by Elle Lincoln
I am like their owners, even if I don’t want to be, and even if the guys don’t see me as such. It will weigh on my mind for a while.
Patrick stands before me as the last falls into a deep, dreamless sleep. His hand rests against my cheek, his thumb brushing my lip.
“I will tell you every fucking day that you are wanted by me. That right now, the worry in your eyes makes me fall hard for you more than yesterday. The love you show is a gift I will honor until my dying breath.” He brushes his lips against mine, in a kiss that will forever change our dynamic. No longer are they mine, but I am theirs.
I fall into his kiss, allowing myself to dissolve as tears fall freely from my eyes. Who knew this grouch would be the one to spill his feelings?
I pull away, searching his eyes, but all I find there is a love so rich my breath fails and my head spins.
“Ah, Bette.” His accent thickens. “You’ve stolen our hearts, even if you hadn’t marked us, we would have done so ourselves, telling the world.”
I kiss him once more, sniffing away my tears. I pull back the words on the tip on my tongue, but he kisses me again.
“I don’t need the words, Bette.” He taps my head. “I’m in here.”
“Okay.” I wiggle down, grabbing his hand. “Where to next?”
“Well, if Kelsie wants nothing to do with her father or the other courts, then we need a plan.” He pauses, looking down at me, his head tilted with a devilish smile on his lips. “A plan Balor seems to have already set into motion. That bastard.”
“Does it have anything to do with the headache I keep getting?” I hope to hell he didn’t do anything stupid.
“Oh aye, it does.” He squeezes my hand. “Come on, they aren’t too far from here.”
For some reason, I get the feeling I’m going to both like and dislike whatever Balor has been up to.
Chapter 13
Bette
Wasteland
One of my favorite aspects of Asheville was how incredibly quirky is was. Picturesque and homey, with the feel of a city but without the claustrophobia. I loved it here. I loved the city and the opportunities it held. I loved the little cafes and the festivals.
Home.
Now, the town sits as a wasteland of crumbling buildings and litter. Sadness sweeps over me as I feel a longing to see this town come alive. To see lights twinkle between buildings. Artists painting murals, telling the story of the fall and the rise of a town who held it together.
I want all of it. I want to hear laughter in the streets. I want all races, species, and factions to come together and listen to music and drink. To stuff myself on food that vendors spent days preparing.
My throat tightens with yearning. Hell, I didn’t know how good life was until the light was snuffed.
“That is what I am working toward.” Balor steps from beside a building where the face of Dolly Parton fades and chips away.
His body is at his full height. In this form, he is a giant. His tartan is a muddy brown from wandering through the woods, the clip barely holding it closed. His boots smash the pavement with his heavy steps, mud seeping from the soles. Abs twist and clench with each stride, distracting me, but eventually my gaze glides up his eye seeking mine beneath heavy brows. My lips quirk up into a smile. He is one sexy motherfucker.
I watch in amusement as his lips twitch at that thought. Good. Because when this is all over, I want him in every fucking form.
“You’ll have your wish.” Reaching me, he sweeps me off my feet, my legs anchor themselves around his waist, and my lips meld to his. Slow, sweet, and torturous kisses light me on fire. “Careful, there are things to do, Little Raven.”
I smile, realizing how true that is now that I can shift. “What have you been up to?” I tap my head. “It’s been giving me a damn headache all day.”
“It was best you didn’t know.” He slides me down his body, staying in his monstrous form.
“Why aren’t you shrinking?” I eye him up as Logan and Ember join us, each not looking me in the eyes, and no one answering me. I hum low in my throat. “Patrick, clothes.”
A plastic bag flies out behind me and Ember catches it with a smile on her face. Her and Logan are covered in mud. I tsk my tongue.
“Spill,” I demand, stepping back until all four of them are in my vision.
“Tell us about Kelsie,” Balor deflects.
I roll my eyes, but tell them everything that happened during that peculiar situation.
“That is odd.” Even Balor agrees, which surprises me, but he doesn’t miss a lot, or so I’m noticing.
“Guilty.” Casseus’s voice rings out as he and Mac join us in the deserted intersection.
“Yeah, but of what?” I counter. I jerk my head at Mac. “What’s your thought?” Of all people, he should have a levelheaded response.
“Her skin was grey?” He rubs his chin. “She’s suppressing a hell of a lot of magic. She releases only small bursts to keep from exploding. It’s killing her.” His voice holds concern for a woman whose father he hates, her family he despises, and all this coming from the calmest man I know.
“That’s what I feared. Can he find her?” I bite my lip, crossing my arms in worry.
“Depends on his magical link to her. Some can find their own kin, some cannot. I suspect she hides from him. But Bette, if she did what you said she did, and I have no reason not to believe you, then her power…” Mac shakes his head. “She could be very dangerous, not just to the Fae, but to everyone. I suspect she knows this.”
“What do we do?” I hate this, I hate not being able to do anything for her.
“There is nothing we can do.” The compassion flowing from him warms me, but reality speaks a story darker than anything I’ve ever faced.
“Well, there is something we have to do,” Balor cuts in. “We are throwing a party at sundown.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I can’t tell if I’m shocked or excited. Because a party. No, that is pure excitement. “With drinks?” Can I even get tipsy? Because that sounds amazing.
“Balor, is that the wisest decision?” Now the levelheaded one, Mac, is being a party pooper.
“I think it is fantastic!” Casseus chirps, which makes me giggle. Mac smacks him. “What? Didn’t you think about it? It’s perfect!”
“A few individuals will be here shortly to cover most of the buildings in ivy and plants.” Balor pinches the bridge of his nose, this must pain him. “Witches will also be here to create light orbs. And many others to get things ready.” He sighs before looking up into the sky, probably praying for patience.
“Okay, but why?” I’m not complaining, but this is the worst time for a party.
“I’ve spent hours roaming the woods, hunting those who live there to band together. This was an idea that came to me halfway through.” He’s avoiding something.
“He’s giving himself a coronation.” Logan frowns. He glances at Balor with something on his tongue, but he swallows it with one look from the God King.
“A coronation?” My eyes widen in realization. “You’re claiming this territory!”
“The mayor is gone anyway.” Again, he frowns. “If this works out with no fights or bloodshed, it will show the Fae that we can form an alliance with other factions and species. Uniting in one territory, working together.”
I smile at him, then frown as a dark thought flutters through me. “How? What did you give them?” Because no way would different species band together like that unless bribed.
“Don’t worry about that. Tonight, you show them all the formidable queen you are.” His voice deepens sending a thrill up my spine.
“Queen?” I raise a brow before smirking. “And these other bedfellows?” I tease.
“My knights,” he responds.
“You really have thought about this, haven’t you?” I eye Balor, his challenging smile convincing me that this is a good move to prove to the Fae they can’t win every battle. “Alright, so what do we have t
o do?”
“We need to find a location, I gave a general idea.”
“He told everyone ‘in town,’ but he didn’t pick an actual location,” Logan explains, ratting him out again. It’s amusing watching Balor frown each time Logan opens his mouth. But his look isn’t annoyed, it’s just an acknowledgment of his words.
“We can either clear out the downtown area or move over to the estate.” I bite my lip. If we are planning to stay at the estate, the question is whether we want everyone knowing our location. “Mac?”
“I’m not sure. Years ago—”
Casseus cuts him off, correcting, “Millenia ago.”
But Mac is undeterred. “Years ago, parties were held at the estates. A show of wealth and fortune. An announcement to the world that the host held power and prestige.” He pauses, a frown marring his handsome face.
“Is that what we want to show?” I’m not sure, I feel like I’m making the wrong choices time and again.
“In a sense,” Balor interjects. “I’m declaring this area as mine. I want to present as a formidable foe one does not cross.”
“Yet ye don’t want to scare everyone away,” Patrick chimes in. “I’m going to get some of that moonshine, someone let me know where ye end up.” Patrick taps his head before swooping me away from Balor and planting a kiss on my lips. He is sloppy and comical, pulling back with that rogue grin full of mirth and amusement.
“Moonshine it is!” I laugh, turning to the others. “Okay, so if people are coming to set up, let’s make them clean up the main drag here—remove the cars, the trash, glass, all of it. Then we encourage some to stay and rebuild.”
“Anyone know where to find some solar panels?” Logan muses.
“Maybe on the other side of the mountain, where the box stores were.” I point in the direction, but without a car it seems so far away. “May as well try and find a mechanic and an electrician while you’re at it.”
He strips off his shirt. “Who do you think fixed up the ATVs?”
I give Mac and Casseus a dirty look, both appearing sheepish. “These two led me to believe it was them.”
Logan laughs. “No, not them. Me.” He stalks to the end of the road, before calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be back.” Then he’s out of sight.
“I wonder what he has up his sleeves.” Sighing, I look at the last of my crew. Mac, Casseus, Balor, and then Ember. “Come on, let’s see what we are working with, because I get the feeling this may take all damn day, or what’s left of it at least.”
“We will have help.” Balor’s confidence eases my worry, yet I don’t know who he spoke to or what he offered them in return. But help would be nice.
“You have yet to tell me who this help is.” I don’t look back as I near the street in question. I instantly deflate. “How much time do we have?”
“Sundown.” Balor doesn’t even frown, just walks over to a car, lifts it, and walks away.
“Where the hell are you going to put that?” I’m imagining a stack of cars lined down a road. That just won’t do.
“I’m going to find a place I can set them on fire.”
“So, then we’ll have burnt hunks of junk lying around.”
Balor turns slowly with the cherry red car above him. “There are creatures that can melt metal. I’m going to see if that is something they would do,” he says slowly, which irritates me.
“Me.” Ember walks over to Balor. “I melt.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Maybe my problem lies in the fact that I really don’t believe anyone can melt metal. “Wait, are these cars completely worthless?”
“Logan said the new ones were.” Balor turns around, still holding the car above him.
“Find a spot like a junkyard.” I wince, that will fill up quickly.
The entire street is full of abandoned cars and junk. I look at Mac and Casseus, the last two here with me, since Ember took off after Balor. “Well, where do we start?”
“I can tell ya where to start!” I spin, smiling at the voice of my grandma. She looks a little worse for wear in her dirty clothing, but the shotgun strapped to her back tells me she is doing just fine. I’m just glad she survived. I shouldn’t have doubted that she would. Not a whole hell of a lot can keep this woman down. “I heard you burned my house down!” She grabs me, pulling me in for a tight embrace.
My arms wrap around the frail woman, though I know she is anything but frail. “I didn’t burn your house down.”
“Eh, no matter, the distillery is fine, ran into Patrick on my way down the mountain. Found my stash, did ya?” She pulls away, hugging Mac and Casseus with the same force as me. Each hug bringing a blush to their faces. Immortals really get thrown off by affection. It’s amusing.
“We deserve the drink, Grandma.”
“That ya do, I hear you started a war!” She smacks my arm, jiggling the shotgun on her back and making me hope like hell the safety is on. Knowing her, it isn’t.
“I didn’t start a war.”
“Eh, too bad.” She backs away, propping her hands on her hips. Her grey hair is longer than before, sweeping across her forehead. “This where we’re setting up?
“Balor talked to you too?” Of course he did.
“Yep, all us humans.” She winks at me then whistles.
Voices reach my ears, laughter echoing off the abandoned walls. I look down the street to see dozens of humans stepping out of buildings and nooks. “What?” It isn’t that I didn’t hope there were survivors, I just hadn’t seen any yet.
“I’ve been busy finding stragglers and setting them up in my home.” She snorts. “Truth be told, I said yes to Balor before he even opened his giant mouth. I like my space and these people need a home to call their own. I knew he’d come to his senses and take over. This area needs a king. Someone to look after everyone equally. With the lot of you, it’ll happen. Eased most of the humans when I hugged him too.”
I smile. A Celtic king, born of the deepest depth of the sea, some labeling it Hell and calling him a demon, hugged my grandma and eased the worries of dozens of humans. I love that his compassion grows daily, and yet he stays true to the darkest aspects of his nature to do what needs to be done in less than ideal situations.
“Wipe that dopey look off your face.” She gags, turning to the lot walking toward us. “Alright, we are starting here!” She turns back to me. “What do you think the odds are we can just set some areas on fire?”
I roll my eyes. “You have been talking to Balor!”
“Hear me out, it makes perfect sense. Burn some areas to the ground and fertilize the land. Balor said he got some beans.”
“Beans?” I question.
“I spoke to a bean sidhe.” Balor steps past us, lifting another car.
“Impossible,” Mac replies automatically.
“Yeah, a bean,” my grandma reiterates.
“Yes, Mac.” Then Balor winks—winks! —at Mac before strutting off.
“What the hell was that?” I turn to Mac, looking for a logical explanation. “What the hell is a she?”
“Sidhe,” Mac corrects, but it still sounds like she. “They are an ancient race.”
“Tuatha? Fae?” What are they? I need to know why Mac and Casseus both have an odd look on their faces.
“Neither. They are the land,” Mac replies.
“That makes no sense!”
“It does,” a new voice states, washing over me like a rolling hill. I swear I can hear the wind in that voice as well. Thick with nature and culture far older than I can even fathom. “Hello, sister.”
I turn, looking at the newcomer. He’s taller than I thought at nearly seven feet with long, icy blond hair, and pointy ears. He reminds me of an elf depicted in so many movies, but I don’t dare say that out loud. Something in me knows this ancient being deserves the upmost respect.
And he called me sister. “Sister?”
“Ahh, I see your men haven’t filled you in yet.” He winks one violet eye, v
ery much like my own. “We have much in common. My name is Aeden, it’s an honor to meet you, Bette.”
“I never had any siblings.” It is by far the most ridiculous comment I’ve ever made, but it somehow made sense to me even though the guys groan. Must have made a faux pas.
Yet the tall man before me laughs and I swear it sounds like crickets.
What the hell have I gotten myself into this time?
Chapter 14
Bette
A Silent Coronation
The sun descends in the sky, casting sepia colors down the street, setting the scene for the evening. Sunbeams highlight the ivy and the purple blooms grown by the sidhe. Light orbs dance in the air, hovering down the street above so many creatures I’ve lost count. Twinkle lights illuminate the buildings, darting across the road in between the orbs. Logan came through with those solar panels, and electricity sparkles through the air. A band is setting up at the end of the street, their instruments tuned to an impossible tone. Every time they play, I’m swept away into a different world, a different time.
And that is exactly what we need—a dream, a fantasy, a separation from reality, to drink, to laugh, and to forget the world’s atrocities. Even if the goal in those things is to stand strong in the face of our foes. To make sure they know that whatever they do, it won’t stop us from prevailing.
I watch as the sun dips lower and mortals and immortals alike step out onto the street, mingling and laughing. I sit on a balcony peering down below, my stomach twisting in knots. Even though their laughter and smiles reach my senses, I cannot help but wait for the anvil to drop. Each of us, Balor’s knights, watch from the shadows as he sits on throne made of brambles and thorns at the front of the street. Another chair sits empty beside his. Mine.
The label of queen, in any sense, is most little girl’s dream. Hell, earlier in the day, he made it sound so amazing. But as more and more people emerged from the shadows, dread sucks out all my excitement.
That chair means more than I’m ready for. I’m ready for him, to be by his side, but what I’m not ready for is that title. A title his ex-wife wore all too well. To sit poised above a population, looking down on them and listening to their concerns and desires, and either giving in or not. I realized standing in front of that chair, that persona isn’t me.