Wicked Lovely (32 page)

She had a flash of worry that things would seem weird after last night, that he wouldn't still want her, that he'd be angry that she brought the faeries to his home. But he wasn't freaking out—about them or the faeries all around her. Aside from her and Keenan, they'd all stayed invisible, but she knew Seth could see them and that he was pretty aware of
who
it was that stood beside her.

Seth's expression was unreadable, but he held out a hand and said, "Hey."

Then the court, Keenan, Niall, the guards—it was all forgotten as she slipped into Seth's arms.

After watching Aislinn's and her mortal's faces, Keenan found it much easier to believe that his queen was making the only choice she could. He knew that look, had seen it in the eyes of several girls,
had
seen it in Donia's eyes.

"Come on." Seth motioned for him to follow. Then he stopped and looked at Aislinn. "If he…"

She paused.
"Umm.
Can you come in here?"

"I can." Keenan exchanged a brief look with Niall at Seth's obvious awareness of what he was and of the fey aversion to steel.

What else has she said to him?
His curiosity piqued, he added,   Cold iron doesn’t harm a monarch.

Seth didn't miss a beat. He quirked his eyebrow and said, "Guess that means you're Keenan."

Aislinn winced. Niall and the guards froze. Keenan laughed.
Here's a brazen one.
"I am."

"Well, since the house won't make you sick …" Seth let his words fade away as he led Aislinn inside.

Keenan followed them into the dim interior. It was tiny, but well kept. His first thought was that Donia would find it appealing—if not for her inability to be around so much steel.

"You want anything?" Seth was in his small kitchen area, putting some sort of rice dish in his microwave. "Ash needs to eat."

"I'm fine." She blushed.

"Did you eat yet today?" Seth waited briefly, and when she didn't answer he turned back to his cupboards and began getting out dishes.

Keenan's positive opinion of Seth increased.

"I'm, umm, going to do it. The queen thing," Aislinn said in a shy voice. She sat down on one end of the sofa.

"Figured that when you brought him."
Seth tossed a bottle of water to Aislinn and looked expectantly at Keenan.

He held a hand out and caught the water Seth tossed to him.

The microwave dinged. No one spoke for a moment while Seth gathered the food.

Then he asked, "So what's that mean for us?"

"Nothing, I don't think." Aislinn glanced at Keenan. "It was one of my terms for taking the job."

Keenan settled on one of the garish chairs and waited.

"School?"
Seth handed her a bowl of food as he sat beside her. Some slight tension left him as Aislinn put her legs up and leaned back against him.

"That's good too," she said.

Seth was handling the situation with considerable aplomb, but Keenan didn't miss the mortal's possessive gestures—the casual touches that announced a physical connection to Aislinn.

Once he'd given Aislinn her meal, Seth turned to Keenan. "So now what happens?"

"Aislinn comes with me to see Donia and becomes a queen." Keenan kept his irritation at being questioned under control. They both wanted the same thing—Aislinn's well-being.

Seth looked truly ill at ease. "Will it hurt her?"

Aislinn seemed startled by the question, fork full of food held in midair.

"No," Keenan said. "And afterward, there's not much in your world or mine that can seriously hurt her."

"What about the other one, the Winter Queen?" Seth had entangled his hand in Aislinn's hair, stroking it absently while he spoke.

"She still can. Monarchs can wound or kill one another."

"Monarchs like you," Seth prompted.
"You
can hurt her."

"I will not." Keenan looked at Aislinn, curled up against Seth, seeming happy. It was what he wanted for her, happiness. There was little she could ask that he'd deny—even if that meant she would be in another's arms for now. "I gave her my vow."

They sat there then, in silence as Aislinn ate, until finally she asked, "Can Seth come with us?"

"No. No mortals, not at the test. It would not be safe for him," Keenan answered carefully, resisting the urge to cringe at the danger of a mortal there. Even without the Sight, the glare would be blinding when his power was unbound, when Aislinn's power slid into her.

Aislinn put her bowl aside and moved into Seth's lap.

Keenan didn't miss the tension around her eyes. He took a steadying breath and added, "Afterward, though, you could bring him to the Rath with us. He can join us to celebrate."

"What about seeing them…
us"
—she corrected herself before Keenan could—"giving him the Sight so it's easier."

"A monarch can authorize that." Keenan smiled at her attention to detail. She truly would make a wonderful queen.

"So if you—"

"Or
you,
Aislinn," he interjected.

"Right.
If one of us approved it, it would be okay to find a way for him to see us?" she continued with a strange almost-fearful note in her voice.

"I already approve it. We'd just need to get the ingredients. I have a book at the loft." Keenan didn't miss their exchange.
"Unless you've already found such a recipe?"

Neither answered.
They didn't have to. He cursed softly, knowing exactly where they would've found such a recipe. Who else could have given them such a thing? He dropped that subject and said, "We'll need to work on you learning to hide your emotions better than that.
Both of you.
Now that Aislinn is summer fey, her emotions will be more
volatile.
It is the nature of our court."

At Seth's quirked brow, Keenan sighed. "You'll be around enough that it'd be useful for you, too. There are things you might do well to know if you're to be
with
my queen."

Aislinn said nothing, but Seth's expression tensed. He held Keenan's gaze for several heartbeats, and Keenan realized that the mortal was not unaware of their inevitable competition for Aislinn's attention.

Keenan's respect for Seth grew. The mortal loved Aislinn enough to stay beside her despite the odds against him. It was an admirable quality.

And as they spoke—not about the court or the future, but simply talking, trying to learn more about each other— Keenan found it surprisingly tolerable to sit with his queen and her lover.

He was still relieved,
though,
when Donia called to let him know that she was home, waiting for them, and to hurry. Beira's hags had been riding all over Huntsdale, wreaking havoc. Fey from the High Court had already begun to leave town, unwilling to stay while things were in upheaval.

Of course,
they
won't stay.

He sighed. It'd be nice to have at least one other court that tried to stop trouble rather than start it or run from it.

When he hung up, Keenan told Aislinn and Seth of Donia's comments, and they made ready to depart

Aislinn looked anxious at leaving Seth, despite his murmured assurances that he'd see her shortly.

Speaking softly, Keenan reminded him, "The hags cannot come in, but Beira can. Until we return, you must stay here. I would not want you at her mercy."

"Grams.
Grams
is
alone," Aislinn whispered, her eyes widening. Then she was out the door, running.

Keenan
paused
only a heartbeat, glancing at Seth. "Stay here. We'll be back as soon as we can."

Seth nodded and shoved him toward the still-open door. "Keep her safe."

Outside, Niall was already sending guards after Aislinn.

"Leave someone to watch over him," Keenan instructed as he fled, following Aislinn, hoping that she worried for nothing, that Elena was safe.

When Aislinn got there, the door was ajar. She went into the living room. The TV was on, but she didn't see Grams. She stepped around the corner.
"Grams?"

Behind her, the guards spilled into the room.

On the floor, eyes closed, lay Grams.

Aislinn scrambled over to her, felt for a pulse, for breath.
Grams was
alive.

"Is she …" Keenan pulled her to her feet and knelt beside Grams.

"She's hurt," Aislinn said. "You all come with us to the hospital. If anyone comes near her, you
will
stop them."

Grimly Keenan nodded. "Your queen has spoken."

The guards bowed. One stepped forward. "We will do our best, but if it's the Winter Queen
herself
…"

Aislinn heard the fear in his voice. "Is she that strong?"

"Only the Summer King—or the head of another court—could stand against her," Keenan said. "If I had my full strength, if
you
had your strength, we could. If we go to the hospital, we are not much defense to Elena. But after the ceremony, we can protect her."

One of the guards lifted Grams gently. He held her carefully aloft. The others filed out the door.

Aislinn swallowed, hating the idea of leaving Grams. "If we do this, and it's her that hurt Grams …"

"Even if it isn't her, it was at her command." Keenan scowled. "She has threatened you, Donia…"

"Well, let's go then." She looked at Grams, motionless in a faery's arms. Then she turned to Keenan. "Does it take long?"

"Not too long." He glanced at the guards. "Do whatever you need to do. We'll be at the hospital as soon as we can. Go."

As the guards raced toward the hospital, Aislinn took Keenan's hand, and they ran—faster than she'd known her body could move—toward Donia's and the test that would change everything.

Never was there any one
so
beautiful as [he]…. The wolves did not ravage, the frost winds did not bite, and the Hidden Folk came out of the Faery Hills and made music and gladness everywhere.

—Celtic Wonder Tales
by Ella Young (1910)

Donia knew they were coming, but it still made her gasp when they came toward her—holding hands and moving at the blinding speed that only the strongest fey could manage.

"Don?" He looked
fevered
in his excitement, face glowing, copper hair already radiating with the strange sunlight he carried inside.

She forced a smile and stepped into the yard. The last time she'd been through the ceremony, the test, she was the one holding his hand, hopeful that she'd be his partner, his queen.

All around the edge of the clearing were faeries—mostly Summer Court, but a few representatives of other courts. That alone stood as a reminder of how very unusual this particular test would be.

Keenan came toward her. ''Are you—"

Aislinn interrupted with a gentle hand on his arm. She shook her head.

He looked confused, but he stopped, staying farther away from Donia, not asking questions she didn't want to have to answer. Donia caught Aislinn's gaze and nodded; she couldn't deal with his kindness, not as she prepared to give him over to another girl.

Ash will be a good queen. Good for him,
she reminded herself. Then she walked over to the not-yet-blooming hawthorn bush in the middle of her yard and laid the staff under it. Sasha moved to stand beside her, and she placed a hand on his head for support.

"Aislinn," Donia called from the center of the clearing.

The girl stepped forward, already glowing, only barely mortal now.

"If you are not the one, you will carry the winter's chill. You will tell the next of his"—Donia inclined her head toward Keenan—"mortal loves how unwise this is. You will tell her, and any that follow while you carry the cold, how very foolish it is to trust him. If you agree to do this, I am free of the cold, regardless of the results."

She paused to allow Aislinn a moment to consider her words, and then she asked, "Do you accept all of this?"

"I do." Aislinn came
forward,
her steps slow and deliberate as she crossed the openness between them.

Behind her Keenan waited, sunlight blazing from his skin, making Donia dizzy from looking at him. It'd been so long since she'd seen him glow so brightly, and she'd convinced herself that he wasn't truly as beautiful as he'd seemed in her memories.

She'd been wrong.

She forced herself to tear her gaze away from him. "Please," she prayed. "Please let Aislinn be the one."

Aislinn felt the pull, the insistence that she pick up the staff. She stepped forward.