Faery Tales & Nightmares (28 page)

Once there, she nodded to Ani and took a seat at the table. She poured two glasses of tea. The first she slid to sit in front of her, the second she handed to Ani. “Queen.”

Ani accepted the tea with a smile. “Olivia.”

“Olivia,” Rabbit repeated.

“Yes?”

“You’re Olivia.” He went to the cupboard to get another glass, but as he grabbed it, the faery—
Olivia
—said, “No.”

He turned.

She held her glass out to him. “You will share my glass.”

Neither Olivia’s gaze nor her hand wavered as he stepped toward her.

“Okay.” He took the glass and drank. As he did so, he felt a strange peace slide through him. He took another tentative sip. “This is … what
is
this?”

“Tea and starlight.” She motioned with one hand, lifting it as if she were able to direct the glass from her seat.

Obediently, he drank the rest of the glass. “Why?”

Olivia shook her head. “If I am to stay, you must get used to starlight.”

“Stay?” he repeated.

“You require me.” She turned to look at the doorway. “I will need the house grown larger and my studio brought here.”

Rabbit looked to the empty doorway as Ani started, “I can—”

Devlin walked in, interrupting Ani’s words.

“What…” Devlin took in the small group. “Livvy?” In a blink, he took the glass from Ani. “Don’t drink that.”

“Why?”

“It’s not for us.” Devlin upended the glass, pouring the contents back into the pitcher.

For a moment, the four of them were silent, and then Olivia smiled at Devlin and Ani. “My studio should be here now.” She looked at Devlin, and when he nodded, she bowed her head to the Shadow King and Queen. “Give the other queen my greetings.”

“You may come to my studio,” Olivia told Rabbit, and then she walked toward a door that hadn’t been there before. It opened as she approached it, lengthening into a hallway.

For a moment, he hesitated, but it was only a moment. “Did Olivia just move in with me?”

“It appears so.” Devlin motioned. “You might want to ask her about the starlight.”

After Rabbit was gone, Devlin turned to Ani and gently suggested, “We ought to leave them.”

“What if she hurts—”

“Ani?” Devlin took her hand in his and pulled her toward the door. “Olivia wouldn’t hurt Rabbit.”

“She might not mean to, but—”

“No,” he interrupted. “She wouldn’t hurt him. I’m not sure she
could
now.” Devlin leaned in close to Ani. “She fed him starlight, and it didn’t injure him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“She gave him some of her energy, her peace,
herself
.” Devlin trailed his fingertips over Ani’s jawline and onto her throat. “They are both being nourished by the starlight that is her essence. She will heal your brother.”

“Why?” Ani’s gaze darted to the doorway that now led to Olivia’s studio. “I’m glad she’s trying to heal him, but
why
?”

Devlin traced the edge of Ani’s collarbone. “Why do you nourish me? Why do I feed you?”

At that, Ani stared up at him. “So they…”

“Are together,” Devlin finished.

“Together,” Ani echoed. “Is that what we are?”

“No.” He brought his fingertips back up the path they’d traced, along her collarbone and to her throat. He paused there. “We are much
much
more than merely together. You”—he felt her pulse speed under his fingers—“are the faery who gives me strength, who gives me reason to wake in the mornings, who infuriates me, who enrages me, who enthralls me.”

“Oh.”

He leaned down and kissed her throat. “You are my passion, my fury, and my soul.”

“Ooooh,” she breathed.

“Shall I explain further?” He leaned away so he could look directly at her.

And his beautiful Hound gave him a dangerous smile. “And to think you used to try to be a creature of reason.” She drew his lips to hers and kissed him with the sort of consuming intensity that was uniquely Ani.

Rabbit stood for a moment, not sure of how to proceed. He understood that something had happened, that it was peculiar to drink starlight, that having a faery decide to move into his home was … unusual. At the same time, he’d become caretaker to his sisters the same way: one day he was alone, and the next he was a big brother, acting as father to two tiny hellions. He was a Hound—not completely, but not mortal. Olivia was not a Hound, but she was very much not mortal.

Silently, Rabbit walked into the studio that was now a part of his house.

My
home.
Our home now
.

She glanced at him, and for a moment, he saw the flash of fear in her eyes.

“Can you tell me your name?” she asked.

What name does she seek
?

He looked at her, the faery who had apparently decided to move into his home, and wondered what he
should
feel. She sang quietly to herself as she began painting on the wall in front of her. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do.

“You are living here now?”

“Yes. With you.” She didn’t look back at him, but her hand stilled momentarily. “Do you know your name yet?”

“My name…”

Olivia made a noise that sounded very close to a growl. “I’ve waited for you for six centuries, but you weren’t born, and then you weren’t here, and now you are.” She sounded breathless now, out of sorts for the first time since they’d met. “I waited. I’ve been patient. I’ve drawn so very many things, but they were not enough.”

Rabbit walked over to stand behind her. Tentatively, he slid his arms around her. “Olivia?”

“I should have another name. I have
waited
.” She leaned back against him, and he saw the starlight trails of tears that slid down her cheeks. “I knew you would be sad, but I would be here. I would make you whole.” She turned in his arms. “I will be whole now. Finally.”

“With me.”

“Yes,” she breathed. Her eyes glimmered with bursts of light, and for the first time, he didn’t try to look away.

“You will be with me, have waited, and we are together now,” he mused.

She tilted her head up, waiting for the kiss that he carefully bestowed. Whatever peace he’d sought, that he’d only that morning despaired of finding, slid from her lips into his body. It wasn’t a forever peace—
not yet
—but it was the most
right
he’d felt since everything had gone so horribly wrong.

Possibly before that
.

He wasn’t fully Hound, but he was Hound enough to understand what Olivia had been waiting for him to figure out.

“What name is yours?” she asked softly. “You know now, don’t you?”

“Husband,” he confirmed. “Mate.
Yours
.”

And his mate began to glow; her skin shimmered with the same celestial light that was always in her eyes, as she stared up at him. “Yes. Husband. Mate. Mine.” She laughed, looking even more beautiful than he’d thought possible, and added, “You are finally home.”

Tears were in his eyes, even as happiness filled him. He’d lost one of his sisters, feared for the loss of one faery who’d been friend and family since his childhood, but he’d found the partner he’d never thought to have.

A mate
.

A home
.

Olivia stood and gently led him to the middle of the floor. His hand firmly held in hers, she said, “Now, we can finally talk.”

And for the first time since he’d entered Faerie, he had no sense of time not because of sorrow, and not because of strange cotton candy skies, but because he was lost in discovering the faery who was to be his mate.

U
NEXPECTED
F
AMILY

“Y
OU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING.” SETH
tossed the letter onto the table and paced the confines of his tiny train-house. He’d been so caught up in faery politics, his ever-changing role in the faery world, trips to Faerie, and his recently
much
improved relationship with Aislinn that he hadn’t thought about the stack of mail that had accumulated at his postbox.

He snatched the letter up and skimmed it again. Words jumped out at him, words he would much rather ignore:
campground … no mail service … wait here for you
. He crumpled it and wished that the calm he felt in Faerie was within reach right now.

“Why?” He closed his eyes and took several calming breaths.

One … two … three… How in the hell am I to get there
? He tossed the letter onto the table with the less frustrating envelopes and back issues of magazines that had accumulated in his box the past few months.

In the last year, he hadn’t often had to think much on his mortal life’s limitations—like the lack of a car. He had money saved, so he
could
fly: his weird fey status meant that he wasn’t sickened by iron like most faeries. He’d never really liked the idea of planes, though. He snorted at the lie he tried to tell himself.
Not liked them
? He was terrified of flying. It seemed unnatural to strap himself into a giant—
heavy
—metal tube and assume it wouldn’t fall out of the sky.

When he’d been fourteen, he discovered that flight was a lot less stressful if he got mellow, but he’d stopped smoking awhile ago. He’d made a point to get rid of his bong and every rolling paper in the train; he wasn’t going to go back.

Flying is out
.

That left a bus trip, a train, or a car. None of those options seemed immediately appealing. Seth shook his head. Even from a distance, his parents rarely made anything easy.

He caught sight of the clock and realized that he was already running late.

Late and bearing bad news
.

“Fabulous,” he muttered to himself as he went down the short hallway to the bathroom to grab a shower.

Thirty minutes later, Seth snatched the crumpled letter, shoved it into his jeans pocket, and headed across Huntsdale toward the first of two places he’d need to go before he could leave town. As he walked, he realized that he wasn’t sure which of the stops would be more stressful. For someone who’d spent the past few years learning to keep his impulses in check, he’d certainly not given his loyalty to faeries who shared that trait. The Summer Queen was volatile, more so now that she was carrying the full of Summer inside of her. It had only been a week since Aislinn had become the sole monarch of the Summer Court and only a couple of weeks since Winter, Dark, and Summer had worked together to defeat Bananach, but already, Aislinn seemed to be more truly fit to her sole regency than he expected. She was still trying to get a grip on having her court’s full strength, but their relationship was everything he’d hoped it could be.

Perfect
.

The other faery I need to see
… Seth shook his head.
That
was far less resolved. The Dark King was steadfastly avoiding him.

One mercurial regent at a time
.

Seth walked up the stairs to the Summer Queen’s loft. Just inside the door, he stopped for a moment, watching her as she laughed with her advisors. Aislinn’s every movement seemed to send little bits of sunlight into the air around her. Looking at her when she was happy made Seth think of photographs of the solar system: she was the sun, and the rest of her court thrived now because she was so vibrant. Looking at her made him want to do anything in his power to make that sunlight turn to him, but he understood the difference between love and enthrallment.
Being her subject would’ve destroyed us
. Being equals made relationships possible.

Of course, that didn’t mean that he was immune to her. As she laughed at something one of the faeries near her said, the sunlight flared in the room, rippling out with her mood, and Seth drew in a sharp breath.

She turned.

In the space of that one breath, Aislinn was across the room and in his arms. Instead of speaking, she greeted him with a kiss that would’ve injured him if he weren’t fey. Sunlight flared around them, rolled over his skin in a wash of pleasure, and made him grateful that he wasn’t shy in public. Aislinn wasn’t an exhibitionist, but hers was a court based on pleasure. Any sense of restraint she’d once had was discarded.