accidental 11 - accidentally ever after (25 page)

BOOK: accidental 11 - accidentally ever after
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Her heart crashed against her ribs as a man with a trumpet took his place at the top of the steps. They were getting ready for announcements—which meant the king would be taking his place on the throne directly at the other end of the ballroom at any minute.

If she could just get to him before he became involved in the evening’s activities, she might have a shot at finding Jon—or at least explaining her circumstance.

It had to happen as soon as possible so he could grant the women their wish to go home, at the very least. Forget about her and her happy-sappy whatever. Nina couldn’t hold out much longer, and Toni would do everything in her power to make sure she saw the king ASAP.

She turned to Nina and pointed toward a potted pine tree dotted with silk bows in gold and silver just outside the ballroom doors. “Okay, you stay here and wait for Marty and Wanda. Sit on that fancy chair and don’t move. I’m going to try to hit up the king before this shindig begins. Maybe he can help me find Jon.”

Nina shook her head and gripped Toni’s arm with the weakest grasp she’d displayed since they’d begun this whole thing. Glowering down at her, she said, “Not gonna happen. We stay together or we don’t do it.”

Marty and Wanda flew down the wide staircase, out of breath, their dresses floating behind them as they rushed up to them. Marty’s eyes went wide when she saw her friend. “Nina! What the hell happened to your nose? Can’t we leave you for five seconds?”

“Shut up, Blondie, or I’m gonna clip those wings!”

Toni ignored Nina’s outburst and looked to them with hope. “Anything?”

Marty shook her head, her cheeks flushed and what looked like vanilla icing at the corner of her mouth. “No, but we heard the craziest story. Apparently that Angria who wants your head? She’s got more trouble than just you, kiddo. The king called off an engagement between her daughter and the king’s son, Prince Somethingorother. The cook claims that the queen’s daughter was supposed to marry the prince since their births, but the king called it off because his psychic or whoever said the queen’s daughter isn’t his one true love. Or something like that. They say tonight is the night this psychic is supposed to reveal who the prince’s true love is. Anyway, it’s all the talk in the kitchens, where, I might add, they have the most fabulously moist cake I’ve ever stolen a swipe of frosting from.”

Wanda licked her thumb and wiped Marty’s mouth. “This has something to do with you, Toni. I know it does. I just can’t figure out what.”

Toni shook her head in confusion. “That can’t be right. What do I have to do with King Dick’s son? Nothing. That’s what. Now, you three stay with Nina. I’m going to go find out if I can’t get the king to see me so I can figure out how we might go about getting you three home, pronto.” She turned to leave, but Wanda grabbed her by the arm.

“Um, no. You go nowhere alone. Are you forgetting this queen wants your head? Are you forgetting she’s sent out every jackhole from here to eternity to try to stop you? I’m telling you—this little castle drama has to do with
you
. I feel it in my gut. So if we go, we go together. Marty, you stay with Nina and Carl.”

Nina grabbed Toni’s hand just as she was about to make her way inside the ballroom. “Listen to me, kiddo. Shit feels off. Wanda’s right. I know my vampire senses are all fucked up here in Never-Never Land, but I just have this bad damn vibe I can’t shake. You keep your eyes and ears open. Don’t leave Wanda. Got that?”

Toni tugged one of her beautiful curls and smiled, trying to keep her hands from shaking. “Got it, Fairy Godmother.”

She and Wanda clasped hands and began to fight their way into the ballroom, past the dozens and dozens of servants milling about, setting tables and fluffing flowers, while Toni tried to shake off the same bad vibe she was apparently sharing with Nina.

* * * *

Just a little more,” Jon urged Dannan as he reached his long fingers between the thick bars of the cell to try to retrieve the keys.

Dannan grunted as he strained to yank them from the unconscious Günter’s waist.

“To the left, my friend. The left,” Jon directed as he stood on top of the lone barrel in their cell, looking out into the prison’s exterior.

The ogre’s blue fingers swept across the dirt floor, stretching, reaching, all while he grunted.

“How did ye know about the guard’s distaste for the sight of blood, ogre?”

“Ye trained with him often while I watched from the woods. When one of the lads was nicked by his opponent’s sword, a mere scratch if ye were to ask me, the boy fell to the ground as if he’d been gutted like a fish when he looked upon a single drop of blood.”

Jon looked down at the deep gash in his arm from Dannan’s teeth, where he’d bitten him in order to draw enough blood to frighten Günter into passing out. “You bit me, Madman.”

“I did. ’Twas delicious. Should I ever go back to the ways of the old order of picking humans’ bones clean, I’m comin’ for ye, lad,” he said on another grunt as he finally got ahold of the keys. He swung them around his finger with a grin then tossed them to Jon.

Jon reached between the cell bars and unlocked it, letting it swing wide as Dannan spilled out of the cramped space with a loud moan, crashing to the hard dirt floor.

Jon dragged Günter to the far wall of the dank cellar and sat him in a corner, straightening his jacket for him before giving the guard a pat on the shoulder and muttering, “Sorry, friend. I’ll make it up to you. Merry Christmas to you and yours!”

Dannan clapped him on the shoulder. “Leave him. He will recover. We must go, lad—the hour has just struck nine!”

As they made their way through the maze of the prison beneath the castle, ducking one lone guard and taking back his sword from the artillery room, Jon could only think of one thing—he would either always remember this moment because he’d won the heart of the woman he would love eternally.

Or she was going to, as Nina said, kick his ass to the curb and return to her land of Jersey without ever looking back.

* * * *

Toni began to make her way through the crowd, her eye of the tiger on the king’s throne, still empty. The crush of people entering the ballroom thickened, swirls of colorful dresses and men in formal jackets crowded her path as they all waited to see the king’s entrance.

Wanda clung to her hand. “Slow down,” she warned, just before Toni heard the soft sound of a piccolo.

She cocked her head and listened again, closing her eyes and inhaling the musical magic.

She knew it was a piccolo because in eighth-grade music, she’d been assigned one and she’d sucked monstrous balls at it. However, whoever was playing it would have garnered an A from crabby old Mr. Bartowski.

Her hand was somehow separated from Wanda’s as she crowd swelled, swallowing her up and Toni followed the sound, unable to stop herself.

Maybe it was Jon? Harps were usually the instrument of choice for her True Love Top Forty, but she couldn’t take a chance it wasn’t him somewhere in this vast room. Maybe one’s true-love tune changed when they were in someplace as grand as a castle?

So she followed the sweet strains out of the ballroom, down a long hall, powerless, mesmerized by the sound, her heart pounding in the hopes she’d find Jon and they’d fix this misunderstanding.

She was convinced that was what it had to be. But wait. Maybe he didn’t hear music or see halos glowing over
her
head. Maybe he was her true love and she wasn’t his?

Yet, suddenly, it didn’t matter. The beautiful tune lulled her, pulled her toward it until she was in a room with a man standing in the shadows cast by long curtains hanging from the floor to ceiling windows, the silhouette of his piccolo evident in the dim lighting.

“Jon?” she asked, knowing it was ridiculous. This wasn’t Jon. He was too portly, his jaw too slack.

He spun fully around, letting the piccolo in his hand fall to his side. He puffed out his chest and smiled at her, drawing her to him without saying a word.

Her feet began to tingle, making her question who this man actually was, but his smile was so serene, his face warm and inviting, that she couldn’t help but move closer.

He bowed regally, his silver-white hair gleaming, his sweet blue eyes twinkling when he raised his head. “Welcome, milady. I am Sir Kenneth in the Key of G. And you are?”

She did a clumsy curtsy, reaching for the back of a chair to steady herself as she wobbled. She really needed to work on her curtsy. “Toni Vitali,” she murmured, hearing the words escape her lips, but they sounded foggy and muted.

“’Tis a pleasure. I hope you’ll enjoy my happy tune,” he said before placing the piccolo to his mouth and playing another melody.

As he played, he wound his way out of the room, his feet light, his white stockings almost a beckoning beacon.

Toni couldn’t look away. The tingle in her own feet roared, yet it only felt like a distant nudge, one she successfully ignored as she followed Sir Kenneth, needing him to continue playing—to continue feeding her this amazing gift as it floated around her.

Her eyes glazed over as his back became blurry, tilting and swerving along another long hallway. Yet, she continued in his wake, compelled to reach him, but he only seemed to get farther away.

No! He couldn’t get away. This music gave her life. She
needed
it!

The music began to whirl around her, as though it had become a wave and she was driftwood lost at sea, bobbing, weaving. The melody took her to a place she was almost sure she didn’t want to go, but couldn’t seem to stop herself from propelling forward toward.

And then the melodic, mournful tune stopped completely, and so did her feet.

When the haze cleared and her eyes focused, she had one thought as she scanned the room.

The fucking Pied Piper. Goddamn it! She might not have her fairytales entirely straight, but she knew this one. He’d led her like some lost lamb straight to the lion’s den.

A maniacal cackle grew until it bounced off the room’s walls, and then a husky, sultry voice said, “I’ve got you now, my pretty. I’ve been waiting for you!”

* * * *

“Wanda!” Jon managed to grab her arm as he pushed his way through the throng of incoming guests, keeping his face tucked into the hood of his cloak.

She whirled around, her bell-shaped dress swaying, her wings fluttering. “Jon! Oh, thank God. Where have you been and why are your clothes dirty and torn?”

“’Tis a long story—one I shall share with you all as soon as I can. Where’s Toni?” he asked, his eyes scanning the vast room frantically for his beloved.

Wanda gripped his arm, her eyes filled with a worry he didn’t like. “I’ve lost her! She was going to try to see the king before our appointment to ask after you, but I lost her in the crowd. I don’t know where she is and I’m panicked!”

Marty flanked him as she rushed up and gave him a hurried hug. “Where the hell have you been, Prince Charming? You had us all worried, not to mention Toni’s beside herself. Speaking of, where is our fair maiden? It’s almost time to greet the king.”

Nina knocked him with a weak fist between the shoulder blades. “Dude! Why you gotta create so much drama? Jesus. Is it that hard for all of us to get this shit together? Lemme be clear—we need to stick the fuck together, Flawless!”

Jon gave them a quick bow. “My deepest apologies, maidens. We were thwarted by the king’s guards, and I promise to tell you all about it, but for now, we must find Toni.”

But horns began to blare a familiar blast of announcement, sounding out the king and queen’s arrival.

As the crowd parted, hushing in reverence, King Dick and Queen Jane appeared at the top of the long staircase and, arm and arm, they made their way down.

Wanda gripped his arm, leaving him no choice but to stay right where he was as the royal couple proceeded down the stairs and moved toward the throne.

He let his eyes fall to the floor, waiting until the couple passed before he tried to move silently away from the crowd. But Marty clung to his other arm, her grip literally like steel. If her powers were weakened here in the realm, then he was but a mewling kitten compared to them.

“Stay put, buddy. I’m not getting my head chopped off because you committed some royal faux pas. Plus, hello. A real live king and queen!”

He would laugh if things weren’t so dire—because on cue, Prince Iver Daring appeared at the top of the stairs, ready to make his descent to his chair beside the king and queen.

As he did, moving slowly down the procession aisle, his coat gleaming under the light of the torches, his hair pulled back from his face in an ebony ponytail, it wasn’t until he was just a hair past them when all three women gasped.

And that was when Nina grabbed him by his shirtfront, lifting him high in the air, her face a mask of anger as she yelped, “Who the fuck are you, Jon Doe?”

Chapter 15

L
ong fingernails scraped beneath her chin, their tips digging into Toni’s flesh as she tried not to wince. She lifted her chin, looking up and asked, “Queen Angria, I presume?”

The queen stepped backward a few feet and tossed her crowned, inky-black head on her shoulders, laughing again, that same bone-rattling masterpiece of a cackle she’d screeched just before she’d waved her spidery fingers in the air and glued Toni to the chair she was now unable to move from.

The queen’s razor-thin black eyebrow rose haughtily, the high collar of her silk gown just grazing her pointed chin. “My name precedes me, eh?” she asked, her voice husky, her words precise.

She swept back across the room, the tail of her black and deep-purple dress following in her wake, to stand before Toni, searing her with her gaze.

Toni lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing as she tried to peek over the enormous skirt of her dress. Yet, she wasn’t afraid. Why wasn’t she afraid?

“Well, your henchmen do, anyway. You sure don’t kid around when you want something, do you? Dragons and Starbucks and truth fairies and smelly guys with glowing eyes. Heh. That rhymes. Anyway, it was a lot. Just so you know, you have the market cornered on creepy employees. Anyway, let’s cut to the chase. What do you want from me? I never got to the part where I had a conversation with any of your bad guys so we could discuss your terms. It was all rawr, and hiss, and poof, you’re now the Truth Fairy.”

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