by AE McKenna
Dean smiled. “What about him?”
Tension eased out of me with a sigh, my body feeling loose, albeit tired. I’d questioned last year if the CADD was the right place for me, especially after witnessing crimes I wasn’t allowed to act on. And now it felt like I had Dean’s approval to act when justice demanded I shine a light on a situation. Yeah, I might be behind a desk a lot in the AD, but I was still doing good, still enjoying my career. Few djinnis could say that. I was lucky.
My phone buzzed and I pulled it out. The text banner was from Porter, my mother’s dapifer. Robinsonania requests your presence within the Spring Court.
I might’ve spoken too soon.
Chapter 26
This is awkward.
TVs blared sports and patrons laughed and cheered for their teams. I picked at the fried zucchini strips sitting on the tiny table between Hunter and me. She’d called me earlier today for those drinks, and against better judgement, I accepted. It’d only been a few days since my near-sacrifice in a volcano, Mal was unavailable in the Spring Court, Mags hadn’t left her bottle since we returned home, and I’d lost my job because I missed two shifts without calling in, so I had nothing better to do.
“I heard Penny was corked after the bureau came to the bailiwick,” Hunter murmured.
Sighing, I pushed the hair out of my face before remembering I was hideous. I fluffed it back. I should’ve known she’d invited me out to preach about my parents, but I’d practiced the fight in the shower just in case.
“Look, I know you have this alternate reality of my parents,” I whispered heatedly, “but mine is different from yours. I believe they did all those things, and they paid for it. Especially my dad. I don’t want to hear you talking shit about them, okay?”
Hunter blinked her big, gorgeous eyes at me, then smiled. “Okay, but there’s something else you should know.”
Pursing my lips, I dragged the zucchini fry through the garlic aioli, then shoved it in my mouth.
“Your great-grandfather is a fae and has a chair overseeing the bureau,” Hunter murmured. “I know everything about your family, it’s my—was—my job. I didn’t know about you. I bet you a million bucks he knows nothing about you, either. Just… keep on your toes, alright?”
I sat back and stared at her. All djinni had fae blood in them, but I’d assumed the fae blood in me was more distant than that. “I should probably talk to Mags about it.”
She nodded. “Probably a more reliable source.”
The stiffness in my shoulders eased. She wasn’t pushing her opinions of my family on me, and that was the only thing that worried me most about meeting up with the woman who’d hunted my parents. I reached inside my bag and brushed my fingers against my bottle. Diane, can I have the compass, please?
Diane pushed it out, and I placed it on the table, sliding it to Hunter.
She smiled. “I’m glad that helped you.”
“Yeah, it really did. Do you think I could hang on to it for a little longer?” I bit my lip. “Now that Sythradiafol is… no longer around, someone needs to take care of her dog.”
“Oh, Lucy, you know that dog was a spirit, right?”
“I figured, but it’s still a dog, you know? I can keep it company. Definitely treat it better.”
“That’s sweet of you.” Hunter propped her chin in her palm. “The dog was her penance for being the first fae tricked by a human. It’s free now that she’s gone.”
“Hold on, Sythradiafol was the devil in the Devil’s Bridge story?”
“Yep.”
I rubbed my scar, chuckling lightly. It made sense why the fall fae was malicious to the dog. It was the first soul she’d collected on the bridge. And that explained all the damned faery traps on the cliff Mal and I climbed. “No wonder she was a piece of work.”
“Hang on to the compass. I have a feeling you might need it later.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, if you’ll give me advice.”
I paused in pulling the compass back to me and met her eyes. “Huh?”
She pushed back the sleeve of her cashmere sweater to show the gold burns on her wrists. The raised red welts caused sympathy pains in my scars, however, hers weren’t as extreme as mine.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I have… a lot of feelings about the previous year. But… my bottle is a problem.” She covered her wrists. “I don’t like being inside it.”
“I know what you mean.” I still had problems sleeping in mine, especially now. “You should seek some help with that.”
“Someone comes to mind who can help me.”
I perked. “Oh, really?” Maybe they could help me, too.
“Yeah.” She smiled. “You.”
“Me?”
“Yep.”
“But I’m a newbie.” I hefted my bag. “Diane doesn’t go away. And she leaks and sometimes sucks.”
Hunter leaned across the table. “You’re the only other djinni I know of who has had their freewill returned. No one else understands. Please, Lucy. I need your help. I need… a friend.”
This was a bad idea. As far as I knew, Hunter was an active lightlighter, I was an unregistered djinni, and my curse made that worse. She could betray me, turn me in, and get me in gold cuffs. My gaze strayed to her covered wrists, then back to her earnest expression. Maybe I was an idiot, but I believed her.
“Yeah, let’s be friends.”
It’d been two weeks since Guatemala. Two weeks of djinnis working in and out of the house to banish and remove the Blight Lord, two weeks of Mags in a wheelchair, and two weeks since Mom had her bottle corked.
Two weeks since I’d last seen Mal.
I sat on the bench beside Mags’s wheelchair as djinnis removed the last tainted root from the lawn. The grass was torn to shreds, the garden box was destroyed, and my poor pizza oven was beyond salvaging. I’m pretty sure squirrels took off with my tarp. Today, the djinnis had removed the bug bombing tent from the house and deemed it safe to live in. They’d also repaired the ceiling. Too bad they didn’t pick up after themselves. That was left to us. But hey, we had a place to live and no one knew Penny Avalon was my mother. So far, Hunter was keeping her word. I hoped that lasted. Eventually, I’d ask her about clothes.
Mags shifted the blanket over her legs. “You know, maybe this was a good thing.”
“A good thing?” I blew on the hot chocolate, then took a sip.
“I can try a new layout for my garden.” Mags wrapped her hands around the mug. Since her time in the gold gibbet, her legs had stopped working, and she was prone to chills. The doctors—djinni ones—said that much gold exposure would leave lasting effects, but she’d heal eventually. She might even walk again.
“Let me know what I can do to help.”
Mags smiled at me. “I appreciate it, dear-heart. Where’s that young man of yours?”
I bit my lip. “He’s in the Spring Court with his mother.”
She made a noise in the back of her throat. “Fae like to keep their young on a short leash. Just stay patient.”
I nodded and almost asked about the fae great-grandfather Hunter mentioned, but I didn’t want to upset her. She seemed fragile on so many levels and I wanted to give her time to heal her wounds before I questioned her about it. This last adventure showed me how precious life was, how easily we could become maimed or worse.
I touched my scar. I’d visited an optometrist the day before about my eye. I had no vision and the x-ray showed severe burn scarring on the retina, cornea, and lens. The doctor suggested corrective surgery, but he didn’t sound optimistic. He also had no obvious answer to why I sometimes saw colors that weren’t there but suggested a patch for headaches. A wicked scar split my brow, divided my cheek, and ended even with my nostrils. I had faint sunburst scarring around my eyelid. Djinnis weren’t as untouchable as some would like to think.
The workers loaded up the Blight Lord and its minions’ remains, handed Mags a bill, and left.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“I have insurance,” Mags said, rubbing her face. “We’ll be fine.”
“Too bad Mom can’t help.”
“She did. She got the policy.”
Someone cleared their throat behind me, and I turned. Mal stood in the doorway to the patio. A lock of black hair hung over his forehead. He wore a sweatshirt and jeans. I pulled my hair over the right side of my face. The sight of him made my heart sing, but I worried about my scar. If he’d think I was ugly and reject me. But his dark upturned eyes roved over me, causing my body to heat faster than the hot chocolate had.
“One of the workers let me in,” he said. “I hope that’s okay.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
Mags glanced between us, then smiled. “I wish I could stay, Malware, but I’m tired. Thank you for helping Lucy.” She turned to me. “Would you make sure the wheelchair is brought inside? It’s going to rain tonight.”
She shifted to dirt-brown smoke and disappeared into her bottle, which rested on her chair seat.
Way to exit fast, Grandma.
I cleared my throat, set my mug aside, and stood, suddenly nervous. Mal walked onto the patio, scanning the yard.
“Looks a lot better than it did the last time I saw it,” he said.
“Yeah, no blight soldiers trying to compost us.”
He smiled, his dimples flashing. We stared at each other, both of us too afraid to get any closer, yet not knowing what to say or do to breach the silence. Two weeks was a long time.
“Luce, I—”
“So I heard—” we said at the same time.
We laughed nervously.
He waved at me, taking a step closer. “What were you gonna say?”
“My mom… Is she okay?” I asked.
He nodded. “She’s in the bottle room. No one goes in or out without it being recorded, and it’s never left empty. She’s safe. She gave me this to give to you.” He handed me the paper. “Trust funds or something. She told me to advise you to leave a few alone.”
I took the paper and saw about half-a-dozen bank accounts. I tucked it into my back pocket. “Oh, thanks. I… I don’t know what I feel about any of this.”
“That’s normal, I think.”
“How’s your mother?”
He grimaced. “It was her yearly plea for me to change Pops’s mind about moving to the Spring Court.”
“Really? Why?”
“She knows he doesn’t have much time left and wants to spend it with him.” He shrugged. “She says she wants to make his remaining years comfortable, but I think she misses him.”
Aww, that’s sweet. “Pops doesn’t want to, does he?”
“She doesn’t understand humans as well as she wishes.” He shook his head. “Pops wants to spend his time with us. Hey, we’re going to a movie this weekend. Wanna come?”
I almost said yes. Instead, I dipped my chin. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Your job, my mom…” It hurt to swallow. I wasn’t any good for him.
“Lucy, let’s talk about what happened with your mother. I swear I didn’t start our relationship looking for a way to arrest her. You are always my priority.”
I laughed nervously and stepped back. He seemed troubled, reluctant. I rubbed my scarred cheek, wondering what he thought, if he still felt the same about me. “I knew it’d happen, eventually. It’s probably a good thing you finally caught her.”
“Not if it keeps you away from me.” His fingers gently nudged my chin up and brushed the hair from my face, his thumb caressing my scar. His brows creased as his soft eyes examined me. “Come to the movies with us.”
I shifted away, covering my scar. “I look like a monster.”
His arms came around me and I rested my head in the hollow of his shoulder, furiously blinking my hot eyes.
“You’re wrong. You look like a survivor—a hot survivor.” His voice rumbled in his chest. “I see you. Please don’t hide from me, Luce.”
I wrapped my arms around his middle and soaked in his sunbaked sand scent. “It’s not that I’m hiding from you, just… I hate how people look at me now.”
He squeezed me. “Take all the time you need.”
Reluctantly, I broke from him, summoned a pie from my bottle, and held it out. “I remembered you said Pops’s favorite pie was strawberry rhubarb and hoped you could give this to him for me?”
A tentative smile touched his lips and he took the pie from me. “This looks amazing, and it smells even better.” He stored it in his bottle.
“Thanks, I—”
He gathered me in his arms and his lips covered mine. My heart skipped a beat, then raced against my ribs. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. Soft, sexy noises slipped from his throat and heat pooled in my belly, sweeping into my chest. I must’ve overthought everything. Neither of us had betrayed one another, neither was so vain that a scar could rip us apart.
He slowly pulled back, then kissed my scar. “We’re okay, right?”
I curled my fingers into his hair and sighed happily. “Yeah. We’re totes okay.”
“Good, because I scheduled us for rock-climbing classes next week.”
“You just want to see my butt in a harness again.”
“Definitely.” He flashed his dimples. “You want to see mine, too.”
I laughed. He was right.
Sure, I was disfigured, and I had to find codices for an ancient fae to keep him from restarting humanity, but I’d also found a new friend. Right now, in Mal’s arms, my lips still warm from his, things didn’t seem as awful as they had two weeks ago.
The End
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank Lori Diederich for her patience, her encouragement, and being my amazing sounding board. You increase my confidence every day. Thank you to Matthew Dewar. Your encouragement allowed me to believe in my book. Thanks to Gabe Schwartz, who enhanced Mal’s rock climbing prowess. It’s because of him that Mal and Lucy don’t rappel down a cliff together. And lastly, the writing community on Scribophile.
About the Author
AE McKenna lives in the Midwest where she drinks beer, eats cheese, and pets cats. All at the same time.
Also by AE McKenna
Smoke & Magic
Bad Luck Genie
Curious about my other projects? Find more here! https://aemckenna.com/
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Thank you for reading.