Easy Bake Coven

by Liz Schulte

  “I can think of worse things,” I muttered, kissing his neck.

  “If you keep that up, you can’t see Sy alone tonight. You have to learn to master it.” The idea of spending the rest of my life clinging to Cheney, while appealing, was also a bucket of ice water. Slowly we went from kissing to holding one another to holding hands and finally just to lying next to each other. I felt the loss, but it wasn’t consuming. It was more like a knife sticking out of me rather than chunks being torn away. I could deal with it.

  Sy took me to a bar with a few people scattered around in the shadows and rushed me back to a curtained-off area behind the counter that looked like a storage room. He stopped in the middle of the room and turned back to me.

  “You want to talk in the closet?” I asked and he immediately shushed me, eyes focused on the door. I took a deep breath and waited. He had the same golden hue to his skin as I did, but that was where our similarities ended. His crew cut was a glistening blond and his eyes were the color of gunmetal.

  “Wait here,” he said, and he went back out into the bar. A moment later he returned with that bounty hunter, Femi, in tow.

  She looked around, ears twitching. “I can honestly say I expected more. Why do you spend all your time in a pantry?”

  Sy ignored us and moved a stack of boxes out of the way, revealing a door. He pulled out a skeleton key and motioned at us

  “I knew you lived here,” Femi said as she walked through the door.

  Sy flipped the lights flipped on, revealing a warm, cozy area very much like a studio apartment. He sat on the couch, and I took the chair while Femi wandered around the room.

  “Now, what was so important that you insisted we had to speak tonight?” Sy asked, leaving Femi to snoop.

  “I need your help.”

  “Anything, coz, you know that.”

  I hoped he would say that. “Well, Cheney’s going to challenge his father for the throne.”

  Sy stared at me, and Femi stopped, looked back, and whistled. “I haven’t been able to really figure out the fae yet,” she said, “But that’s sort of a big deal, isn’t it?”

  “I think so,” I said quietly.

  Sy shook his head. “What are you doing, Selene?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He gave me a hard look. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “No, I have no idea what I want. But this really isn’t about me. It’s about everyone else. If the rebels overthrow his father, then the fae will be ruled by tyrants. Cheney can’t allow that to happen.”

  Sy gave me a perplexed look. “Who told you the rebels are tyrants?”

  “Aren’t they?”

  He sighed. “The rebels are no more evil than Cheney’s father is good. You used to believe that, too. These so called rebels are other half-elves who have been mistreated, overlooked, and marginalized by the monarchy.” He frowned. “I would advise you not to make any big decisions until you have all of your memories back.”

  It was my turn to frown. “There’s no time for that. I may never remember. What would the old me have done?”

  “You were a rebel. You didn’t support the current system of government. I don’t know how deep you were in it, but I have doubts you would’ve supported the prince.”

  I felt a firm resolve take hold. “Well, I’m not that person any more. I support Cheney. I trust him. He’ll make a better life for everyone.”

  “So you’re switching sides?”

  I nodded.

  “Have you spoken to Jaron?”

  A small trail of doubt wove its way through my confidence. I couldn’t bring myself to answer.

  “You don’t even know who that is, do you?” Sy glanced back at Femi then back to me. “I’ll help you, Selene, but not because I support Cheney. I’m there for you. We’ll figure out exactly what happened.” His metallic eyes made me feel like I was missing so much. “Did he tell you who put the bounty on you?”

  “His father.”

  He nodded. “Femi has been looking into this whole mess—”

  “But no one’s talking. Elves are locked up tighter than a jinni’s soul. I haven’t found a good in yet.”

  I scoffed. “Tell me about it. All I ever get are partial explanations and people telling me to wait for my memories.”

  Sy laughed. “It’s not so easy to fill someone in on that much time.” Sy rubbed his hands on his legs. “I’ve always stayed out of politics and never intended to involve myself.”

  “What exactly do you do?” I asked him. “Who do you work for?”

  Femi hopped over the back of the couch and sat down next to Sy with an interested expression. “My thoughts exactly,” she purred.

  “I manage the bounty hunters in this region,” he said carefully.

  “But if the Abyss doesn’t have a government, who hired you?”

  He smiled. “That should be the least of your concerns. We need to figure out exactly what’s happening. Obviously Cheney isn’t impartial and neither will Jaron be.”

  “Who is Jaron? Do you know him?”

  “I know him as well as I know Cheney, which is to say I know them only through you. But Femi and I will start digging into both sides of the issue. What exactly does Cheney need me to do?”

  “He wants a group of loyal fae to accompany him when we tell his father we are married.”

  Sy stood up, throwing his arm in the air. “Damn it, Selene. You married him? What were you thinking? You don’t even remember him.”

  “We married before I became a changeling. Honestly, I don’t know what to think anymore. It isn’t exactly fun to have multiple personalities. Half of me is deeply in love with him, and the other half wants to run away. What should I do? Should I leave Cheney?” My voice rose as I spoke. Femi watched us from the couch with narrow slits for eyes.

  Sy looked up at the ceiling and scratched his jaw. “If you’re married, there’s nothing we can do about any of this now. We need to buy you more time to figure everything out. Stay with Cheney. If I can say anything about him, it’s that he has always seemed to love you. Right now his plan is smart. He’s showing strength in the fringe races.” He paced for a moment, then he stopped.

  “Okay, here’s what I think we should do. You should go along with Cheney’s plan and see what happens. Femi will track down Jaron and we’ll arrange for you to meet with him. Tell Cheney and any other elves you might know nothing about this. It isn’t safe for any of you. Hopefully Jaron can shed some light on the other side of what happened.”

  I didn’t like the idea of keeping things from Cheney. “Why can’t you just tell me?”

  “Because I don’t know. You kept me out of a lot of your life, probably because I didn’t want to be involved in fae politics and you knew it. Whenever we were together, you never talked about any of this stuff. I always had the impression you were involved in something big, but I didn’t know what.”

  “Fine,” I said with a heavy heart.

  I didn’t know who Jaron was, but I needed to know what happened. Cheney would understand that. He had to.

  All the key players were in place, and the next week went by in a blur of meetings, logistical arguments, and never-ending training. I helped Sebastian spar with the girls, and Grandma continued Witchcraft 101 with us. She didn’t speak a word to me, which was better than constantly pushing my buttons. We were still getting a handle on our new powers, but the floating incidents were getting to be very few and far between. Devin’s dreams had gone haywire. They were so scattered with images, she had trouble pinpointing any one in particular. Kat was learning to decipher auras. Leslie was often overcome with other people’s feelings and suffered from headaches. Only Jess seemed to have adjusted to her new strengths with some ease. She almost seemed to enjoy poking around in people’s thoughts.

  Finally the day was upon us, and Cheney and I had yet to settle our latest debate about whether or not I could speak with his father alone. I had been thinking about it and felt hi
s father and I could have a more honest conversation without Cheney there. Cheney disagreed. He said his father had put a bounty on me, and there was no way I was going to be a room alone with him. I argued that my lack of remembering our history would work in our favor. I could speak to him without prejudice and past injury whereas Cheney wasn’t capable of that. He couldn’t forget or set aside his feelings, so he’d stoke the fire, however unintentionally.

  “No,” he said in a final tone.

  “You know I’m right.”

  “I know nothing of the sort. You stayed when Edith asked to speak with me. I believe your exact words were ‘whatever you have to say to Cheney, you can say to me. He is my husband and I am an adult.’ The same is true here. Whatever father has to say to you, he has to say to me as well. My days of not choosing sides between the two of you have passed.”

  “Which is exactly why you can’t remain impartial. I swear if he starts to offend me, I’ll walk away, but I need to try to understand his point of view.”

  “You’re very charming and you know it. People are drawn to you and respond against their nature when you’re around—but my father isn’t one of them. He doesn’t like you. There’s nothing to gain by speaking to him alone. It gives him opportunity to turn us against each other.”

  Ah, the root of the issue at last. Cheney blamed him for me leaving. He felt his father had come between us and now he didn’t want me near him. “Had I left when Grandma wanted to speak with you, was there anything she could’ve said that would’ve turned you against me?”

  “You know there isn’t.”

  “I do. That’s why I asked. It’s the same for me.” Cheney raised both eyebrows, making dubious look handsome. “I know that I have a history of getting mad and leaving, but I am different. We are different.”

  “Yes,” he said slowly.

  “Let me talk to your dad. I won’t let him get to me. I feel the bond as you do. You know that. We’ll be fine.” I wanted to do this, but even as I spoke the words I couldn’t be sure. Everything with Cheney happened so fast it was hard to trust my emotions, and the conversation with Sy left me doubting that he wasn’t just telling me what he needed me to know to believe him again. However, if I could talk his father out of this fight, then I would be doing something good for everyone.

  He paced around the room. “No. I’m not backing down from this. If you’ve really changed, then prove it to me, Selene. Don’t do what you always do, which is whatever you want with no thought of consequences. Show me we’re different. Listen to what I want for once in your life.”

  “Even if I believe it’s wrong?”

  “Especially then.”

  Damn it, how did he turn this back on me? We stared each other down, but in the end there was only one thing to be done.

  “Fine,” I said with a sigh of resignation. Truth be told, no matter how strong my instincts were about this, it was Cheney’s family, and if our positions were reversed, I would be beyond pissed off about being excluded. If he wanted to be there, I couldn’t really object.

  “Really, that’s it? You’re giving in?”

  “Yes. You’re right. It isn’t fair for me to ask you not to be there when I would demand to be there myself.”

  His eyes narrowed as he looked at me.

  “It’s not a trick,” I said, closing the distance between us. “I’m doing as you asked.”

  “Huh.” He pulled me into a hug. “If this is any indication of how today is going to go, Father may welcome us with open arms and hand me the crown with his full blessing and understanding.”

  “Is it really so unbelievable that I would do what you want?”

  “Yes, but I’m happy you’re at least trying.”

  “When we get home tonight, you are going to have to apologize for doubting me.” I pressed my lips against his with the full weight of my feelings for him. “Repeatedly.”

  “Then we better hurry up and get this over with,” he said, turning me towards the door but keeping his hands on my shoulders. Butterflies tangoed in my stomach. As much as we had discussed, trained, planned, and worried about this day, I never actually thought it would come.

  Everyone was supposed to arrive separately and disperse throughout the audience. Sebastian and Adan were helping the girls and Grandma. Sy, Alanna, Turin, and Beleg were on their own, with whomever they each were bringing. Cheney and I would arrive last. We didn’t want to march in with a posse. That was no way to start a peaceful discussion. If it came to a challenge, then our support would reveal themselves.

  We stood in front of a castle. I never imagined we would actually be going to a castle. I believe an alternate spelling for naïve is S-E-L-E-N-E. The palace was on the side of a mountain. Its pearly white brilliance and numerous towers looked like they were plucked straight from a fairy tale.

  “It’s showy, but it’s drafty as hell,” Cheney said, catching me eyeing the building. He took my hand and together we walked through the gates. Elves and faeries of all different shapes and sizes were milling about in the courtyard. Cheney held my hand so tight I couldn’t feel my fingers. He smiled congenially at everyone who greeted him but kept us moving forward. I could feel their eyes on me and knew I was the subject of their whispers as I passed.

  I leaned into Cheney. “They all know me, don’t they?”

  “Yes. Ignore them.”

  “The whispering doesn’t bother me. They’re just curious,” I said in my normal voice, knowing full well the elves could hear me. I smiled and nodded at the next person who looked at me with wide eyes.

  Cheney laughed but didn’t comment. We talked as we moved through the crowd, proud and happy for the world to see. At the castle entrance, the guards bowed to Cheney then opened both doors for him.

  The inside was even lovelier than the outside. Silver threaded through the white marble walls, making a gleaming forest. The floor was made from some sort of polished milky crystal and the ceiling twinkled like the night sky. We walked to another set of double doors where Cheney finally paused, taking a deep breath.

  I squeezed his hand. This better work out, I thought to the universe. You better not have brought us here to kill us—and if you did? Well, please be merciful. I drew strength from my inner elf and kept my heart steady and my face from blushing like the human in me wanted to do. Balancing the two halves of myself wasn’t as easy as Olivia made it sound. We walked through the doors hand in hand, perfectly synchronized, with heads held high and eyes focused on the front of the room.

  As we walked down the aisle, a hushed silence fell over the room. The man I assumed was the king because he sat in the large throne-like chair looked away from the person he was speaking with to watch us approach. I could see a family resemblance between Cheney and him. His eyes tilted at the same angle as Cheney’s did when he was furious and his jaw set in the same determined fashion. I fought not to glance at Cheney. Every eye in the room drilled into the two of us.

  We stopped several feet from the throne and gave what I had learned just days previously was the customary short, stiff bow.

  “Father,” Cheney said, his voice sending icy chills down my spine.

  “Son,” the King said in a similar manner.

  I said nothing, as was part of the plan.

  “May we speak with you in private?”

  His father gave a withering look and smirked. “If whatever you have to say can be said in front of someone as common as her, then surely you can say it in front of the entire court.”

  Cheney tightened his grip on my hand. “You really shouldn’t speak of my wife in such a manner, Father. What will people say?”

  The king went very still, rage consuming his eyes. His ears turned an odd shade of purple.

  “When you are ready to speak with us, we’ll be in Mother’s waiting banquet room,” Cheney said, leading me to the door to the right of the throne.

  Inside was a table that could easily seat fifty. I sagged against it and released my breath when Cheney
shut the door behind us. “That didn’t go so well,” I said softly.

  “It went much better than I expected,” he said, lightly kissing my hairline.

  The door flew open and the king marched in, slamming the door behind him. I started to move from Cheney’s arms, but he held me to him.

  “What was the meaning of that? You cannot go around saying such things in front of everyone. It was the whore’s idea, wasn’t it? Trying to embarrass me again.” His glare met my own. Just who did he think he was calling a whore?

  I was about to say something snarky, but Cheney released me and stalked toward his father with gait of a wolf. “If you call my wife a whore again, you won’t live to regret it. Have a seat. Selene would like to speak with you.”

  “I will not be told what to do in my own kingdom.”

  “You will have a seat or I will sit you down myself,” Cheney told him, inches from his father. His father sat, fists clenched with white knuckles. Not really how I wanted this conversation to start.

  “I’m sorry,” I started. Cheney and the king looked at me in shock. I pulled out my own chair and perched on the edge of it. “I know saying we haven’t always gotten along is an understatement of epic proportions. We have never really found any common ground between the two of us, which is surprising since the common ground was always right there in front of us.”

  “I share no common ground with half breeds.”

  “But you do.” I smiled gently. “Cheney is our common ground. Instead of constantly battling for him and tearing him apart, I thought it would be nice to come up with a truce that would allow for both of us to be in his life at the same time. I don’t want Cheney to lose his family because he’s with me.”

  “Then leave him and stay gone.”

  “I cannot. I don’t want him to lose you, but losing me isn’t an option either. We tried that and you saw how well it worked.”

  “If it comes down to losing one of you, it will not be Selene this time.” Cheney said.

  “I did not raise you to follow around half-breeds like a lovesick fool. You’re nearly five-hundred years old and yet you act like an adolescent.”