The Puppet Master: The Paranormal University Files: Skylar, Year 4

by Savage, Vivienne

  “Can I…?” I glanced around and noticed Stark hawkishly watching us from his desk. Leaning closer, I whispered to the receptionist, “What are my chances of getting a team on short notice if I put in for specific sentinels?”

  “Higher than average,” she whispered back, a hand cupped to the side of her mouth to foil Stark’s attempts to read her lips. “Who do you want, hon?”

  “Stark, Victor, and Holden.”

  “And your fourth?”

  While tempted to ask about Simon or Sebastian, I held my tongue. It seemed rather presumptuous to request the big guns on campus. “Anyone but Gabriel. Pretty sure even initial sketches still count as bad luck when it comes to wedding dresses.”

  “It’s for a wedding dress?” Her eyes lit up with happiness. “I’m on it. Give me a half hour to contact everyone and confirm your outing. You need a mage for your fourth anyway. I have one in mind.”

  “Thanks.” I stepped away and approached Stark’s desk to collect Ama. She stood on his shoulder, alternating between preening his hair and affectionately rubbing her face against his cheek. I thought, Please don’t develop a crush on Stark, but out loud I said, “Hey, Stark. How’s it going?”

  “Hey, Tink. It goes. What was all that about? Ama won’t tell me anything.”

  Good birdie. “Oh, no reason. Where’s Gabe?”

  “Already gone for the day. He finished his paperwork and hauled ass outta here.”

  “Oh. Guess I’ll head that way too. Bye!” I put on what I hoped was an innocent smile and hustled out of the sentinel office for home.

  To save time, Ama and I flew onto the balcony and phased through the glass door into the kitchen, promptly greeted by the smell of frying bacon and grilled cheese. Gabriel flipped a trio of sandwiches on the griddle, fresh from his shower. I eased up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist from behind to breathe in the delightful scent of his body wash. I didn’t press too close. He’d showered. I hadn’t. “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself. Hungry?”

  “Starving. Save me one.”

  Ama glided past us into the living room.

  “Hm. Okay. Have a good run?”

  I released him and stepped away. “Yup.”

  “Anything interesting happen?”

  “Um…” I detected a note of suspicion in his voice. Had Stark called and told him I was up to something?

  Gabriel’s words from years ago came back to me. Our werebear martial arts trainer had told him it was the job of a sentinel to bust up any and all secrets planned by their fae ward; we were usually up to no good.

  And that was true, under most circumstances.

  “Nope, nothing interesting,” I said cheerfully as he cocked a brow. “You’re going to burn the sandwiches!” I scooted into the bathroom, holding in my laughter. Technically, something amazing had happened.

  I emerged from my shower to the sight of my mate on the sofa with Ama, a platter of bacon-stuffed grilled cheese sandwiches on the coffee table beside a pitcher of frosty mimosas.

  “I really do love you.”

  “For more than my cooking?”

  “Yup! For your mixed drink making.”

  Gabriel laughed. Ama echoed him. The two had been almost inseparable since her return, always cuddling in front of a Disney movie or enjoying a flight together around the quad. Sometimes I joined them, but for the most part, I let them bond again.

  It was like watching a daughter return home to her father, and now, as her intelligence grew and she became more faelike, more like me, I couldn’t help but see her as my daughter, too.

  Maybe I already had.

  I joined them on the sofa and ate with Gabriel while Ama occasionally nipped from one of our sandwiches. When she tried to get her beak into his glass, Gabriel swerved it out of the way.

  “Hey. No alcohol.”

  “I am a big girl now.”

  “No alcohol.”

  “Not fair.”

  “Very fair. Alcohol might hurt you.”

  “But I want it.”

  “One sip won’t hurt, Gabe. She’s not a normal bird anymore, remember?”

  “Give me the drink.”

  “One sip.” He held the glass out, trusting her.

  And like a fae, she lived up to my expectations: Ama thrust her entire face into the cup.

  * * *

  A stranger waited for us with Stark by Holden’s van, a tall man in a dark trench coat with a sword handle peeking out from behind the heavy material. Dark hair hung loose around his shoulders and he had a neatly kept mustache and goatee. My first thought was that he looked like an escapee from a renaissance festival—one missing the cavalier hat.

  “Looks like our backup is here,” Holden muttered.

  “Hey, slowpokes,” Stark called over, his usual grin on his face. “We ready for our downtown adventure?”

  “You act as though we’ve never left campus before,” Pilar huffed. “Besides, we aren’t driving all the way downtown.”

  The plan was to park at the nearest station and take the train because Holden hated downtown traffic. That and parking was expensive, and sometimes impossible to find.

  “Well, since you haven’t told me why we’re going downtown, adventure is my word of choice. Maybe don’t devote so much time to fae secrecy.”

  Holden snickered and Pilar scowled at Stark’s comeback. Victor didn’t say much of anything, but I hoped getting him out on a job would help.

  “I didn’t want you to say anything to Gabe,” I said quickly, recognizing Pilar was about to go off on our raven buddy. Stark’s interest perked. “I am going to meet my wedding dress designer.”

  “No shit?” Holden’s voice rose half an octave in surprise. Even Victor lost his perpetually sullen frown.

  “Hear that, Krenov?” Stark asked, smacking the arm of the man beside him. “Wedding dresses. Our baby sentinel is all grown up.”

  “I will punch you,” I threatened. Then I turned to the stranger and offered a smile. “Thank you for accompanying us, Sentinel Krenov. I know this was last minute.”

  “Anton,” he offered in a brusque voice. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but what little accent I heard made me think Eastern European. Maybe Russian? They all sounded similar to me. “It is no problem. This gives me a chance to see more of Chicago.”

  Holden unlocked the driver’s side door and then drew open the side for everyone. “Perfect. Let’s get going then, so we don’t miss our train.”

  * * *

  Our group was an odd assemblage. Like Victor, Anton didn’t say much. Meanwhile, Stark and Holden wouldn’t shut up, debating the merits of ravens over bears in an urban confrontation while Pilar and I swiped through wedding dress pictures on her phone. She had a Pinterest board packed with options. Way too many for passing interest.

  Once we reached the station, we caught an Uber to take us to our final destination uptown. The sentinels complained. None of them appreciated surrendering control to another driver, but we made it in one piece.

  Pilar’s eyes sparkled as we stepped out in front of Bloomingdale’s.

  I grabbed her by the arm before she could sprint inside. “Nuh-uh, girl. We can do a shopping day some other time. Tonight is about me. Besides—” I glanced over my shoulder at Anton’s watchful visage. The man looked like he was expecting a wendigo to leap around the corner at any moment. Maybe one would. I knew better than to have high expectations for the night. “It’ll be more fun when we don’t have a trigger-happy entourage.”

  “Perhaps you are right, though speaking of entourages…” Pilar pulled out her phone and initiated a video call with Liadan. More than anything, I wanted her here with us for such a special opportunity, but this was better than nothing.

  “Are you there yet?”

  “We’re about to walk inside. Ready?”

  “Ready as I can be,” Lia replied. It looked like she had set up her laptop in her room, judging by the stuffed animals and pillows behind her


  “Great, oh my God, I’m so excited, I can’t—” A masculine-shaped shadow fell over Lia. “Is someone with you?” Then I chortled. “Is Oberon there?”

  “What?” The shadow vanished. “No. He never comes to the campus if he can help it. Too many fangirls attracted to his heart song. And he behaves as if muting it is a sin.”

  “But I saw…” Maybe it had been a trick of the light. She had about a thousand stuffed animals in there, growing an army of Pokemon, Beanie Babies, and squishy things she’d crocheted with her own hands.

  “I saw nothing,” Pilar fussed. “Let’s go in already or you’ll be late, Skylar.”

  Victor opened the door and Holden preceded us inside the overwhelmingly pretentious building full of top-name boutiques.

  “I’ll stay outside and maintain the perimeter,” Anton said, as Stark changed shape and took to the air. He’d probably remain airborne the entire time, watching for illusions and trouble while our battlemage did the same on the ground.

  “All right. We’ll be on level four,” I reminded the mage.

  We headed up by elevator, walking Liadan through every step of the way by displaying the expensive garments and the geometric design of the sleek interior. There was glass everywhere and every surface seemed to gleam with light and happiness. Hundreds, if not thousands of people occupied the building at the moment, and all of them were overflowing with emotions.

  I fed on the excitement and drank it in like a sponge. Free faerie dust. Yes.

  When we reached the door of Maimouna’s studio, I hit the buzzer. A red-haired woman with a bright smile ushered us inside.

  “Welcome. Are you Miss Corazzi?”

  “I am, yes.”

  “Wonderful. My name is Ophelia and I will be taking care of anything you and your companions need. If you’ll please follow me.”

  The young woman, human as far as I could sense, led us deeper inside the studio to a small, cozily intimate lounge. She turned to Holden and Victor, waving a hand to indicate they should sit. Both sentinels looked uncertain, Holden especially. Instead of sofas or sturdy armchairs, there were four antique chaises with pink velvet upholstery that looked as if they might snap beneath his bulk, but Ophelia smiled in encouragement until they both made themselves comfortable.

  “Coffee?”

  “Um, yes please,” Holden said.

  “Yes, thank you,” Victor echoed.

  “Wonderful. I’ll see to it right away. Ladies, if you could kindly have a seat over here, I’ll return with champagne and Maimouna will be right with you.” Ophelia directed Pilar and me to another area a few feet away, well within sight of our babysitters. We sat together on an identical chaise and set up Pilar’s phone on the glass coffee table so Lia could have a full view of everything.

  “Did she say champagne?”

  “She did,” I replied in a hushed voice.

  As promised, Ophelia returned shortly with our drinks, as well as various snacks for the guys. Pilar and I didn’t get a charcuterie tray, but we did receive a selection of truffles along with our bubbly. My mouth watered.

  Holden and Victor looked positively out of place with dainty porcelain tea cups in their large hands. Pilar took my phone from my purse and snapped a stealth pic of them.

  “Pilar!” I hissed.

  “What?”

  The boys remained oblivious.

  My nervous jitters evolved into full-fledged anxiety in the moments we were left waiting for Maimouna. What if she decided at the last minute I wasn’t worth our time? What if the price was too steep for my meager bank account?

  “Breathe,” Pilar whispered, squeezing my hand.

  I breathed.

  Then a fae heart song flooded the room with the melodies of a tranquil harp and classical cello. Beautiful and serene flutes joined in whispered notes that twined in perfect harmony.

  Every living creature had a heart song. Some were more difficult than others to hear. Humans were muted, dull, and often simplistic notes like the beats of a drum or cacophony of a toddler slamming a fist against a keyboard. Magical creatures had symphonies. As years went on, we learned to ignore them or they learned to mute them, as Dain did.

  But some people couldn’t be ignored. Some were so overt, so expansive and majestic they overtook entire rooms. They were pulse beats unique to each living person of light, recognizable as fingerprints. One of the first things we learned as children were to silence them. Fae, wizards, shapeshifters, everyone.

  It was a whole thing about etiquette our parents taught us way before PNRU, down with not using our powers to peep in private places and bathrooms. Keep calm, don’t blast your soul to the world, and so on.

  But it was polite, in instances such as first meeting someone. And of course, sometimes we slipped and they came bursting all out at once. I couldn’t hear mine, so I had no idea what it sounded like, but I imagined it had reached an enthusiastic crescendo.

  Maimouna stepped into view seconds later, a stunning vision in an espresso and cream-shaded dress, and far from what I expected. She had the poise of a runway model, but wasn’t much taller than me, and wore her hair in an elegant updo of many braids accented with gold cuffs against her flawless dark skin.

  “Greetings. I’m Maimouna, but you can call me May.”

  I rose from my seat at once, unable to help what bubbled out, “Thank you so much for agreeing to meet us. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “It’s no problem for the daughter of a dear friend.”

  “I had no idea that Dad knew you.”

  “He and I crossed paths while trying to help the same charge, oh, many years ago. Now then, tell me exactly what you have in mind, darling. I’m certain you and your friends have some ideas.”

  “Oh, um, yes and no. This is Pilar and this is Liadan,” I said, gesturing to each in turn. May shook Pilar’s hand and kindly smiled at Lia on the phone. “And our sentinels this evening are also friends. Victor and Holden.”

  “It’s my pleasure to meet all of you. Well, then let us begin with some talk about you and your lucky man.”

  Trying to put myself into words was hard, but telling her about Gabriel was much easier. Every so often May would ask a question, often aimed at my friends, who happily gave their input. The whole time, she sketched on a tablet, the angle making it impossible for me to see anything on the screen.

  “Well, I definitely believe I can help you, dear. It would be an honor to design a dress to celebrate such a fortuitous and unique union.”

  Questions lurked on the tip of my tongue. I’d never commissioned a dress from a private designer before, let alone one who created art for royalty. “Thank you. Um…” It was probably tacky to ask the price. I imagined her streams of wealthy clients never bothered to ask. “How—?”

  “The price is not your concern. Your mother and father have already handled that matter.”

  I blinked. Dad hadn’t mentioned anything about that when we talked. “Oh…”

  Her smile lit the room. “Now, are you ready to see what I have sketched for you?”

  I liked her voice. Her lilting accent was an unusual mishmash of what I had thought was British, only to sound more French the longer we spoke. “Yes, please.”

  “Wonderful.” She turned the tablet to me, and I immediately fell in love.

  14

  Too Good to be True

  The whole time we walked back to the train station, I floated on cloud nine. May had sketched three different designs for me, and when I said I couldn’t possibly choose between them—all had been breathtaking—she laughed.

  They weren’t for me to choose one dress, but for me to select the traits I adored most from each. In the end, with Pilar and Lia’s help, I’d chosen the bodice from one gown, a train from another, and the gorgeous raven feather accents of the third, because white dresses were overdone and dull. Fae never married in them. We liked color far too much. And the symbolic purity of white never represented us.

  The end result wo
uld be sent via e-mail, and in a few weeks, I would return for the first fitting.

  My heart pounded with excitement long after we left and made our way back to the station, still chatting with Lia on Pilar’s phone. We waited less than five minutes on the platform for our train and boarded with a small number of people. Fae in the city accompanied by our sentinels had become a common enough occurrence that no one even glanced our direction. Most people moved to the upper level, but Victor directed us to a group of seats near the exits.

  None of the sentinels in our protection detail sat. They spread out around the train car, and Anton lingered closest to us.

  “I have the perfect sapphires for you to borrow,” Lia gushed. “I’m so excited for you and Gabriel.”

  “And I can do your hair,” Pilar said. “I have some ideas in mind to suit the veil you liked best.”

  We chatted throughout the train ride without input from any of the guys in our company. Holden and Stark were too far away for casual chat, Anton wasn’t much of a conversationalist, and Victor, despite getting out into the city, appeared as sullen as ever. So much for my big plan.

  The car lights flickered, not an unusual occurrence, but the sudden drop in temperature set me on edge. I watched Anton stiffen and turn to search the car. Pilar shivered.

  “Everything all right?” Lia asked.

  “Fine. Feels like the heater stopped working.”

  “Doesn’t have anything to do with the heater. Something’s coming,” Anton muttered. The other sentinels reached into their coats, each removing weapons as the eyes of passengers grew wide with fear. Someone had their damned cellphone out already.

  Always. There was always one person at least who had to capture a magical moment on film. We were trained to ignore them, but that didn’t help my irritation.