Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
Awet tongue pushed itself into my mouth, wiggling around. Wet, slimy, revoltingly dexterous, and tasting strongly of vodka and cigarettes. I choked and flailed my arms, trying to get away before it smothered me.
“Chosen!”
“Cecil?” I blinked, trying to clear my vision. It had been so dark just seconds ago… midnight-dark, on a moonless night…
But now, I seemed to be lying on my back in the middle of a sidewalk in broad daylight. “What the hell?”
He licked me again and sat on my chest. “Oh, you’re okay.”
“Eugh.” I wiped my mouth. “Why are you French kissing me?”
“I’m pretending to be a seizure dog, you idiot.
That’s what they do, you know. I’m supposed to lie on top of you so you don’t hurt yourself when you seize up, and I’m supposed to lick your mouth to keep you from swallowing your tongue.
” He ducked his head and gave me another lick.
His tongue squirmed its way back into my mouth with amazing dexterity.
“Ugh, stop it, Cecil! You taste like a Russian prostitute.”
“I have to keep up appearances. There’s a woman across the street who is phoning an ambulance for you. We better get out of here before it shows up.”
“Well, I’m fine now. You can get off me.”
He shuffled off my chest grudgingly. “What the hell was that, Chosen? Why did you suddenly start acting so weird? Weirder than usual, I mean.”
I sat up and rubbed my head. The brightness of the day felt almost shocking to me after the pitch-darkness of my waking nightmare. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing pulse. My head had accepted that I wasn’t dreaming, but my heart hadn’t caught up yet. It was still screaming, Run. Run!
It took me a few seconds to gather reassuring words for Cecil.
I didn’t want him to worry about me, not when we had so much else to worry about.
“It was nothing,” I lied. “Probably just the dregs of frustration from the brethren spark stone. I guess it gifted me some magic, and it’s just settling in. ”
He eyed me skeptically. “It didn’t look like frustration. It looked like panic.”
“Potato, potahto,” I said, shrugging flippantly.
If I acted like I was fine, then hopefully Cecil would buy it.
“It’s all good, now. If we weren’t getting chased, I would have waited at the office until the magic settled.
Last time I acted too quickly after closing a stone, I almost killed the sea witch.
” I chewed on my lip, searching for the words to reassure him.
“The running might have triggered an intense burst of frustration. I was just… expressing it.”
“Well, your expression was dramatic. You started looking behind us and screaming like a banshee. Like, acting really, really crazy. You were screaming, ‘I’m never going back! I’m never going back!
’” He shook his head. “Have you ever thought about going into the theater? Because you’d be a fantastic actress. ”
“I played a munchkin in The Wizard of Oz when I was a kid,” I said, groaning a little as I got to my feet.
“Other than that, it’s really not for me.
” I blew out a shaky breath and patted his head.
“Sorry, Cecil. I didn’t mean to scare you.
I was just expressing my frustrations, really. It was like… like…”
Like suddenly being plunged into my worst nightmare.
The breath hitched in my throat. There was no relief in suddenly waking up and finding it wasn’t real, because it had felt so real. The grass beneath my bare feet had been cold and wet with dew. The night air felt chilly, raising goosebumps on my skin. I was terrified. It was too real.
What the hell was happening to me?
I felt like I’d fallen asleep on my feet and dreamed of my worst fears.
Maybe that was it; I was just tired. Burnt out. I rubbed my arms, trying to reassure myself as well as Cecil. “Do you think the brethren stone will give me something useful other than helping me express my frustrations?”
Cecil looked thoughtful. “Maybe. Hopefully, because this is embarrassing for you. You made a right fool of yourself just now. You were so worked up, you used your berserker strength so you could run faster, and now there’s a big split in the back of your pencil skirt.
I can see your panties. It’s a good thing we didn’t go for a thong today, that’s all I’ll say. ”
Fear gripped me again. “I used my berserker strength?”
“Only in your legs. You were running damned fast, Chosen. It’s lucky I made myself part-greyhound, or I never would have caught up with you. Sorry about tackling you, by the way.”
I did a quick examination of myself, checking for injury.
I had a scrape on my left kneecap. My muscles ached, and I could tell I’d pushed myself hard.
My toes, too, were crazy sore. I took off my blazer and wrapped it around my waist so the tear in my skirt was hidden, but Cecil smacked me and waved his little paws around, fixing it with his magic.
“No sign of Detective Striker?” I asked him, putting my blazer back on.
He shook his head. “That’s one thing you don’t have to worry about. You were running so fast you would have broken some land-speed records.”
I stood up and looked around, bewildered. “Where are we?”
“Not far from Violet, actually. You sprinted towards home. On stiletto heels. On twelve-hundred-dollar heels. It’s lucky I went for the expensive ones, or else they woulda snapped right off.”
“I really need to get back to work.” Maybe my office would settle me down. It was already well into the afternoon now, though; most of the staff would be heading home soon. I’d stop in, check my emails and head home.
“Come on, this way.”
We walked in silence for a whole block, then my poor bruised toes became too painful. Cecil refused to transform my heels to flats, so we boarded the tram, heading back to the Financial District. My mind buzzed like an angry hornets’ nest the whole way.
Despite lying through my teeth, Cecil was still a little suspicious. “Stop looking at me like that, Cecil.”
“I can’t help it. I’m horribly embarrassed. That was seriously weird behavior.” He squinted at me. “Are you sure you got a handle on this new brethren power?”
“Yes, Cecil,” I sang.
“You’re not going to bolt again?”
“Not unless Striker shows up. I mean, I’m not in the habit of running from cops.” I’d run from the wardens in the psychiatric hospital three times, though, trying to escape that hellhole. The panic and terror I’d felt kept rolling through my head like a distant echo.
Time for a pep-talk. You’re not there anymore, Susan. There’s nothing to be scared of. Whatever this is, you can fix it. You’re a strong, brave, capable woman. You can fix this, because you can do anything.
That’s right. I can fix this. I was clearly sleep-deprived, overwhelmed, and burned out. I wriggled my phone out of my blazer and tapped out a message to Bronwyn, asking if she had any free time. There was nothing magical about burn out or anxiety, so it wouldn’t hurt to speak to a human about it.
Intrusive thoughts were an everyday thing for lots of people. Whatever was happening, I could fix it.
“You said you were tired.” Cecil lowered his voice, even though the tramcar was empty. “Do you think you should cancel dinner tonight and stay home and rest?”
I put my phone down and thought about it for a second. The idea of canceling a date with Donovan made me want to throw myself from the tramcar. “No, I’ll be fine.”
“Good.” He nodded once. “Because the courtship rites have already begun. It’s bad luck if they’re interrupted. That’s how you get yourself a curse instead of a blessing.”
“Courtship rites?”
“Of course. Now that he’s asked you to dinner, the Prince is officially courting you. There’s a stupid amount of protocol involved from here on out, Chosen.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Nobody mentioned anything about that before.”
“Well, I’m telling you now. Except I can’t tell you much—a lot of it is based in secrecy for a reason.”
I shook my head. There was already too much stuff rattling around in there, too many problems to deal with. “What reason? What possible reason could there be to keep this kind of stuff a secret?”
“Well,” he said, climbing up and getting settled in the seat next to me.
“A royal courtship is a magical, paradigm-shifting event. Ancient fae magics will be activated to ensure that the couple receives a blessing for their union. If the rites aren’t completed or they go wrong, then the marriage is cursed, and it could lead to death and chaos and war. ”
Death? Chaos? War?
Nope, it was too much. “Holy shit, Cecil. Marriage?” I said faintly.
My heart pounded in my chest. “I just got divorced, you know. I’m not ready for marriage.
I’m not even ready for a relationship. I thought we were just going on a little date.
And you’re talking about ancient fae magic rites and marriage? ”
The edges of my eyesight went blurry for a second. I looked away, blinking to clear my vision. A dark image crashed into me, a vision of Donovan, stony faced, stoic, being forced into a relationship with me because of some ancient prophecy.
Donovan doing his duty, because Donovan always did his duty. He didn’t want me, not really. He just wanted to save his people from his evil brother.
He was going through the motions. Of course, he didn’t really want me; I was a dried-up old bag. Used goods. Over-the-hill. Barren.
A paw nudged me gently. “Chosen?”
I shook myself. “Sorry. I just zoned out. You’re, uh… you’re just so boring.” Despite the lightness of my words, cold sweat beaded on my forehead. That one wasn’t so bad. It didn’t hold the intense feelings of terror that I’d felt before, but it was still a vivid, too-realistic intrusive thought.
Cecil was looking at me skeptically. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” I’m not going crazy. I wasn’t crazy before, and I’m not crazy now.
So why is my heart pounding so hard? Why are my worst fears blooming in front of my eyes, knocking me out of reality?
I wrestled myself back under control. “You just took me off guard, there, Cecil. I thought I was just going on a dinner date with Donovan, and now you’re telling me it’s part of some magical fae courting ritual, and if we mess it up, our relationship will be cursed forever?
” I blew out a shaky breath. “How can our date be cursed?”
“Curses are a tricky magic, Chosen. They’re a bond themselves, just like blessings.”
“Can you elaborate on that for me?”
“A curse is a chain that binds someone to terrible misfortune. A blessing is a golden rope that holds you to good luck. You create both curses and blessings based on the rituals you perform.” He shrugged. “It’s magic 101.”
“Of course,” I murmured, looking out the window, watching the rolling city streets whizz by. “Abstract concepts of magic are so easy for me to understand, considering that I didn't know any of it was real a week ago.”
“It’s not so hard to understand. A lot of it is instinctual, so you can relax. You don't know what you’ll need to do, but you’ll do it anyway, because it will feel right at the time. You’re the One of Every Blood. You’ll do what’s right.”
The gentleness of his tone made me want to cry. “What if I get it wrong?”
“You won’t. Remember how you handled the sea witch? Remember how the berserkers gave you their stone? And literally a few minutes ago, you solved a puzzle that had been plaguing the brethren for all eternity, and they crowned you their queen.”
I inhaled deeply through my nose, exhaling, feeling my pulse settle down.
Cecil was right. It was true, I’d done amazingly, just by following my personal code of morals and ethics.
“This… this whole courtship thing is a whole different ball game, though, Cecil. The spark stone stuff and dealing with all these different supernatural creatures… It feels easier, because it’s just like managing a very diverse team of office workers.
Dating is different.” I looked at my hands.
“My last marriage was obviously cursed.”
“It probably was, considering how it ended.” He nudged me. “You got this. Just follow your instincts.”
“I don’t know, Cecil.”
“What are you worried about?”
“First of all, I don’t know if I’m ready to jump into such a serious relationship. And the whole ‘magical fae rites and rituals’ thing. I don’t like not knowing what I’m supposed to be doing, especially since there’s so much on the line.” I turned back to face him. “What happens if I get it wrong?”
“Knowing exactly what to do won’t help, you know.
Every scholar in faerie knows what rituals need to be completed, but the magic is so dependent on genuine emotions and reactions.
You can’t just light a candle and say a few words and expect a spell to work.
Magic is all about energy and intentions. ”
I nodded. I had the right intentions. Even if I wasn’t sure of anything else, I knew I was a good person. I wanted everyone to succeed. I wanted everyone to be happy.
“The Prince’s first engagement was cursed, you know,” Cecil went on unhelpfully.
“It was no one’s fault, but he was so enamored of his bride-to-be, they both thought it unnecessary to make sure they’d completed every little ritual.
They were already in love, of course, so they figured that the right bonds had already been established.
They assumed they’d ticked the magical boxes.
” He gave a little doggy shrug. “Of course, they hadn't. Connor slimed his way in between them, and the whole thing ended in the most tragic way possible.”
No pressure or anything. “Don’t you think it would help if you told me what I have to do?” My voice had gone all squeaky.
“I can’t really tell you. I’m not supposed to—like I said, with lots of the rituals, both of your reactions have to be genuine.
But it involves meaningful gift-giving, acts of sacrifice, a test of faith, healing each other's wounds, a cacao bath, a golf club, forty pounds of ice cubes, an angry Canadian goose?—”
“Cecil.”
He huffed with laughter. “Relax, Chosen. You’ve got this. The dating part will be fun.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “It’s the war and death and chaos part I’m worried about.”