Chapter 14 #10
“This should slow anyone who tries to rush the wards,” Damian said, crouching to tighten a wire.
“Right,” Michael murmured, his voice thin.
He waited until Damian’s back was turned. Then he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, folded scrap of paper. On it was information about Lucy and the others.
He hesitated.
They’ll be proud of me, he thought. They have to be.
He raised his hand slightly, pretending to stretch, and let the paper slip from his fingers. It fluttered once before vanishing into the grass.
A pulse of light flickered deep in the forest—quick, sharp, and unmistakable. A signal back. He’d been seen.
Michael swallowed hard and forced a smile when Damian looked over his shoulder.
“All good?” Damian asked.
“Yeah,” Michael said, voice steady. “All good.”
Inside, the two halves of him pulled in opposite directions—loyalty and longing, fear and guilt, the boy who wanted to belong and the man who’d been built to betray.
He followed Damian along the tree line, the weight of what he’d just done pressing heavier with every step.
Behind them, unseen, the forest whispered once and went still again.
The Lucent were coming.
Back in the Manor The smell of something savoury drifted through the air.
In the kitchen, Davina stood in front of a pot that was bubbling enthusiastically, her curls tied up, apron far too big for her.
A faint hum escaped her as she stirred, the tune skipping every few beats as she tried to remember the words.
Mary appeared in the doorway, arms folded, an amused look on her face. “There’s no need for you to do that, my love,” she said kindly. “Cooking is my job.”
Davina turned, beaming. “Oh, I know, but I wanted to surprise everyone. I’m setting up a double dinner date for me, Lucy, Corey, and Byron.
Something nice for once. I’ve even made enough for everyone, just in case.
But if it’s all right with you, could you finish this while I start decorating the conservatory? ”
Mary smiled at her enthusiasm. “Of course, darling. I’d be happy to help.”
“Thank you!” Davina said, practically bouncing as she dashed out of the kitchen.
Mary turned back to the pot, tilting her head. “Let’s see what you’ve got here, sweetheart.” She dipped a spoon in, blew on it gently, and tasted.
The moment the stew touched her tongue, she froze. The spoon clattered from her fingers into the pot.
“Oh, heavens—” She coughed and reached for a cloth, her face scrunching. The taste was enough to make her eyes water. “Salt. Bitter salt.” She stared at the pot in disbelief. “What did you do, dear girl?”
Mary looked genuinely horrified. She gave the spoon another cautious dip, hoping it had been a fluke. It hadn’t. “Oh no,” she muttered. “The poor thing worked so hard on this. How am I supposed to fix it without breaking her heart?”
After a moment’s thought, honesty won out. “Better to save the meal and her dignity both,” she murmured, wiping her hands. “Davina, dear! Come back a moment, would you?”
Davina came skittering back in, half-decorated ribbons in hand. “Yes?”
Mary smiled carefully. “Darling, have you tasted your stew?”
Davina blinked. “No, but I followed the recipe.”
“What recipe, dear?”
“This one!” she said proudly, pulling a slightly stained page from her apron pocket. And started reading off the ingredients “Three tablespoons of salt—”
“Three what?” Mary snatched the paper, her eyes narrowing at the smudged print. The abbreviation for “tsp” had blurred, the ‘p’ barely visible. Davina had read it as “tbsp”.
“Oh my god,” Davina breathed. “Three tablespoons?” She dipped a spoon in and took a quick taste, then immediately reached for water. “It’s awful! What am I going to do?”
Mary laughed softly and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You’re going to let me handle it. Go finish setting up and get yourself ready. I’ll make something special for the four of you. Give me an hour.”
Davina’s whole face lit up with relief. “Thank you, Mary! You’re a lifesaver!” She spun around and practically skipped out of the kitchen.
In the conservatory, the cheerful mood dimmed a little as she looked around.
The flowers and vines she’d hoped would make everything magical were drooping, their petals curled and dull.
“Oh no, not you lot too,” she sighed. When she reached out to fix them, her touch accidentally sent a pulse of energy through the stems, within seconds, the blooms twisted into dark thorns and black roses.
Davina groaned. “I forget I’m dark Fae sometimes.” She frowned at the roses. “I mean… it could work, but maybe we need balance.”
She hurried out, searching for the one person who always made things brighter.
Erin was sitting on the floor, humming to herself as she coloured. Davina knelt beside her. “I need your help, my little fairy.”
Erin’s head popped up instantly, eyes wide. “Really? What are we making?”
Davina smiled. “The conservatory needs a little light magic.”
Erin beamed and grabbed her hand. Together they stepped into the glass-roofed room. “So,” Davina said, crouching beside her, “you know I’m dark Fae and you’re light Fae, right?”
Erin nodded earnestly. “We’re just Fae people,” she said matter-of-factly.
Davina chuckled. “That’s very cute, but in the real world, dark Fae cause mischief and mayhem.
It’s sort of in our nature. I’m the odd one out, I try not to destroy everything I touch.
” She smiled gently. “So, how about this? I’ll add my black roses for contrast, and you make everything else shine. ”
“I can do that!” Erin squealed, clapping her hands. “I love flowers!”
And just like that, the two of them set to work, light and shadow weaving together in the air.
Dark vines unfurled along the walls, their thorns softening into delicate curves, while Erin’s touch painted the gaps with bursts of colour: lilies, foxgloves, wildflowers, and hundreds of tiny fireflies that filled the glass room with golden light.
The conservatory came alive, lush and glowing, caught somewhere between night and dawn.
When they finished, Erin ran back to her crayons happily, and Davina stood back to admire the transformation. “Perfect,” she whispered.
Then she straightened and brushed off her hands. “Right. Time to rally the troops.”
She found the boys first. “Bath, shave, clean shirt, both of you,” she said, wagging a finger at Corey with Byron standing behind him. “I want you in the conservatory in forty-five minutes. Don’t be late.”
Corey saluted with a grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
Next, she went to Lucy’s room. Lucy had just stepped out of the shower; towel wrapped around her. Davina barged in, holding a dress over one arm.
“Lucy Morgan,” she announced, “I have a double date planned for tonight. You must dress to impress. Super cute. No arguments.”
Lucy blinked, halfway through drying her hair. “Do I have to?”
“Yes,” Davina said firmly, handing her the dress. “Our boys will be waiting.”
Lucy sighed, amused. “Fine. It’s easier than saying no.”
Davina grinned, satisfied. “That’s the spirit.”
She darted off again, leaving Lucy shaking her head and smiling to herself. Somewhere in the distance, the smell of Mary’s new creation began to drift through the halls it was warm, rich, and perfectly balanced.
Davina added the last touch of colour to her lips, stepped back from the mirror, and smiled at her reflection. The excitement in her eyes made her look younger and brighter. She brushed a loose curl behind her ear, then darted out of her room and down the hall to find Lucy.
When she burst into Lucy’s room, she stopped dead. Lucy sat in front of her vanity, face completely bare, her hair tied back in a casual slick ponytail.
“Lucy, no!” Davina groaned dramatically, rushing over.
Lucy blinked, amused. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I said glam up! This isn’t glam, this is… casual ‘I’m sexy but I’ve got to go to work.’ That’s not the vibe I was aiming for.”
Lucy laughed. “I thought we were having dinner, not walking a runway.”
“Sit down,” Davina ordered, already rummaging through her brushes. “Please, just let me work. Oh my god, we don’t even have time for this.”
She closed her eyes, took a breath, and when she opened them again a faint shimmer rolled through the air. With a flick of her fingers, Lucy’s face transformed under a soft wave of glamour it was dark, dramatic and dangerously beautiful.
Lucy stared at her reflection. “Wow… okay, that’s intense.”
“I know,” Davina admitted, studying her work. “It’s too dark. But it’s a base.” She giggled as she grabbed a wipe and began softening the makeup, blending away the harsh lines and adding a subtle sweep of pink and red to Lucy’s lips. “There. That’s better. You’re beautiful.”
Lucy had to admit it; the woman was good. She caught her reflection again and smiled faintly. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
Davina grinned, pleased. “Last touch.” She loosened Lucy’s tied-back hair, running her fingers through it until it fell in soft waves before slicking it neatly behind her ears. “Flawless. Elegant. Perfect. Let’s go before the boys start eating the furniture.”
She grabbed Lucy’s hand, and they slipped out, shoeless, laughter echoing as they padded down the hall.
The conservatory glowed ahead, lit by the faint shimmer of Erin’s fireflies. The scent of Mary’s cooking filled the air. It was warm and comforting.
But when the women stepped through the doorway, both stopped short.
Byron and Corey were already there, waiting. Each wore a dark tailored suit that fit just a little too well, outlining every muscle and ounce of rough charm they had to offer.
The sight made both women pause.
“Wow,” Corey said, his voice low and a little unsteady. “Davina… do we have to have dinner?”
Davina laughed, walking straight into his arms. “Yes, we do. And then…” she leaned in close.
“You can eat me later”
Corey froze for a second, a grin spreading across his face, he swooped her up before walking towards the main door.