Chapter Six #2
He swears again, rubbing his jaw with a rough hand. We stare at each other. Finally, I slip the coin into his palm. When he holds it up to the dim light, the silver shimmers.
“Avery, no.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t take it.”
“I can’t give it to Benji; there are no tips in the stables. The teller will assume he stole it. But you—you’ve been a servant in the palace for years. Someone could’ve easily offered silver for your silence.”
“Like someone did for yours.”
Something sharpens in me, a frustration I’ve never felt toward my best friend.
“Just let me help, okay?” I snap.
His jaw sets. “Like how you’ve let me help these past few years?”
“That’s different.”
“How? Planes, it’s as if you want to be caught.” I step back, and he takes a breath, his voice softening. “She didn’t die because you failed in some way, Avery. It just happened.”
My eyes burn. “Take the coin. Please.”
“Okay.” He slips the coin into his pocket, then gestures to my chamber door. “You were looking to rest?”
I was, but now adrenaline sparks in my veins. I don’t want to slip inside to a privacy I’ve never known. To hear the ringing silence in my head, feel the supernatural baubles form in my throat. To be haunted by the overwhelming power of the High Fae, the sound of Kassandra’s bones breaking.
“The silver stallions in the stables,” I say instead. “Are the rumors true?”
“Their coats do seem to glow.”
“Are any available for tomorrow? I need one for Kassandra during the coronation.”
He eyes me, brow furrowing. “All of the silver stallions are off with the halflings on guard duty.”
“Then a silver mare will do.”
“I’ve only heard of the stallions.”
“How do you think they make them?” I smirk. “Don’t you know where little faeries come from?”
Jeremee flushes. “I know how breeding works.”
“Breeding!” I exclaim, a hand to my chest. For a moment, the heaviness lifts, laughing with him an addictive, dangerous high after so many lows. “I pray to the planes for the females you bed.”
“Why’s that?”
“They must love the mounting.”
His eyes flash. “They do.”
A familiar vision sparks, one I have never acted on.
His long, tattooed fingers sliding through my hair, tugging me into him, his lush mouth descending onto mine.
Those hands spinning me around, pinning me to the wall, pulling down his trousers, pulling up my skirts.
Something snags in my belly at the image, the gateway into a moment of distraction that could build to other moments in shadowy corners and stone corridors.
The dark hallway is quiet, except for the sound of our breathing. He leans against the opposite wall. I cross my legs, pressing my thighs together. His gaze dips down my body, then back up again.
“You’re thinking of us right now,” he states. “Together.”
“Have you abandoned all manners?”
“Do you want me to?”
How much closer can we crawl, on hands and knees, to the line without crossing it? Who will be the first to break the rules so that we can form new ones?
“Seems you already have,” I answer. “What are you thinking, Jae?”
He quirks a brow. “I’m wondering if you’ve ever been taken from behind before.”
Desire coils low and hot. I can hardly breathe. This is the closest we’ve ever gotten.
“I don’t like to share,” I say. “Only steal.”
“Especially my prospects from the festival. Tell me, are you truly satisfied afterward? Is it ever enough?”
What are we doing? I think. Why now?
I want to be with Jeremee, the invitation to my bed a second from escaping my lips. But he’ll see my battered body. He will feel the shake in my hands. When he wraps long arms around me, will I think of Dominik?
Are you afraid, little faerie? The feel of those icy fingers. A flood of last night’s memories. My best friend stepping closer, eyes heavy-lidded, and my bruised chest heaves.
Am I still the day faerie from yesterday? Am I something less, and the male in Jeremee can sense it, ready to pounce on a thing that will lie down?
Is it scared or turned on?
I grip my door handle, and the heady air dries up.
Jeremee stops, blinking, as if the spell has been broken. “Avery, I’m…confused.”
Me too, I want to cry. We are pulling in two different directions—him spiraling into an Unluckie, and me soaring into an elusive Night Crest.
When we are together, I want it to be a beginning, not a goodbye.
I clear my throat. “The silver mare.”
The heat dies in his eyes, in my chest. He looks down the hall toward the light of the stairs, the sounds of the Nest below. “What about it?”
“Once the lady approves, I can share the plans.”
“Is it safe for Benji?”
“Absolutely. I promise.”
“Okay, then.” He scratches the back of his head. “I guess I should get going…”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say.
He nods and turns away, descending into the Nest. He doesn’t look back.
The only other time we have come close to crossing the line had been after my mother died. I had reached for him, tear streaked and in mourning attire, but he had gently refused and guided me to bed, tucking me under the covers, and left.
We’ve never talked about it since. He was a safe harbor after her death, when I needed him the most. Sometimes I wonder how much grief plays a role in our game, for him and for me.
He lost his own mother shortly after Benji’s birth ten years ago.
Grief spoiled my magic, my personality, and shrank my world. What has it done to him?
Unlocking my empty room, I undress, fingers grazing tender flesh in the shadows. I want to peel off my skin, layer by layer, to find the depth that Dominik has not touched, to escape the sound of bones snapping.
As long as the Illusion heir torments Kassandra, she will torment us, levying violation after violation, setting back any financial progress.
But the opposite could be true: If I could ensure her safety and happiness, perhaps that would trickle down to us.
Perhaps she would even consider revoking the complaint against Jeremee, if such a thing is possible.
Tomorrow, Briar, Jeremee, Benji, and I will help her excel in the one area that might release her from Dominik’s grip and into the cushy embrace of royalty, bringing us with her.
Her prospect to the king.
We’ll pull together a great performance, flicker enough light and shadows for it to seem real. This is the House of Illusion, after all.
All Kassandra has to do is step into her role, play this game just once. All I have to do is convince her. It shouldn’t be too hard.