Chapter Fifteen
“Fauna.” He flashed her a cocky grin. He smelled of ashes and smoke, and with his lack of color, that was precisely what he looked like. I could have imagined it, but Fauna seemed to pink slightly as she squirmed beside me.
“You two know each other?” I surprised myself by choking out a question.
The one they’d called Azrames started. His eyes flared in genuine surprise. While Betty’s eyes remained closed, I didn’t miss the way her head had tilted in disbelief.
His sooty brows lifted. “The human can see me?” he asked Fauna. He turned his gray eyes. I shrank under his gaze as he reiterated, “You can see me?”
Fauna answered on my behalf, which was a relief, because I wasn’t sure I remembered how to speak. “It’s why we’re here. And it was sort of a ‘two birds, one stone’ situation. Glad to know her impulse tattoo is working. Betty’s an absolute darling and was willing to help us get in touch with someone from your kingdom.”
He clicked his tongue. “You know you didn’t have to go through all that trouble, Fauna. I would have come for you.”
I choked on my breath. The way he rested on the end of his sentence was borderline pornographic. My gaze shot from him to the fidgeting fae at my side for confirmation that I wasn’t reading into things. Oh yeah. She was definitely red. Perhaps it was my nerves edging me toward laughter, but I had to bite down on my lip to keep from making a sound. I’d never seen her uncomfortable before.
She cleared her throat to gather her composure before saying, “I’m sort of mortal-bound at the moment. I don’t have the luxury of popping through realms while I have this little nuisance at my hip. Speaking of: Az, this is my friend. And, friend, would you like to introduce yourself?”
“I’m Marlow. Marlow Thorson—”
Everyone in the room, Azrames included, reacted. Even Betty, eyes still closed while she remained seated at her writing desk, shook her head in vehement disapproval.
Fauna punched me in the arm. “We’ve had this talk! Twice! You even threw in your family name this time? For fuck’s sake, have you no sense of self-preservation?”
“What?” I demanded, my voice too loud for the occasion. “Am I supposed to lie to him? Do you want me to treat him like the barista and tell him to call me ‘Your Majesty’?”
She made a contemplative face. “Actually, that helps me cut to the chase. Az, how’s the Royal Family?”
His lips turned down. “How did you know to ask?”
I stiffened. To my surprise, so did Fauna.
“Why?” she asked slowly.
He shook his head. “Things are…” He looked at me, then back at her.
She jerked a thumb toward me. “This is the Prince’s human.”
I could have sworn his knees buckled. Azrames’s hands left his pockets as smoky fingers ran through his hair, smoothing it out. He swallowed audibly. “This is…”
“So, you see why I can’t exactly ditch her? It wouldn’t look good for the Nordes’ relationship with Hell. It’d be hard for us to stay neutral if we let a princess-in-waiting die on our watch—or whatever it was Heaven wants from her now that they know.”
My heart hiccupped uncomfortably at her words. The shadows pressed in, everything suddenly seeming a bit too small, too smoky, too claustrophobic. I grabbed Fauna’s arm for support, which she accepted fully.
Azrames took several steps closer. He examined me with cautious respect, then looked at her. “I didn’t realize the Prince’s human had fae blood. I thought it was just your scent when I arrived. It’s been a minute since that chilly pine perfume…” He lifted a hand as if to brush her hair away from her face, then faltered. He lowered it again, dusting the shadows from his monochromatic clothes. He looked at me then and extended an open palm as he said, “It’s an honor to meet you.”
On instinct, I slipped my hand into his.
He pressed his lips gently to my knuckles, shooting painful nostalgia through me at the cool, soothing touch through my spine. He released my hand, then offered me an apologetic smile. “We haven’t seen him. He hasn’t come back from the mortal realms in some time. And if he isn’t with his human—”
“Marlow,” I corrected.
“With his idiot,” Fauna said.
Azrames exhaled before amending, “If he isn’t with Marlow, then I’m not sure where he is. Word is, he hasn’t been in Hell for a while. I’m not high-ranking enough to have access to the information. You should speak to the King. He would want to help you. Not just for his son but for you, Marlow.”
It was my turn to blush. All the air left the small room. I was no longer able to look at his too-smooth face, his mussed hair, or the way his shirt showed his muscles with just a little too much clarity.
Fauna’s face scrunched. “She can’t go into another realm unless she’s bound. That’s why I’m stuck in this flesh prison. And without the Prince to offer passage between realms…”
His jaw ticked while he considered her problem. “And I suppose she doesn’t want to bind herself to you because she’s spoken for.”
My stomach lurched. Spoken for.
Fauna popped a lip into her mouth. She sucked on it idly as she asked, “Is there any reason he might be hiding?”
His chuckle was humorless but not unkind. “Our Prince? No. There’s no beast, curse, or deity that could send anyone in the Royal Family into hiding. He could merely…” Azrames snapped his fingers. “I strike down mortals. The Prince? He conquers deities.”
She frowned up at him, batting her lashes more than seemed entirely necessary.
He rested a hand on the wall near Fauna’s head, relaxing his weight into the space only inches from her while he considered the question. “Could you go as her intercessor? If she’s a Norde, you might be able to act as her mouthpiece?” His eyes lingered on her lips as he said the final words.
“The girl has angels—well, one asshole in particular—sniffing around her,” she said, allowing her gaze to similarly flit to the sensuous curve of his lips.
“Which angel?” he asked, eyes tightening.
“He’s going by Silas these days. Do you know him?”
His dark laugh sent a thrill through me as he said, “We all know Silas.”
“So, you get it. I can’t leave her unaccompanied until we figure out what to do with her. Any ideas?” I could have been imagining the way Fauna’s hips lifted slightly from the wall as if arching toward him, but I didn’t think I was.
“Her fae blood?” he asked, voice dropping an octave as he practically purred inches from her ear. “Was her ancestor given anything?”
I knew they were talking about me and doing their best to be solution-oriented, but I felt like I was watching foreplay. Fauna bit her lip as she stared into the stormy sky within his eyes. His half-smile bore down on her, a sharp canine glinting in the candlelight as if ready to devour her whole.
“Mar?” Fauna asked breathlessly, not bothering to look at me while the nymph eye-fucked the demon lingering over her. “Do you have access to Aloisa’s things?”
My mouth parted, unable to answer her. Though she was trying to help, I felt like I either needed to get out of the room before they started ripping each other’s clothes off or splash Fauna in cold water. I stuttered through the first word, unsure if I remembered how to speak and too distracted to decide if I cared to try. I either needed them to kiss and relieve the tension for the entire room or remember that they were not alone. I wondered what Betty made of all of this. I shot a glance to the woman who still sat at her writing desk, then back to Fauna.
I squeezed my eyes shut, inhaling and exhaling before I was ready to respond. “There’s a cedar chest at my parents’ place. I know my great-grandmother’s traditional clothes are in there. Her bunad is still safe.”
Their sexual tension shattered as they pierced me with their collective attention. Azrames dropped his arm and Fauna angled for me. Her fingers bit into my shoulders as she grabbed both of my arms. “Is there a s?lje pinned to it?”
The question was so specific, so bizarre, that it took me a moment to gather my bearings. I retreated into my memory bank and pictured the things from the old country that my mother had tucked away. I blinked rapidly before nodding. Yes, the traditional silver broach with ornate, spoon-like dangles was an important part of the classic woolen dress. The filigree jewelry was often passed down in traditional Scandinavian families as an heirloom.
Fauna’s fingers tightened around my arms. “This is important, Marlow. If you’ve seen the broach or a picture of it, think carefully—what does the center look like? Is it like a crown? A flower? A pretty shape?”
It took me a second to conjure the image from my memories. I’d snuck away many a time to riffle through the cedar chest as a child, loving the scent of wood and imagining the treasures within as if they were my dowry. I’d always carefully folded everything and put it back exactly as I’d found it before my mother would catch me. But the silver broach stuck out with unique clarity. I shook my head slowly. “No…my great-grandma’s was different. It was something odd…it always looked like…”
“A tree?” she asked breathlessly.
“A tree,” I confirmed.
Fauna released me and looked to Azrames. “I wish I could stay, but…”
He extended his hand again as he’d done for me. When he kissed her knuckles, his lips lingered on her fingers, lifting only his eyes to burn into hers. Her tiny hitch of air assured us all that the gesture had been wildly effective. “I wish you wouldn’t make me wait twenty years between visits, but then again, I know what you are. Only a fool would try to pin you down. Stay wild and free, Fauna.”
With a backward step, he was gone.
The moment he vanished, Fauna released a long-held squeal. Betty broke her meditative state to spin to us. She shook her head with a knowing grin, saying, “Fauna, you really haven’t changed a bit, have you.”
“Breaking hearts and taking names.” Fauna wiggled excitedly. She helped Betty to her feet as we made our way out of the shop. She was still dancing from the exchange.
“Sorry to interrupt whatever that was,” I said, still reeling, “but what the hell does my great-grandma’s broach have to do with anything?”
Betty looked at me. “It sounds like your heirloom is the gift of a thousand lifetimes. It’ll allow you to walk with Fauna between realms, without needing to be bound to anyone.”
“But why would I go alone? I don’t know how—”
“I said the object will allow you to walk through realms without being bound,” Betty said firmly. “I didn’t say anything about not needing to be accompanied. Unless I’m missing something and you know how to jump realms as a mortal. Though you could do worse than bonding yourself to Fauna.” Then to my babysitter, she said, “You have your hands full with this one.”
“Don’t I know it,” Fauna said. Still glowing from her exchange with the man made of ashes and smoke, she said, “Betty, I can’t thank you enough. But you can do something for me?”
“For you? Anything.”
Sincerity rushed through her as she said, “Be safe. The world is a better place with you in it, in this life and the next. Whether it’s robbers or angels—”
“Honey, I know all about the worst the world has to offer. I have wards all over the building. I didn’t skimp on my security system. I’ve got a Glock under the register for hooligans, and for Heaven? I have Azrames.”
Fauna relaxed visibly. Her face softened as she squeezed Betty’s hand. “And enjoy those strawberries.”
We’d barely left the shop before I asked, “Were you talking about past lives? With selkies and knowing Betty and…”
“That’s your first question?” She frowned at me as we fell into step along the sidewalk.
I lifted a single shoulder. I had a million questions, but every chisel at the marble of my understanding would do wonders for shaping my worldview.
She cast a sidelong smirk at me with the ever-present look of thinly veiled impatience before saying, “Some humans are evolved enough to remember each walk. Betty has been around for a long time, and we’ve been friends for her past three or four cycles in the mortal realm. She’s the best.”
I tried to respond but had nothing to say. I had reached my capacity for new, earth-shattering information. I’d reached my philosophical fill.
We returned to the Mercedes, me in stunned silence, Fauna in a combination of flattery over her shameless flirtation and nostalgia given her reunion with an old friend. We slid into the car, but for once, she did not immediately begin smashing buttons. Instead, she asked, “How long’s the drive to your parents’ house?”
My stomach dropped.
This was worse than summoning a demon.
This was worse than stepping on Legos, burning your tongue on your morning coffee, or learning your favorite TV show had been canceled after a cliffhanger. This was worse than a man in a white coat with a clipboard telling me that this had all been a long, vivid delusion.
She expected me to visit my mother.