Faerie Kissed

by Jaliza A. Burwell

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, no pets are allowed,” the man at the counter said.

  Smiling, I pulled on my magic to add in a little compulsion as I said, “He’s my service dog.”

  His dark eyes glazed over for a moment before clearing back up. “Oh, of course. I apologize. How may I help you?”

  “My name is Joslyn Naevana. I’d like to check in indefinitely. One of your penthouse suites.”

  The receptionist eyed me warily. “I will need a credit card.”

  I smiled playfully as I pulled out my wallet. It was full of all the things a human would need to live in this world. “Well, it’s a good thing I have a card for you.” I grabbed the black credit card. The glossy covering reflected the hotel’s soft warm lights. The guy’s eyes widened completely.

  “I apologize, madam. I will get you checked in as soon as possible.” He tucked his phone to his ear and dialed a number. “Hello, we have a special guest. I request Mr. Monterey. He’ll want to meet with her.” He listened for a moment as he typed away on the keyboard. When he hung up, he gave me a big smile.

  “Welcome to The Plaza. We have space in our penthouse. Would you like a one-bedroom or two-bedroom?”

  “Oh, you didn’t need to contact anyone. I do not wish to have any special services. I only want a warm bed right now. And privacy.”

  “Mr. Monterey prefers to welcome our most special guests personally.”

  “Oh. Well, okay. A two-bedroom, please.” I patted my dog. “We’ll need the extra space.”

  The receptionist looked down at the dog and smiled. It was amazing how money changed everything. “Of course, Ms. Naevana.”

  He quickly got me settled, and by the time he was done, a man in a sharp navy-blue suit had come out. “Thank you, Thomas. I’ll handle it from here.”

  The man smoothly took the room card from the receptionist and then turned to me with a wide grin. There were dollar signs in his eyes. “My name is Oliver Monterey. I’m the owner of the hotel.” Monterey nodded to a man dressed like a butler. “Zack here will help with your bags.”

  “This is all I have,” I said.

  Monterey’s polite smile dimmed a little. “Then he will carry that for you.”

  I smirked. “I don’t mind carrying it myself.”

  “He insists. It’s his job.” The last part of that was aimed at the butler.

  Knowing it was a losing battle and since I wasn’t up to having a silly argument in public, I gave in, handing the bag over. Zack carried it like it was the most precious cargo in the world.

  “If you will follow me, Ms. Naevana.”

  “Please, call me Joslyn.”

  “Joslyn. It’s a pleasure having you stay in our hotel. May I ask, is this pleasure or for business?”

  “A mix of both. Unfortunately, I don’t know how long I will be here. It can be as little as a week to as long as three months. It all depends.”

  “Of course. That isn’t an issue with us. We are more than happy to have you stay in our grand penthouse terrace suite. It has a gorgeous view of Central Park and the city skyline. I promise, you will not be disappointed. Zack will be your butler for the duration of your stay. If you ever need anything at all, he will be the one to help you.”

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  Monterey led me to the private elevator, signs warning those not in the penthouses away. He used the card to lead me directly to my floor. The entire time, he kept a steady stream of a one-sided conversation going, telling me about everything I was going to love about the room, about the security, and the other services they had available for me twenty-four seven.

  By the time we arrived, I was ready to slam the door in his face and go to sleep. It was late at night, and I used a lot of magic to get there. My limbs felt too heavy as I moved around.

  The penthouse was two floors, the place warm with its soft cream colors, soft blue furniture spread throughout to accentuate it. It was nice. Didn’t match with what I used in Faerie, but in the human realm, this was what wealthiness probably looked like.

  It took a bit to get rid of Monterey and the butler, but once they were gone, I didn’t bother looking around, instead going upstairs and flopping onto my bed, falling asleep almost instantly. The last thing I felt before dozing off was Berry curling against my back, his heat giving me a sense of peace and comfort in a world full of heartache and iron.

  Chapter Three

  ~Jason’s POV~

  The numbers blurred together on the screen. Last night, I’d felt unsettled and it ended up turning into a very long night of tossing and turning. Sleep never came. I still didn’t understand why. Nothing was different about my life.

  I worked a lot. Kept Foster in check. Made Waylon meet with me at least weekly for a meal. Other than that, nothing. But my brain refused to calm down enough for me to sleep.

  So work became impossible as my brain refused to focus on my tasks. All morning nothing was getting done. I was surprised I even made it through the two meetings I had. My staff knew I was in a foul mood and kept interactions to a minimum. They knew to remain scarce when my mood wasn’t good. My anger issues had left them wary. I made it up to them as often as I could with free meals, parties, and bonuses each year for dealing with my assholeness. It seemed to work.

  Just as I was about to give up and go for a walk, my office door crashed open.

  “What the hell?” I asked as Foster practically ran into the room, breathless, dark brown eyes wild as he glanced around the room.

  “Jason.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We have a hit.”

  I frowned at my best friend. His eyes were wide, face pale, in complete disbelief. He kept glancing around as if he thought he was dreaming. I sat up straighter, recognizing the signs of his manic behavior. Not much unsettled Foster like this anymore, yet the wild look that he had gotten so often after she disappeared was back.

  “Foster, what is it?”

  He licked his lips and paced. His black hair was in disarray, and when he tugged at the strands, I understood why. “She’s back. She’s alive.”

  My heart froze for so long that it felt like someone was holding on to my lungs and squeezing tightly. Foster was too far gone in his tirade to notice the effect it had on me.

  “I don’t believe this. I mean, I never gave up. I needed answers. But I never expected this. It’s been ten years, Jason. How is this possible?” He walked back and forth, movements jerky. He didn’t know what to do.

  “Stop, Foster. Stop right fucking now.”

  He did.

  “Tell me everything,” I said in a slow voice, more so to give myself time to process than to get him to calm down. “What are you talking about? You aren’t bullshitting me, are you?”

  “She’s alive. Josie is alive. She just checked into The Plaza.” He tugged at his hair hard enough for me to wince. “I have an alert up for her name. A Joslyn Naevana checked in. I always get a visual in case of name changes. And she matches. There’s an eighty-six percent match. It has to be her.”

  “Wait, here in the city? Eighty-six percent?”

  “Yes! Fucking here. She’s only blocks away from us, living it up in that fucking hotel.” Foster’s wild dark eyes were all the hint I was given before he grabbed the photograph on my desk of the three of us—Waylon, Foster, and me—mountain climbing, and whirled it against the wall. The glass shattered as the frame fell to the floor. He wasn’t done though. My recycling bin was next.

  “Foster!” I snapped, jumping to my feet. I ran around the desk and hooked my arms around his, pulling tightly so his back was to my chest as he thrashed around. A broken sound I was all too familiar with came from him. It was a low keening that hurt my ears and twisted my heart.

  Ten fucking years and she turned up at a hotel nearby. Right down the street from us. If Jason didn’t need me right then, I’d be there demanding answers from her. Frankly, I was surprised he wasn’t already there. Maybe the shock drove him to me rather than
to her. I’d consider that a blessing. There was no telling what kind of damage he would have done if he’d gone directly to the hotel.

  I’d probably have to bail him out of jail. Again.

  “She’s alive. She looks so healthy too. How? Why? Why now?” he asked, sounding so dangerously young and vulnerable. I lowered him to the small sofa. He slumped forward, gripping his hair hard enough for my scalp to feel the pain. I grimaced and grabbed his arm, forcing him to let go.

  I got it. I understood. I was asking myself that too. We were finally getting over her. Waylon was even in a serious relationship. Just last week, he was telling me about popping the question. And I had started dating around again. Nothing serious, but better than how I had been since Josie disappeared. The only one who had never really moved on was Foster. I didn’t even know if he ever hooked up with someone after her.

  If the person he saw really was her, then this had to be a punch in the gut for him. How long had she been so close to us? Why hadn’t she reached out to us? She was going to be the one. We had all invested in our relationship with her, willing to fight the world to keep her with us. She was our childhood sweetheart. Then one night, she disappeared.

  The only person to know had been her sister, but then her sister had a breakdown and had to be forced into a psychiatric hospital, refusing to speak to anyone about anything. Then she conveniently fucking blocked out all the memories and moved on with her life. Even Josie’s parents gave her some crackpot story about Josie to help her move on. Then they did the same: moved on with their life. They had wiped Josie from their life like she had never existed. It had pissed me off enough that her father had nearly pressed assault charges against me.

  But us three? We never gave up. Her disappearance fucking destroyed us.

  And she was only down the road, living it up in a fancy fucking hotel. What the fuck?

  Anger rose in me.

  “Have you called Waylon?” I let go of Foster. He sat there, looking so broken, chest heaving as he took in deep breaths. He shook his head, still glaring down at the floor.

  “Okay. Give him a call. Have him come here. Once he’s here, we’ll figure out what to do next.”

  “I want to go see her.” Foster moved toward the door.

  I grabbed his arm and forced him to remain sitting. He tried to yank out of my grip, but I wasn’t going to give up. His attempts were halfhearted anyway. If Foster were determined to do something, no one could stop him.

  “No,” I said. “We need to play this right. What if she runs from us? What if she goes back into whatever hole she’s been hiding in? We can’t afford that.”

  “Will she really do that? Her move wasn’t smart,” Foster said.

  “Not smart at all. And we don’t know what she’d do if she knew we were on to her.” I rubbed at the back of my neck, hoping to relieve the tension building there. “Maybe she had thought it’d been long enough? Or that we were still on the west coast? I don’t know what to think. But we’ll find out. We need to be smart about it though because I refuse to let her go without an explanation.”

  Foster finally calmed enough to lean back on the sofa, chin resting on his chest. I wasn’t fooled by the posture. Foster had joined the military as soon as he turned eighteen, and after Josie disappeared, he pushed himself harder, taking on dangerous missions, not caring about himself. When he wasn’t on an assignment, he had been obsessively searching for Josie. It took Waylon and me everything we could to get him to stop with his self-destructive decisions. He was even out of the army now, instead opening his own investigation firm, traveling the world to conferences as a special speaker.

  I picked up the phone, hating that I was going to have to burst Waylon’s little world. He had been doing so well, better than the two of us. I didn’t know how he was going to respond.

  The phone rang four times before he answered.

  “Yeah?”

  “Waylon, what are you doing?” I asked.

  “Getting food for Sofia. Why? What’s going on?”

  “Foster found her. He found Josie.”

  I held my breath, waiting for his response. Nothing.

  “She’s in the city. She’s staying at a nearby hotel.”

  Still nothing. Then the phone disconnected.

  Shit.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  This was all fucked up.

  Why now? After so long, why was she now showing up?

  Chapter Four

  The second bedroom in the penthouse became my home base. It was tucked in the corner on the main floor and easy to carry things in and out of. There was a sign on the door to keep housekeeping out of the room. The artwork was removed so I had bare walls, and I covered all available surfaces with maps and news clippings. I had to get adjusted to this place as quickly as I could.

  My morning was spent getting all the fancy gadgets I needed. Laptops were slim and simple looking, but the sales rep had boasted about how much they could do. Even the screens were touchable, and I couldn’t even process how it could read my fingerprint or my face to unlock them for me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about any of the technology. I had lived so long without it.

  Entertainment in Faerie was completely different. There weren’t TV or video games available for distraction. Instead, there were an insane amount of fairs, dances, live entertainment, and competitions. And if we weren’t attending one of the events, then we were too busy trying to backstab each other.

  I had a lot to catch up on.

  Getting connected to the Internet was easy. And the hotel staff helped me set up my printer. Butler Zack ended up being an amazing resource in terms of technology. Tech toys were a hobby of his. What took a while was my typing. My fingers were clumsy as they hit each key. At this rate, I wasn’t going to get anything done in a timely manner.

  Berry was curled by the door, pretending to doze, but I wasn’t fooled. If anyone came through there, he would take them out. That gave me the reassurance I needed to get lost in my work.

  Laikynn was out in the city somewhere, hiding under a glamour, no doubt. There was also no telling how many spells he was using to make tracking difficult. Even the charm I had wasn’t the best. If he got close enough, then it’d let me know and be able to home in on him, but for that to work, he probably had to be in about a mile’s radius.

  I had to be smart in my search. Walking around aimlessly in hopes that my charm would get set off wasn’t efficient. So I dug deep in my knowledge of all things Laikynn—which thankfully was a lot. If I had to put a label to my relationship with Laikynn, it would have been sibling rivalry. We had been close. I survived because of him.

  And when he betrayed us all, it had nearly killed me. The only thing holding me together was that I knew him. Very well. And that would make this search better.

  What did Laikynn love the most? Full control.

  He wouldn’t be found working in retail or as a low-ranking businessman. No—he’d be at the top. Two years was long enough for him to get there too. But it wasn’t as simple as using a search engine on the website to find him. He was too smart for that.

  So how could he have power, but remain hidden? What kind of profession allowed that?

  That wasn’t an easy answer, but what was easy was thinking about why he became the person he was now. What was it he wanted? What was his end goal?

  Laikynn’s betrayal revolved around his deep hatred for Faerie. Not the fae, or even the realm we lived in, but Faerie herself. He hated that she was the existential being with all the power, and she didn’t share. At least not fairly or to just anyone. I was the perfect example of how powerful a being could be if Faerie backed them.

  I was the fucking queen, and before that I had been a lowly human slave.

  I hadn’t known it at the time, but Laikynn was an example of who a fae could be without Faerie’s backing. His whole family had wasted away. She punished his entire bloodline because of a mistake from one family member. Laikynn was the last one stand
ing by the time she was done taking back her magic from them all, and he only lived because he had been the most powerful in his family. She left him as an example of what she could do on a whim if she felt like it.

  When we met, Laikynn had found his in. The only reason he reached the position he had in Faerie court was because of me. He had thoroughly used me without my realizing it until after he made his move.

  That burned.

  So if he wanted complete control over his life, and if he wanted to destroy the very essence of Faerie, how would he be able to achieve it?

  That was the hard question. The human realm was magicless. At least, it didn’t have magic readily at the surface for the humans to draw upon. There was still magic under the surface and only those with the innate ability to touch it, could. They’d need to focus and reach deep into Nature to connect with that magic. And even that wasn’t Faerie magic. It was Nature’s magic. It was a different kind of magic, meant to be wielded differently.

  “Berry,” I said, printing off another article alleging a weird anomaly in New York City. Berry lifted his head to show he was listening. “Do you think the staff would find me crazy if I asked about reports of alien abductions in the area?”

  I do not know what you mean by that.

  I sighed. It was a concept that didn’t exist in Faerie.

  “If you wanted to kill Faerie from the human realm, how would you do that?”

  Berry gave me a look that said I was suggesting something preposterous and then closed his eyes and settled back down. Accepting that I wasn’t going to get an answer from him, I tried to see how far I could push the internet’s search engine.

  The results were in the millions, and I had no idea what to do with any of that.

  Faerie is powerful because she owns her own little world, Berry finally said. If I had to compare Faerie to the human world, I would say she is the size of a continent. Yes, she is endless, but that is how she wishes us to perceive her. If I wish to destroy her, I would stretch her out. Make her thin. Her power will weaken, and then I attack. I tear her apart, make her unable to exist as she was.