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Authors: J. S. Chancellor

Tags: #Fantasy, #Romance, #Young Adult

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BOOK: A Thief of Nightshade
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A very tiny hand petted Aubrey’s hair as Lipsey whispered, “Oh my, that prince.”

“Jullian was taken to Tabor, the King of the Beasts,” Aislinn began, “on the very day he was supposed to be brought to the Queen’s

Winter

Court.

Tabor

and

Jullian’s younger brother sent him where he would be safe, to your world. It was their hope and belief for the last decade that they had been successful.”

“Jullian is—”

Aislinn bitterly finished her sentence, “Here in Avalar, brought back by his own kind to be turned over to the Queen. How desperate the court of Man is to end its own petty suffering that it would risk the only chance Avalar has ever had to be reclaimed.”

“What happened to his brother, the one who helped him? I need to find him.”

“He can’t help you. He’s dead— killed by the Sidhe for his transgressions.”

Aislinn rose and walked to a small window beside the bed. He looked out, his eyes focused on some place in the distance.

“But ... Jullian’s alive?”

Aislinn turned to her. “They didn’t bring him back sooner because they couldn’t find him. Just as it’s nearly impossible for you to believe in a world where magic is real, so it is for us to believe in a place where it isn’t. Once the Court of Man discovered what Tabor had done, that Jullian had been sent to another world, it promised the Fae it wouldn’t stop searching until they found him. Once it succeeded, it was only a matter of time before it figured out a way to pull him back.”

“If Jullian is alive, we can go back —”

Lipsey interrupted suddenly, “She doesn’t know, does she?”

“Know what?”

Aislinn looked back to the window.

“He can’t go back, Aubrey,” he whispered.

“He

doesn’t

remember

anything. Not you, or your world, not even his past in Avalar.”

That’s

when

the

reality

of

Nightshade’s prologue hit home ... the first few paragraphs she’d read so long ago in his first novel ...

And so it was done. Every
generation the eldest of the royal
family came to the Queen’s Winter
Court, forgetting everything of his
life once he entered. He became
King, only to wither at her side and
wait for the moment when the next
prince would take his place and let
him die.

Chapter Four
Once ...

AUBREY HAD SPENT THE MAJORITY OF

CLASS
going over her budget. Her parents had recently severed all financial ties with her over their displeasure with her choice to forgo medical school. So she’d gotten a job, rented a house with Sam and started the classes she’d wanted to take for years.

To her chagrin, her sudden workload meant that a couple of those classes took place at night. This one in particular, Advanced Exposition, always left her a little uneasy about walking to her car afterwards. She felt a little too old to be afraid of the dark, but it never failed to make her stomach turn when Dr. Hale dismissed them.

She’d prepared to ask Tyler, one of her classmates, to walk with her, but just as she started to open her mouth, he took a phone call and jetted out the door. She stood still, unsure what to do next, before noticing the very last person she wanted to ask: rent-a-cop Jackson McAllister. He stood at the far end of the hall with a cigarette hanging halfway out of his mouth, his belly jutting over his belt.

She groaned and opened her mouth to do the unthinkable. “Um, Jackso—”

“Aubrielle?”

She turned her head to see Jullian walk up beside her. “Dr. Sellars.”

“I’m kind of embarrassed to admit this, but I seem to have locked my keys in my car.” He wore a dark green turtleneck sweater, chocolate brown slacks and looked so good it hurt.

When have I ever been this lucky? “I could take you to get your keys. If you have a spare set?”

“I would be eternally grateful.”

She motioned toward the parking lot.

“I’m not far.”

They walked in silence, her heart thudding in her chest. When they reached her Land Cruiser, she fumbled for a second with the keys, nearly dropping them before steadying her hand and unlocking the doors by remote. To her surprise, he opened her door and she laughed at herself as he went around to the passenger side. How old are you, Aubrielle? Too old to be acting like a teenager, that’s for sure.

When she started the engine, he gave her directions to his house and began moving things around in his briefcase.

They were two streets away from the college when he broke the silence again, “I really appreciate this.”

She gave him one of her sister’s tight-lipped grins. “Truth be told,”
I am in
love with you and want to have your
children,
“I hate walking to my car at night.”

He looked up and tilted his head, giving her a sideways smile. “Really?

Judging from your stories, I wouldn’t have pegged you for skittish.”

“Sorry, I’m a huge chicken.”

“Sometimes it’s a little easier to be ourselves on paper.”

“I write satire, Dr. Sellars. In my case, it’s more like who I wish I was.”

“Much truth is said in jest.”

“Touché.” She braved a glance in his direction and caught the glitter of streetlight in his eyes. Quickly, she looked back at the road. “I suppose that would mean you are young at heart then, considering Avalar is...” she trailed off, grimacing.

A wide smile lit up his face.

“Fantasy? You’ve read my work, I see.”

She cleared her throat, shocked at the slip of tongue. Sam would never let her hear the end of this. “I always research my professors. Do I turn here?”

“Yes and then a sharp left. Young at heart, huh? Are you saying I’m old?”

There was no getting out of this. “No.

I just meant ... I haven’t read faerie tales in a long time.”

“And I’m willing to bet they were nothing like what you read in mine.”

She ran through some of the darker scenes from Nightshade in her mind, as if she could have forgotten them. “I wouldn’t say faeries were evil, necessarily, in the stories I heard as a child. Grimm’s real stories, not the watered-down versions they publish now, were almost too graphic for children.”

He pointed at a small craftsman on their right. “This is home.”

She turned into the driveway and remained in the SUV while he ran inside to get his spare keys. “Aubrielle Wright, what are you doing?” she asked herself aloud.

He got back in, reached for his seatbelt and paused. “How do you know the brothers Grimm intended their stories for children?” The seatbelt clicked into place as he settled himself back in.

“I don’t know,” she laughed. “I read it somewhere, I think.”

“Has it been so very long ago that you believed in magic?”

“I’m twenty-three years old.” She swiveled in her seat to back out of the driveway. “I stopped believing in faerie tales when I was shipped off to boarding school. You tend to grow up faster when you have to take care of yourself.”

“I’m sorry, Aubrielle. Truly, I know what that’s like to feel as though you don’t mean anything to your family besides what you can do for them. What was boarding school like?”

She stayed hushed for several long moments before responding. “We would have parent day twice a year. Grant, my older brother, would take time away from veterinary school, or later on from his practice, to come. I have an older sister and a younger brother who were with me at school, but it isn’t the same as having a functional family. I remember badly breaking my leg when I was ten and my parents were too busy planning a charity benefit to come see me in the hospital.

Really, I love that there are still people in this world who can believe in all things warm and fuzzy. But there’s nothing like cold, hard reality to take it right out of you.”

Dr. Sellars reached over and, with his thumb, wiped a tear from her cheek that she hadn’t realized was there. It wasn’t like her to cry, and certainly not in front of someone she barely knew. In fact, she could count the number of times she’d cried on one hand, even as a child. She felt the warmth in her cheeks as they reddened.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to get so personal.” She wiped her eyes and laughed. “You know us women, always first to get emotional.”

His demeanor remained serious.

“You aren’t the emotional type, Miss Wright.”

They pulled into the faculty parking lot. “I assume the lone mud-covered Pathfinder belongs to you?” she asked.

“Does that surprise you?”

Aubrey pulled up beside it and admitted, “A little.”

Jullian leaned toward the dash, catching her eye, though she was trying to avoid it. “Magic’s a funny thing. It finds us in the very places we aren’t looking for it.”

“And where is that, Dr. Sellars?”

He opened the door and got out.

Once he was on his feet, he leaned down and rested his arms above the open window. “In the ordinary, the everyday.”

He stood upright and cordially bowed his head,

whispering,

“Sweet

dreams,

Aubrielle.”

She smiled in return and watched in silence as he opened the creaking driver’s side door to the Pathfinder and climbed in.

His words hung in the air, holding with them a feeling of wonder that she hadn’t felt

in

so

long,

it

was

nearly

unrecognizable.

Avalar

Aubrey’s skin still throbbed where she’d pinched herself, which, truth be told, gave her a modicum of hope. “There must be a way. Maybe—”

“No,” Aislinn barked. “Don’t you understand? He knows nothing, recognizes no one and is going to be crowned King.”

He softened his interruption with, “He may already be King. You don’t know what you’re up against.”

She narrowed her eyes, unfazed.

“I’ve read Jullian’s books.”

“The Faerie Queen, Saralia if you care to know her name, has ruled Avalar for centuries, with no one to challenge her.

Considering how long Jullian has been gone, I can’t tell you how accurate those books are or how many details they left out. Do you even know the King’s name?”

Aubrey couldn’t recall mention of a king at all, save one or two brief references to the King of the Beasts, whom Jullian had conveniently failed to name. “No,” she admitted.

Lipsey

jumped

from

Aubrey’s

shoulder to her lap and looked up at her.

“Yes, that’s who we need to talk to, the King of the Beasts, he challenged Saralia.

He could help. They fought, right, Aislinn?

That’s how he got the scar on his nose.”

“Do you remember how long ago that was?”

Lipsey shook his head, his eyes losing their excitement.

Aislinn readjusted his position, seemingly uncomfortable in his own skin.

“Lifetimes ago. Tabor is immortal. He was here when the world began and he will be here when it ends. This is a dark place, Aubrielle. So my condolences, but you’ll never get within a hundred yards of Jullian—that I can promise you. You’d be better off asking Tabor to send you home.”

She nudged Lipsey off her lap and started to pull on the black boots she’d worn to the funeral. She looked up at Lillian. “Thank you so much for your kindness and for the soup.”

Lipsey hopped to the floor and handed her the second boot, nearly falling over from the awkwardness of lifting it over his head. “You didn’t eat any of your soup. Where are you going? Are you going to see Tabor?”

She took a calculated breath, reminding herself that she was, after all, talking to animals. “No, I am going to find my way to the Winter Court.”

Assuming I don’t wake up in an institution first...

Aislinn

laughed,

but

quickly

tempered his amusement once he saw the expression on her face.

She rose and glared at him. “Maybe that’s why it’s so hard for you to imagine a world where magic doesn’t exist.

You’re using it as a crutch. So what if no one has ever defeated her? It doesn’t mean it can’t be done. Have you ever lost your life?” Aislinn didn’t respond. “Does that mean that you can’t?”

BOOK: A Thief of Nightshade
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