by K. M. Shea
With his arms on either side of me and his chest pressed as close to my back as it was to make sure we could scrunch on the toboggan, I was feeling stupidly twitterpated. Not gonna lie—it was all sorts of fun to lean back into him. Although Rigel was a little more lean than say Chase, he was still solid muscle, and I felt safe like this.
Or at least I did, until the troll bundled up in a jacket with purple ear muffs bounded up to us. “Can I give you a push, Queen Leila, Consort Rigel?” Her smile made her wrinkled face look joyful.
“Oh, no. No, no, we’re fine,” I said.
It’d been a long time since I’d been on a sled with more than one person, but I remembered that the more weight on a sled, the faster you went. With both of us being full grown adults, we were going to fly down the hill without any help.
Rigel, unfortunately, lacked my sense of self preservation. “I’m not inching this wooden monstrosity along until we build up speed,” he flatly said. “We would appreciate a push.”
“My pleasure!” The troll bowed, then placed a meaty hand on Rigel’s back and pushed.
“No, no, noooo!” I screamed as we hurtled down the hill, starting at a pace that immediately turned my nose numb and picking up speed from there.
I could barely see—much less breathe—and I pushed my back into Rigel’s chest as I screamed the whole way down.
“We’re gonna die!” I shouted with absolute certainty. “We’re definitely gonna die! All because you’re an impatient speed demon!”
We whizzed by other sledders who had started before us, careened over a jump that made us even faster and let me feel every bone in my butt when we landed.
I sucked in another breath of air, and it was so frigid I coughed on reflex. “I’m not fine! Not fine at all! This is the end! Death by toboggan—Rigel you jeeerk!”
We were almost to the bottom of the hill, but with the speed we’d reached we were going to ramrod our way over the flat area and smack into one of the gigantic snowdrifts, guaranteed.
“Look out!” I screamed.
My shades howled, herding people away from our path as we hit the bottom of the hill, skidded out on an ice patch where it looked like a sun stallion had rolled in the snow, and zipped toward a drift.
I shut my eyes at the last minute so I wouldn’t see the impact, but every muscle in my body jolted when the toboggan smashed into the drift and Rigel and I were flung from the sled.
Several cold seconds passed before I realized I was alive, and I cautiously opened my eyes.
We’d fallen out in a tangle of limbs. The toboggan was half thrust into the drift, which had partially collapsed. Surprisingly, the snow and ice buried just our feet and legs. I’d landed with my head on Rigel’s stomach, and was very pleased when I stopped screaming and I realized I wasn’t going to bash my head on an ice chunk.
But most of my body was shaking.
Why?
I heard the husky chuckle first, but it wasn’t until I peeled my head off Rigel’s stomach and saw him tilt his head back that I realized he was laughing.
It was a rusty noise—probably because he hadn’t trotted his laugh out in over a decade—but it was such a deep laugh that it moved his entire body.
He grinned—a slightly subdued look that only showed a quick flash of his white teeth, but was so expressive for him it was downright dazzling—and reached up to brush some snow off my hat.
I’d thought before during the few brief times that I saw him smile that Rigel was incredibly handsome, but seeing him laugh was…different.
It was so unexpected that he’d let his guard down long enough to express humor, and that he was fine with our Court witnessing it.
His eyes were extra bright, and in that moment, I realized they weren’t actually black, but the dark blue of deep midnight—when everyone is asleep except for the stars and moon.
“You’re unhurt?” Rigel asked.
“Yeah.” I dragged my feet out from under the snow, and Rigel started laughing again.
“Death by toboggan?” he quoted.
I tried to push him back down into the snow, but he was an unmovable wall. “You shouldn’t have said yes to the push!”
“Is that so?” His humor quieted to a barely-there smile, but his eyes still sparkled. “But then I would have missed you screaming like a banshee. I had no idea you held such a powerful lung capacity.”
“You’re the worst.” I tried to crawl away from him, but Rigel snagged the back of my coat and tugged me back so I fell into his lap.
He wrapped his arms around me so I couldn’t easily squirm away. And while I was aware of how solid his makeshift embrace felt, and it made my heartbeat kick up a gear, I was also aware that he could easily tilt backwards and make me faceplant in the snow.
“Don’t you want to attempt it a second time?” Rigel asked, his silver hair fanning across his forehead.
“No! You’ll just try to get us going even faster this time—ahh!” I squealed when the shades reached us, their furry tails twirling in circles in their enthusiasm as they jumped on us and licked my face.
Bagel hurried after them, his ear-shattering brays echoing on the hill.
I gave up when my face was thoroughly coated with dog spit, and laughed as Bagel rested his chin on Rigel’s head.
Rigel stood and pulled me to my feet. Holding me by my gloved hand he grabbed the toboggan, and we strolled toward the hill together.
It was a perfect day. And, like an idiot, it made me hope that maybe things would get better.
I paced back and forth in my office, listening as the giant grandfather clock tolled in the hallway.
Kevin and Steve were snoozing together on a dog bed, but Muffin and Whiskers were alert, watching me circle around my library—my personal study, as Skye insisted it was called.
It was after midnight. I was dressed in fleece pajama pants covered with yellow ducks, a matching fleece shirt, and a black bathrobe as I waited for Chase.
I’d normally never ask him to attend a meeting this late, but this was important. I’d received a text from the Paragon—he’d figured out what the ancient and sharp magic was that had hunted me since the day I became the Night Queen.
The timing of his text was perfect. I’d been up, trying to puzzle over pieces of conversations I’d had with Rigel—some of the things he’d said and that I’d guessed about his disappearance were starting to make me wonder…
I didn’t think Rigel would hurt me, and I focused on that as the illustration of our trust. But maybe…it goes deeper than that?
I glanced at the library shelves—Eventide had been putting extra tea sets on display, as if in hopes that the subliminal messages would eventually make me crack and I’d magically become a tea drinker.
Or maybe, if tea is one of the few ways for fae to experience peace like Skye said, maybe it’s that he wants me to have some peace myself.
My heart warmed at the thought, which helped settle me down.
I didn’t like all the deception and darkness I was being forced to play in, but there was a reason why I wasn’t backing down from whoever wanted me dead—it was for fae like Eventide, and Chrysanthe who was a secret teddy bear.
A knock rattled the door.
I darted around Kevin and Steve, and Muffin chased after me, ramming into the back of my legs when I stopped and yanked the door open. “Thanks for coming, Chase. Woah, and Linus?”
I was a little surprised at Linus standing just behind Chase—he was still wearing the fae tunic he’d worn earlier in the day, though his black hair was shoved up in a messy bun.
“I was with Chase when he got your message.” Linus met my gaze. “I assume it’s fine that I’m here?”
“Yeah.” I stepped to the side, letting them both inside. “Sorry, I was just surprised. I didn’t call a full emergency meeting with everyone because I thought they’d be sleeping.”
Chase prowled deeper into my library, stopping at the furniture arranged in front of my desk. �
�I hope nothing is wrong?”
I almost laughed at the business-like nod he gave me.
Here it was the middle of the night—I was wearing duck pajamas for crying out loud—and Chase was wearing his guard uniform and appeared to be perfectly groomed. I mean, even Linus looked a little wrinkled and his hair was less than perfect.
This werewolf. Does he ever sleep?
“Nothing is wrong—well, nothing new is wrong,” I said. “But the Paragon sent me a text.” I held out my phone, swiping it so my text exchange with the Paragon was visible.
Talked 2 my contact &
got confirmation about the spells—it’s a kind of shadow magic invented by elves.
Chapter Twenty-One
Leila
I’d sent the Paragon about half a dozen freaked out messages after, but he’d only responded with “Talk 2 u soon!” and then two pictures of Aphrodite wearing a sweater and sitting in a car booster seat with a harness buckling her in.
As if the knowledge that whoever wanted to kill me was using ancient shadow magic of a long dead race was small beans.
“I don’t know if I should thank the Paragon when I see him next, or strangle him,” Linus said.
“A shadow magic invented by elves…that does significantly change things,” Chase said.
“Yeah it does,” Linus snapped. “Any of the darker magics the elves played in were stamped out when they died! How has it resurfaced?”
“I don’t think we’ll be able to solve that tonight.” Chase rubbed his jaw. “More importantly, I cannot believe Leila’s attacker is a single individual—no supernatural is so well connected, unless it were someone as powerful as the Paragon, and I highly doubt such a person would take a personal interest in the Night Court.”
“Yeah, for sure,” I agreed. “I think we can assume the Paragon is right and the organization that was attempting to use Nyte is now trying to destroy me. It seems weird, though, given that he said they usually give up and run once you show a strong enough force, and I feel like I’ve managed to make enough allies to scare them off.”
Chase shrugged. “Maybe not so weird. The Paragon theorized they attacked you initially because they could destroy the Night Court, and potentially cripple faedom at large. You fought back by uniting the Courts in the Midwest—and you can bet eventually the other regional Courts will realize how much more power the Midwest wields as a result of that unification. Which means their plan has had the opposite effect. All because of you.”
“It’s not all because of me,” I argued.
“If you die, do you really think the other Courts would continue with your disdain for politics and welcoming other supernaturals—like myself?” Chase asked. “Do you think Rigel would allow the Night Court to remain connected with the others without you present to encourage him?”
I looked away from his piercing yellow eyes and sighed.
“Killing you is the easiest way to take back ground,” Linus finally said. “They might not be able to edge the Night Court into destruction, but they can at least stop the positive effect you’ve had on the fae.”
“What about Rigel’s theory that it’s two different people attacking me?” I asked.
“Still a possibility,” Chase said. “If they’re willing to spend the money on you to use elf magic, shadow or otherwise, I imagine they have more than one person going after you.”
“Or perhaps a less competent peon was sent first, before they realized they needed to be serious and a more experienced agent—or squad—was sent?” Linus theorized.
I nodded slowly. “Maybe.”
I wasn’t convinced. There was something about some of the attacks—some of the attacks, specifically the less dangerous ones, were always whenever I was with companions who could easily save me, like Linus and Chase. Those same attacks were always careful not to involve any humans or innocent bystanders.
It seemed a little too careful to be a random—and repeated—mistake by a newbie.
Stir in the fact that Rigel was apparently stuck in a geas, and things got twisty fast.
“Hey, what are the chances that one of the people behind this previously hired Rigel?” I asked.
“Mathematically speaking I don’t know if there’s a way to figure that out without solid numbers,” Chase said.
Linus tilted his head, making his messy bun bob. “What makes you think it’s a possibility?”
“He told me the previous contract to take me out had been canceled, but I’ve also established that he’s under a geas. What if the person who initially hired him—who I assumed was from the Night Court—was one of the people working with this shadowy organization?”
“It’s plausible,” Chase said.
If one of my would-be attackers was a client of Rigel’s, and he’s under a geas which keeps him from saying anything more than that he was hired, could that be why he disappeared and then reappeared without any explanation? He was trying to stop that person, but the geas keeps him from saying who it is?
It seemed too overly romantic to be possible. Rigel had warned me up front in our engagement that I was on my own. But Rigel had also said when he got back that he’d cared for my safety since the day we were married—and he couldn’t lie.
But Chase is right. He’s had lots of contracts. Even if this organization hired him, it will be hard to narrow down who it is. It’s not like he has a home office I can go plunder to look for paperwork.
I rubbed my temples. But he’s not passive. He must have given me a clue—I just didn’t notice.
“It’s good news that we’ve learned this foreign magic is shadow magic,” Chase said.
“You and I have a totally different definition of ‘good,’ my fine werewolf friend,” Linus said. “I think it’s terrible news. Since there’s no way to actively produce more elven shadow spells because they’re all dead, it means someone hates Leila enough to spam priceless and illegal dark magic at her.”
“But if we know what it is we can investigate it—and track it better,” Chase said.
“Yeah, maybe.” Linus set his hands on his hips. “For now, we’ll leave. This is something we can talk over in the morning with everyone else. You need to get to sleep, daughter.”
I uncomfortably hunched my shoulders—though I didn’t really object to Linus calling me his daughter, the title still felt weird. “Thank you—both of you.”
Chase bowed. “Sleep well, my Sovereign.” He stalked from the room, Linus moving behind him in more of an elegant glide.
Linus closed the door behind them, and I plopped down on one of my comfy couches.
I wanted to sleep, but after learning someone was using ancient shadow magic to fight me? Yeah, that’ll get the adrenaline pumping. And outrage too.
“How can they have the funds for that?” I muttered to Whiskers as he climbed onto the couch with me. “It’s elf magic! Any elf relics are insanely expensive, and they’re just tossing that magic around like candy. Meanwhile, I’ve had months where I’ve considered bake sales or fundraising to keep digging the Night Court out of our deficit!”
The Night Court was doing a lot better. We were no longer leaking money—I’d significantly trimmed down expenses—but there was still so much debt we had to pay back! And if I wanted to hand fix the palace in the Night Realm since the mythical realm magic was never going to show up for me, it was only going to get more expensive.
I sighed and stared at one of Eventide’s tea sets while I considered how unfair it was. And yes, I was maybe trying to keep my thoughts off mooning over the idea of Rigel—in any capacity—acting in my best interests.
I scratched Whiskers’ belly. He purred as he rolled onto his back, resting his head on my thigh, until he flipped up and stared into a shadowy corner of my office and purred louder.
What a coincidence.
“Rigel?” I called.
He stepped out of the shadows. Even though it was late at night he was dressed in his Wraith jacket, his bracers on and a s
word hanging from his belt.
He and Chase could form a club: the Ready to Fight at Any Moment Crew.
“Hey. How much did you hear?” I asked.
“I came in shortly before they left.” Rigel sauntered across the library. “I can evade Chase, but his nose makes it difficult.”
I laughed. “Those werewolf senses will get you every time!” I made a face. “I’ve become fanatical about showering ever since I hired him. I’m a little paranoid that I must reek whenever I sweat.”
Muffin jumped off the couch and approached Rigel. She reached up and hooked her claws on his pants, but when he stared down at her she re-thought her plan to dig in and instead removed her paws and rubbed her cheek against him.
Rigel scratched under her chin, then paused long enough to deliver ear rubs to Kevin and Steve who had woken up from their naps and were starting to wag their tails hopefully.
I tried to pull my robe tighter—Rigel had seen me in ridiculous nightwear before, but there was something awkward about being in duck pajamas in the library while he was dressed for a fight. I cleared my throat. “Then you probably didn’t hear about the elven shadow magic…”
I filled him in—I even told him my guess that he’d been hired by whoever was behind some of the attacks.
He didn’t say anything, but I could see the rigid clench of his jaw—which made me think I was right. He only got that look when his geas kept him from speaking.
“I can tell I’m right—or at least close enough to the truth that you can’t confirm it,” I said. “Which means I owe you a thank you for being concerned about me.” I hesitated, then added, “And I’m sorry that I was so angry that you left. I’m sorry I assumed so much about you.” I couldn’t keep from hissing under my breath, “Though I still think you should have left me a note or something!”
I expected Rigel to roll his eyes, but he shrugged. “I am to blame as well. You are correct, I should have notified you of my plans.” For a moment, his eyes narrowed in anger, and he curled his hands into fists. “It would have been wise given…” He clenched his teeth again, the geas silencing him.