simone was to the motel. “When the motel’s not in a state of constant construction, we can have a cook-out or something.”
Zenia’s eyes lit up. “Are you putting in a pool?”
“Nope. Can’t afford the insurance. I’ll call ya.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Simone put her arm through Dasha’s and walked her at a fast clip toward the side door.
“Hey! We’re parked around front.”
“I know. This door is lighter.” Maybe she was over-suspicious, or just feeling extra-Heathish, she would have sworn that red-hued fairy by the front door was following.
“What?”
Keeping them moving, Simone scanned the dirt parking lot around them. Parking lots, besides the one at The Hearth, made her anxious ever since she and Heath got jumped at the park in Ohio.
Draw him away, her mind said. If there was truly anyone following her, the best thing she could do was pull them away from the structure and out into the open where Heath and Ethan could see.
“Hey, maybe I just need to walk off the cramps.” Simone pulled Dasha toward the beach situated right behind the restaurant.
“Heath not giving you enough exercise?”
“Actually, no. Like I said, I’ve been busy.”
“What’s the point of having a husband who looks like that if he’s not fucking you into a trance lovingly and often?”
“He’s good for other things.”
“Like what?”
“Like saving your tail?” came an unfamiliar male voice. “Not happening this time.”
Shit. Simone didn’t even bother turning.
Dasha gripped Simone’s numb arm and yanked. “Um, Simone?”
Simone sighed. “Yeah?”
“Th-there’s a guy with a gun behind us. Came out from under the restaurant’s deck.”
“Of course he did.”
“What the hell is wrong with you, chick?”
“I just wish they’d be a little more creative, is all.” Simone feigned dropping her purse and as she bent to pick it up, she reached for her dagger and pulled it before the fairy shithead—had to be a fairy because she saw his wicked neon glow in her periphery now—with the gun caught on.
She whipped around, spotted his weapon quickly, and brought the hilt down hard against his right wrist.
Right on cue, Dasha screamed and Simone vaguely registered a couple of dark figures pounding across the sand.
The fairy dropped his gun, but hadn’t given up on his intimidation attempt. He took a swipe at her, and she dodged it narrowly, his fist grazing the top of her hair bun.
“You’d punch a fucking woman in the face?”
“All the time, Princess. Ask Siobhan.” He laughed, and covered each one of her retreating backward steps with a step forward. “I think she might even like it.”
“Dasha, run.” Simone dodged a one-two combination, and Dasha seemed stuck to the sand. “Move!”
Finally, her friend started backing away.
The fairy dove at Simone, knocking her onto the sand and suffocating her with his big body, but left her dagger arm unpinned. Retching, she pressed the blade against his ribs, and he gave her hair a hard yank. “You like it rough, too, huh? So do I. You’re going to have to do a little more than tickle me, Princess.” He gave her hair another yank, pulling her neck up at an obscene angle.
Dasha screamed again, and all Simone could see was wild movements in her periphery. Tussling. Heath and Ethan?
“Come on, you twat,” the evident newcomer said with some strain. He must have been the cause of Dasha’s distress. So where were Heath and Ethan? “All you had to do was grab her. She’s half your size.”
“Get off my friend!” Dasha shouted.
“Oh, you want me to get off your friend, do you?” The fairy yanked Simone’s hair harder, and she decided at that moment that as soon as she had thirty minutes to herself, she was going to cut it down to a nice, manageable half-inch. Nothing for anyone to grab. Heath would have to get over it, and that wasn’t fair, but there were fun wigs she could try if she were feeling particularly kinky.
Twisted neck or not, Simone let out a grunt and slashed the dagger down the fairy’s back, this time pulling a roar from him. She lobbed her knee at his nuts as soon as he released her hair, and she rolled over several times to put some space between them.
He lurched toward her again, and dodging him, now she saw her crew. Heath had that red-aura’d fairy from the restaurant in a chokehold and had that cold, practical expression on his face—his working face—and Ethan helped Dasha to her feet.
Dasha was safe, so Simone could work, too. She was Heath’s. She w
asn’t going to be anyone’s easy target. Whoever these assholes were, they should have known that.
She waved him on, pointing her knife toward his throat. “Come on, motherfucker. Come a little closer so I can ruin your face for whatever mate The Fates find fit to stick you with.”
Ravening beast that he was, he growled and launched himself at her.
But, she was too quick, and he hit the ground, totally missing her body. “Learn some new tricks, bud. You’re not good at this hand-to-hand combat thing. I’m going to guess you’re one of Rhiannon’s guards. I hear their training could stand for some improvement.”
Ethan leaped from behind her and yanked the guard’s arms behind his back. “He’s one of Rhiannon’s, all right. He best hope for a quick death, because Heath won’t be so kind once his hands aren’t full. You don’t fuck with people the Prince cares about.”
“The same could be said about me,” the guard said, and suddenly Ethan was thrown back from the fallen man and electricity snapped around him. He started to get up, but Simone moved toward him instinctively.
“Simone, stay back! He’s got a bit of a charge,” Heath shouted.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about his charge.” She parried with her dagger, swiping and slashing as she edged closer, and the fairy crawled back. She’d never been so angry—so pissed—about people trying to disrupt her life. All she wanted was a little peace and quiet, and maybe having her curse broken so she could come and go as she saw fit.
Come and go.
That’s right.
She was a key, and it all made sense now—that self-awareness Heath and Thom had talked about. “Let’s take a little trip, shall we? Let me escort you home.” She jumped onto him, knocking him back through the portal that opened in the sand behind him, and they fell.
And fell.
And fell.