Chapter 19
It took Mel a few minutes to get her bearings. One second she was standing in the ballroom, getting stupidly emotional as she watched her best friend dance with the boy she loved. Liam had been about to take her hand. And she was going to let him.
The next thing she knew, the ballroom plunged into darkness. She felt something wrap around her. Like a suffocating whirlpool of evil.
She had actually passed out.
Now she was…where? She was sitting up, in a chair maybe. She couldn’t see. There was something covering her eyes. She tried to move, but found her hands tied behind her back. Her ankles, too, were bound.
“There goes the kickboxing my way out plan,” she muttered to herself.
“Ah, she wakes.”
Mel froze at the male voice. A voice so ice cold that she actually shivered.
She had never heard him speak, had never met him or even knew what he looked like. But she knew without at doubt that this was Ultan. The freak who wanted her dead. And now he had her.
So much for all of those magical protections.
She heard footsteps approaching, and then whatever was covering her eyes disappeared.
The man before her, looking down at her like a wolf salivating before a juicy meal, was the embodiment of malevolence. Stringy black hair. Ghostly pale skin. Weird lavender eyes.
But it was the smile—thin-lipped and twisted—that really hit home the bad guy vibe.
She could see now that they were in some kind of cave. A cavern, really. Big and open, with a fire burning in the center. Only, unlike normal flames, this fire burned in a rainbow of colors. Purple, most of all.
Purple was her new least favorite color.
“How did you like my little trick with the candles?” Ultan asked, as though they were friends. “All of the queen’s hard work, snuffed out in an instant.”
Ignoring him, she instead focused her energy on figuring a way out of her situation. While she expected the full power of the Morainian forces to be out looking for her and—with the help of the fae witch’s magical tracking charm—finding her eventually, she wasn’t about to just sit around and wait.
From what she could tell, she was at the back of the cavern, with the multi-colored campfire between her and the entrance. Next to the fire, there was a table covered in brightly colored bottles, bundles of dried herbs, and—most disturbingly—a very large knife.
The knife destined to drain her blood, she supposed.
If she could get out of the chair, could get her hands on the blade, she could use it to cut her ties.
But that was a big if. It felt like she was shackled in place by steel cuffs.
“I wouldn’t bother struggling,” Ultan told her as he lifted a large, leather-bound book off the table. “Your shackles are unbreakable magic. And since I disabled the magic of every fae in that ballroom, whatever control you’ve learned in your training with the Captain of the Palace Watch is useless to you now.”
Mel’s breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure what freaked her out more: that Ultan had disabled all the magic—including, she had to assume, the magical tracking device she was counting on to bring Liam and his troops to her rescue—or the fact that he somehow knew what she’d been doing for the last few days. Except for her trip to the pond that morning, she had never left the palace. Which meant either Ultan himself had been there or he had a spy.
“Why the long face?” Ultan said, his voice dripping with mockery. “Don’t tell me you actually have feelings for the Statue of Clan Moraine?”
Mel ignored his taunts.
It wasn’t so much her own life that she was concerned about saving—although, she wasn’t stupid, she totally did not want to die—but those of the countless fae who would suffer and die if Ultan succeeded. For them, she had to get away. For them, she had to survive.
If only she still had her magic. This was exactly the situation she and Liam had trained for. A last resort, if all of their other protections failed. Well guess what? They failed. And now her last resort was no longer an option.
As long as she was strapped to the chair, she was helpless. At his mercy. But if she could escape, she had a chance.
If only she could get the knife.
Movement on the table caught her eye. The tiniest movement, just a glint of firelight on metal.
Mel flicked a glance at Ultan, who seemed to be absorbed in reading the ancient-looking book. She laser-focused her attention on the table. Narrowed her every thought onto the knife.
The movement happened again, but bigger this time so she could see that the knife had shifted a fraction of an inch on the table.
She did a little mental cheerleading.
Ultan was wrong. He hadn’t suppressed the magic of every fae in the ballroom. He hadn’t suppressed hers.
Careful to make sure he was still absorbed in the book, Mel closed her eyes and heard Liam’s voice in her mind saying, Call to the magic within you.
She called to the knife, pulled it to her with her desperate thoughts.
And when she opened her eyes, she saw the gleaming blade floating a few inches in front of her nose.
“Score.”
She uttered the word without thinking.
“What’s that?” Ultan asked, looking up from the book.
His eyes widened for a split second and then narrowed with rage.
Knowing she was on borrowed time—she had exactly as long as it took Ultan to cross the distance to her chair—she sent the knife floating around behind her, down low enough for her to grab. She quickly sliced the blade over her binding.
Too quickly. She felt the sting of metal piercing flesh, but she didn’t have time to worry about that.
She was just swinging the blade around to her ankles when Ultan reached her.
He grabbed her by the shoulders. “How do you still have your magic?” he shouted. “I suppressed all the fae powers in the room!”
His face was quickly turning a dark shade of purple that did not go well with his eyes.
“You forgot two little details,” she taunted.
His eyes widened. “What?!”
“I’m not fae,” she said. “I’m a demigoddess.”
He shook his head wildly. “What’s the second thing?”
She flashed him a mocking grin. “Always take away the weapon first.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, she jabbed the dagger into his side.
Chapter 20
Liam ran faster and faster through the forest. Growing more desperate with every step. How could he have let this happen? Mel had been right at his side, and Ultan grabbed her away without a fight.
He didn’t know where he was going, was moving only on instinct. He just had to trust that instinct would lead him in the right direction.
He pulled up when he heard a noise. He listened closely for a moment. It sounded like someone talking.
He crouched low and tried to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible as he moved in the direction of the voice.
“Unbelievable,” a female voice said. “Douchebag wanted to kill me, and now I have to drag his unconscious pile of evil through the forest so he doesn’t die. Un. Freaking. Believable.”
Mel!
Liam broke into a dead run.
When he found her, head down and struggling against the weight of something she was dragging behind her, he felt the most unfamiliar urge to weep.
“Mel,” he said, his voice barely a breath.
She looked up, and for a split second she looked as desperately relieved to see him as he was to find her. Then her joy turned into a scowl.
“Do you believe this jerk?” she said, nodding at what Liam could now see was the body she was dragging through the forest. “Abducted me from my very first ball. How rude is that?”
Liam couldn’t hide a grin. “Very rude indeed.”
Mel hefted Ultan’s feet, which she was carrying, one in each hand, against her hips.
 
; “Look, I’m all for being the kind of girl who can take care of herself,” she said. “After all, I did just rescue myself and all. But this jerk is pretty freaking heavy.”
Liam looked at Ultan’s prone body. Red blood with a pearly sheen seeped from a wound in his side, just below his ribs. The wound would not kill him—none but an enchanted blade could kill a fae—but considering the amount of blood lost, he would be unconscious for quite some time.
Stepping up to Mel, he placed his hands over hers where they held the traitor’s ankles.
“Leave him.” He gently pried her fingers loose. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
But as he looked down at her hands, he saw blood. Not the pearly red blood of a fae, but the dark crimson blood of a human.
“You are not fine,” he insisted. “You’re bleeding.”
“What?” she asked, then looked down at her hands. “Oh, yeah. Got a little too cavalier with the dagger. But I got the job done in the end.”
It hurt him to see her hurt. And though she was trying to play it off as though it was no big deal, he knew she had to have been scared. She had been abducted by a crazed traitor who wanted to kill her, and the one person who was supposed to protect her had failed.
“I’m sorry,” he told her, his heart aching with the words. “I should have—”
“Hey, none of that.” She placed her hand over his mouth. “It wasn’t your fault.”
He pulled her hand away, but did not release her. “I should have been prepared for that. I should have bound you to me. Then he couldn’t have taken you without taking me as well.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered.” She turned her hand over, so their palms were pressed together. “No magic could have stopped him. He cast some kind of spell that made all the magic in the palace fail.”
Liam nodded. That explained why the rose petals fell and how Ultan managed to slip through all of their magical defenses. The one possibility they had never even considered.
“Actually,” she said, lacing her fingers through his, “he didn’t stop all the magic.”
“What do you mean?”
“My powers were still kicking,” she explained. “That’s how I got away. I used what you taught me.”
He smiled. “Oh, so you mean you were actually listening when I trained you.”
She stepped closer to him. “Sometimes.”
The pull between them was something stronger than magic. He felt his head lowering, without conscious thought, and sensed her rising up on her toes to meet him.
Their lips were a hair’s breadth apart when he heard voices.
“Captain MacNeil! Miss Melania!”
“Friends of yours?” she asked with a sigh.
Liam dropped his forehead against Mel’s. “The cavalry has arrived.”
“We should probably let them know where we are.”
He wanted to close his eyes and be in this moment forever. “We probably should.”
Her smile kept him silent.
“We will,” she said, tilting her face up to his. “In a minute.”
When her lips brushed across his, it was like a thousand explosions tore through his body. The sparks of magic he felt when she touched him paled in comparison to this. He pulled her close. All he wanted was to stay in this moment, with this girl, forever.
Behind them, Ultan groaned.
Forever would have to wait.
As he pulled away, she looked intently into Liam’s eyes. “This isn’t over.”
“Far from it,” he replied. Then, turning toward the sound of the fae who were calling for them, he shouted, “Over here!”
They were quickly swarmed by soldiers, who bound Ultan in cuffs and carried him away to the palace. Hopefully to the deepest depths of the dungeons.
A medic took Mel aside to inspect her wounds while Tearloch and the prince questioned Liam about what happened. The next thing he knew, they were heading back to the palace. It was over.
Chapter 21
Mel found him in the queen’s garden. With the nearly full moon floating high in the sky, she could make out every detail. He sat on a bench, facing the enchanted lawn, with his back to her. The clan’s mages had restored magic to those who were affected by Ultan’s spell. The traitor himself was chained up in the deepest, darkest dungeon, awaiting trial, secured in no small part by protections that Mel had helped to cast.
Things were quickly spiraling back to normal. Well, to her new normal.
“Are you leaving?” he asked without turning around.
She walked cautiously to the edge of the lawn. “Yes.”
His spine stiffened. “Good.”
“But I’m coming back,” she said as she sank onto the bench next to him. “There are things I care about here.”
Liam leaned down and rested his head in his hands. She gave in to the urge to rub her hand over his back. He groaned, as if her touch hurt him, but didn’t ask her to stop.
“Mel, I’m…” He scrubbed his hands over his scalp. “I’m dangerous.”
She laughed. Actually laughed out loud.
“Yeah, well, so I am,” she said. “I punch fae gods for the fun of it.”
“I am serious.” He sat up and looked her in the eye. “Five years ago I nearly killed a human boy.”
“I don’t—”
“Please, let me say this,” he said, cutting her off. “They are called hunting parties. Groups of fae that venture into the human world, not to kill but to cause enough pain or suffering to feed our magic.”
Mel studied him, saw the anguish in his eyes as he told her something that he had been holding onto for a long time. While she didn’t love what he was telling her, she positively hated to see him in such distress.
“I had gone on several, so I don’t know what made that time different. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t get enough.” He shook his head, his eyes staring off into an unseen distance. “My clanmates had to practically tear me to pieces to stop me from killing him.”
Mel’s hand shook as she reached out to touch his shoulder. She breathed, “Your back?”
He nodded. “Until Cathair ordered me to accompany Winnie, I had not entered the human realm since. I can’t. It isn’t safe.” He looked at her, his gray eyes so full of pain that she nearly cried. “You aren’t safe.”
She let his words sit in silence for a long time. Though she couldn’t be certain, she had a feeling he hadn’t spoken of this with anyone. All the while, she kept smoothing her hand in gentle circles across his back.
Finally, when she felt some of the tension ease from his muscles, she spoke.
“You are not dangerous.”
“Did you not—”
“My turn.” She pressed a finger to his lips to keep him silent. “I haven’t known you for long, but we have spent a lot of time together in the last few days. You haven’t once even tried to do anything to cause me pain or suffering.”
“No, because—” He cut himself off. “I haven’t needed to. Your magic has charged mine.”
“Another perk of being a demigoddess, I guess. But my point is, if this really was some uncontrollable addiction, you wouldn’t have been able to stop yourself.” She sighed. “At least half of my ex-stepdads have been alcoholics. I know the signs.”
He appeared to consider her words. She smiled when she saw some of the anguish disappear from his eyes.
“I also understand the struggle. And if you think that going cold turkey is the only way to stay off the human sauce—” She paused to considered how totally weird that sounded. “Anyway, I will do whatever it takes to make you feel in control.”
“Really?” he asked, as though he couldn’t quite believe what she was saying.
The atmosphere was getting a bit heavy for her taste, especially since she was already on the verge of tears at the thought of leaving the realm. At the thought of leaving him, if only for a little while. She needed to lighten the mood.
“Besi
des,” she continued with a cheeky grin, “have you seen my powers? You wouldn’t be able to get near me if I didn’t want you to. Lucky for you, I definitely want you to.”
His face relaxed into a smile. “You are amazing.”
“I know.” She flashed him an exaggerated grin.
He reached out and took her hand. “Do you have to leave?”
“I can’t walk away from my life.” She squeezed his hand. “I can’t walk away from my mom and all of my future-ex-stepdads. I’m half human. I belong in—”
“Both realms,” he finished for her. “I know. But I am selfish enough to want you to choose one.”
“Well, if I had to choose…” she teased.
“This one,” he quickly corrected. “I am selfish enough to want you to choose this one.”
She smiled as she leaned against him, letting her head come to rest on his shoulder.
“I’ll come back as often as I can. And you can always come visit me in the human world.”
She felt him tense. But still he said, “I will.”
“I just have to get through my senior year,” she explained. “Then, after graduation…well, then I’ll figure things out.”
He laced their fingers together. “We’ll figure things out.”
Winnie had been right. Magical things happened that night. And now Mel was ready for a lifetime more.
Chapter 1
Damp. Wherever he was, it was damp. And dark. And cold.
So very cold.
A biting, icy cold that chilled him through to his bones until he thought he could never get warm again.
It came from behind him, through the rough stones of the wall at his back. He lurched away from it, desperate to escape the cold, only to be jerked back by the magical shackles that secured him to the wall.
He was helpless.
He shivered from both the cold and the fear.
Mostly the fear.
Digging deep within himself, he hunted for the any traces of power. He had exhausted his magic during the capture, but he had to believe that some remained. Even a tiny spark would be enough to give him hope.