Black Sheep of Faery: Books 1-2

by Harley Gordon

  Hatter and Muffet emerge from the house behind us. “What’s going on?” Hatter asks.

  I keep my back to them, not wanting to see them together. Especially not here. My old home has been defiled enough.

  We stand vigil, waiting for the Hunt. Hatter moves up behind me — I can feel him, smell him.

  He touches my shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.” I bite off the word, irrational irritation welling inside me. I have no right. He can do what he wants. Except, he said he’s waiting for me. I assumed it meant he’d stay single, but Muffet clearly has a claim on him. And I don’t even know if there’s anything between them and it’s not fair of me to demand he stays alone just because I’m not ready.

  Or so I thought.

  I don’t know anymore.

  Hoof-beats pound towards us. It’s time to catch a unicorn. Tonight has been filled with new experiences.

  And way too many old ones.

  Three unicorns emerge from the woods, and we spring into action, surrounding them to make sure they don’t get away. The horn should keep them here, but we can’t take any chances.

  Their flanks twitch, their ears flicking nervously, but they trot to a stop, their sides heaving, their eyes dancing with the wildness of the hunt.

  They’re a shade of black unheard of in this world. So black it almost drowns me. Two more unicorns appear, then two more. They keep coming until we’re surrounded by the herd, filling up the field in front of my house.

  Then the riders come, standing by their their steeds, their weapons sheathed, waiting at attention for their orders.

  I breathe easier when our people trickle into the clearing as well, relieved they followed instead of trying to hold them off. I drink in the sight of my husband and children standing together, here at our old home, tears burning my throat, flooding my eyes.

  “Where’s Herne? He’s not here.” The girl is panicked, spinning in the middle of the ring of riders.

  Belle puts a hand on her shoulder to calm her. “The Hunt is different this year. It’s your choice if you want to join and try to reunite with him or if you want to remain here.”

  “I have to try.”

  I take cautious steps towards the closest unicorn, awe stealing my breath as I take in her majesty. Sliding my fingers into her mane, I lead her over towards the shepherdess. The unicorn nudges my leg with her nose, surprising a chuckle out of me.

  This might be the most magical thing to ever happen to me, and I’m a bleeding nursery rhyme.

  The shepherdess hauls herself onto the unicorn’s back, and I step back, my eyes drawn back to my family.

  Belle blows the horn and the riders mount their unicorns, Gwen and Arthur joining each other on the same one since I borrowed one of theirs. Belle blows again and the unicorns spring into action, galloping back out towards the hills and the rising dawn.

  Belle sounds the call one last time, and the Hunt fades away into mist.

  Fitz glances over his shoulder and smiles.

  And then he’s gone.

  I’ve lost him again.

  To Hunt Until the Last Judgment Day

  It’s over.

  The others trickle away, headed back to gather the bikes and horses, to celebrate the win until I’m left alone in front of my house. Our house was more modest than the Rochesters’. We had a little cottage against the forest, navy and grey. It looks exactly the same. It smells exactly the same.

  It’s like I’ve stepped back in time, and any minute now my children will come racing around the side of the house and disappear into the trees. This is the house we passed down to our kids, who passed it down to theirs.

  It grosses me out that Pan was here.

  But now, there’s nothing left of my family line and hasn’t been since the 80s. They packed up and moved out after Pan. Sold it all and cut me out, wanting nothing to do with Faery or me.

  I couldn’t blame them. I still don’t.

  Over by the chimney is where Fitz and I could curl up together, reading and laughing long into the night. The kitchen where I cooked, where I taught my children to cook.

  The bedrooms, the library with nothing but empty shelves lined in filth. The dining room that was always bursting with visitors. Belle made this her second home. Jane was always over for tea. Jackie would come up to teach the kids swordplay. My kids adored her. Fitz and Rochester would hole up in the library over wine and books while Adele chased my kids through the house and outside over the moors.

  The howling wind Fitz and I kept each other safe and warm from.

  A life we built together.

  Until the second world war came and we all answered the call. Fitz, my sons, me. My girls joined the WAAF. I went off with the SOE with Jane. Belle kept an eye out for my girls while we were gone.

  I lost my boys to that war. And Fitz never recovered from what the war did to him. He died only a few years after it was over, and I buried myself back in the FTA. My eldest daughter moved in here and raised her family. My youngest daughter moved to Ireland.

  We grew apart. I kept working.

  Then, I met Hatter. We spent six months working together, but I couldn’t get past the guilt. So I left the FTA and reconnected with my children and grandchildren.

  A decade later, Pan was born and went on his rampage.

  Then I left Faery for good.

  Now here I am, standing in my old house, back where I started. I’ll never be able to leave Faery for good and I don’t even want to anymore. It’s where I belong. It’s where I want to be.

  The door creaks behind me, making me jump. Belle slips through. I turn back towards the living room.

  “I figured you were still here.” She comes to stand beside me, staring through the window too.

  “Is everyone all right?”

  “Yes. Wendy sent word to Hook and he and Ariel already left to head back after her. We’ll get Pan eventually.”

  “Yes, we will.” It’s a solemn vow. One I intend to throw myself into keeping.

  “Oh, and Hook wanted me to tell you goodbye. And to not be stupid.”

  A chuckle rasps out of me. “I’m trying hard not to be.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “Do you remember coming here?” I ask.

  Her hand reaches out to slide into mine. “Of course. Bo, I know it isn’t the same, but I miss them, too. I loved your family. Your family was my family.”

  My eyes close against the pain. “I know. And I should have said this a long time ago, but I’m sorry for disappearing on you.” I should have made my amends with her first.

  Her hand squeezes mine. “Thank you. It’s like I lost all of you all at once. But I did understand.”

  “I know.”

  “I know how hard it is to be back here.”

  I turn my head to look at her. “How did you do it? How did you come back to Paris to live?”

  She inspects the dust motes floating through the air, sparkling with morning sunlight. “My story is different from yours. I was determined not to let him take any more from me. I wasn’t going to be run away from my home. You don’t have anyone to be angry with, it’s just sad pain here. But you do need to figure out a way to completely let go.”

  “How?” Jane didn’t have the answer, but maybe Belle does.

  She snorts. “When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”

  I slip an arm around her waist. “How are you doing after last night?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Belle.”

  She sighs. “Did you see him?”

  “No. I saw Arthur, Gwen, and Fitz. But I know who you saw.” Her father. The father who betrayed her, but who she still loves.

  “I won’t deny it gave me a start.”

  “A start?” I raise a brow.

  “Fine. It was horrible. It brought everything back. I can’t help you with this because I’ve got the same problem. I have no idea how to let go of what happened. What the Beast put me through. Wha
t he did to my father. And everywhere I turn, there’s another retelling, painting the Beast as some misunderstood, romantic prince. He’s no prince. He is a monster, but I trusted him at first because I believed our story; I thought it was real.” She sighs. “Bo, at least you have the courage to try again. I never have.”

  I pull her into a hug, aching at the pain on her face. “It wasn’t courage. I ruined things with Hatter because of fear.”

  “We are a pair, aren’t we?” Her voice is muffled against my shoulder, her body trembling with suppressed tears.

  We stand there for several minutes, awash and lost in memories and grief. She’s much braver than I. She went on with her life, her job, never running from her responsibilities like I did.

  Isn’t that what I’m doing now? Running?

  Belle clears her throat, and releases her hold on me, rubbing at her face. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

  “I missed you.” She’s thawed out a lot since I’ve been back. I guess she really has forgiven me.

  “I missed you too.”

  The door opens again and Hatter slips inside. “Hey. Can I have a minute with Bo?”

  Till World and Time Were Finished

  Belle squeezes my arm. “I’ll see you back at the house. I have some calls to make to the locals, letting them know the Hunt is over.”

  The door closes behind her, leaving me alone with Hatter in the house I shared with Fitz. When did my life become a soap opera?

  Hatter takes his fedora off, clutching it in his hands. “I just wanted to say goodbye before you left.”

  I frown. I assumed he’d be riding the train back to London with us. “Are you staying here in Yorkshire?”

  He nods, shifting his weight back and forth. “I am for an extra day. Muffet needs my help on something.”

  I snort, turning away from him, glaring at his reflection in the window. “I’m sure she does.”

  A smile ghosts across his lips, but he keeps it contained. “How are you doing? I’m sorry to admit I missed your daring rescue last night.”

  “You were otherwise occupied.” I shrug, picturing him and Muffet curled up together on this very floor.

  “It’s getting a little ridiculous how often I get beaten unconscious and you have to save me.”

  I turn back to face him, trying to act like I’m not falling apart. “I’ll let you save me next time.”

  “It’s okay. I like having you as my knight in shining armor.” He winks.

  I play with the scarf around my neck, twisting the fabric with nervous fingers. “I guess you need to stay out of trouble for a while. Or find a new knight.”

  He forces a smile. “You know me. I’m not great at staying out of trouble.”

  I try to lighten the mood and grin. “That’s okay. I’ll still ride to your rescue.”

  He rubs a hand on the back of his neck. “So, this was your house?”

  I talk at his shoes, the awkwardness between us smothering me. “It was.”

  “I’m sorry, love. That because of Pan you had to come back here and relive it all.”

  My voice goes cold as icy rage roars through me. “Don’t worry. He’ll regret it. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “I know you will.” He rubs the back of his neck again, staring at the floor. “Anyway. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

  “Right.” I bob my head.

  “If you need anything, call me.”

  Light and breezy. Act light and breezy. “Of course. I’m sure Belle, Jackie, and I can handle the Paris Library.”

  His eyes bore through me. “I don’t just mean for Library stuff.”

  I swallow hard, trying not to fall apart. Not yet. “I know.”

  He slides his hands along my neck to cup the side of my face, tilting my chin down to press a kiss against my forehead. “Goodbye, Bo.”

  “Goodbye.” My voice is a rasp, I’m barely able to get the word out.

  He pauses in front of the open door, not turning around as he speaks. “And just so you know. There’s nothing between Muffet and I. There never has been. And there never will. There’s only been you.” The door closes behind him.

  How many times can my heart break before it kills me?

  I shut my eyes, tears falling, as I breathe in the scent of the house, listening to the echoes of the voices still hidden in the corners and walls.

  And I say goodbye.

  I race from the house, calling Hatter’s name. He turns in the field, his shoulders slumped and heartbreak shadowing his eyes. He doesn’t move, standing still, watching me run at him.

  I skid to a stop in front of him, my boots sliding on the melting snow.

  Hope and fear battle it out on his face. “Forget something?”

  I gasp for breath. “I did.”

  “What’s that?”

  “To tell you that I love you. And that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve put you through so much. I’m sorry that I pushed you away. I haven’t been fair to you. But all of this has made me realize that it’s time to say goodbye to my past. I want to focus on my future. With you.”

  He cocks his head, a smile chasing away the pain I put on his face. “Say it again.”

  A matching grin spreads across my lips. “Say what again?”

  He growls, yanking me into his arms, his lips hovering teasingly over mine. “You know what.”

  “I love you.”

  His playfulness disappears and his eyes slide closed for a moment. “I’ve waited fifty years to hear those words from your lips. I love you too.”

  “I know. Thanks for waiting for me.”

  He finally puts me out of my misery and presses his lips to mine. Relief weakens my knees, and I grip Hatter’s jacket tighter to keep my feet under me. Finally, I feel like I’m not replacing Fitz, I’ve just made room for someone else in my heart. I can still feel the ghosts of my family around me, but it no longer hurts like it once did. They’ll always be with me, but I have a new family now. A new home.

  Belle, Jackie, Hatter. They’re my family. They’re my home.

  There’s nowhere I’d rather be.

  Thank You

  Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed Bo’s story. If you did, I’d really appreciate if you could help spread the word by leaving a review. Next up, Belle’s story. Keep reading to get a sneak peek at what’s coming in October.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to Tamara Mataya for her amazing editing. You are brilliant and always make make me a stronger writer.

  To Amber Tuscan for being an awesome critique partner. You keep me sane when the doubts try to prevail.

  To Melody Simmons for her stunning work on the cover.

  To my writing friends for all the wonderful advice and support. Special shout out to WraHM and 20Booksto50k

  To my littles for giving me a reason to keep chasing my dreams.

  To my hot soldier, who is my inspiration and strength.

  And finally, thank you God, for your Son and your love.

  CHARM

  Chapter 1

  The glassy eyes of the naked corpse stare at me and I stare back. Someone killed The Gingerbread Man. I push away the guilt and grief and run through the catalog of what I know about him. He works as a guard for the Fae prison here in Paris. He is mated to Eponine. His power is super speed.

  It wasn’t enough to save him.

  His uniform and ID are missing. Not good.

  I look up from my crouch to Red standing beside me. “Call the prison. Tell them to be on high alert. They may have some trouble. Also, tell them to do a head count and make sure no one else is missing.”

  Red nods, her nostrils flaring as she scents the blood soaked air. “Will do. But Belle, I’m not smelling much in this form. There’s too many people and dumpsters around here.”

  I turn back to the body. “Call and then change forms to see if you can catch a trail. I’ll message Bo and let her know we’re going to be late.”

  Red sighs. “I hate mis
sing Sunday nights.”

  I don’t, but Bo and Hatter will be disappointed if we don’t show. “We shouldn’t miss too much of it. There’s not much we can do tonight until the doc gets through with him.” And it’s not really our investigation.

  Red walks off with her phone, her strawberry blond hair glowing like the sunrise beneath the street lights. I return my attention back to Ginger. My stomach rolls with sadness and dread. It was a violent death, one of struggle and terror.

  He was stabbed in the stomach and the throat. Blood pools on the ground beneath him, running through the cobblestones. I’ll have Hatter read his leaves tomorrow. Maybe it won’t be too late to find something out. I slip Ginger’s bracelet from his wrist and stick it in my pocket. Hatter’s tea reading isn’t as strong as his gift of persuasion, but it might give us something.

  With a quiet sigh, I stand. “Has anyone found the murder weapon?”

  The Fae officers shake their heads. Frustration makes my head pound and ache. I want to be alone, in my store, surrounded by my books. Not out here in the cold, surrounded by blood and death.

  Dr. Doolittle arrives and waves me away. “I’ve got it from here. Has the scene been documented?”

  I nod at the slight black woman. “Yes.” Crime scenes like this are rare for Fae. And as Head Librarian of the Faery Tale Administration, it’s even rarer for me to be called to them. It’s usually the Constabulary Department’s job.

  But this happened in my city. On my watch. And I’ve been sneaking out into the field more, even though the FTA Premiers disapprove of my methods. They’re still pissed I went to the Wild Hunt. Again. Apparently, I’m supposed to stay safe and above it all, dealing with the politics and phone calls and paperwork.

  No, thank you.

  Grumpy exhaustion weighs down my shoulders at the reminder of all the calls I’ll have to make over Ginger's murder. “What do you need from me?”

  Red ambles back over and joins me as I watch Dr. Doolittle examine the body.