Careless Wishes

by Amy Sumida

  I gave Daxon a heavy look.

  “Didn't he say that you'd know what to do when the time came?” Daxon reminded me.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, is this it?”

  “I don't know.” I shrugged. “Maybe I should go along and check things out.”

  “Um... what's happening right now?” Desmond asked us warily.

  “My wife has been visited by our Goddess's brother,” Daxon declared with lingering irritation. “And he has charged her with the job of protecting his people from some unnamed threat.”

  “He asked me to protect humans and Fairies,” I corrected him.

  “What?” Daxon went still. “Are you saying that Fairies are in danger too?”

  “I believe that's what was implied, yes.”

  “Well, fuck,” Desmond growled.

  “That about sums it up,” Dax agreed.

  “So, you two are coming along on the raid?” Desmond asked.

  Daxon sighed. “I suppose we are.”

  “Then you're gonna wanna change,” Desmond said with a pointed look.

  Dax and I looked at each other, then down at our swimsuits.

  Daxon cursed and turned back toward our bedroom. Over his shoulder, he ordered Desmond to, “Have Matvei stay with Caelum and up the guards on patrol.”

  “And the rest of the Elite?”

  “With my Queen and me,” Daxon growled.

  Chapter Twelve

  I didn't want to tell my Star's Guard about Anu before I told my husbands, but I didn't have time to scry them. As soon as Daxon and I were changed, we hurried out to the waiting line of vehicles—two SUVs, three vans, and several motorcycles—and got into the lead SUV. Several of my Guard got in with us. I technically didn't tell them about Anu, Desmond did that for me, but the result was the same; they knew something important about me before three of my husbands did. I didn't feel good about that but there was no keeping the God cat in the bag at that point.

  Desmond had the target under surveillance; a team had surrounded the location and was waiting on our arrival to move in. I didn't have any weapons—most of us didn't—but I didn't need them; I had several options literally at my fingertips. I stretched my hands and stared at them as we sped through L.A. It had been a long time since I'd star-crossed a fairy or dream-dusted someone and as far as my Firethorns went, the mere thought of summoning a burning ball of thorns made me twitch with excitement. Magic isn't like a muscle, it won't atrophy without use, but using it is a rush that can become addictive and haunts you when you ignore it. The surge of power I received every twilight and the use of beags—minor Fey elemental magic—as well as the human psychic abilities I'd inherited from my mother, had satisfied my magical cravings these last five years. But the prospect of letting loose with the big guns was bringing up memories of a life I didn't have anymore.

  I missed this. The grim excitement of driving toward a mission. The anticipation of moving my body in ways—dangerous ways—that I didn't get to on normal days. The feeling of my muscles tensing and my breath coming faster. The possibility that these might be the last moments of my life. Yeah, that's morbid and unlikely but death has a way of making life all the more precious and even the smallest chance of it provides a surge of adrenaline that no drug could mimic. Well, besides epinephrine, but you know what I mean.

  We pulled up to the curb and everyone started to get out. Except for Daxon. He leaned into my way to block the door and grabbed my arm.

  “You will stay out of the way unless you get that 'knowing' Anu promised you. Got it?” Daxon growled.

  “We're not in the bedroom, baby,” I drawled. “You don't get to boss me around.”

  “Seren!”

  “I'll stay out of the way,” I gave in.

  Daxon let out a breath and nodded. “Thank you.”

  Dax got out and I followed. My Guard took up positions around me. We were the only people on the street. Buildings towered on both sides, gray and dirty. A few men came running over to report to Desmond. Daxon's Elite had ridden to the location on motorcycles, all but Desmond, who had driven our SUV. They climbed off their bikes and immediately joined my knights, surrounding us as I continued to check out the area. As the only human—part human, at least—there, I had an advantage over the others. I could see auras. If a fairy were glamouring themselves invisible, other fairies could, if they concentrated hard enough, see the release of spent magic. I, however, would be able to see the person's aura with barely any effort. If anyone was hiding outside the building, perhaps as a lookout, I'd know it.

  “Well?” Daxon asked me.

  “It's clear.” I looked at the heavy, steel, sliding door the others were gathered before. “But I can't see through stone or steel.”

  “Then it's a good thing we've staked out this building for the last twenty-four hours and know exactly who's inside,” Desmond said a little smugly.

  “How many?” Daxon asked.

  “Sixteen. The worst will be the Rikshas, there are two of them. There are also some Gremlins and Spriggans; the rest are Sidhe.”

  “All right. Move in and apprehend. Do not kill unless absolutely necessary. Selling magic isn't a death sentence. We're arresting them, then we're handing them over to the Extinguishers.”

  “Isn't that the same thing?” One of Daxon's new soldiers asked.

  I glared at him. “No, it's not. They will be dealt with fairly. For selling magic, the most they'll get is a trip back to Fairy and banishment from Earth. Depending on the magic, they may only have to pay a fine.”

  “Sorry, Your Majesty,” the man murmured. “I didn't see you there.”

  “Just get inside and make sure you get Henry,” Dax growled.

  “Henry is the dealer?” I asked.

  “He's in charge of the operation.” Daxon nodded.

  My Star's Guard and Daxon's Elite prepared their magic, as much as could be done on a public street at midday. Rodaidh, one of Daxon's, grabbed a tattoo on his forearm and pulled it into existence; a wicked-looking blade emerged from his skin. He grinned and winked at Gradh when he caught her watching him. Conri growled at him but Rodaidh only chuckled.

  “Cut out the bullshit and focus,” Daxon hissed at them. “You are royal guards, act like it!”

  Sanna, the only woman on Daxon's Elite, stepped up to the steel door and everyone else stepped back. Sanna's an Ajata—a race of Finnish forest Fairies with the power to cause illness. That power translated into a magic that could make even inanimate objects ill. Sanna can kill anything, even magic. If there was a ward on the door, she would destroy it. If not, she'd destroy the lock. Either way, she was the easiest way in.

  Something sparked, then cracked under Sanna's pale hands, then she stepped back. Desmond took her place and yanked the door open, using its industrial handle to pull it sideways along the wall. Our fairies rushed inside, but Daxon grabbed my wrist and wouldn't let go until everyone else had gone in.

  “I get it!” I hissed at him. “You're worried. I'm sorry about that, babe, but you've got to back off before we start having marital difficulties.”

  “You promised me that you'd stay out of the way,” he snapped.

  “I will. If you give me a chance to.” I looked at his hand pointedly.

  Meanwhile, shouting filtered out to us and a flash of magic lit the doorway. I jerked my hand away from my husband and ran into the building. Daxon cursed and hurried after me.

  Inside, the combination of multiple magics had turned the air hazy. That haze drifted up to the exposed steel beams and wafted outward to billow against dirty windows. In the mist, random sparks went off, highlighting violent tableaus. Fairies blasted magic and brandished weapons as they shrieked, screamed, and roared. The Gremlins—little guys no taller than my knee—took cover beneath overturned tables and wooden crates, but the Spriggans, who had started around the same size as the Gremlins, inflated themselves until they were even bigger than the Rikshas. They were monstrous in their enlarged bodies and
known to be both destructive and dangerous, but they were nothing compared to the Bear-Shifters.

  Bellows echoed through the room, answered by the howls of several Cu-Sidhe and one Bargest. The Rikshas shifted, clothes shredding as their bodies bulged and sprouted fur. Their faces elongated and teeth thickened as their paws slashed through the air.

  Two enormous bears had joined the battle.

  I lifted my hand as one of the bears came barreling straight for me. I intended to dream-dust him, but Daxon stepped in front of me and simply glared at the shapeshifter. I couldn't see Daxon's eyes but I knew they were glowing with magic because the Riksha came to a sudden stop and let out a horrendous cry. He fell backward onto the ground and curled up in fear.

  That would be the Tromlaighe at work.

  Daxon turned toward me smugly but as he did, the Riksha lurched up and bellowed. Daxon's eyes rounded in surprise and he started to spin back toward the bear, but before he could finish the movement, I leaned over his shoulder and blew across my palm. Glittering lavender dust drifted out as if I'd been holding a handful of the stuff. It puffed around the Riksha's head and all it took was a single breath—his, not mine—to send him to sleep. He crumpled into a furry mountain just inches away from my husband.

  Daxon's smirk turned into a grimace.

  “Fear works, babe, but you can't turn your back once you've dished it out.” I grinned. “You never know how a fairy will to your nightmares.”

  “Superiority is my thing, Princess,” Daxon chided me. “It doesn't suit you.”

  “Oh, I'm Princess now, am I?” I laughed.

  Daxon liked to call me Princess when he wanted to annoy me or when he was annoyed by me. Not that it was an insult on its own but the way he said it made it seem so. At the very least, it sounded condescending. It should have been even more insulting now that he was a king, but I knew him too well to find it anything but amusing.

  “You were supposed to stay—”

  “Excuse me, Dax, but I've got to help your soldiers now,” I cut him off and ran into the fray, dream-dusting bad fairies like my children with their crumbs.

  Daxon snarled and chased after me. “That's is enough!” He roared, his magic lashing out with his voice.

  At first, I thought he was speaking to me. I started to turn around to dream-dust him and give him a lesson on manners. But his next words made it clear that he was speaking to the criminals, not me.

  “If you want to live, surrender now!”

  The jolt of fear Daxon dispensed did the trick. The fighting stopped and even the remaining Riksha dropped onto all fours and surrendered. Daxon's soldiers began to handcuff the criminals with magic-dampening cuffs.

  I pouted as I turned to face my husband. “You couldn't let me dust a few more fairies before you went all scary on them?”

  “You've dusted enough for one day, Mrs. Sandman,” he growled.

  “That doesn't really work, babe,” I noted. “It should be Sandwoman and the Mrs. implies that you're the Sandman.”

  “There's no such thing as the Sandwoman.” He went back to smirking.

  “There's no such thing as a Sandman either,” I shot back.

  “I think you've just proven that there is.”

  “If I did, then I proved that there is a Sandwoman.”

  “Your Majesty?” Desmond interrupted us.

  “Do you have Henry?” Daxon asked, immediately going serious.

  “Yes. He's cuffed.”

  “Get all of them into the vans and collect any evidence you find,” Daxon ordered. “I'm taking my wife home.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Desmond turned to the others and shouted, “You heard him! Get them loaded up and transported to our holding cells. Elite, you stay and search for evidence.”

  “And who's going to guard the King?” Rodaidh asked Desmond.

  “We will,” Torquil announced as he waved my Guard after Daxon and me.

  “Can I get the keys?” Conri held his hand out to Desmond.

  “Fuck no, Bargest,” Desmond growled as he tossed the keys to Daxon. “The King's the only one I trust with my ride.”

  “Because it's actually my ride.” Daxon twirled the keys in one hand and took my hand with the other. “Let's go, beautiful; we've already wasted too much of this day.”

  “Aw, that's so sweet of you to say.” Conri flicked back his dark curls. “And you're right; we really should spend more quality time together.”

  “Keep it up, Bargest, and you'll be walking back,” Daxon warned him. “Or worse, I'll make you share a bike with Rodaidh.”

  Conri shut up.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I guess your god doesn't care about illegal enchantments,” Daxon noted as we headed into the house.

  I gave him the look that statement deserved, then headed upstairs.

  “Where's my son?” I heard Dax ask someone.

  “Still in the pool, Your Majesty,” came the reply.

  Then I heard Daxon's footsteps behind me. I headed into our bedroom and fetched my scry phone out of my bag. I wanted to spend time with Caelum but I had to tell my other husbands about Anu first. I'd waited too long as it was.

  “Why don't you just use the ball?” Daxon asked when he saw me pull out the phone.

  “I'm trying to cut down the number of scries I'll have to do,” I said as I headed into his office and over to the aforementioned ball.

  Daxon followed. “A conference scry? But one man will still be left out. If you wait till later tonight, we can take this ball to Enchantments and you can contact them all at once.”

  “That's okay, I'll scry Killian after. I need to speak to him about something else anyway.”

  “What?”

  “Rowan had her first premonition and it was of Killian being hurt.” I flipped open the scry phone's case and propped it against Daxon's crystal ball before settling into the chair before it.

  “She what?” Daxon grabbed my shoulder to get my attention.

  “I've already warned him. Kill should be in Twilight by now anyway. He'll be safe there.”

  “You don't know that he'll be safe there, Seren. What was her vision about?”

  “There was a man with a pearl and the pearl was making a group of other men hurt Killian.”

  “The pearl was?” Daxon blinked. “That's an aggressive collection of oyster sand.”

  “I know. What I don't know is if it's symbolic or literal; you know how visions can be.”

  “Actually, I don't. I've never had one. That's not a common talent for Fairies, remember?”

  “Oh. Right. “Well, they can be odd but all negative visions have one thing in common.”

  “What's that?”

  “They're meant to be a warning, which means that you can stop them from happening.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “What would be their purpose otherwise?” I countered.

  “To prepare you.”

  “No, it's a warning—trust me.”

  “Okay, Seren,” he said softly. “But don't you think it's strange that this premonition presented itself right before Anu did?”

  I froze. Why hadn't that occurred to me?

  “Did any of those visions Anu gave you happen to have a pearl in them?” Daxon pressed.

  “Shit,” I hissed as I tried once more to remember. “I don't know. I told you; they went by so fast.”

  “Okay. Take a second to calm down.” He crouched in front of me and took my hands in his. “Close your eyes and focus.”

  I did as he suggested.

  “Breathe slowly. Deeply,” he went on. “Now try to bring up the images.”

  I evened my breathing and focused. I saw Anu again, heard his voice, then his face was replaced with a barrage of images. I tried to slow them down, tried to concentrate on items instead of people, but the emotions that came with those visions were too distracting. Pain and fear but also desire. Not just physical desire but also a longing for something... for so many things. My
chest ached with need. But weaving through all of those emotions was hope. A bright terrible hope.

  I let go of the visions and opened my eyes. “I can't see anything, not clearly. But Anu said that I'd know what to do. If Rowan's vision had something to do with it, wouldn't I know it?”