Queen of the Fae

by Linsey Hall

  “Damn.” I’d wanted to keep interrogating him.

  “Are you all right?” Cass asked. “I saw you fall from the sky while I was closing up my shop.”

  “It was more of a dive, but yeah, I’m fine.” I drew a shaky hand across my forehead, unable to stop the trembling.

  This wasn’t like me.

  My arm.

  The memory flashed in my mind. I looked down at the smear of red potion that stained my pale skin. Thin veins of black ran through the liquid.

  “You saw a vision, didn’t you?” Aeri asked.

  Shakily, I nodded. “How could you tell?”

  “You kept muttering stuff like ‘no’ and ‘not true.’”

  The horrible image flashed in front of my mind again, and I closed my eyes. “He hit me with one of the potion bombs. Just a little bit got on me, but it was enough to help direct my premonition sense.”

  “What do you mean?” Aeri asked.

  “I think my mother sent me a vision.”

  Aeri’s gaze was riveted to my arm, then to the torn sleeve that I’d flung away. It lay on the grass.

  “Let’s go to P & P,” Cass said. “You can get some water, and Connor can figure out whatever was in that potion that the Fae hit you with.”

  Connor was a potions master as well as the owner of our favorite bar, Potions & Pastilles.

  “And you look like you need something stronger than water,” Aeri said.

  “That’s the truth,” Cass said.

  I grinned wearily, then looked at the Thorn Wolf. “Burn, go guard the house, would you?”

  He woofed low in his throat, then disappeared. Wally followed.

  Our house might have a hole blown in the back wall, but if Burn and Wally were guarding it, no one would get in.

  “I’m going to head back to my place to get something to take care of this bastard.” Cass nudged the Fae’s still foot.

  “You’re the best.” I smiled at her. Unlike the demons we normally killed in our day jobs, Unseelie Fae bodies didn't just disappear. Having a friend to do the dirty cleanup work—before any cops showed up—was worth a million bucks.

  Cass saluted. “Any time, pal.”

  She loped off toward the warm golden lights of P & P and her shop. Both were located right across from the park and a few doors down from each other.

  “Come on.” Aeri helped me stand. “Let’s get you to P & P.”

  We could possibly do it at home as well—neither of us was a slouch with potions—but Connor was particularly good at this sort of thing. He’d probably be faster, too, especially since most of our ingredients were smashed beneath the broken wall.

  “The vision was bad, Aeri.” I couldn’t help but play it over in my mind.

  “Tell me all about it over some coffee and a pasty.”

  My stomach growled, and I grimaced, my gaze going to the body next to me. Connor’s famous Cornish pasties were a rare treat, and apparently I hadn’t eaten in a while. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  I found my stilettos, which had fallen off in the fight. One had a broken heel. “Damn it. I liked that pair.”

  I picked up the stilettos, which were midnight black with silver spikes all over them. I used the heel of the unbroken one to scoop up the torn sleeve, not wanting to touch it with my bare skin.

  Aeri helped me across the grass. I spotted Cass locking up her shop, and she passed us on her way back to the body, a big bag slung over her shoulder.

  She stopped briefly. “I don’t know what to do with this guy, so just send me a message if you want him for any reason.”

  “Check if he’s got something that will help locate the queen of the Unseelie,” I said. “Otherwise, just get rid of him.”

  “On it.”

  “You’re the best. I owe you one.”

  “You’ve had my back plenty. Payback time.” She raced off, and Aeri and I continued on.

  We crossed the street and entered P & P, which was nearly empty save for a few old men huddled around a table drinking golden whiskey. The rush would come soon, once people made it from the Business District to this side of town for a night out.

  The warm interior smelled of pastries and whiskey, an excellent evening combination. Golden light shined from mason jar lamps that hung on wires from the ceiling. Warm wood glowed under their light, and local art decorated the walls. It was a trendy, hipster place, with unrecognizable but pleasant music playing on the speakers.

  Connor looked up from behind the counter, his floppy dark hair swept over his forehead. He grinned and waved. Today, his band T-shirt proclaimed him a fan of Worakles, which I’d never heard of. But then, Connor had broad taste in music.

  His sister, Claire, pushed through the door behind the counter, coming from the kitchen in the back. She wore her black fighting leathers and had a streak of blood across her face.

  “You’re going to have to clean up if you’re working tonight,” Connor said.

  Claire grinned at him. “Consider it my night off.”

  “Ha-ha. As if.” Connor flicked some water at his sister.

  Claire was a mercenary for the Order of the Magica, one of the supernatural governments. She helped out at P & P occasionally, but it was primarily Connor’s baby. He was a hearth witch and potions master, which made him perfect for the gig.

  He sighed and turned to us. “She’ll be the death of me.”

  “Whatever, bro.” Claire grinned at us, then frowned. “You okay? Looking paler than normal, Mordaca.”

  “Yeah. I’m good. Fantastic, really.”

  “Liar. Let me know if you need anything.” She disappeared through the door, back into the kitchen.

  I thanked fates for my amazing friends. We weren’t very close—not all mushy or anything; that wasn’t my style—but we did understand each other. All of us had secrets so none of us pried. But when we needed help—body cleanup, demon disposal—we could count on each other.

  Aeri and I approached the counter, and Connor’s gaze went from my bare feet to the shoes and torn sleeve in my hand. “Busy night?”

  “You could say that.” I held up the shoes so the material dangled higher in the air. “I was hit by a potion bomb that soaked into my sleeve. Could you identify it?”

  He nodded. “Sure.”

  I raised my arm, indicating the red stain of potion. “And mind if I use your bathroom?”

  He gestured to the corner where the door was located. “Help yourself. I’ll tell Claire to get you something to eat.”

  “Thanks.” I handed over the sleeve, and he disappeared into the back. His potions workshop was located past the kitchen.

  I straightened, pulling away from Aeri and walking under my own steam to the bathroom. I might have been shell-shocked by the vision, but weakness wasn’t my style. And if there was one thing I had, it was style.

  I stepped into the tiny bathroom, grimacing at the feel of the cold tile on my bare feet. Though I dealt with gross things like demon blood on a daily basis, walking into a public restroom without shoes was so not my idea of a good time.

  “Just add it to the list of shitty things in a shitty day,” I muttered.

  At least Connor kept the place clean.

  Quickly, I scrubbed off the red potion that stained my arm. Besides the weird vision, I felt mostly normal. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean anything as far as potions were concerned. They could be slow-acting. Or subtle.

  One minute you’d be walking around; the next, you could be dead.

  Also not my idea of a good time.

  Cleaned up, I consulted my reflection.

  Ragged.

  Ew.

  This would not do.

  I waved a hand in front of my face, using a glamour to fix the appearance of my hair and dress. I was still technically a mess, but no one could tell. I couldn’t do anything about my broken shoes, but I made sure that the illusion of my black dress went all the way to the floor. Finally looking like myself again, I returned to the coffee shop and
joined Aeri in the comfy chairs in the corner.

  We sat, and Aeri leaned close. “What did you see in the vision?”

  I drew in a deep breath and described the burning town, along with my mother’s black magic infecting the minds of the Seelie. And finally, the image of me killing Tarron.

  “What?” Shock dropped Aeri’s jaw.

  “Exactly. She’s enraged—she failed to capture the Seelie kingdom before, so now she wants to destroy it.”

  “You’re sure it’s true?”

  “Definitely. The only question is, can I change it?”

  “You’ve got to ask Aethelred.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.” The old seer was one of my few close friends.

  Except, that wasn’t quite true, was it? I seemed to have a lot of friends these days. But Aethelred was one of the oldest. When things weren’t completely crazy, we met every Friday for a morning walk along the beach so we could gossip. He had to bribe me with bacon sandwiches to get up that early, but for him, I did it. Though we made a weird pair, I loved him.

  “Why did your mother send you the vision? Couldn’t it give you enough time to stop her?”

  “It could. I don’t think she realized that I could read her intentions in the premonition. It was like we were connected. Nothing will stop her, not even if I go to her. But she showed me the vision to threaten me into coming to her, promising to stop it if I did.”

  “Ha.” Aeri gave a bitter laugh. “She can dream right on with that.”

  “Right?” Many supernaturals would think it was great to be able to create any magic with a few drops of blood—or more blood, if you wanted the power to be permanent. But the truth was, I lived my life in fear of being used as a weapon.

  It had happened before, to both me and Aeri. Not only had Aunt tried to use us as weapons, but after we’d escaped her clutches, our first friend in the real world had turned us over to the Order of the Magica. We’d barely escaped, but the experience had been formative, to say the least.

  “I have to stop my mother to save Tarron. It’s the only way. Because whatever she’s going to do can only be fixed with his death. The vision was clear on that.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “I have no idea. I couldn’t see details, but that bit was clear.”

  Claire appeared at our table, her face scrubbed clean and her dark hair wet from a quick shower. She was now dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, with a little black apron slung around her waist. She set a tray on the table. “Compliments of the house. Connor’s working on your potion.”

  “Thanks.”

  She smiled, but there were shadows in her eyes.

  “Bad day?” I asked.

  “Not a fun job.” She shivered. “Sometimes being a mercenary sucks.”

  I didn't tell her to get a new job. Claire knew what she was about, even if it left scars.

  I squeezed her hand, a rare show of affection. I wasn’t much of a toucher, and she knew it.

  “Thanks.” She smiled, then disappeared.

  I ignored the steaming espresso and savory pastry that sat on the tray. “Give me a moment.”

  I closed my eyes, calling upon my gift. I’d done this two dozen times before, trying to see my mother. To figure out what she was up to and how I could stop her. Maybe I could see something else based on the vision she’d sent me.

  Nothing came to me.

  “Shit.” I opened my eyes. “When I try, I can’t see anything.”

  “She’s a powerful Fae. She may be blocked from you.”

  “Hopefully Aethelred can see something that I can’t.” The seer was massively powerful, and though he didn’t see all, what he did see was true. I prayed that my power worked differently—that I saw potential futures. Not the one true future.

  “Eat,” Aeri commanded. “Once Connor tells us what was in that potion bomb, we need to go fix our house.”

  I swigged back the espresso and picked up the pasty. The half-moon shaped pastry was full of savory filling—beef and potatoes in this case. The traditional version. It was a classic back in Cornwall, where Claire and Connor had come from. They’d made it a specialty at P & P, and pretty much everyone in town was a fan.

  I was just finishing the pastry when Connor came out of the back, his face set in concerned lines.

  “Shit,” I muttered. Quickly, I unwrapped a butterscotch and shoved it in my mouth.

  Aeri turned and frowned. “Double shit. Connor doesn’t usually look so dire.”

  From the expression on his face, this was going to be bigger than butterscotch. Stress tugged at me, tightening my muscles.

  He joined us and sat in one of the cushy chairs, leaning forward and propping his hands on his knees. “It’s a mind control potion.”

  I’d feared as much when I’d seen the black stripes running through the red. My mother’s mind control magic worked like a black smoke that filled your lungs and polluted your mind.

  “How bad?” I asked.

  “Strong. Very. But I think its efficacy depends on quantity. You got that sleeve off quickly, so it shouldn’t be too strong. For now.”

  “So the influence could grow? It could get worse?”

  “Could. Definitely don’t get hit with another dose. One more and whoever made this potion bomb will be your master.”

  I grimaced. “I’ll try not to.”

  I leaned back in the chair. Shit. My mother was trying to work her mind control even from a distance. It had probably allowed the Unseelie to send me the vision.

  I rubbed my arms, feeling weird. Like there were spiders in my head, or something. Some kind of horrible, unfamiliar force that could strike at any time.

  “Is there an antidote?” Aeri asked.

  “Not one that I’m familiar with.”

  “The antidote will be killing my mother,” I muttered.

  Connor grimaced. “Family drama?”

  “You could put it that way.”

  “Well, I’ll see if I can come up with another antidote. Just in case you need it.”

  “Thanks, you’re the best.”

  He nodded, then stood. “Good luck.”

  As he walked back to the counter, Aeri left a wad of cash on the table. It was far more than our food would have cost.

  “A thank you,” she said.

  Connor had helped us because he liked us, but we liked to make things even. In this case, since we were busy, it would have to be with cash.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I said. “I’m running out of time.”

  I was supposed to meet Tarron that evening so we could get started hunting for my mother again, and there were things I wanted to do beforehand.

  I walked out onto the street. Aeri followed, and we headed toward Ancient Magic. On a normal night, it would be closed by now. But Cass was kindly dealing with the body of the Unseelie.

  I pulled open the glass door of the shop and stepped inside. The cluttered little space was full of magic, as usual, and Cass sat behind the counter, clutching an obsidian dagger in her hand. She’d slung her brown leather jacket over the counter and was dressed in a white T-shirt that looked like it had seen better days.

  “That came from the Unseelie, huh?” I asked, eying the dagger she held. They’d all carried the black volcanic glass daggers when I’d visited their realm.

  “Yep.” She frowned down at the thing. “But it’s not giving me any insight to jump-start my ability. It was the only thing he carried that might do it, too.”

  Damn it. Cass’s ability to find things far outstripped my Seeker ability. “We’ll just have to hope the Circle of Night isn’t closed.”

  She raised a brow. “You’re going to try it?”

  I shrugged. “I was hoping I’d be able to use my new gift of premonition to find my mother, but it hasn’t worked. So the circle is our only clue right now.”

  “There could be an ambush.”

  “Probably will be.”

  “Want backup?”

&n
bsp; I smiled. “Wouldn’t hate it.”

  She nodded. “I’ll get Nix and Del, so we’ll have plenty.”

  “Thanks. I think we’ll go at dawn. It’s when it’s most likely to be open.”

  We arranged a meeting point, then parted ways. This would work well with Tarron arriving soon. I used my transport magic, taking Aeri back to our place. We arrived on the sidewalk right in front of our main door.

  “You’d never know the wall was blown in,” I said.

  “Seriously.”

  We hurried into the house and went straight back to the workshop. It still looked like hell, but there appeared to be a new wall where none had been prior. I walked up to it, careful to avoid any sparkling glass that shined on the floor, and stuck my hand right through.

  “Nice work,” I said.

  “Thanks.”

  Burn stuck his thorny head through the illusion of the wall and woofed.

  “Anyone give you trouble while we were gone?” I asked.

  Bacon.

  “That means no,” I translated for Aeri.

  “I’ll deal with this mess while you talk to Aethelred,” Aeri said.

  “Thanks.” I squeezed her shoulder as I passed her and strode to my apartment. Quickly, I changed into my fight wear. There was no more time for dresses and heels. The reprieve had been nice, though it had only lasted a few minutes before the damned Unseelie had shown up and I was shoved back into the fight.

  Dressed, I looked into the mirror. My makeup was still impeccable—a handy talent of mine—and the black mask of paint obscured much of the area around my eyes. I patted the small bouffant on top, then pulled the rest into a ponytail.

  Ready—and most importantly, now wearing shoes—I headed out to the foyer.

  The knock on the door made the hair at my neck stand on end. Awareness prickled along my spine.

  I’d heard that knock before.

  Tarron.

  He was early. I drew in a shuddery breath.

  I was definitely not ready.

  3

  I strode to the door and swung it open, revealing the devastatingly handsome Fae king on the other side. He towered over me, even more so than usual because I wasn’t wearing my stilettos. His broad shoulders blocked my view of the street beyond, and he was dressed for battle in sturdy black clothes that would conceal blood and allow for flexibility.