by Rhys Ford
“And still trapped here,” Thomas said with a snarl of his own. KJ felt him fluster when the hitcher mentioned taking Star’s power and body, and he didn’t blame him. “Because you can’t leave your own body behind or take it with you.”
“That’s not quite right, Thomas,” David said, licking his teeth behind his lips. “The more powerful the body I take, the bigger my circle grows. KJ could get me most of the city. You’ll get me the entire county, and Star, if she’s as powerful as you brag—well we’ll see how far I can go then.”
“Huh?” KJ asked while he put all the pieces together. “So he’s an undead wizard, kind of a lich? And your body’s under the park. You’re an old resident of this place, which shouldn’t make it too hard to find the real you. Right, Thomas?” While he went on, the volume of his voice increased as KJ tried to make sure Nation would understand him. He and Thomas might be trapped, but the magical cat wasn’t. And because of his promise to Thomas, David knew nothing about the cat.
“RIGHT,” THOMAS said. He had lost a great deal of his power to the circle, but the draining seemed to stop when KJ held his hand. They might’ve only gotten to know each other, outside of KJ’s job, a few days ago, but he thought their link might be more tangible than that—the compass. It was important to both of them emotionally (as was their affection for Star), but the compass had been in Thomas’s possession, among his magical tools, for over twenty years. It was charmed by them both, and with it, they might be able to fight back.
“I pity you. Trapped for at least a century in or around this place. It must have been terrifying when they bulldozed over your grave.” He gave KJ’s hand a squeeze while glaring at the thing in David’s body, and then whispered, “Tell me you didn’t lose the compass on your way out here.”
“No, it’s in my pocket.” KJ looked at Thomas briefly before he pulled it out. “See?”
“I won’t lie,” the hitcher said, “that was frightening until one of the workers literally stumbled on me. I took his body. He was terrified of ghosts, and I used that to take him. Learning to use construction equipment was a challenge, but I learn quickly. It helps that I can absorb the knowledge of my host bodies.”
“Which is how you fooled me,” KJ said while he slipped the compass between his and Thomas’s entwined hands. Thomas held his breath while adjusting his grip to ensure that the antique fit in the space between their palms. “You’re good. Making me think you were David all along. Really good. I doubt you’ll fool Star, though. She’s a fuck of a lot smarter than I am.”
Thomas licked his lips and sighed, feeling the gentle, comforting warmth of the compass that was nothing like the hellish heat holding them prisoner. He grinned when he caught a whiff of Skin So Soft in the air fighting the brimstone and cadaverous scent of the magical trap he was caught in. There was the taste of KJ on his tongue, and as he gripped KJ’s fingers tighter around the disk of bronze and glass, he felt KJ’s untrained power tangle with his own just as their bodies had entwined the night before.
I found it, Nation’s voice touched Thomas’s mind. It’s his skull. Together, Thomas.
“I am falling in love with you,” he told KJ as he brought their foreheads together. “I also have a plan.”
“Yeah, sudden, but I’m okay with it,” KJ said in return. “I can feel you. How you feel, and I think I’m falling for you too.”
“Do you trust me, Kevin-James Beshter?” Thomas asked with all seriousness, because without KJ’s trust and belief in him, he didn’t know if he could save them.
“I do. Trusted you when I was twelve. Trust you more now.” His hazel eyes locked with Thomas’s, and Thomas could see the glossiness of unshed tears in them. “Don’t let him hurt Star. No matter what, Thomas. Do not let him hurt her.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
With his power braiding with KJ’s through their bond—both old and new—Thomas whispered a single word. It was barely pronounceable, a language seldom spoken in several thousand years, an ancient name locked to a tiny golden token stitched into Nation’s broken body by a little girl and powered by her love to bring her cat back to life: Thomas spoke the abomination’s true name.
Forks of blue, green, and purple lightning crackled around the magical trap, making it glow like a plasma globe. Each time it touched the crimson sigils and lines, it changed their hue to match Thomas’s magic. A crash of thunder shook the ground as the hitcher’s spell crumbled, and the creature screamed soundlessly as a single bolt of power bore through the impacted soil to shatter its long-buried skull, sending it to its final death at last.
David’s body pitched forward, his head striking a stone as he hit the ground like a broken puppet. Thomas held on to KJ, each of them needing the other to keep from falling down. They were breathing hard, the air smelling of ozone. The only sound Thomas could hear was his own heartbeat.
“Check on David,” he told KJ when he finally managed to let go of him. “I need to find Nation.”
“Okay.” KJ nodded against Thomas’s shoulder and then tucked the compass away before rushing to his fallen friend. “I’m going to call 911 too. Is that all right?”
“Definitely. I’ll be back soon—I hope.”
Thomas made his way along the edge of the ravine, looking for a way into the darkness, following the connection his magic had with Nation. The tie was still strong, which he prayed meant the cat was all right, but he had no idea how it could handle the significant amount of power they’d just shared to kill the hitcher. “Nation?”
“Fuck, Thomas,” the cat said weakly from the middle of a patch of ice plant. There were scorch marks blasting from what looked like a collapsed tunnel that blackened all but the juicy fireproof plant. “Think I’m broken.”
“I’m sorry, buddy,” Thomas said as he carefully gathered the hairless creature into his shirt. “I’ll get you home and take care of you.”
“Spoil me rotten?” Nation asked as he snuggled against Thomas’s chest.
“You’ll stink for miles.”
“KJ?” DAVID’S voice was shaky as he opened his eyes. His forehead was covered in blood, and KJ was sure he had a concussion at the least. “What happened?”
“Yep, it’s me. Don’t move too much. You hit your head.” KJ dug out his phone, breathing a huge sigh of relief when he had enough bars to call for help. He pressed his palm against David’s chest to keep him from trying to sit up. “My friend had a bad fall in Pioneer Park. We’re on the ravine side, in the trees.”
Two Weeks Later
“DUDE!” DAVID called from the living room couch, where he’d been squatting since being released from the hospital a week ago. He had the TV remote within reach, as well as a big bottle of Gatorade and some more bottles of water. There was also a mostly empty box of Pop-Tarts and half a cold pizza on the coffee table. “You’re going to be late!”
“I am not!” KJ shouted from his bedroom, where he was trying to decide between two new shirts to wear to dinner with Thomas and Star. One shirt was teal and the other was lavender, and he had no idea if he could wear either. All he knew was they were the colors he saw in Thomas’s magic and his soul, so he wanted to wear them.
“What I am is a dork!” A dork in love, which was very much okay with him. “I’m also nervous,” he said as he came into the living room, trying to get both arms through the sleeves of the teal Henley. “What if Star doesn’t like me?”
“What?” David just blinked at him from the sofa, where he was surrounded by piles of books on witchcraft and other reference materials KJ’d borrowed from Thomas. “I’m the one with the head injury who lost three days, right? The girl liked you enough to cast whatever spell she did to set you up to see her dad! Of course she likes you.”
“I know. I’m being an idiot.” KJ grabbed his keys from the kitchen table, along with the flowers he’d bought for Thomas and Star. He cast David a smile filled with fondness. “Are you sure you’ll be okay without me? Thomas will forgive me if I take care of
you.”
“Thomas will strangle me if you miss this dinner, and it’s not like you haven’t spent a few nights over there.”
“When you were in the hospital.”
“Kevin-James, get your ass in that car and go see your boyfriend. Now!” David scooted into a sitting position on the sofa and pointed at the door. “I have a friend coming over who will see to my needs. Do not make me throw one of these heavy magic books at you. Get out!”
“Remind me to remind you that this is my house in the morning!” KJ said as he headed out the door.
“As long as it’s in the morning, and don’t lock the door. That way I don’t have to get up to let Tracy in!”
THE KITCHEN smelled like Italian sausage, garlic, and cheese. Thomas bent before the oven, pulling out the largest glass pan they owned, filled almost to overflowing with lasagna. He carefully placed it on the cooling rack so the cheese could firm up before they cut into it. There were three place settings on the kitchen table, a bottle of wine, and a fresh loaf of garlic bread he’d made with sourdough.
It was almost six thirty. He’d left Equinox closed for the day while he prepared Star’s—and KJ’s—favorite meal. Thomas wanted it to be perfect. She would be home from summer camp any moment, and KJ would be getting there soon as well.
“She’s here!” Nation said, his voice flavored with a very feline yowl as he pressed his paws against the bay window. “Star’s home!” His injuries had healed within days of their victory over the hitcher, but Thomas was worried he was in for a talking-to once she found out what had happened to the four of them.
Below them, the shop’s bells jingled as she let herself in the front door, and then there was the familiar thunder of her feet on the steps. Thomas was gracious and let Nation greet her first by dancing between her legs until she picked him up, and then the cat got wedged between the two of them as they hugged on top of him. “Hey, can’t breathe!”
“So glad you’re home,” Thomas said before kissing her forehead and the top of her head. The green streaks in her hair were now brilliant blue, and she smelled like sunshine, pine trees, and a hint of coconut from her sunscreen. The bridge of her nose was pinked from the sun, and she looked both wild and grown-up at the same time.
“Would’ve been here sooner if you’d given me permission. Are you guys okay?” Star stepped away, turning Nation over to look at him from end to end for damage. “You were very brave, baby boy.”
“I know,” Nation said, preening under her attention as she carried him to the front room while Thomas dragged her luggage into her room.
“He was very brave. Saved us.” Thomas reached over and scratched the top of Nation’s head. “Go wash up. Dinner will be ready as soon as KJ gets here.”
“KJ, huh?” Star teased on her way to the bathroom. “I see it’s not Mr. Beshter.”
“It isn’t for me,” Thomas told her just as the back door opened and KJ stepped inside. Both of them smiled brightly as KJ crossed through the kitchen to Thomas. “Might still be for you, missy.”
“For you.” KJ smiled, and they shared a kiss as he handed Thomas a trio of red roses. “These are for Star,” he said, holding up a bunch of daisies. “They’re your favorite, right?”
“They are,” she said, a twinkle in her dark eyes after seeing them kiss. “Favorite dinner. Favorite flowers. Favorite cat. Favorite dad. Favorite teacher. So, you guys got a big story to tell me. Don’t leave anything out.”
Elf Shot
By TA Moore
All Conri wanted was to drop his kid off at Changeling camp, find the nearest halfway nice hotel, and enjoy a week of uncomplicated debauchery. It should be simple. It doesn’t work out that way.
When a local girl disappears, the neighborhood quickly lays blame at the well-guarded gates of the camp. With his son incriminated, a mystery to solve, and a malevolent pocket of the Otherworld to navigate, Conri will need all the help he can get—even if it does come from a distractingly pretty, tightly wound Iron Door agent who doesn’t trust Conri to be on the right side.
To my mum, who always encouraged me to have my head in the clouds. And to the Five, who told me to stop messing around and get my fingers on a keyboard.
Intro
IT WAS always—always—in the name.
They made no attempt to hide it, and yet, as it always was, their very openness served to deceive. We knew it, of course we did after so many years, but…. But. They gave us back our children. How could we look that gift horse in the mouth? Even now I don’t see what else we could have done, but we should have known.
Because what they took. They changed.
What they took were children. What they gave back were changelings.
-- The Honorable Andrew Boyd, the American Ambassador-at-Large to the Courts of the Otherworld
Chapter One
“UGH,” FINN groaned. He rested his head against the window and glowered at the town as they drove through. “Just when I thought camp couldn’t get any worse, they go and make it redneck. We’re going to have classes in marrying our sisters and how to chew tobacco in company.”
Raising a fey child was a waiting process. Wait to see if the cellophane thing of thorn bones and rose-petal skin that you’re given survives the first harsh winter. Wait for it to grow out of the homely and unwholesome years (fingers crossed it would), and then hope against hope that it would become, at least vaguely, less of an asshole.
Conri glanced at Finn out of the corner of his eye. So far his kid had made it through stage one and… most of stage two. All Conri needed now was for Finn to act like a fourteen-year-old and not a feral marten found in a tree stump.
Goals. Every parent should have them.
“I believe the proper term is ‘bakky,’” Conri said dryly. “And you don’t have any siblings.”
“Yeah, don’t remind me. I’m socially stunted because I’m an only child,” Finn groused. “And whose fault is that, Conri?”
Conri took his eyes off the narrow road long enough to give Finn an exasperated look.
“Well, it’s not mine.”
“Oh, right,” Finn muttered as he tucked his chin down and scowled out at the world through copper-red curls. “Throw it in my face that I’m adopted the minute I don’t do what you want. That’s A-plus parenting, Conri. My future therapist wants to send you a thank-you card.”
To be honest, Conri had thought he needed to downgrade his expectations for Finn. Maybe he should give up on “able to socially pass as a person” and aim for “domesticated marten.”
“Don’t tell me your real dad wouldn’t treat you this way,” Conri said.
“Well, he wouldn’t.”
“No. He’d have turned you into a tree and left you for the first stray princess to take on as a project.”
“At least he wouldn’t abandon me in the wilderness once a year so he could go and lay some pipe.”
Conri grimaced. He’d tried his best to adapt to life in LA, but he was still a priest-fearing Cornish boy at heart. Some things he didn’t want to hear out of his fourteen-year-old ward.
“It’s the law.”
“It used to be the law that you threw changelings in a roaring fire,” Finn said. “Would you have done that too?”
“Some days,” Conri muttered under his breath.
“I heard that.”
Of course he did. Conri considered an apology, but they’d been in the car for fourteen hours straight. He was going to give himself a mulligan on that one. The rental GPS came to life all of a sudden and told him to turn left on Naecross Road.
Conri swore to himself as he leaned forward over the wheel to peer at the sun-faded street names on the sides of buildings.
Kendall.
Rowan.
Nail and Cross.
Shit.
He spun the wheel to take the corner tightly and then hit the brakes as he nearly plowed into the thin woman halfway across the pedestrian crossing. The car screeched to a halt inches away fro
m faded jeans, and the woman glared at them with dull, small-town suspicion.
“Sorry,” Conri said as he stuck his head out the window. It was hot, the sort of hot that hit you like a slap. “GPS. Do you know where the Kemp Farm is from here?”
“I do.”
Conri stared at her for a second, then grinned thinly.
“Not going to tell us, though,” he said. “Right?”
She spat on the hood of the car, her candy-pink lips pursed with ripe disgust.
“This is a good, church-going town,” she said. “Barry Kemp should be downright ashamed he signed that contract. We don’t want you around here. You ain’t welcome. Ain’t that supposed to mean something to you people?”
Finn stuck his head out his side. “No, see, you’re thinking vampires,” he said in his thickest Cali drawl, maliciously helpful and syrup sweet. “Have to be invited? Don’t like garlic? Fey don’t like iron and small-minded, smaller-town bit—”
His insult was cut off as Conri grabbed him by the back of his T-shirt and yanked him back into the car. He jabbed his finger on the button to roll the window up before Finn could squirm loose, but it was a bit late. The woman had definitely already heard, her ears gone so red they glowed through her bleached-blond hair. Ah well, Conri had tried. The world couldn’t ask more of him.
“Go to the farm and rot there,” the woman spat at them. “We’re not going to stand for the soulless to be brought amongst us like this. Everyone knows what happens to towns that make the likes of you welcome!”
She slapped the hood of the car and stomped off.
Finn watched her go and then turned to glower at Conri. He didn’t say anything, just gestured extravagantly after her with one arm. As if the departing Uggs spoke for themselves. Conri supposed he might have a point, not that he would admit it.
