11.
Heather
“
I love you, my foolish little flame. ” Moth’s prickly voice seething through the phone has sent warmth back into my cold body. I can just picture the way his jaw clenched, his red eyes flaring. God, I want him so bad. Even if he can’t understand my genius attempt to bide time.
I wish I’d been able to hear the rest of Holly’s questions. Why would it matter if I agreed to help Magnus? All we said were words; it’s not like I signed a contract.
I try and try to get the call to go through again before conceding and slipping the phone into my bodice. It digs into my ribs, but thankfully, with the way the dress is made, it won’t be spotted. I turn the corner, examining the restaurant. The trouble with it being open air is the exits are both everywhere and nowhere. Plan or no plan, Moth is coming for me. But if there’s a town nearby, I might be able to find someone to help in the meantime. This meal will end soon, and Magnus will want to take me back to his castle…
I spot Magnus—still at our floating picnic on the water. More food has arrived in my absence, and he stares off as if lost in thought. Considering I have a contraband phone hidden in my bodice, I’m glad to have a moment where his full attention is on something other than me.
Moth is right. This is a silly plan, and this is my chance to change it.
My wings stretch out before I can talk myself out of it, and I fly skimming over the water until the restaurant is a blur behind me.
“Heather!” Magnus shouts behind me. I cringe, sparing a glance over my shoulder. Despite being part of the Dragonfly Court, he doesn’t sprout wings and chase me. Instead, he stalks across the marshy ground, hopping from lily pad to lily pad until there’s nowhere left for him to go.
But it’s strange. Something inside me aches, similar to when you leave home and can’t remember if you left your hair straightener plugged in. Why do I feel like I’m supposed to go back?
Shaking my head as if to dislodge the thoughts, I push forward, ignoring the sensation until it’s a dull hum at the edge of my thoughts. My wings take me past overgrown reeds and flowers. Directionless, I dart forward. The water turns crystal clear, reminding me of the way Queen Plume’s portal ripples. The magic that’s used is supposed to stem from this court, right? Maybe the solution is even closer than I thought. I find myself distracted by the way the water shines and glimmers. It’s so hypnotic that I can barely tear my eyes away, which is unfortunate because my wings have clipped a low hanging reed and now I’m crashing into it.
Splash!
I close my eyes tight, anticipating the shaky feeling of portal travel—but it’s just water, and now, not only am I directionless, but both me and my cellphone are soaked.
Great.
“No, no, no, no,” I hiss through gritted teeth, kicking my legs to stay afloat until I get to one of the oversized lily pads to hang on.
Searching the area, I notice a dock a little off in the distance—along with some kind of building beyond it. Maybe I can find someone to help me or, at least, lay low for a moment. I swim toward it, the feeling that I didn’t unplug a major appliance returning the farther I get, not that I have long to focus on it.
Something shifts in the water in front of me. Bubbles rise to the surface, and I yelp, unsure of what kind of predator could be lurking under the surface. Before I moved out of Orlando, we had gators which were bad enough.
I have a feeling anything living here wouldn’t hesitate to eat me. The top of a head rises until a pair of yellow eyes stare into my soul.
“Ah!” I scream, swimming faster toward the dock. I flutter in a vain attempt to fly, but my wings are soaked and heavy. Oh my god, whatever is coming for me is fast. I don’t think I can outswim it.
The creature glides like a gator cruising toward its prey before it rises from the water. I reach the deck’s ladder, but barely have a chance to climb it before a man covered in green scales rises from the water.
“Well, howdy.” And damn, I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a southern accent. The man’s frog-like yellow eyes blink at me, one eye at a time.
“Oh, um… hi.” I pull myself onto the dock, slumping over as I catch my breath. The fish man follows suit, and I wonder if maybe this place is his.
“In a mighty hurry, are you?”
“You could say that.” I shake the water from my wings. “You don’t happen to know how to get to the mortal realm, do you— ah !” A sudden pang shoots through me, and I fall with a thud onto the dock. I gasp, realizing it’s not a hair straighter or an oven I want to turn back for… it’s Magnus.
Gross.
I hate him. I think. I mean—I don’t want to fall into his arms or kiss him, but there’s a need that spreads through me. I feel like if I don’t get back to him, my chest is going to explode. It is as though he is the sole key to my survival.
“Okay, hang on here, ma’am. Take a deep breath—you hurt?” the fish man asks. While I don’t know how I feel about being called “ma’am,” I can’t exactly object to the help. My heart races as he bends low to get a look at me. I manage to take a breath, scanning my surroundings to try to ground myself.
I breathe in the scent of salt water, touch the rough wood below me, and note how beautiful my surroundings are. A cottage sits at the edge of the dock. I think it might look like the kind of place mermaids live, but I don’t have the luxury of marveling at it, not when it still feels like my chest is going to explode.
“One breath at a time,” the fish man urges, his southern twang oddly comforting. He splays out his webbed hand as if to reassure me that he means no harm. “Just stay right here,” he orders before running inside. He returns with a glass of water.
“Gil, pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” He hands me the glass, and despite how shaky I feel, I manage to drink.
“Heather—you don’t need to call me ‘ma’am.” Please.
I’m not sure if it’s the water, or the breathing, but the pressure on my chest lightens. It’s not exactly the ideal time for an anxiety attack, but then again, it never is.
“There a reason why you look like you’re running for your life out here?” Gil studies me as if to check for damage.
“Well, I kinda… you wouldn’t happen to have a portal to the Moth Court, would you?” I sigh. “Or the mortal realm?”
“Depends on how long you can hold your breath.” He looks down into the deep crystalline water—and oh my god, yeah. Unless magic is involved, I don’t think I can swim down to the bottom of the ocean. “You in some kind of trouble, miss?”
“I’m literally being chased by a vampire who is holding me captive right now… so, yes.”
“A vampire —” He draws in a deep breath. “Okay, Heather, is it? Don’t you worry. I happen to know exactly who to get to help—”
Suddenly, we’re eclipsed by a shadow, and when I spin around, Magnus lands on the dock with a thud. The lingering ache in my chest dissipates.
I take a step behind Gil, choosing to trust a stranger over the vampire who has been keeping me against my will. The pain on Magnus’s face makes me almost feel guilty.
“By the four sisters…” Gil groans. Even with his fishlike appearance, I can recognize the posture of someone who is fed up. “Please tell me that isn’t the vampire.”
“That’s him.” I groan, not having time to linger on who “the four sisters” are and what swamp monsters might worship. I cower behind Gil. Not out of fear; I know Magnus won’t hurt me, but I want to do everything I can to create distance between the two of us.
“Why would you act so recklessly? You know the terms of our deal!”Magnus pants. He looks worn out and more than a little disheveled. “Do you not value your life?”
Okay, that’s a tad dramatic, even for him.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, the ache in my chest finally lifting now that he’s back and— oh my God. “You’re the reason my chest felt like it was going to explode?”
“Magnus, you didn’t!” Gil shouts. No title. Just pure exasperation. Gil blinks a few times before turning his attention to me. “You’re that Heather?”
G reat, they know each other. As if that isn’t bad enough, the vampire king’s pining has gone beyond daydreams and a wedding playlist. It’s all a reminder that while I might be counting down to my wedding in the mortal realm, Magnus has sent out his own invitations—and my name is written under bride in both.
“Is she not perfect?” Magnus says softly, and while he still looks unbelievably angry, his gaze softens when his eyes find mine. Gross.
“And y’all in some sort of … agreement?” Gil questions, holding up his hand to keep Magnus quiet. You know what? I think I like him. My thoughts get caught on this whole idea of an agreement. Holly asked almost the same thing before our phone call cut out. That can’t be coincidental.
“It’s not like I’ve signed any paperwork…” I say, searching through the threads of the conversations Magnus and I have had in the little time we’ve spent together for anything damning.
“Heather, my sweet, this is the second time I have stated my very clear intentions.” Magnus pulls at the strands of his red hair. “You have agreed to stay in my castle or at my side—and find me a suitable match by the end of the week.”
“I didn’t think it was binding!” My eyes go wide while I look between the two men. This has to be a mistake.
“How?” Gil and Magnus reply in unison.
“I’m kind of new here, okay!?” I clutch at my chest. I’ve been around faeries for a year now, and while Moth doesn’t remember enough to fill in the gaps, shouldn’t someone have warned me about this kind of thing? If a bargain is as easy as a few spoken words and a handshake, we’re lucky I didn’t get into trouble sooner.
“How do I get out of it?” I ask, panic starting to set in. “Because, full offense: I would rather eat a live cockroach than marry him.”
I don’t need to look at Magnus to know that he’s gaping in horror.
“That should be the easy part,” Gil says through his laughter. He turns to the vampire king, “Surely, you’ll let her go now that this misunderstanding has been—”
“I won’t give up earning her favor just because of a few missteps!” Magnus cuts him off, as determined and stubborn as ever.
“Take. Her. Back!” Gil shouts with the sternness of someone trying to tell their housecat to drop a dead mouse.
“No,” Magnus replies, his tone flat and uninterested. “We still have two days, and I intend to win her over by the end of them.”
“Magnus!” The fish man’s gills flair as he lunges toward the vampire with his yellow claws splayed.
“ What? ” The vampire king narrows his eyes, his teeth bared. “I have been imagining my life with this woman since she agreed to be my bride last season.”
I take a step backward. I’m used to Moth’s grumpy expressions. It can be fun to make him a little angry from time to time, but Magnus is still a wildcard. I haven’t seen the depths of his temper, and I’m not taking my chances.
But it’s Gil who has the advantage here. He leaps in the air with unexpected ease, tackling Magnus onto the deck with a resounding thud.
In mere moments, the vampire king is flat on his back. Hastily, I search the area for an escape, running down the uneven wooden dock toward the house.
“You can’t just kidnap people you want to marry!” Gil shouts, just as Magnus floats—literally floats! —up, knocking Gil off his feet. My new scaly friend, however, is agile and grabs Magnus by the ankle, his claws sinking into the vampire’s flesh. Just like that, Magnus is pulled back down to solid ground and trades blows with Gil on the dock.
“I’m not taking relationship advice from the man who’s been pining over some human for over a decade. You know, if you just —” A splash cuts off Magnus’s words as the two crash into the water. It’s deep, but still they fight just as easily as they had on land.
“Do you know how expensive this coat was?” Magnus shouts, reduced to a whining fashion model as opposed to royalty.
“You’ll buy a new one!” The swamp monster wrestles him under the water.
“It’s vintage!” Magnus shouts when he resurfaces.
In this fight, I’d have my money on him. In the moment, I can’t figure out if this is a brotherly spat or he’s about to murder my captor. Can vampires even drown? I don’t know, but this whole violent scene is making me uneasy.
I don’t want to marry the vampire king.
But I don’t necessarily want him dead either.
“Okay, okay, okay!” Magnus sputters. “You have made your point.”
“So you’re taking her home?” Gil asks, seeming to be ready to call it quits.
“Home to my castle, of course,” Magnus croons. Yup, not the answer Gil or I wanted. Gil dunks the vampire king back under water.
The two spar with violent splashes, and as much as I would love to keep watching this train wreck of a fight, this is my best chance to escape. But the dock is wet and considering I am the clumsiest person I know, I slip right as I reach Gil’s house. The walls look like they’re made with sea glass and shells and hurt like hell when my arm scrapes across them. Just like that, the splashing from the scuffle behind me is replaced by eerie silence.
Rising from the water on what I have to assume are glamoured wings, Magnus floats toward me; his eyes flash an unnerving red, as if possessed.
Blood. I gulp—this isn’t good. The vampire king stares at where the red drips from my forearm. It wasn’t even that big of a scape, but damn, the blood drips pools.
Magnus wouldn’t hurt me, would he?
Gil has climbed up onto the dock, matching Magnus’s stride, and soon, both the men are inches away from me.
“Heather, darling,” Magnus purrs. Yeah, no… I do not like the way he’s saying my name.
“Nope,” Gil says, pushing Magnus back off the dock. “I’ll patch her up. You look for a way to redeem yourself.”
Magnus bobs up from under the water, fully soaked. I’m thankful that when he opens his eyes, they’re the usual purple hue.
“We are in love,” Magnus shouts, not bothering to climb out of the water this time. “She just has yet to realize it.”
“I can drown him if you want,” Gil offers, and I can’t help but laugh at how genuine he sounds. “On a day like today, it would be a pleasure.”
“As tempting as the offer is, my fiancé has first dibs on ripping his throat out.” I shrug.
“I can still hear you!” Magnus shouts, and if I didn’t feel so shaken by the way he had zeroed in on me, I might laugh.
“I was hoping that would be the case, you old bat,” Gil says in a sing-song as he leads me to his home with the gallantry of a knight.
To say the small stilted house is cozy would be an understatement. There is dark wood paneling, and a collection of paintings that look like they have been lovingly collected from thrift shops. The whole place has a dated feeling with the smooth round lamps in pops of burnt orange. I note the sunny yellow mugs hanging on a rack in the wood paneled kitchen. There’s even a shag carpet in the living room, and the furniture looks straight out of the 1970s. But most unexpected of all is the albino alligator comfortably lounging in the middle of the room like a scaly nightmare puppy.
I jump; this is exactly the thing I was trying to avoid.
“That’s just Clawrece. She’s a good girl—aren’t you, baby?” He leans down and says, affectionately scratches under the gator’s chin like she’s a beloved pet, and she must be by the way her mouth lolls open showcasing a row of sharp teeth. Her long white body lounges on the orange rug in a way that reminds me of a creamsicle. Is this adorable or am I losing my mind?
You know what? Could be both. The one thing I know for sure is today absolutely could not get any weirder.
“Can I get you something to drink? There’s water, lemonade, seaweed juice…”
“Seaweed juice?” Okay, maybe it can get weirder.
Gil cracks a smile.
“Had to see if you were still paying attention,” he drawls with a shake of his head. “Make yourself at home. I’ll get the first aid kit.”
And within minutes I’m sitting on a swamp monster’s couch, having my scraped arm bandaged. Considering what my life is like, honestly this all checks out.
“Have you lived here long?” I ask, breaking the silence that’s been surprisingly more comfortable than awkward.
“It was my grandfather’s,” he says, his voice slightly wistful.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“No, he’s still alive, just moved in down the water a little closer to my folks.” He smiles. “It’s a tight-knit community around here.”
His grandfather. Huh, I wonder if that’s who gathered all the vintage decorations. Either way, it’s welcoming and quirky in the way it’s hodgepodged together.
“So, how exactly do you and my kidnapper know each other?” I ask as he skillfully wraps my arm. Given the whole fae thing, it shouldn’t take long to heal, but I’m not exactly eager to get back to the tower. After this little stunt, I’m sure Magnus isn’t going to take his eyes off of me.
“Magnus grew up attending most of the big parties at the Dragonfly Court,” he says.
“And you?”
“Grew up sneaking into them.” His smile echoes the childhood mischief of his past and makes me curious just what kind of trouble he and Magnus got into together when they were kids. The flicker in his yellow eyes is almost gold in the sunlight, and even with his scaly appearance, I can totally see his charm.
“He was always a quiet kid, loved his books and his hobbies. I suppose that’s what happens when you spend most of your time alone,” Gil says as he wipes down my small wound with something that stings. “I was always able to find enough mischief for both of us. Now, it seems he’s finding it all on his own.”
“Wait. Isn’t he like, thousands of years old?”
“Magnus? Gods no.”
“But you called him old bat .”
“Because he’s two years older than me. I can’t imagine how insufferable he’ll become by the time he’s a thousand—though I won’t be around to see it. Thank goodness, huh?”
I nod. Moth and I have only briefly gone over the specifics of faerie lifespans and we can stay old and hot forever-ish. Vampires seem like they might be even more invulnerable. But what does that mean for someone like Gil?
“We Gillerians have a lifespan closer to a human’s in the peak of health. We make it about one hundred years, sometimes a little older,” he offers, seeming to read my mind. Which isn’t something I think he can do, but nothing would surprise me at this point.
“So, you’re called Gillerians, and your name is Gil?” I ask, hoping it’s not rude. Moth is the prince of the Moth Court and while his name is something I picked for him before those memories returned, I’m not one to judge something for being on the nose.
“Full name is Gilbert,” he says with a sheepish look. “Family thing. Anyways, one hundred years might not seem like much to a faerie, but I’m more worried about living without my love than dying.” He, wistfully looking out the window toward the sparkling water.
“She’s in the mortal realm?” I ask. I overheard Magnus making some kind of crack during their fight, but it was hard to figure out the meaning without context.
“Marina,” he says through a drawn out sigh. “It’s been so long; I’m not sure she’d even remember me.”
“What’s she like?” I ask, because honestly, I love love. From what I’ve seen of this swamp monster, he deserves happiness.
“She’s like—” His lips turn downward, and he shakes his head. “Well, she was brave, kind, so kind , never thought twice about my scales or—” He ties off my bandage with a bow before patting my arm lightly. As if to tell me I’m good to go.
“We met as children. I thought she was the most beautiful girl…” He shakes his head, placing his webbed hand on his heart. “I don’t know if or when I’ll see her again, how we’d feel about each other. But there’s some kind of love that’ll always be etched right here. She probably wouldn’t even recognize me.”
“I think you’d be hard for a human to forget.”
“Well, then—when I find her, that means I’ll have a chance. Even if it’s just at friendship.”
“Yeah.” I smile, flexing my freshly bandaged arm. “I’ll be rooting for you.”
“And I do appreciate that.” His eyes glimmer for a moment. “Now, ask whatever question is hanging on your lips.”
“You said something about the four sisters?” I ask. “I’ve never heard anyone from the Moth Court talking about worship, but they sounded like … goddesses?”
“The faeries don’t tend to worship much apart from themselves.” He shakes his head. “Magnus included. But it’s a tradition we have in the water. The sisters represent each season; there are festivals, mostly an excuse to see family and eat food.”
“Those are the best kind of holidays.” I smile. “I shouldn’t ask, but you said Magnus was alone a lot growing up. Why?” Knowing what Moth’s told me of his childhood, just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean you have an easy road. But Moth had friends like Ruby, Oak—and romantic flings with almost every person I’ve met here. He may have been lonely, but he wasn’t alone—not all the time, at least. Magnus might be a different story.
“That happens when a kid feels like a spectacle everywhere they go,” Gil answers with a thoughtful hum. “His parents split when he was young. Magnus’s father was the sort who only wanted perfection, you know? They kept him in lessons—by the time we met, he could perform every formal dance, speak multiple languages, and play any instrument you could think of. He was painfully shy, and surrounded by people who never said ‘no.’ Which is why he’s probably drawn to people like you and me. The personality he’s normally showing is just another dance.”
“So, he’s not usually like this?”
“Not always.” Gil rises from the table, walking to a small shelf. He snags a framed photograph. There seems to be a lot of human touches to this place which makes me wonder who they’re for and how they got here.
“A photo from one of our celebrations,” Gil explains with a wistful smile. “We’ve spent a lot of time together. He was the one who consoled me when I had my first heartbreak, and I’m the one who’s been telling him to just be himself; sometimes, I think he’s forgotten how. Things changed when he went to live in his big dark castle. ”
“Burn down the spooky dark castle—got it,” I say, knowing that isn’t the point Gil is trying to make but unable to muster up any more empathy.
“Won’t help much. He’s become more withdrawn since becoming king.” He sets the photo on the table and packs up the first aid kit. “He shows up here when his head gets stuck too far up his ass and I throw him into the water.”
“So that…” I point out the window toward the dock. “Was a normal thing?”
“Mmm,” he hums thoughtfully. “I’d say you got the special edition show, but we spar like brothers when he needs some sense knocked into him. I’ve become some kinda unwilling advisor, and I can’t say I love it—but I do love him like family. Now, make his life hell, Heather.”
Wow, was that a lot of conflicting messages!
“Why don’t I hate him?” I ask. “I keep toeing the line of being mean then helpful. I had this whole silly plan to set him up with someone else, but I should hate him, right? Is this a part of the bargain?”
Gil smiles, shaking his head. “Nope, that’s just Magnus.” Great, if it was a part of the deal, at least I’d have an excuse. What can I do to make Magnus want to let me go?
You’d think me not wanting anything to do with him would be enough. Magnus doesn’t feel like he could ever be boyfriend material—for me, at least. In any other time or realm, he would be friendzoned no matter how handsome he is.
Gil and I walk outside together, clearly in cahoots, and Magnus groans at the sight of us.
“You’re supposed to be my friend, you know,” Magnus grumbles, stalking back toward us like a drowned rat.
“And I’m having second thoughts on that every minute I have to look at you,” Gil says. I can’t help but laugh.
“Now, are you ready to go?” Magus asks, holding his slimy hand out to me. I stare at it, unwilling to move.
“No.” I shake my head. I’m not moving an inch until he breaks this deal—and from the way Gil steps in front of me, I think he agrees.
“I can’t in good conscience let you take this lady anywhere,” Gil says. The threat, combined with the accent, makes me wonder if he’s going to challenge him to a duel at high noon. Which, honestly, I would be totally here for. A southern gentlemen, why couldn’t I be trying to set this guy up?
Even with the scales, I think he’d be an easier sell than Magnus. Whoever Marina is, I hope they find each other again.
“So, what? You’ll keep us here until I agree to break our contract? No, I don’t think so,” Magnus replies. He’s standing tall and clearly not going to back down here.
“Do you want me calling the whole family in on this? You think you can outswim us all?”
“No,” Magnus says, and there’s a panic on his face that makes my hair stand on end. “But I can fly.” It all happens so fast: a gust of air, Gil falling backward, Magnus striking him with a rock in his fist. Oh my God!
I’m sorry? Aren’t they supposed to be best friends?
Then I’m in his arms, being launched in the sky with such speed I can’t even scream, the wind knocked out of my chest.
I thought I was safe. I thought he wouldn’t hurt anyone. But now—
“Stop!” I finally manage to get a hold of my voice. I push at him until he releases me, and I plummet downward before I’m able to catch myself with my own wings. Panic pulls at my chest; will I survive if I try to run again?
“Heather—”
“What the fuck ?!” I scream, and no—no, he seriously didn’t just knock out his best friend in the name of keeping me his captive. “Say the words. Release me from this pact or whatever right now !”
“He should not have stood in our way,” Magnus says dismissively, his eyes level and angry. Is this who he really is? It’s not at all the pathetic lovestruck snake I’ve painted him as. This man is ruthless.
This is the vampire king.
As he hangs in the air before me, light shines through his now exposed wings. They’re thin and dragonfly-like, albeit iridescent with the scalloped edges and veins of a bat. He flies well, but they’re almost too small for how broad his shoulders are. They remind me of something you’d buy in a pinch before a renaissance faire without checking the dimensions online.
His pupils grow until his irises are barely visible. I wonder how often he lets himself be seen in this shape, and at the same time, I don’t care at all.
“The swamp creature has taken worse blows than that,” he assures me, tugging at my wrist, but I fly backward, unwilling to let him take me anywhere. “He’ll survive.”
“You can’t make me come with you,” I say with all the defiance I can muster, but I am exhausted, and it shows.
“No, but you will follow.” His voice is pure venom. “Or do you really want to see how far you can get this time?”
“I hate you.” I hope he can tell I mean it.
“Yes.” He nods, a hint of the sadness I normally see in him has returned. “But you’ll come with me all the same.”