Faery Tales & Nightmares (35 page)

“Is anyone dead?” Donia asked.

“No,” Cwenhild said.

Keenan put an arm around Donia. “Then why are you here interrupting our
first ever holiday
?”

“Because there were witnesses to your … to… Human video exists of you looking very inhuman.” The way Cwenhild glared at him made Keenan want to either apologize or send her away. His having had Scrimshaw Sisters as nursemaids in his childhood had the unsettling effect of his now feeling guilt when any one of them scowled at him.

“You’ve certainly left me a mess to fix,” she said. “This business of your being
human
is not ideal for our queen. If you were fey, none of this—”

“Excuse me?” Keenan snarled at her. He was grateful then that his temper was easier to restrain than it had been when he was a faery regent, but even so, he had to remind himself that Scrimshaw Sisters rarely wasted time with politeness. He forced himself to say almost calmly, “I am human because our queen was—”

“Explain what happened,” Donia interrupted. “There was a
camera
on the ski slope last night,” Cwenhild announced. “You, my Queen, were recorded creating a building in an instant after standing barefoot in a nightdress in a snowstorm a moment prior. The same video shows that building vanishing. It shows you with him”—Cwenhild nodded at Keenan—“embracing in the snow as an igloo
forms around you
.”

“Oh,” Donia murmured.

Cwenhild continued, “We had to hire
mortals
with technical skills. There is some sort of video page on the computer-net.”

“The internet,” Keenan corrected. “There are
numerous
video sites.”

Cwenhild waved her hand. “The technician said there were many ‘hits.’ This is troubling. I propose killing the video maker, but as it’s a human, I require your consent.”

“You can’t kill someone for sharing a video,” Donia said resolutely. Her cheeks were tinged pink. “I apologize for causing you trouble. It’s the first of Winter and—”

“My Queen!” Cwenhild interrupted. “
You
don’t need to apologize. I’m sure you had good reason to be visible.” She glanced at Keenan and, after a moment, sighed and said grudgingly, “And I suppose you aren’t
truly
at fault. You are human because you saved my queen’s life, and she loves you, and… I’ll find a solution to this exposure before any of the other courts learn of it.”

“Without killing any humans,” Donia reminded her guard.

“As you wish.” Cwenhild paused and shot a hopeful look at them. “I don’t suppose we could destroy this internet thing?”

The laugh that slipped from Keenan’s lips was quickly turned into a cough as Donia elbowed him sharply.

“No,” Donia said.

Cwenhild sighed. “You might want to return home. Many,
many
people are seeing this video.”

Behind Donia, a small group of humans were clustered. One of them pointed at Donia, and a boy who looked of an age with Keenan’s mortal appearance stepped away from the group and began to walk their way. Keenan started to move so that he was between Donia and the approaching boy, but Cwenhild snagged his arm. “No.”

“No?”

“You are
finite
, and you are valuable to my queen.” Cwenhild bodily moved him behind her, and Keenan cursed the scant human strength that made it so easy for her to do so.

She’d do so if I were fey too
, he reminded himself. As an average faery, he’d be weaker than the Winter Court’s strongest fighters. He
knew
that, but logic did little to assuage his pride.

“Get in your car,” Cwenhild instructed. “Sasha!”

The wolf bounded toward her. He looked every bit the feral creature he could be, and Cwenhild—despite her human glamour—didn’t look much more civilized. She towered over the humans, a fierce young woman with corded muscles and an unwelcoming expression.

At the sight of her, the human boy faltered. He looked over his shoulder, and his friends came to join him.

Keenan opened Donia’s door as if there was no alarm, and in reality, there wasn’t
true
danger. Humans—like him—were no match for either of the faery women. The true danger was in gaining too much human attention. He’d lived among them for most of his life and had only the barest brushes of exposure. Now that he himself was human, he’d unwittingly contributed to the largest exposure he’d ever known of.
Video of us
. The wrongness of it all made him feel helpless.

Silently, he slid into the driver’s seat and turned the key. Without any further attention to the words Cwenhild was exchanging with the group of humans, he eased the car around them and onto the road.

“Turn left.”

“Left?”

“Left,” Donia repeated. “I am not going home because of one stupid video.”

“Don—”

“I am on vacation.” She gave him a look, daring him to quarrel, but he wasn’t going to refuse the opportunity to enjoy at least one more day with her.

He turned left.

As they drove, Donia sat quietly at his side. They were almost at the resort when she reached out and took his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” he said tentatively. After a moment, he added, “What are we sorry for this time?”

She laughed, and a small cloud of frosty air brushed his cheek. “For letting my fear keep us from trying to change what you are. I don’t want to make your choices any more than I’d want you to make mine. If I were mortal, I’d risk anything to be with you. I
did
.” She took a deep breath. “I can tell myself that I might not have done so if I’d known how it hurt or knew that it could kill me, but I walked into what I thought was certain death twice out of love for you. I shouldn’t try to stop you, and I shouldn’t expect that you’ll be happy being mortal. I can’t pretend to be mortal. You can’t tell me it’s enough for you … and I don’t want to try to keep my Winter leashed. Last night… I wanted you to be breathing the snow into the world
with me
. At the very least, I want you to be able to be safe from it.”

He steered the car into the resort and waited until he pulled into a parking spot before asking, “Does this mean we can try to make me fey again?”

No stillness in the world could compete with the still of Winter, but he had learned centuries ago that sometimes patience was the best choice. He waited as the car filled with frosty air. He waited as Donia exited the car. He waited as they registered and checked into their room.

Then, she turned to him. “We can look at all of the possibilities before we decide
what
to try, but between the centuries you’ve lived and the centuries some of our friends have lived… I am willing to believe that there is an answer. We can find a way.”

Several icy tears slipped down her cheeks, but when he tried to embrace her, she held up a hand. “Your word that we will only try it if we are reasonably certain you won’t … die.”

“You have my word.” He knew that the things she wasn’t saying were as important as the one she did say: the compromise he’d sought was what she’d accepted. Her other objections—to his servitude, to his pain—were no longer given voice. It was only his death that she was unable to accept.

He stepped forward until the hand she’d held up in a halting gesture was resting against his chest. “Now, what do we do about this video? And more importantly”—he caught her gaze—“can we watch it before it’s gone?”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, but then her serious expression gave way to a mock chastising one and then to laughter. “Did I mention that you are incorrigible?”

“Not for hours.”

TWO WEEKS LATER…

Donia and Keenan watched the “making of the new ad for Evergreen Hills Resort.” In it, they were joined by various faeries pretending to film them, apply makeup, discuss costume difficulties, and one particularly entertaining segment when Cwenhild talked about the fact that their “technical team” and “effects team” refused to be seen on film because of their paranoia that they would be pressured to take on more work than they could handle.

“We thought it was all going to be ruined when someone uploaded the raw footage,” Cwenhild said on the screen. “Luckily, the client thought the viral video was an asset, so it all worked out.”

The video cut to a resort representative who smilingly added, “Everyone who’s been to Evergreen Hills knows it’s an escape from the busy lives we all lead, so we thought we’d use a campaign to show that a visit to our resort is filled with magic.”

Off camera, Cwenhild snorted. “Magic.”

The resort representative sighed. “If you’ve been on the slopes for one of our moonlight specials, it’s easy to believe in magic.” Pointedly, he glanced at Cwenhild. The camera followed his gaze as he challenged her. “Come see us. We can enchant even the skeptical.”

As the video ended, Keenan laughed. “Your plan was genius.”

“I decided what to do with the money from the ad,” Donia said in a casual way. She stepped between Keenan and the monitor. “I bought several houses for the court’s use.”

“With
one check
?”

“Well, no,” she admitted. “I added a bit more…. I thought maybe if we wanted another vacation, I could send
them
away for the week, and we’ll stay home alone this time.”

Keenan laughed again.

“And then, we could go back there on our own….” The Winter Queen nestled closer to him.

He wrapped his arms around her. “Oh?”

“Since everyone keeps assuring me your plan will work, I figure we ought to start planning regular vacations.” She looked up at him. “And you promised me a honeymoon too.”

The joy that filled Keenan was larger than he thought he could contain. “I think we ought to have two of them, one before I become fey again and one after. Everything I—”

But the rest of the words he would say were lost as Donia pulled him to her.

Everything I could want in eternity is possible because of you
, he thought, and then he stopped thinking and simply enjoyed being in the arms of the one person in all of forever who made his life complete.

A
BOUT THE AUTHOR

MELISSA MARR
is the acclaimed author of the
New York Times
bestsellers
WICKED LOVELY, INK EXCHANGE, FRAGILE ETERNITY, RADIANT SHADOWS
, and
DARKEST MERCY
, as well as
GRAVEMINDER
, her first novel for adult readers. She is also the co-editor, with Kelley Armstrong, of the anthology
ENTHRALLED
:
Paranormal Diversions
.

Ms. Marr lives in Virginia. You can visit her online at www.melissa-marr.com or follow her on Twitter (@melissa_marr).

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www.AuthorTracker.com
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O
THER WORKS

Wicked Lovely

Ink Exchange

Fragile Eternity

Radiant Shadows

Darkest Mercy

Wicked Lovely: Desert Tales

(Art by Xian Nu Studio)

Volume 1: Sanctuary

Volume 2: Challenge

Volume 3: Resolve