The Immortal Queen

by Jennifer L. Hart

  A chill goes through me and I want to ask when exactly she’d been at the farm. Had she seen or heard any sign of the Hunt? I can’t ask outright without arousing suspicion. “No. I just needed some time. You know. After what happened to Sarah.” It isn’t a lie, but I let Gretchen draw her own conclusions.

  “I’m so sorry about Sarah. I know you guys were close.” It’s genuinely meant, not the hollow platitudes people offer because it’s the right thing to do.

  Unfortunately, I never know what to say to the condolence givers. No reaction seems appropriate, but it seems rude to say nothing so I settle for murmuring, “Thanks.”

  She nods and ducks her head. “So, I guess you’re a little behind with classes and everything?”

  Massive understatement. “I flunked second semester.”

  She takes a bite of her sandwich, swallows and says, “You know, you could probably set your schedule to double up. That way you can graduate with our class. I’d be happy to tutor you.”

  I tilt my head to the side, studying her. First, she drops by the clinic and now the offer of help with school work. Why this sudden interest in me? Is she what she seems, a lonely girl who needs a friend and believes I’m in the same boat? Or is there something more going on?

  Something of the paranormal variety.

  I decide to play along, see if she possesses some sort of secret agenda. “That’d be great. Aiden’s not big on homework so I doubt he’ll be any help.”

  “Are you two like, together now? An actual couple?” She asks, her eyes bright. From gossip or something else?

  “We’re taking things slow. No labels. We have...similar interests though.” Like stalking and killing, vengeance and magic. You know, the usual. To get the topic shifted away from my nonexistent love life I ask, “What about you? Are you dating anybody?”

  “Me?” she laughs as though I’ve made some sort of joke. “Who would want to date me?”

  “Lots of people. You’re smart, kind, easy to talk to.” I don’t know her well enough to elaborate further.

  She glances down at the table, cheeks turning red. Her lack of confidence bothers me. In many ways, Gretchen is like Sarah. Years of other people’s abuse has undermined her self-worth. Sarah’s behavior had been overtly destructive. Drinking, drugs, promiscuity. I wonder if the girl in front of me is set on the same destination, just by way of a different heading.

  “Ladies,” Aiden plops down on the seat beside me. “Miss me?”

  “You know I never miss,” I tell him even as I think, what did you find out?

  His eyes meet mine for an instant and a single word echoes in my head. Later.

  “Gretchen doesn’t believe me when I tell her that there are plenty of people, even in this backwater town, who would be happy to date her.”

  “More than happy. Thanking their lucky stars to find such a goddess.” Aiden flashes his killer smile to close the deal.

  Gretchen’s face turns redder than a tomato. “I’m sort of focusing on school right now.”

  Aiden nods. “Wise as well as beautiful.” There is nothing patronizing in his tone, he means every word. Gretchen looks up at him, her lips part as though she’s witnessing the most beautiful sunrise.

  A flash of irritation goes through me but before I can say anything, the bell rings. “Let’s go, Casanova. We better move or we’ll be late for P.E. See you later, Gretchen.”

  “Call me, if you want. About the tutoring,” Her face shines with a happy flush.

  “Tutoring?” Aiden asks.

  “She offered to help me catch up.” The words come out as a snarl.

  “Nic, what’s wrong?” Aiden snags my arm and steers me out the flow of traffic and into an alcove.

  “Nothing. Other than we’re going to be late.” I try to push past him but he places a hand on either side of my head, effectively trapping me.

  He ducks down until his eyes meet mine. “No one will notice. Now, what’s going on?”

  The words escape and fly free, jettisoned out of me on a gust of emotion. “Do you have to flirt so freaking shamelessly with every female you encounter?”

  He blinks. “You asked me to tell Gretchen the truth. That’s what I did.”

  “You’re just so....” I wave my hands in vague circles while hunting for the right words. “Over the top.”

  A slow grin spreads across his face, as though I’ve given him some sort of present. “You’re jealous.”

  “I am not,” I try to push him away but he’s as immovable as a brick wall. “Don’t make me order you to move.”

  He cups my face in his hands. “Know this now, my queen. My heart belongs to you, whatever you decide to do with it. If my manner causes you distress I will try to be less, over the top, in the future.”

  “It doesn’t cause me distress, smug bastard.” I grit out.

  He taps the side of his nose. “I can smell the lie. You best practice honesty, if you are to be immortal again.”

  The forever young can’t lie, though they can and do twist the truth until it’s barely recognizable. What a fey says and what she means might be on opposite ends of the spectrum. I like lying, it’s a skill I’ve honed well over the years and the thought of giving it up disturbs me almost as much as Aiden’s shameless flirtation.

  He steps aside, tucking his hands into his pockets, looking way too self-satisfied for my liking.

  “You’re incorrigible.” I inform him.

  “Encouragable,” he shrugs, that smile still on his lips.

  “That’s not even a word.”

  “Sure, it is. I just used it. It means, I’ll take encouragement in any form wherever and whenever it appears.” He shrugs, but his nonchalant manner is spoiled by his goofy grin. “When it comes to you, Nic, I’ll take whatever I can get.”

  THANKFULLY, THE SECOND half of the day picks up the pace and soon the dismissal bell rings. I stash my books in my locker and go to meet Jasmine on the front steps.

  “How’d your day go?” I ask when I spy her exiting the building.

  “Great.” She beams at me and then Aiden. “So much fun. And I made friends.”

  A few girls pass us on the way down the steps, waving to Jasmine and calling out that they would see her tomorrow.

  “Damn, Jazz. You could show Nic a thing or two on social interaction.” Aiden casts her a wink.

  I glower. “Are we leaving soon? Or are we just going to stand here all day? I have things to do.”

  Jasmine’s face falls and I feel like a total bully, something that wouldn’t have concerned me a few months ago.

  Feeling awkward, I put a hand on her shoulder. “Jazz, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” she says in a small voice.

  “No, it’s not. I don’t deserve to be let off the hook when I act like an ass. In fact, I’ll make sure your mom knows so she can take it out on me during training. Come on, I’m sure she’s waiting to hear all about your first day.”

  Jasmine nods, her smile returning and I am halfway down the steps when I realize Aiden isn’t with us.

  “Do I owe you an apology, too?” I call out.

  “No. But I have something I want to check out. I’ll meet you back at the farm.” He strides off toward the buses as though he has every intention of boarding one.

  There’s a sharp stabbing pain behind my right eye. I still don’t know what, if anything, he discovered about the unfamiliar boy who’d been observing us. Nor had I gotten a chance to talk to him about the punishment for the two members of the Hunt who’d been stealing. Or ask his advice about Gretchen. And I have math homework as well as training. Will the torture never end?

  “Fine, be that way,” I mutter and turn back to Jasmine. “So, was I right about your reading?”

  She tosses her backpack into the front of the truck before hoisting herself in as if she’d done it every day of her life. “No one noticed that I’m behind. My friend Kayleigh invited me to her birthday this weekend. It’s a sleepover.”


  One day. Jasmine had been in our school for exactly one day and already she’s been invited to a sleepover. I’ve lived in the same town my whole life and never once had such an offer been extended.

  And why does that bother me all of a sudden? It never had before. I’d intentionally kept my distance, to disguise myself. Maybe Aiden’s observation about my lack of social graces burrowed beneath my skin. More likely it’s the insecurity that I don’t possess the skill set I need to rule the Unseelie Court. Queens need to be diplomatic, to talk to people, not just kill them.

  I don’t want to be another Brigit.

  “That’s great, kid.” I say and shift the truck into gear. “What’s Kayleigh’s last name? I might know the family.”

  “Hamill.”

  My brows furrow, but I force my face to relax, not wanting to spoil her joy any more than I already had. What are the chances that Gretchen decides to traverse the thorny wall I’ve built around myself at the same time her little sister befriends Jasmine?

  And where the hell is Aiden when I need him?

  Jasmine chatters the entire way home, about her teachers, her classes, the other students. The picture perfect middle school girl. Except she’s half fey and can kill any of her classmates with less effort than I expend on trig. For my part, I ask a few questions to keep her talking though my mind is on other matters.

  Aiden was right at lunch. I’m not ready to rule. I can’t even decide what to do about two thieves in the Wild Hunt. Freda wants to punish them but to me, what they did isn’t all that bad. They filched a bag of groceries, who cares? Someone with a properly calibrated moral compass would say that stealing is wrong, regardless of the reason.

  Good thing I don’t have one.

  The bigger problem is exposure. The farm is magically concealed from Underhill and her inhabitants by the Fates. But any human can access it. Many do regularly, because of Addy’s vet clinic on the far end from the house and the Hunt’s camp. Which means mortal authorities can drop by and ask questions about thefts in the area. A rash of kleptomania might draw attention we can’t afford.

  A sigh escapes. “Your mom is right.”

  “She usually is.” Jasmine doesn’t seem bothered by my abrupt change in topic. “What about this time?”

  I fill her in on the theft and sum up, “I need to make examples of them. If mortal law enforcement starts asking questions, we’ll have to make some tough choices.”

  Jasmine considers it another way. “Maybe you don’t have to hurt them to punish them.”

  I frown. “What do you mean?”

  “My social studies teacher was talking about something called community service. We can gain extra credit by volunteering in soup kitchens or nursing homes or animal shelters. She says sometimes criminals are ordered to do community service to make up for their misdeeds. What if you order Melrock and Gil to spend time helping humans, to make up for the things they stole?”

  My lips part. “And that way they can see that some humans do without too, same as they do. Jazz, you’re freaking brilliant. If it wouldn’t kill you, I would kiss you.”

  She beams, then reaches for the radio. “I need to catch up with my mortal music lessons. Kayleigh and the others were discussing some singers at lunch like I should know who they were talking about.”

  Some autotuned garbage blares out of the tinny speakers and I cringe. Normals music isn’t something I’ve ever developed an appreciation for either. Sarah used to turn on the radio whenever we drove together. She knew the words to every song, and belted them out off-key. I prefer reading and quiet for contemplation to the background noise pollution.

  By the time we reach the farm, Jasmine is humming along to the refrain, her natural melody much better than Sarah’s. I wonder if that comes from her nymph heritage, and make a mental note to ask Nahini during our next fey study session.

  I park the truck in front of the farmhouse. Freda is sitting on the steps, using some sort of crystal to sharpen the edge of Seelenverkäufer, the blade that collects souls for the Veil.

  “How did you fare?” She asks as Jasmine climbs from the truck and runs to meet her.

  “Very well, Jord.”

  “And did any comment on your illiteracy?” Freda’s chin goes up, her posture that of a mother ready to slay any demons who tried to harm her precious offspring.

  It must be incredibly difficult for her, knowing Jasmine wants to read and being unable to teach her. I’ve seen her hands clench in frustration whenever reading was necessary. She was born into a world where survival was paramount and living past thirty was considered old age. Taking time to learn anything beyond the basics to survive was considered a frivolous waste.

  “No one noticed, just as Aiden and the queen promised.”

  Freda’s shoulders relax infinitesimally. “I am glad.”

  I put a hand on Jasmine’s shoulder. “Go on in, I’m sure Chloe will have chocolate chip cookie dough ready for baking. It’s our first day of school tradition.” Mostly, it’s an excuse for Chloe to get her chocolate fix and to hear some normals gossip. She’s an absolute drama junkie as well as an unrepentant chocoholic.

  Jasmine dashes up the steps, the screen door bangs shut behind her.

  “Training in one hour!” Freda calls after her. Her smile fades when she turns to me. “Have you come to a decision about the thieves?”

  “I have.” I tell her about Jasmine’s idea regarding community service.

  Freda’s blonde brows form a tight v as she considers it. “Asking them to help mortals who they consider to be favored by the gods? They will hate that more than the flogging. You will be known as a ruthless queen.” Her lips turn up in a predatory smile.

  “Just the look I was going for. Let me drop my stuff and then we’ll tell them together.”

  Freda stands and sheathes the sword. “I can inform them of your decision.”

  But I shake my head. “No. I won’t be the sort of ruler who passes a sentence without looking her subjects in the eye. I want them to know me. To know I will punish them if I must but also that I am involved in all that takes place.”

  Freda nods, the light of approval shining in her eyes. “As you say, my queen.”

  I move up the steps and into the farmhouse. As expected, Chloe and Jasmine are busy spooning cookie dough onto a baking sheet.

  “The trick is to work in a little extra flour,” Chloe says, a smudge of white on her rosy cheek. I can’t tell if the vanilla scent belongs to her or the batter. “It makes them super soft. Nic, grab a spoon.”

  “I can’t. Some royal duties need my attention.” I set my bag down and snag a water bottle from the fridge.

  “But it’s tradition,” the goddess of spinning destinies whines like a constipated mule.

  “And you’re observing it and passing it on.” I gesture to Jasmine.

  Chloe pouts. “Fine. But if we eat all the cookies before you get back you have no one to blame but yourself.”

  Jasmine giggles, eyes shining with mirth.

  I head into my room and change into Pilates pants and a sport’s tank, knowing it’s unlikely I will return to the house before training. Still sore muscles protest and I wince. Every time I feel as though my physical condition is improving, Freda finds a whole new muscle group to torture.

  When I exit the house, I see Nahini speaking to Freda. In the late afternoon sun, her iridescent armor shimmers like dragon scales. She dips her head respectfully when she sees me. “My queen. Freda has informed me of your plan.”

  “Technically, it’s Jasmine’s plan since she’s the one who suggested it. Do you think it’s a good one?”

  Nahini nods. “I do. The Hunt needs to respect mortals and their property. To see them as similar instead of different. To view them as people instead of prey.”

  I nod, feeling only slightly hypocritical. Most mortals are categorized in my mind in terms of threats, useful cover or prey. “Ironic that I’m the one to teach this lesson.”

  Be
ing a serial killer and all.

  The three of us fall into an easy stride, Freda on my right, Nahini on the left.

  “You’ve always served justice,” Freda says.

  “If I was such a terrific ruler, how did Brigit manage to convince the Unseelie lords to attack my summer residence?”

  “There’s a difference between just and popular. And you were never that, at least not with the lords.”

  The pressure behind my eye intensifies. At this rate, I’ll have a full-blown migraine before sunset. “And is this move going to make me enemies within the Hunt?”

  “You already have an enemy,” Freda growls. “We still have a traitor in our camp. Someone was sneaking Seelenverkäufer to Brigit.”

  “Any luck in the search?”

  “I’ve ruled out a few of the newer members who don’t have connections. But that still leaves dozens of us.” Her gauntlet covered hands clench in frustration.

  Seelenverkäufer, the blade of souls, was entrusted to Freda after my death. Someone had been stealing it from her tent and transporting it to the other Unseelie queen for her unnatural experiments in reanimating the dead. My first in command has made it her personal mission to ferret out the traitor in our midst and bring him or her to justice.

  “They’re immortal fey. They can’t lie. Why not just ask each one directly if they took the sword?” It might be a stupid question, but it seems like the most straight forward approach.

  “If word spreads that we’re looking for a traitor, he or she might run before we have a chance to interrogate them. We don’t just need to find out who was helping Brigit, but also how they did it and if there are any others.” Nahini’s words are soft and sure.

  “We are hunting one of our own.” Freda says as we approach HQ. “An immortal hunter. And our greatest weapon is that the spy or spies aren’t aware that we are after them.”

  “So, who do we trust completely? I want a list.”

  “Myself and Nahini of course. Tad, Leaf and Gwendolyn.”

  “That’s it? What about Alric?” I name the handsome Spriggan fauna master who helps Addy out with the veterinary clinic.