The Rise of the Dark Lord Page 8
In fact, the whole of The Gables felt wrong because no one was in it except me, and far, far away from me, Ash.
And I was remembering the last year. How a lot of it had been unfun (electrocution, getting shot at, losing Althea, almost losing Ash, etcetera, etcetera).
But most of it had been awesome.
I was a witch.
I was powerful.
I met Lucy and Josie and Rory and had the best coven in the world.
I fell in love (twice).
I had a dad.
I had a brother.
And the year had also been filled with food and fun and movie nights and girlie chats and magical lessons and comings and goings and excitement and sisterhood and now…
There I was…
Alone.
In the shell of what once was one of the many hubs of my busy existence, and although I had demanded to be treated like an adult, with respect, and be given my due…
I was acting like a child.
Because what was in all of that above?
A lot of I’s.
In other words, I was being totally self-involved.
In two days, we’d be heading down to the Faerie Realm. Some very real shit was going to go down for BecBec. I was going to see Aidan. Aidan was going to see me (and me with Ash, even though we were barely talking).
And I had not allowed myself to process what had gone before so I could step forward with any true purpose into what was coming.
I was clinging to my anger at Aidan rather than realizing I had lost what he might have been in my life, he had lost it too, and I wasn’t moving on from that, for him and for me.
I was clinging to my denial about what happened that night rather than processing that Althea had lost her life so I could do the work I needed to do. She’d done it of her own free will, she’d lived her life knowing that would be her end, she felt it was an honor.
But it was mega upsetting.
Bottom line, I was alone when I didn’t want to be and I didn’t have to be.
On this thought, I straightened from the lounge, went to my bedroom, changed for bed, lay down in the dark with the covers up to my neck and then I did it.
I thought about my black dragon.
Ash’s mind-meld call sign.
I did it just once.
I’d extend the branch (okay, weakly, but I was doing it).
He had to grab hold.
No way I was going to beg (or at least, I wasn’t going to start with begging).
I lay in the dark, with my back to the door, and the time ticked by.
All righty then.
He was pissed and now he was going to hold a grudge.
My stomach started hurting right before I felt him enter the room.
I waited for him to say something.
He didn’t say something.
He didn’t do anything either.
Until he did.
The covers shifted. The bed shifted.
And he fitted himself to my back.
Okay, so somehow after years of picking dickheads, I got a guy who hung up his towel, took a bullet for me, knew when I needed him to be there and then he was there.
And that wasn’t (totally) about our mind-meld.
When he slid his arm around my waist, I asked, “What’s the queen like?”
“She has kind eyes.”
I totally knew it.
Everyone thought she was distant and uppity, but all she looked like to me was a sweet, jolly Granny.
“I haven’t processed Hallowe’en,” I admitted.
“No.”
“I should probably do that.”
“Yes.”
“Althea was kind of annoying, but she was the best wardrobe advisor I ever had and I’m uncertain about all my selections for the Faerie Realm. I could use her about now.”
He had no response. He just tucked me tighter to his body.
Okay, time for the tough stuff.
Or at least the stuff I thought would be tough for Ash.
Ack!
“I miss Aidan,” I whispered.
Ash shoved his face in the back of my hair.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be.”
“I, uh, kinda remember what I did at the hospital after you died.”
“Mm?”
OhGoddessOhGoddessOhGoddess.
Okay, well.
Whatever.
I had to say it.
So I did.
“It was always, um…you.”
He turned me then, and I thought (hoped) he’d kiss me, but he didn’t.
He dug his other arm under me and wrapped both around me so tight, my head tucked under his chin, I was having difficulty breathing.
Weird.
That was so better than a kiss.
Still…
“Ash,” I wheezed.
He released some pressure.
“I…uh, well, Aidan, er…saw that and…”
“Knows it was always me.”
I shoved my face hard into his throat.
“He understands.” (Ash, whispering in my hair—right, then: hangs towels, throws himself in front of bullets, and whispers sweetly in my hair, how did I get this lucky?)
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“I’m scared for BecBec.”
“You should be. There are grave punishments for doing what’s Forbidden.”
Oh boy.
I tipped my head back to look at his shadowed face.
“Like what?”
“You’re vulnerable right now, Matty.”
“Like what?”
“And you’re stubborn all the time.” (Ash muttering)
“Like what?” (Me proving him right)
“She could lose her charge, you, which would be a big loss as you are who you are, and it was a grave honor bestowed on her to be assigned to you.”
I had to admit, I really didn’t know anything about this faerie assignment business, but I didn’t ask after that right then because, well, what Ash was saying would suck and I would miss her (more) if I couldn’t be around her.
I mean, we’d never truly spoken words to each other because I didn’t understand a thing she said.
But I knew two things:
She was mine. And I was hers.
You didn’t need language for that.
Okay, I knew three things:
The last and most important, she’d saved Ash.
So Ash was alive, and if we weren’t talking elfin capital punishment (which was impossible, as they were immortal), at least I could live with that and hopefully BecBec could too.
“Or they could clip her wings.”
I shot straight up in bed and shouted, “Say what?”
Ash sat up too. “Matty—”
“That…that’s heinous.”
“Mathilda—”
“We can’t allow that.”
“If that’s the sentence, we’ll have no choice.”
Oh yes we would.
If they didn’t let her off and they laid that sentence down on her, we were totally breaking her out.
“You know, I can actually feel you scheming,” Ash noted.
“I’m not scheming,” I lied.
“And I can get in your head so I know when you’re lying.”
I said nothing.
Ash pulled me back down in his arms, dragged the covers high to my shoulder and settled us in a way he’d never settled us before.
Him on his back.
Me tucked tight to his side.
It wasn’t The Spoon.
But it was all kinds of awesome.
See?
He was a Master Cuddler.
“Go to sleep.” (Ash being bossy)
“Okay, now that we’ve come to an understanding, we need to come to another understanding. That being you understanding you can’t boss me.” (Me being me)
“We’ve come to an understanding?”
Uh…
>
Was he missing how mature I was being?
I gave him a squeeze as my answer.
“We have a long way to go, Mathilda.”
I pushed up to look down at him. “What’s that mean?”
“The fact you have to ask that means we have longer to go than I thought.”
“Okay then, what’s that mean?”
“Go to sleep.”
“Don’t wanna.”
Okay, all maturity was gone. Now I sounded like Rory.
“Right, then. I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”
“Ash—”
“Goodnight, Mathilda.”
“Ash!”
He rolled into me, which meant onto me, and I shut up.
He was asleep in approximately five seconds.
Fucking Ash.
13 February
Seriously, every time I thought my life couldn’t get more bizarre…
It does.
I’ll take it from the top.
In the summons from the Imperial Order, we were instructed to meet Prunella, the Hag of the British Witches Council (and although she fought on the side of the Modernists in the Battle of The Tor, I had no idea where she truly stood) at a Faerie Mound in the Forest of Dean.
I was a) wary because I didn’t know if Prunella was friend or foe and b) nervous to see Aidan again.
One good thing, Ash seemed chipper (for Ash, which meant his eyes got lazy when he saw it, “it” being me wearing his bracelet).
But me = Basket Case.
Ash and I were first to the Faerie Mound and I could tell right off the bat when Prunella arrived that she and I were of like mind as to what to make of each other.
This didn’t start off great when she looked right at Ash when she showed and demanded, “She knows to behave with the utmost respect in the Realm, I trust.”
To which I pointed out the very obvious, “I have ears, Prunella. You can talk directly to me.”
She also had obvious stuff to share. “You also have a mouth.”
“BecBec did the right thing.”
“The Fae don’t see it that way.”
“Well, they’d be wrong.”
As an aside, while Ash was sleeping and I was semi-fuming, semi-enjoying being tucked under his warm, hard body, I’d figured this out.
I totally had her defense down pat.
But that would come later.
“So in other words,” Prunella said to Ash, “she is not aware she behaves with the utmost respect in the Realm.”
“Take a chill pill, Pru,” I said. “I can disagree and be respectful.”
“You will understand I have my doubts about your ability to do that after you advise me to take a chill pill.”
She sounded so grossed out at having to say these words, I couldn’t stop myself from bursting into laughter.
Though I managed that feat when I felt him.
I turned and watched through the moonlight sifting through the trees as Aidan approached.
Although in the ensuing time between me coming to an understanding with Ash, Ash not doing the same with me (huh), and I’d come up with a defense for BecBec, I had not figured out what I would do to apologize for being so uncool with Aidan after he left.
Though, it turned out, I didn’t have to decide.
When he got close, I took off running and body slammed him with a hug.
Without hesitation, his arms curled around me.
That hurt like hell.
And felt great.
“I’ve been a child.” (Me)
“It wasn’t a good situation for anybody.” (Aidan)
“Seymour.” (Ash, right there, up close—of course, he’d won but it was impossible for him not to piss on his patch)
“Wilding.”
Having made his point, Ash moved away.
I pulled my face out of Aidan’s neck and looked up at him.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
“Do you think we can be friends?”
He looked sad.
But he still smiled.
“Absolutely.”
We broke apart and Aidan held my hand as he walked us back to the Faerie Mound.
When he stopped us, he let me go.
(Wretched)
When he let me go, Ash claimed me by wrapping an arm around my waist.
(Nice)
(Yes, it appeared my conflicting feelings hadn’t evaporated with the resolution to the two-boyfriends issue, and I was beginning to understand what Ash meant about having a long way to go.)
It was then Aidan asked, “I thought we were only going to be in the Realm for a few days.”
“That’s what we were told,” Ash replied.
“Then why do you have four suitcases?”
I bit my lip.
Aidan shot a genuinely amused grin at me.
All of a sudden, I felt tons better.
There’s a lot to get into about opening a Faerie Mound to be escorted to the Realm, and I can dig you might be interested in how one would go about doing that, but for the sake of time, I’ll just go through the basics.
One, Prunella and me had to shroud that area of the forest because when the Mound is open, a shaft of light will come out that’s so intense, it would be seen from space, governments would freak out, soldiers would probably be deployed, and explanations would have to be made.
And I didn’t have a real great batting average with governments of any persuasion so far.
So we were certain to perform the ritual that sealed that area tight.
And as said light was so intense, Ash made me stand still while he stuck two, thick, black pads to my eyes that were taped to my skin (please hold up Urban Decay All Nighter, please hold up) and then tied a thick scarf around my eyes and then set some googles over all that.
I know, overkill.
But also, I kinda liked my sight so I was down with triple protection in order not to have my retinas burned to a cinder by Faerie Light.
I suspected in the time nothing happened between that and Prunella and I calling to the Guardians of the Realm to open the Mound, Ash and Aidan were taking the same safeguards, because suddenly Ash grunted and that was when I heard Prunella say, “It’s time.”
We chanted the elfin chant she’d emailed and told me to memorize.
And it happened.
I had pads, scarf, goggles and my eyes were closed and still…
After a loud rumble that not only assaulted my ears, but shook my entire body, I had to turn away because the light still burned my eyes.
Yikes!
The illumination muted and I heard the Mound close behind us, then a deep, silken, authoritative voice stated, “You can remove those.”
I was a little confused as faeries were wee things with wings that zing, zang, zoomed around and talked in high-pitched, mile-a-minute voices.
So it goes without saying that I was flipped right the fuck out when I pulled off my goggles, the scarf and the eye patches to see the two most beautiful creatures I’d ever laid eyes on in my life.
And that’s saying something because Sir Sebastian Quincy Wilding was my boyfriend.
And Dr. Aidan Knightly Seymour was my kind of ex-boyfriend.
They were both six-five if they were an inch.
Their bodies—and I could see almost all of them as they were on display—were pure, brutal, compacted muscle.
Their hair was long, golden, thick and flowing.
Their ears had points at the top backs, though these points were not pronounced. They were just awesome.
One had eyes the color of glowing amethysts.
One had eyes the color of radiant citrine.
They each had large, beautifully formed wings that were not feathered, they were translucent, but they were beautifully shaded (in yellows, greens and blues—elf with amethyst eyes; oranges, reds and yellows—elf with citrine eyes).
They each also had bands of tattoos that looked like studie
s in runes around their beefy biceps (amethyst elf had tattoos in black, citrine had them in henna).
They were wearing kinda loincloths with longish fronts that had a slant that left one sinewy thigh mostly exposed, came down to the point at the other knee and the material was pearlescent. And on their feet were sandals with thin gold straps that crisscrossed all the way up almost to their groins.
And although their skin was a golden tan, their bodies looked like they’d been smacked with gigantic powder puffs dredged in varying nuances (gold, rose gold, pearl—elf with amethyst eyes; champagne, gilt, geode—elf with citrine eyes) of the shimmer dust women used to highlight their cleavage and cheekbones.
And they were such they could totally pull off shimmers and those loincloths.
Yowza!
“Your female is very beautiful. We have heard this about The Mathilda in our Realm. You will need to guard her,” Amethyst Hottie said to Ash and Aidan.
Wow.
He thought I was beautiful.
I felt Ash’s fingers curl into the back waistband of my cords, and he used them to pull me his way.
“I’m just with him.” I jerked my thumb at Ash. “But we’re like, really, super close friends.” I jerked my thumb at Aidan.
“Super close friends who engage in coitus?” Citrine Hottie asked.
Nosy!
“Um, no,” I answered.
Citrine Hottie looked to Ash.
“I request the honor of engaging in coitus with your female.”
Holy crap!
“Me, as well,” Amethyst Hottie added.
Oh my Goddess!
“Fucking hell,” Ash muttered.
“If you have concerns we will steal her heart with our superb lovemaking skills, you can watch, we will do it together, and if you wish, you can participate.”
Holy Threesome/Possible Foursome, Batman!
I made a strangled sound.
“With respect, no,” Ash said (super low).
They both nodded immediately, apparently no harm, no foul.
Well!
Aidan chuckled.
I shot him a look.
He didn’t stop chuckling.
“Can I see BecBec?” I asked the elves.
They both tipped their heads to the side in confusion.
“You know, my friend. The one on trial,” I explained.
“Bellabeccabec?” Amethyst Hottie asked.
Was that her full name?
Wow, that was a mouthful.