Black Sheep of Faery: Books 1-2 Page 4

  Maybe it’s because there’s been no one since Hatter. Before Fitz, I had a few fun relationships with different Fae, but nothing serious. And Hatter was supposed to be another of those flings. But he wasn’t satisfied with something fun and meaningless.

  He demanded more.

  And I couldn’t give him that. I still can’t.

  He removes his hand as soon as we reach the bottom, but I can still feel it on my waist.

  Belle flips on the lights and I forget Hatter, I forget everything as I take in her basement. The sight literally makes my knees weak and I might actually swoon.

  The Library is down here.

  “How?” I manage to squeak out.

  Belle smiles. “A little bit of magic, a lot of work, and some help.”

  The shelves of neatly organized books go farther than I can see. Along with relics that have traveled to Earth with us. Important relics. Powerful ones. In the wrong hands, they could do a lot of damage. I’m not so certain the FTA is the right hands, but it’d be worse in human hands.

  Some of the things in here would be worse than the nuclear power the humans already have.

  “We decided to move the Library underground. Keep it hidden. I trust you won’t reveal its location?”

  I roll my eyes, slightly stung she feels she has to ask. “No, I thought I’d blog about it.”

  “Funny.” She sighs. “With everything going on in the US, I decided it would be better this way.”

  “What about the branch there?” If the US ends up with access to certain relics, it could end us. Or worse.

  “Marguerite isn’t just smuggling out Fae.”

  I nod, impressed and relieved. “Smart of you.”

  She shrugs. “One thing the stories get right.”

  “Or one thing that remained from the stories. How do you think it works? How much do we already have within us and how much is a mold we feel like we have to fill?”

  She shrugs again. “That’s a question for philosophers, not me.”

  It didn’t use to be. She and I used to argue both points together all the time.

  It’s something I’ve always wondered. For me, it’s different because I’m just a rhyme. But for those like Belle and Hatter who have multiple stories written about them, with incredible detail put into their characterization, where do the divergences come from? Maybe it’s why I look like my character while the two of them don’t. Maybe the imaginations of readers change them. But does that mean we’re at the mercy of creators and readers? We have no real free will?

  I brush off these thoughts I’ve kept buried for a long time. Being with Belle and Hatter again is bringing up too much crap. Crap I’ve tried desperately to get away from. With them, I can’t pretend to be normal. I can’t be someone else without the grief of my past clinging to me.

  “I take it you have some specific firepower you want us to bring tonight?” Hatter asks, glee making him quiver.

  Excitement lights up her eyes. “I might have a few helpful tools I’ve been wanting to try.”

  I shake my head. “You want us to play guinea pig against Pan?”

  “True.” She sighs. “I guess we can just use the old faithfuls. I’ll just bring one new one.”

  I don’t mention the weapons I already have hidden beneath my clothes. If we’re lucky, they’ll never know. If not, I’ll have some explaining to do, but my secret weapons might end up saving us.

  Hatter bounces on the balls of his feet. “I demand an untested toy to play with.”

  For They Were Still A-Fleeting

  We wait until sundown for backup. Belle even sucks it up long enough to ask for help from Cindy, who promised to send a few bodyguards.

  Belle digs through the papers and maps for the thousandth time while I sip a coffee and stare out the window at the Parisians going about their day, living their normal lives, not preparing for war. I can almost see the ghosts passing along the Montmartre, artists who were always drawn to this place. Maybe it’s why Belle and I are both here now, drawn by the same magic.

  Hatter slips the mug from my hand and takes a swig. “How are you doing?”

  I snatch my coffee back, cursing when it sloshes over the rim. “All right. I really hope he shows tonight so we can end this.”

  “Me too.”

  I want to slap the trademark grin right off his face. “I thought you’d want to draw this out.”

  It works without the slap. For once, his expression is completely serious and fierce. “I want to know Alice is unharmed and safe. I wouldn’t use her life to get to stay in yours longer.”

  Shame stabs through me. “I know.”

  He still looks affronted. “Good.”

  And I do know. I know how seriously he actually takes his work and the safety of the people he cares for. It isn’t fair of me to hint otherwise. He did nothing wrong years ago. He truly cared for me and I left him. I don’t think I broke his heart or anything, but I know it hurt him. I’ve hurt many people by disappearing on them. I didn’t really think they’d care so much. It’s not like we’d never see each other again. It’s a small world and we’re going to be around for a long damn time.

  I turn back to the window. “Why are you so concerned about your fellow Wonderland characters?”

  “You might not get it because you’re a rhyme, not a tale, but your fellow characters are like your family. You come from the same place, you’re connected. Whether you like them or not doesn’t matter. The way humans often dislike their family, but still care.”

  “Sounds nice, but also…constricting.” I swallow the dregs of my coffee.

  He huffs. “You would think so. I know you and Alice have little love lost between you, but she doesn’t deserve Pan.”

  “No one deserves Pan.”

  He meets my eyes, his serious and determined. “No, they do not.”

  Cinderella’s brute squad, Red, and Jackie appear with Belle, breaking off our conversation and my own thoughts. I didn’t even hear anyone at the door. They look exactly the same. Jackie still looks like a freaking Viking with her braided platinum hair and penchant for armor. Her wardrobe is a little updated now at least. Red is all curves and long, strawberry-blonde hair and luscious lips and chic Parisian style.

  We exchange pleasantries. It’s genuinely nice to see Jackie and Red again. I always liked and admired them. Red seems to hold no grudge as she yanks me into a hug with a wide grin. Well, maybe a little since she smiles with every one of her teeth, trying to freak me out with her canines lengthening.

  It works the slightest bit.

  Jackie’s hug is a little painful as she uses all her supernatural strength to squeeze me. She might still be a little pissed at me.

  Hatter claps his hands. “Time to hand out weapons.” He moves behind one of the shelves and unearths two huge black duffel bags clanking with metal. It’s hard to keep from clapping along with him. I haven’t had any use for guns or swords or anything for a long time.

  A part of me misses it.

  Another part of me shivers as I accept the sword and scabbard from Hatter. I’m so rusty I’ll probably skewer myself on the end of it instead of slicing off Pan’s head. I’m still proficient with my gun at least.

  We make a pretty terrifying group as I look around at us armed up. Pan has no idea what’s coming for him this time.

  Hatter and I head out with two of Cindy’s goons. Belle and the others are taking an alternate route and defending another side of the building. I exchange a long glance with Belle filled with things I’ll never say out loud to her. Apologies fill her eyes, and in this moment I can forgive her. I had no idea Faery was in so much trouble and she has most of it on her own shoulders. I hope she can forgive me too. For abandoning her. For planning on doing it again.

  We must look like we’re a group of cosplayers as we make our way through the still busy streets of Paris. It’s a weekend, so everyone’s out celebrating life and partying. I wish I was in a bar with my drumsticks instead of at H
atter’s side with a sword.

  But there’s also something comforting and familiar at being thrust back into partnership with him. We did work well together. Maybe if I hadn’t tried to forget my loss in him, I wouldn’t have been so desperate to leave. I shove the thought away. He didn’t have such power over me, and he still doesn’t. He was just the catalyst that made me realize I needed to leave.

  It doesn’t take us long to arrive.

  The two goons split off from us. Between the three groups, we should be able to cover all sides of the orphanage.

  Hatter and I remain in the shadows as we near the building, hugging the walls. We find a nice hiding spot with a good view of the place in an alcove behind a few bushes. We should be fine here. Thankfully Pan didn’t come over with his magic shadow. But the bastard can fly. I’m not sure which is worse.

  What no one knows, is so can I. Hopefully, it won’t come to that.

  Hatter and I lean against the side of the building, sliding down to a seated position. I’m careful to hold up my sword so it doesn’t scrape against the stone. My eyes burn with exhaustion, making me wish I’d actually gotten a nap while we waited for reinforcements.

  “Tired, love?” Hatter nudges me with his shoulder.

  I straighten and try to blink the haze in my eyes away. “Aren’t you? We’ve been going all day.” And I interrupted everyone’s sleep with my nightmares.

  “But that just means you won’t have to stay away from the life you want for too long.”

  I try to put the niggling feeling that’s been plaguing me all day into words. “I don’t know. It’s too easy. Pan’s full of himself, but he was never this easy to figure out before.”

  “Maybe you’ve grown smarter.”

  I adjust the sword into a more comfortable position on my hip. “Maybe, but I’m out of practice. It shouldn’t have been this easy to pick up his trail. Something’s been bugging me most of the day, but I still can’t put my finger on what. I’m certain we’re missing something.”

  “Well, we’ll know soon enough. If he doesn’t show, we’ll go back through everything and figure it out.”

  I yawn into the crook of my arm. “Yeah.”

  “Take a nap. I’ll keep a lookout.”

  “Aren’t you tired too?” I ask again. His lack of humor and pleasant attitude make me uneasy.

  “Exhausted, but I’m wide awake. Go ahead. I’ll wake you if I see anything.”

  I don’t want to, but I also don’t want to be awake alone with him anymore. I don’t want to answer the questions he’s so far been able to keep from asking, but still brim in his eyes every time he looks at me. I don’t want to see the heat in his gaze, telling me he still remembers exactly what I look like beneath my clothes.

  Clutching the sword to my chest, I rest my head against the stone wall and close my eyes.

  She Took Up Her Little Crook

  I don’t remember falling asleep. But Hatter elbows me in my side and claps his hand over my mouth to cut off any objections or surprise. He flinches as I take his wrist between my fingers and pry his hand from my face with more force than is probably necessary.

  He cradles his arm against his chest for a moment with a pout. I spear him with a glare until he holds his hands up in surrender, then points behind me. I turn my head and my heart plummets to my ass when I see the group of shadows headed our way.

  They finally materialize into shapes I recognize.

  I put my mouth close to Hatter’s ear and barely breathe the words. “Lost Boys.”

  He shudders and I pretend not to notice. I tell myself it’s because he’s nervous or it tickled. It had nothing to do with how close we are, how our bare skin rubbed against each other for a moment.

  And even if it was, it’s because our bodies remember each other. Nothing more.

  I grip the hilt of the sword with my right hand, caressing the gun strapped to my thigh with my left. Hatter and I ease to our feet, inch by inch, not wanting to make the slightest noise and alert them to our presence. I count eleven of them, leaving us a bit outnumbered, way more than the original six. They’re nothing like the Lost Boys of the play. They’re big, hulking, brutish men with supernatural strength. I’ll never understand how Pan commands their loyalty outside of the story.

  They walk in a line, making no effort to conceal themselves, assured of nothing getting in the way of their goal. They didn’t plan for us. They didn’t plan for me.

  Hatter and I scan the sky for a glimpse of Pan, but there’s nothing but moonlight above us.

  Praying Belle and the others will come running when they hear the battle begin, I exchange a glance with Hatter. He shoots me a grim nod, fire blazing in his eyes.

  We wait until they’re level with us before we burst from the alcove, swords glittering in starlight. The Lost Boys pull out guns.

  Well, shit.

  We dive for cover as they fire. We both try to tackle and protect each other, leaving us a tangle of limbs and muttered curses.

  But the bullets fly over our heads instead of punching into our bodies, so at least there’s that. I shove Hatter away from me and scramble to my feet, wrapping my hand around the butt of my gun.

  I’m more than happy to send these little shits into oblivion for the next hundred years. Even so, I aim for kneecaps. Better for them to have to care for their wounded. And we can interrogate them after.

  My aim is horrible after so many years of disuse. My bullets hit the ground and trees behind the Lost Boys, but it’s enough to make them dive for their own cover. Maybe if I aim for center mass, I’ll hit a leg.

  The two Lost Boys I do hit howl and scream, falling to the ground and clutching their wounds. Hatter clambers to a spot beside me, pumping his shotgun and blasting at the three coming along my right side.

  His persuasion is useless here, the noise too loud, the boys too far away for his voice to reach them and soothe them into submission.

  But my powers will work.

  Birds block out the moon and starlight, screaming as they dive for the faces and eyes of Lost Boys. Dogs, cats, rats, and squirrels swarm them, biting and clawing at ankles, climbing up their legs, sinking teeth into flesh.

  The boys howl, slapping and stomping at the animals attacking them. I wince as the animals let out squeals of pain. They’re just doing what I’m forcing them to. I pull them back, drawing them out of danger. They’ve done their part and suffered for it.

  Cindy’s goons race towards us from behind Pan’s boys. We have them trapped, but there’s still no sign of Pan. Every time I reload, I check, but he’s nowhere.

  Children’s screams come from inside the orphanage, making my heart constrict. They must be terrified and the police will be here any minute. We need to wrap this up.

  Now.

  Hatter and I jackrabbit over to the trees on the left side, removing ourselves from the line of fire. I hiss, cutting off a yell when a bullet clips my arm. I did not miss getting shot. I stumble to the base of a wide tree, squeezing my eyes shut and breathing deep through the pain. I check my wound, and it’s already healing. Hatter kneels down beside me, his face a picture of concern.

  “Let’s end this.”

  He nods, jaw clenched and eyes black holes of fury.

  We move together, slipping through shadows and past trees, guns firing without pause. The part of me I’ve tried to bury clicks back into place and it’s like I never left. All my training kicks in and I’m Bo Peep, badass again. It’s a dance I’d forgotten the steps to, but now the music plays inside me again and my body remembers what to do, how to move. Hatter and I waltz together in a dance of death.

  In the midst of the chaos and madness, I forget and I look over at him, smiling wide. We’re back in sync. It’s almost like I never left. And I don’t like the little part of me always missing this the slightest bit. I don’t want to miss this. I don’t want to miss him.

  But as I send another Lost Boy crumpling to the ground with another shot to the kneecap wi
th Hatter leaning against my back, dealing with the others who thought they could surround us, it’s like I’m finally back home.

  And I don’t know what to do with this incredibly unwanted feeling.

  The few Lost Boys able to stand start to gather their wounded, staying low to avoid our gunfire. They’re so focused, Hatter and I don’t even need the cover anymore.

  Unable to bring myself to shoot them in the backs, I lower my arms, and Hatter does the same thing at my side. My pulse pounds hard when I see the gouged out chunk of tree trunk right by my head.

  Why did I let them talk me into this?

  “Dammit!”

  Heart skidding, I spin to face Hatter, gun raised, searching for the threat. “What? What’s wrong?”

  His shoulders slump. “I forgot to try out the toy Belle gave me.”

  I refuse to grant him a response.

  The adrenaline fades fast from my body, leaving me limp and exhausted. And pissed. Because Pan was a no show. What was the point of his minions showing up?

  There’s no way they’d be able to talk a kid into flying away into the night with them.

  Red trots over to us in her wolf form, yipping and growling at us until we follow at a dead run. She leads us to the side of the orphanage she and Jackie and Belle were staking out. Apparently Pan has a lot more Lost Boys than he used to. Sirens echo through the night, headed our way.

  And Belle bleeds on the ground from a gunshot wound.

  Determined For to Find Them

  I fall to my knees at her side, my eyes burning with unshed tears. We need to get her out of here. Sirens grow closer with each passing second. I rip off my jacket, tossing it to a surprised Hatter.

  “Get back to the Library as soon as you can. Meet us there.”

  He splutters, and the others object, confusion and worry covering all of them. I don’t have time to explain. I close my eyes, focusing, and the wings explode from my back, making me hiss and wince. It’s like getting the tattoos all over again, but at once. I dip down and take Belle into my arms, straining against her weight. Once I’m in the air, it’ll be even harder.