Chapter 24 Lore #2
“I’d watch the sunset, and I’d dream that one day I’d go on a quest of my own.” Teddy wriggled excitedly, wanting more. “Not like this one. I’d just thought maybe I’d get the courage to travel to the capital city. Visit Fable. Fall in love with the kind of man who thrilled me on all levels.”
Except now I’d ended up on a quest that was centered on my worst fears, and I doubted Prince Sloth would permit himself to ever follow his heart, especially after what he’d confessed about how his court viewed love.
“I’m happy you’re here with me, Teddy. I don’t suit being all alone. Which might come as a surprise, considering how much I read.”
We sat quietly for a few hours.
Then, as dawn crawled itself out from the cover of darkness, a figure emerged.
Followed by another.
And another.
“Gods’ blood,” I swore, jumping to my feet. “Will this nightmare ever end?”
I probably shouldn’t ask that sort of thing out loud, lest I accidentally manifest more dark fun.
I’d forgotten all about the cursed specters.
It seemed like I was about to be reacquainted with them soon enough.
“You better hide back with the rest of my magic, Teddy.”
The little shadow seemed agitated to leave me alone but dutifully vanished back to wherever my magic lived.
I set my feet the way Eddie had shown me, preparing myself for the fight that was fast approaching.
The specters moved in a disjointed rhythm, their tiny feet floating a few inches off the ground, red eyes gleaming, and something inside me snapped.
“Nope.”
I wasn’t even remotely prepared to face off against those eerie creatures. They seemed to be slightly different here, thanks to the nightmare realm’s influence.
My survival instincts kicked in, and I spun around to flee, only to collide with an unyielding wall of muscle.
A flicker of hope ignited, my heart racing with anticipation as I drew back.
“You’re—” I began, my words catching in my throat as I choked on my emotions.
But the figure before me was not the prince.
He stood over six feet tall, his broad shoulders straining against the fabric of his tunic. His jawline was sharp, and his piercing gaze brushed past me with a look that bordered on disdain.
I glanced over my shoulder and noticed the specters had vanished.
Wonderful. If the vampire cousins feared this man, I needed to get away from him as soon as possible too.
I stumbled back and he moved with me. I hadn’t expected that.
Maybe I’d imagined it. I moved again and he did too.
Every step he took was deliberate, as if he expected the realm itself to bow before him.
I stopped trying to escape and held my ground.
I did not do well with bossy men. Prince Sloth excluded.
My gaze roamed over the stranger’s perfectly defined features, the deep emerald eyes, the burnished auburn hair, then lingered on the pointed tips of his ears. They extended beyond those of any mortal I’d ever known.
I swallowed hard.
He wasn’t human.
He was Fae.
His attention swept over me with a deliberate slowness, his gaze as sharp as a blade. There was no warmth in his expression, only a cold scrutiny that lingered on the sheer fabric of my top, the dim morning light accentuating its translucence.
“Do you mind?” I crossed my arms.
“Not in the slightest.”
His voice carried a lilting accent I didn’t recognize. Probably because I’d never met someone from Faerie.
Finally, his gaze snapped back to my face with a dismissive flick.
I returned his stare with a hard glare of my own, my jaw set in defiance.
“Follow me,” he commanded, his voice carrying an authority that would brook no dissent.
That was definitely sexier in books. In real life it made me want to stab him.
Repeatedly.
He was out of his mind if he believed I’d meekly trail behind him into some secret Faerie lair after that level of rude scrutiny.
And insane he must be.
Without another word, he pivoted and began to stride away.
What an arrogant ass.
He only managed a few steps before realizing I hadn’t budged.
His shoulders stiffened as he turned back to face me, a scowl carving lines into his forehead. How dare a lowly mortal not fall at his Fae feet.
“Is there a reason you’re not doing what I said?” he demanded, his voice dripping with irritation.
Several.
I met his gaze steadily.
“Probably because I’m not going to follow you. Which you would know if you’d bothered asking.”
His jaw tightened, the muscles twitching under his bronze skin.
With a predatory grace, he marched back toward me.
But I was prepared. In one fluid motion, I unsheathed my blade, holding it firmly in front of me in the defensive stance I’d practiced with Eddie.
Bless that pirate.
If the Fae had been irritated before, his expression now twisted into something far more menacing.
He muttered something in a language I didn’t know, but from the gist of things, I imagined he was cursing.
Frustration obviously transcended language barriers.
He advanced until his chest pressed against the tip of my blade, the cold steel barely indenting his tunic.
“Unless you’ve got an iron dagger, you’re only aggravating me.”
To drive home the point, almost literally, he leaned in, the tip of my dagger piercing his skin. I sucked in a sharp breath and dropped my arm.
Only a complete lunatic would voluntarily stab themselves.
Or, I supposed, an indestructible, pompous Fae.
He gave me a mocking grin.
“Follow me now,” he said with a threatening edge, “or I’ll make you.”
I had a sinking suspicion that hadn’t been an empty threat. I’d read plenty of books with Fae who would enthrall mortals.
A few quick words and gods only knew what this beast could make me do. If our introduction was anything to judge by, it wouldn’t be pleasant.
He gave me a long look, then turned and stalked away.
As I plodded along behind my new best friend, I tried to figure out what book he was from. With such a charming personality, I should have recognized who he was immediately. But, then again, I read so many books about arrogant Fae, they tended to blend together after a while.
I needed more context clues to sort out who he was.
Unless this was some weird hybrid of two stories.
I shuddered at the thought. Given how things were going, I wouldn’t be surprised if my magic was now piecing together a weregod of a tale.
I wondered if my subconscious could activate my dreamweaver power and change stories without me sensing any shift consciously. And if that was the case, then maybe I didn’t need the phoenix tear to help me wield it at all.
It was a scary thought. I felt possessive of the phoenix tear, but more in a way that I wanted to keep it protected.
If the stone wasn’t activating my magic, what, exactly was it for?
Aside from when I started practicing my magic, I struggled to recall if I’d seen any telltale signs of my powers when I’d first washed ashore, but the whole beach had been shrouded in shadows so thick I wouldn’t have noticed my magic swirling around in them.
Sneaky ribbons of doom.
I daydreamed so often, I couldn’t definitively say I hadn’t summoned a new story as I swam to shore either.
There hadn’t been any Fae in the pirate book, only the creepy specters.
And if I hadn’t seen the mini-vamps at the same time Mr. Tall, Rude, and Brooding appeared, I would have thought I’d shifted stories completely.
Which meant it looked like this really was a hybrid story and I had no idea what to expect from him or wherever he was leading me.
But I knew I really didn’t want to find out.
The plot was certainly thickening, and not in a fun way.
My one consolation was that if Sloth had survived the monster attack, there was still a chance we’d be reunited.
Sooner rather than later, I hoped.
Given how poorly things had been going of late, I figured that might be the biggest daydream of all.