“Your highnesses,” she said as she bowed her head. But the king and queen didn’t even spare a glance at her. Their eyes were all for Aidan.
“You should not be here,” the king said, irritation etching his brow.
Aidan exhaled hard. “Nice to see you too, Dad.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Maddy
“How much further?” I asked Rhys as I walked beside him on a road that weaved back and forth, taking us up a mountain that seemed to reach all the way to the sky. My thighs burned, and my head pounded.
“Just a short way.” He took my hand, and his warmth sank into me. My teeth had been chattering for the last ten minutes or so, and goosebumps had taken up permanent residence on my skin. “A few hundred feet ahead, there’s a driveway on the right.”
“I’ll bet they have a nice view during the day.”
“Gorgeous.”
I didn’t really care about the view, but I was eager to talk about anything that would take my mind off of what we’d done. Dad was dead, and we’d incinerated his body. They wouldn’t find any remains to identify him. My mom wouldn’t know what had happened to him, and neither would his wife. But the Council would know.
I’d have to tell Cece when I saw her again. She’d understand that we had to do it, right?
“Here,” Rhys said when we topped a hill. He waved his hand toward a paved drive leading away from the main road, and we turned onto it, our steps as silent as the night. Woods crept right up to the pavement on either side, but I hadn’t heard a bird chirp, a frog croak, or even the snap of a stick. Not since we’d burned Dad. The world slept, unaware that I was shattered.
I trooped beside Rhys on deadened feet, my mind returning over and over to the flash of light, to the moment when I’d had to accept that my father was gone forever.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Rhys said, stopping partway up the drive. Ahead, through the trees, I spied a large, stone-faced, two-story building. Lights on the first floor glowed in welcome. The second story windows gleamed blackly. Sullen eyes watching.
“What am I thinking?” I asked softly. “I’m not sure I can think about anything but what we have to do next. You’re the one who’s thinking about where we need to go and what we might need to do. I can’t move my brain beyond…”
He pinched the chair leg beneath his arm, cupped my face, and kissed me softly, slowly. It wasn’t a kiss full of heat, one that would make my breath catch, but rather one intended to give comfort and strength. I sucked the feelings inside, but they couldn’t find a solid spot to alight.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs. How could his fingers be warm when my entire body shook with cold? “I know you’re hurting. Gramps has been one of my favorite relatives forever, but Alzheimer’s has stolen him; he’s mostly gone already.”
That pulled me out of myself. “That’s got to be horrible.”
“Sometimes he’s there, but when he’s not, I miss him.” He swallowed and blinked fast. “I know it’s not the same as someone dying.”
Taking his hands, I squeezed them, offering him some of the comfort he’d so easily given me. “I’m not even sure if I’m feeling hurt.” I shook my head, but I was unable to scatter the thought. “No, I am...but not so much because I’ve lost someone I loved. He wasn’t the best father. But I kept hoping…”
“That he’d see how wonderful you are and tell you.”
“Yeah.” My voice cracked. “For years, I tried to accept that he never would, but inside, I guess I still held onto a scrap of hope.”
“And now you know things will never change.”
“He won’t ever tell me that he’s proud of me. That he wants to spend time with me. That he loves me.” Tears pricked behind my eyes all over again, but I sniffed them away. Why couldn’t I stop crying?
“Maddy,” he said with so much sympathy, my eyes filled. He tugged me close and held me, letting me cry.
When my sobs slowed to hiccups, he eased away and took my hand, hefting the chair leg with the other. He guided me toward the house. “Let’s get you inside where you can rest. It’s going to be okay. I know that’s hard to understand right now, but it does get better.”
“You mean I won’t always feel this gut-wrenching sorrow?”
“I think some of it will linger for a long time. You’ll never forget, not really, but time softens the edges.”
Something to look forward to, because my edges were raw and exposed.
We walked up the rest of the drive and took a flight of broad stone steps to the double front doors. Glass panes flanked the sides, but they’d been coated with something that wouldn’t let me see in.
Was someone looking out?
Rhys paused and stared at the door on the right. He reached for the knob, but it didn’t turn.
“Should we knock?” I asked.
“I know where there’s a key.” After retrieving it from one of those fake rocks with an opening on the bottom, he opened the door and waved for me to enter ahead of him.
I stopped on the mat and wiped my feet. Only now did I realize how damp my dress was. Shit . I was about to meet Rhys’s parents. I wasn’t putting my best foot forward, but what could I do? The weather was hellacious tonight. We were on the run, seeking sanctuary.
Would we find it here?
I took in the fancy entryway, much nicer than anything I’d seen before. I’d grown up in the ‘burbs, among split-level and ranch-style homes. Possessing a mud room was considered fancy where I came from; most homes opened directly into the living room. You’d shuck your shoes beside the mat, throw your coat onto a peg near the door, and call it good.
Trying to keep my mouth from dropping open, I glanced at the gleaming wood rising halfway up the pristine white walls. The ceiling wasn’t made up of speckled panels like most others, but ornate squares recessing upward. Two closed doors on either side of the entry matched the dark wood of the wainscoting, as did the single door to the left of the stairs.
The door on the right opened, and a lean guy in his forties with messy white hair, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, entered the foyer and walked halfway through the room before stopping and turning to us. “Ah, there you are, Rhys. I missed you at dinner.” He frowned. “At breakfast, too, come to think of it.”
I pinched my lips together and watched Rhys, whose face had reddened. “Hey, Dad. You know I’ve been at Wadsworth. I wasn’t here for dinner or breakfast.”
“You’re right,” Rhys’s father said. “I’m sorry. I’d forgotten.”
How was that possible? Rhys had been incarcerated.
“Will you be here long?” the older man asked. “I have a few spells I’d love to show you. You won’t believe what I’ve discovered about—”
“I have to leave soon, Dad.” Rhys turned to me. “Maddy, this is my dad, Charles. Dad, this is my...girlfriend, Maddy.”
“It’s nice to meet you, my dear,” Charles said. After giving me a polite nod, he continued to the staircase and started climbing, stopping on the landing. He didn’t turn. “Do make sure your mother knows you’re here, son. She’d be sad if she missed you.” He continued, disappearing onto the floor above.
Rhys released a breath. “He’s...Dad’s a great guy. He’s just distracted. With his experiments.”
“Experiments?”
“He’s a renowned sorcerer and loves crafting new spells. Like the popular one that will reheat your tea so you don’t need to use a microwave.”
“I...haven’t heard of that one, but it sounds cool. Really necessary. When you drink tea. And it gets cold.” I needed to stop talking.
“My dad’s the best.”
“That’s good. Can we, um, change into dry clothes now? Maybe get something to eat?” One would think I’d have no appetite after all that had happened, but my belly was gnawing through my spine.
“Sure. I’m sure I have some old sweats and a t-shirt you can wear, unless something of Mom’s wi
ll fit. I’ll let her know we’re here.”
I pushed for a smile, trying not to feel awkward. I’d be happy to wear anything as long as it was dry. “That would be great.”
“Mom must be in the living room.” Rhys nudged his head toward the door on the left. “Let’s stop in and say hi, and then I’ll take you upstairs. We always have a few extra rooms prepared for guests. You can take a hot shower and change.”
“Are we staying here tonight?”
“Gramps will hopefully give us most of what we’re looking for, but Mom will want to visit. It’s been too long.”
“Is he your mom’s father?” I asked.
“Dad’s.”
The door to the left swung wide, and a slender woman with long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes stood in the opening. “I thought I heard voices. Rhys.” She moved forward gracefully, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor and her pale gray skirt swishing around her calves. Bracing his shoulders, she kissed his cheek, then leaned back and smiled. “I heard about what happened. Or should I say, I heard what the Council says happened.” Her gaze cut to me, and I was relieved it didn’t harden. “You must be Maddy.”
How did she know?
Stepping forward, she extended her hand, and we shook. “It’s nice to meet you. Call me Olivia, please.” Her attention drifted between us. “I see you both need to change, but I don’t think this can wait.” Turning, she strode into the living room, calling over her shoulder. “Come in and have a seat. We need to talk, and fast. Your...uncle will be here soon.”
I followed Rhys into a living room. Warmth swirled through the room, and a fireplace along the right wall crackled merrily. I wanted to hold out my hands in front of it, press my entire body against the heat. But instead, I took a seat beside Rhys on the sofa across from his mom, gingerly perching on the edge. I was soaked, and I hated the thought of staining the furnishings. Rhys shifted around and settled back against the cushions. The chair leg had to be poking his spine, but he seemed oblivious to it.
Rhys had said his uncle was around a lot, but the way Olivia had mentioned it told me I should be wary. “It’ll be nice to meet more of Rhys’s family,” I said, aiming for diplomacy. Tension hung in the air heavier than pea soup.
“Perhaps.” Olivia lifted a wine glass from the coffee table and drained the liquid before placing it down again with a sharp crack. She pinned Rhys in place with her gaze, but her words were for me. “There’s something you may not know. Rhys’s uncle—my brother—is a former member of the Council.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cece
I stood in silence, gaping at the king and queen of Faerie—Aidan’s parents —squeezing the canvas in my hand and wondering how in the hell he’d managed not to mention that he was royalty before. Granted, he was hardly forthcoming at the best of times, but why would he think I didn't need to know that once we’d arrived?
Sarah stood up and backed away with her head still bowed. I tried to take her cue and avert my eyes, but it was damn near impossible. There was such a pull of power from the royals, such a presence about them, that I just couldn’t. Instead, my eyes swept over his father and immediately found all the similarities. The effortlessly perfect dark hair. The piercing blue eyes. The beautifully symmetrical features. But where Aidan was lean and muscular, his father was broad and bulky, like a powerlifter. His mother, on the other hand, was lithe and ethereal, with stunning brown eyes and hair to match that cascaded over her shoulders to contrast her pure white gown. She was perfect in every way, and I suddenly became very aware of my tattered vintage dress. The shredded skirt, covered in blood (mine and others’), exposed my wounds and far more of my skin than I was comfortable with, especially when the king’s eyes fell on me.
Seemingly unimpressed, he turned back to Aidan. “How is it that you are here?”
Aidan shrugged like a typical teen. “I got bored, so I left.”
His father scoffed. “You cannot just leave Wadsworth.”
“No,” he replied, ice in his tone, “it turns out you can’t.”
His mother’s hand slid down the king’s forearm and squeezed, all while she beamed at her son as though she couldn’t be more pleased that he was home. That he had returned from a place few ever did. But her deceit was evident in the way her anger coiled around her and lashed out like a striking snake. She wasn’t glad Aidan was back.
She was livid.
I inched closer to him until my shoulder brushed his arm.
“We should go inside and talk,” she said, gesturing toward the gaping maw of the castle behind her. “It’s almost dinner time and you must be starving.”
Aidan said nothing and waited for them to move. His unwillingness to give them his back was palpable, and I leaned in a little harder to try to calm him—or calm myself. I couldn’t really tell. He took the painting from me and tucked it into his pants, then interlaced his fingers with mine, and it was impossible to miss the rage in his father’s eyes at the sight. I guessed it was bad enough that he’d returned, and the presence of a raggedy witch certainly wasn’t making it better.
The queen turned to Sarah. “Will you please join us, dear?”
Sarah curtsied, then watched as the king led the way toward the glass castle with the queen a stride behind. She cast Aidan a wary look, then started to follow. Aidan hesitated and bent down to my ear.
“Remember what I told you,” he whispered. “If something goes wrong, you run and call the portal, no matter what. Understand?” Too overwhelmed to speak, I just nodded dumbly. “Good. Now, trust nothing you see or hear in this place. No one you meet.”
“What about you?” I asked, the words tumbling from my lips before my mind even contemplated them.
His silence dragged on for a few seconds. It felt like hours.
“Trust what you feel,” he said softly, and I could hear the sadness in his reply.
With nothing else to say, I shut my mouth and strode beside him into the belly of the beast—a glorious castle built of glass and lies and God only knew what else—and I wondered exactly what his plan was to get the information we needed. And his revenge. Because I could feel the power rolling off of his parents, and even Aidan, in all his malum magicae glory, had never posed such an obvious threat.
As we walked in silence through the ice-like halls of his childhood home, I wondered if it posed a greater threat than Wadsworth ever had. There was an insidious energy that seemed to trail in our wake, and I found myself constantly looking over my shoulder, half expecting to find the Grim Reaper tailing me. I might not have seen a black-hooded figure lurking at my back, but I could feel the tip of his scythe scraping down my spine in warning.
Before I could say anything to Aidan, we entered a room so massive, it reminded me of a Disney movie like Cinderella or Beauty and the Beast . It was grand and surreal and unlike anything I imagined even the royals of Earth could boast. Crystal, diamonds, and gems I couldn't begin to describe lined the walls and ceilings, rendering the room a kaleidoscope of sparkle and color. It was entrancing, and I had to work hard to focus on the people around me and not the majesty of the room.
Because allowing myself to be distracted in a place like that could be a death sentence.
The king sat down at the head of the longest table I'd ever seen, the queen at his right hand. Sarah hesitated until the queen gestured for her to take the seat next to her. Without invitation, Aidan sat across from his mother and Sarah, but several seats down from the king, making sure I sat on his left—even farther from his father.
“So tell us, Aidan, how it is that you came to be here,” his mother said, as servants seemed to appear from nowhere with crystal bowls filled with some heavenly-smelling liquid. When one was placed in front of me, I grabbed a golden spoon to take a bite, but Aidan caught my hand and guided it back down to the table with a fleeting sideward glance of warning.
Apparently, things were far worse than I'd expected.
“We broke out of the reformatory,�
�� he said, his tone casual but his gaze sharp and focused on his father.
Neither the king nor the queen flinched at his reply, but I could feel their rush of concern. They were worried about what we’d done to accomplish that feat. And that made me wonder…
“I destroyed the power source that fueled the wards,” I said, trying to match Aidan’s blasé attitude. “Once they fell—and we dealt with the Council, of course—getting out wasn’t that difficult.”
“Aidan,” the king said, not acknowledging me, “who is this.. .person that dares to speak to me without invitation?” The disdain in his voice was oppressive, and I nearly shrank under the weight of it.
Nearly.
“My name is Cece,” I said before Aidan could reply, “but your son prefers ‘little witch’. It’s his pet name for me—”
“A witch,” he scoffed. “Why doesn’t this surprise me?”
“Did you not like the gift we sent you?” his mother asked, sounding genuinely offended. My brow furrowed with confusion as I tried to sort out what a present would have to do with me. Until I saw Sarah fidgeting with her napkin, and it suddenly became painfully clear.
“Holy shit,” I whispered before I clamped my hand over my mouth. “They sent you to Wadsworth…to be with Aidan…”
Suddenly, everything about Sarah made so much more sense. She’d been imprisoned to keep Aidan happy. Her life had been forfeited in an attempt to ensure the fey lord’s—or prince’s—complacency while he was there. And then I’d walked in and fucked all of that up in a matter of days.
If I’d been Sarah, I'd have hated me, too.
“I’m not really sure why you bothered,” Aidan said, unable to look at Sarah, “unless she was just another ploy to keep me from breaking out and showing up on your doorstep like this.”
Rogue Reformatory: Breakout (Supernatural Misfits Academy Book 3) Page 10