Light Fae Academy: Year Two

by Nala Kingsley

  “Why do you want me with him so desperately? Why won’t he flirt with you? He flirts with all of the other girls,” I point out.

  “I just don’t think that I’m his type,” she says.

  I gape at her. “If you think I’m his type, then how in the world—”

  “Relax. I’m not talking about looks. Don’t be so superficial. I’m talking about personality-wise.”

  We’re quiet for a bit.

  “Bay?”

  “Yeah, Rosemary?”

  “What are you hiding from me?”

  “I’m… Fine. You get one question.”

  I purse my lips. I already asked one, and she avoided it. Asking it again will only annoy her, and even though I know that’s playing into her hand, I opt for another one.

  “Did you already know Damon somehow? Before the school year? There’s just something… off about you two.”

  “No, I didn’t know Damon.” Bay inhales deeply before admitting, “but I do know his father. He had been, well, he was my supplier.”

  I back to gaping at her. “Seriously? Do I even want to know what you had to give his dad to get the fairy dust?”

  “All you need to worry about is that I don’t know if Damon was involved or not in his father’s business. I don’t want any ties to that, so Damon’s off my radar, even if I hadn’t already pegged him for you.”

  I stare at her curiously. “Why do you want me with Damon then?”

  Bay’s uncharacteristically serious. “Because you pulled me out of some darkness, and if he needs that, who better to help him than the lightest fairy here?”

  My eyes well with tears. “Oh, Bay.” I throw an arm around her.

  “Don’t get all mushy on me,” she grumbles, but after a moment, she gives me a one-armed hug back. “You can overdo the light bit sometimes, but—”

  “Hey, do you think that’s what happened with Mom and Dad?” I ask.

  "Light and dark don't know. I know they say that opposites attract, so maybe that plays a role."

  “Well, Damon is attractive, there’s no denying that,” I admit.

  “Yeah, you would have to be blind to not notice that.”

  I hesitate. “Do you think he could be faithful, though?”

  “You know how to ensure that.”

  “I shudder. “I’m not going to get married so young!”

  “You’re the one worried about him being faithful and wanting to be in a serious relationship. There’s no need for that right now. We’re young, but if you want to do you, you can go ahead. Some fairies do marry young.”

  “Let’s ban the ‘M’ word for now, okay?”

  “Geez, fine.” Bay laughs as she stretches her arms out behind her, leaning back.

  “It’s just… Like I said, he flirts with everyone but you.”

  “Has he kissed you yet?”

  “No. Why? Have you seen him kiss other girls?”

  She says nothing, which, of course, makes me think she has.

  “Maybe instead of his turning more light, I’ll turn more dark.” I bite my lower lip.

  “You are a little more dark,” Bay says.

  I side-eye her.

  “Fern might’ve seen that stunt you two pulled. I can’t believe it. Sage is right about one thing. You are a daredevil. Jumping out of a plane with your wings tied? Seriously? That’s insane!”

  “It’s not exactly dark,” I hedge.

  “It’s certainly not light! It’s badass. You’re badass.”

  “You would’ve done it?” I ask Bay.

  Her eyes sparkle. “I think I would’ve.”

  “Just think?” I’m surprised.

  “It’s easy enough to say, oh, damn straight, I would’ve done it, but until you’re in that position, until the binding of your wings… You really had to have trusted Damon to allow him to do that.”

  I bite my lower lip.

  “Sage never would’ve asked that of you, would he have?”

  “No, but it is almost too much to ask.”

  “Again, you allowed Damon. I think it’s clear who you want, but you’re afraid. Why? Because of who he is? Because he’s half-demon? He can’t change who his parents are.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re judging him a little unfairly, aren’t you? Is that it?”

  “I’m afraid I’ll lose myself if I keep spending time with him,” I murmur. “I’ll give in to him every time, in some stupid attempt to win his approval or something like that. It had been so terrifying. Exhilarating, maybe, but terrifying without a doubt.”

  “Isn’t that life, though?” Bay counters. “Exhilarating and terrifying. It’s not a bad thing to test your personal limits. If he pushes too hard, say no, but he hasn’t even kissed you. He’s letting you dictate even if you have to be going a hell of a lot slower than he would want. That has to mean something.”

  I blow out a breath, uncertain what to think.

  “I… I think I’m going to go to bed now,” I say even though I doubt I’ll be able to quiet my mind enough for me to be able to sleep anytime soon.

  “One more thing,” Bay says. “Do not let his father’s actions keep you away. The sins of the father aren’t the sins of the son.”

  “They are if the son partakes in those activities,” I mumble.

  “Then talk to him,” she urges.

  “He can lie. He’s part-demon after all.”

  “Then get to know him well enough that he’ll tell you the truth if you think he might lie if you ask him now.”

  I nod slowly.

  We hug, say goodnight, but it takes me several hours before I can get my traitorous mind to stop conjuring mental images of Damon doing lines of fairy dust or distributing it as a drug dealer.

  Chapter 18

  It's Saturday now. No classes, but I have a busy day ahead. Sage and I need to work on our project, and then shortly before dinner, Damon and I will get started. Damon promised to feed me, and I'm not sure what to expect from that. It's not a date. Neither of us phrased it that way at least. I'm just trying to get through these projects. Then, I can maybe decide what to do about the boys. And I still need to find a way to stop the nightmares.

  Before I can leave, Orchid grabs my arm. “Do you have a minute?” she asks.

  “Sure thing. What do you need?”

  “A chance to talk to you. Things have been so busy this year that I feel like we haven’t had much time to talk even though we share a room.”

  I roll my eyes. “I wish year two would’ve come with a warning about how much heavier the workload is.”

  “Right?”

  “Anything in particular you want to talk about?” I ask.

  Orchid flies over and sits on the edge of her bed. “You’ve been talking in your sleep.”

  “I am?” My heart starts to pound.

  She nods.

  “What have I been saying?”

  "You've been talking about daggers and magic. It's the murders, isn't it?"

  I say nothing.

  “Do you want to ask Wren to talk to Pine about it? Maybe he can find out how the investigation is going so your mind can be at ease.”

  “I don’t know why it’s affecting me so much,” I mumble, running a hand down my face.

  “It’s because you had your first major brush with darkness. You fought it. You’re light.”

  “Not completely,” I mutter. “Everyone thinks I’m more light than I am.”

  Her grin is small. She’s too serious about this, and it makes my stomach churn.

  “You feel called to fight the darkness, don’t you? Even if the darkness is a blight to humans and not fairies.”

  I gape at her. “I never…”

  "My great-grandma used to tell me stories about how, in the olden days, fairies and humans worked and lived together. It was well before her time even. Any issue, any problem, the two species would work together to solve the crimes. A lot of times, the officers would work together in pairs, one fae and one
human. Maybe those fae felt what you're feeling. They say that fae magic can sometimes trickle down through generations, bypassing some. That's why not all fairies have the same magical abilities. That and the so-called contamination with human blood with fae-human intermingling." She shivers.

  “You don’t like the idea of fairies and humans?” I ask.

  Her eyes widen. “Rosemary! If anyone hears you and tells the court—”

  “Come on. We’re all free-thinking fairies here. We all live outside the courts.”

  “Yes, but I have a feeling that the courts are going to try to expand their reach soon.”

  “Why?” I narrow my eyes. “Not because of last year, right?”

  “Possibly. It’s not helping matters, and the fairy dust trade is a lot more prominent here than under either court.”

  I groan and shake my head. “I just want to be free.”

  “We all do.” She hesitates. “And the opposite of freedom is—”

  “Death,” I murmur.

  “Captivity,” Orchid finishes, eyeing me with confusion.

  “Think about it. If you’re free, you’re living. You’re experiencing, doing, enjoying, loving. You’re able to do everything and anything. Even if captivity, you’re still able to breathe and think. They can’t stop your mind. But if your heart is stopped, if you’re dead…”

  “You’re morbid. Has anyone told you that?”

  I shrug. “Morbid and light don’t exactly go together, now, does it?”

  I’m giggling, but she’s not amused.

  “If death is your biggest fear—” she starts.

  “I never said that.”

  "Clearly, it is. That's why you can't stop thinking about the murders, isn't it? And the murders are keeping you up at night, even more so than the boys."

  “Am I that obvious?”

  “Focus on them,” she advises.

  “Sage?” I ask dryly.

  “Him or Sage or pick someone new. I don’t care. Just shift your focus, and maybe your worries about the murderer will go away.”

  I bite my lower lip. I really should go, but now that we’re talking about something I’ve been trying to bury unsuccessfully, I realize I need help.

  “Why am I so stuck on this?” I ask softly.

  Orchid flies over and rubs my back. “I think at least one of your ancestors had to have helped humans.”

  “And then humans killed a few fairies, and fairies wiped their memories and went into hiding.” I shake my head. “Some fairies still hate humans. Do you think a human couldn’t have killed them?”

  “The force required for a hand or a throw to imbed the weapons that deeply… No. It was done through magical means. A fae has to be the murderer.”

  “Or a demon.”

  She lifts her eyebrows.

  I flush. “I don’t think everyone realizes this, but Damon’s one parent is a demon.”

  She blinks a few times but says nothing.

  “Still think I’m a fairy descendant of a human-lover if I’m entertaining the idea of dating a half-demon?”

  “One has nothing to do with the other… except that I think, to some extent, all investigators have to be a bit of a thrill-seeker.” Orchid sounds so very sad.

  “What is it?” I ask her.

  “I’m worried.”

  “About me? Don’t be. I’ll be fine.”

  Orchid hugs me. “I don’t have a good feeling.”

  “About what? About me? Damon? Is it a premonition?”

  “I’m not sure. To have one come without even trying is very unsettling. I’m going to have to investigate this.”

  I grin, and she winks.

  “Just be careful,” Orchid urges.

  “I will be. Orchid?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you. I didn’t realize how much I needed this talk.”

  Orchid grins, finally a full one that reaches her eyes. “I’m always on your side, Rosemary. Your side, not any guy’s. Just be true to you.”

  “Even if that means I have to start investigating?” I murmur.

  "Try to hold back on those instincts, at least for now. At least until Wren is able to talk to Pine, okay?"

  “Okay.”

  I fly out of the cottage and head toward my meeting spot with Sage. There’s a chance I won’t be late, and my thoughts churn. Plant healing is the last thing on my mind. I have no idea if Orchid is right about my fairy ancestors, and I’m not sure asking Mom would be a good idea. She might freak. Then again, if I pretend it’s for an assignment…

  Bending the truth. Twisting words. Not light activities at all, but all fairies attempt word plays in order to get around not being able to tell lies. Honestly, it’s a skill fairy investigators most likely need.

  Healing humans. Investigating their murders. What next? I refuse to even contemplate dating a human. I’m not crossing that line, but if fairies and humans were once partners, why can’t they be again?

  Maybe because too many fairies hate humans, and one seems to hate them enough to kill them.

  As much as I think I might be a little darker than I was before I ever flew to Light Fae Academy, I’m nowhere near as dark as the world.

  Chapter 19

  Sage is just arriving when I do, and I force a laugh, doing my best to act normal.

  “And here I was worried I’d be late,” I say.

  “Perfect timing on both of our parts.” He smiles. “You ready to get to work?”

  “Sure. Have you come up with any ideas yet?”

  “No. You?”

  I sigh. "I checked a few books out of the library, but there are so many different things that can affect a plant, so many cures… It's cruel to the plant."

  “What is?”

  “This assignment.”

  “Only if we use the wrong spell to heal it.”

  “Precisely! If we choose wrong, the plant will die!”

  “And we fail.”

  I stare at him and slowly shake my head. “It’s more than just a grade.”

  Sage laughs. “Daredevil’s worried we’ll kill the little plant, isn’t she?”

  “Daredevil doesn’t want to cause death,” I retort, smiling despite myself.

  “What does daredevil want to cause?” he asks.

  I clamp my mouth shut because the first thing that comes to mind is desire. So not the word to say to Sage. Not yet. Maybe if we grow closer.

  Do I still want to grow closer to Sage? I don’t dream about him, but I do daydream, and the memory of the feel of his hot, muscular body over mine is something I’ll never forget.

  Even Damon knows I’ll never forget that experience. I gave Sage a piece of me. Will I come to regret that? Or will Sage and I find a way to move forward despite our setback? Or will I move on, accept what Sage and I have, and find happiness, desire, and pleasure with someone else?

  “I want to cause…” My mind goes blank. I can’t think of any other “d” words. “Dessert.”

  Sage laughs. “Let me guess. Chocolate?”

  “You can never go wrong with chocolate.”

  “I don’t know. I like my nuts separate from chocolate.”

  “Even chocolate sauce?” I quip.

  “Chocolate sauce? Too sweet usually.”

  “If someone else…” I clear my throat and have to change the subject. I am not channeling Bay right now, but I can’t stop myself from thinking about drizzling chocolate sauce all over Sage’s body including his balls and licking every drop from his sweaty, salty body.

  “If someone else what?” he asks.

  I’m staring at the grass, not at him, so I have no idea what his expression is like, if he has any idea what I’m thinking.

  “If someone else brings me chocolate, with nuts, without, with chocolate sauce, without, I’m not going to complain.”

  “Ah, easy to please, huh?”

  “I try to be.” I manage to meet his gaze and smile, but I hope my face isn’t red from embarrassment.

>   “I’ve been talking to a few of the third-years,” he says, changing the subject, much to my relief.

  “Ones who took our course?” I assume.

  He nods.

  “Sage, now, now. Isn’t that cheating?”

  “It’s called being thorough. It’s an interview process with experts. Shouldn’t that be encouraged?”

  “And what did you learn?”

  “That over half of the class every year flunks this assignment.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yep. Did you find anything at all worthwhile in the books?”

  “Here. Let’s go back to my room. I have the books checked out still.”

  “Why don’t you get the books and bring them here?” he suggests. “I’ll go bring the plant.”

  I bite my lower lip. “Or do you want me to bring the books to your cottage?”

  “Nah. We’ll do it here. The plant is sturdy and hardy enough to be flown here.”

  “And if we can’t solve its ailment and has to be flown back?”

  “I’ll fly carefully,” he promises.

  It doesn’t take five minutes for us, the books, and the plant to all be on the hill. We dive through the books, our heads bent over, almost touching. Our plant is a dragon’s viny bloom, and its normal green hue is blue with yellow spots. Worse, it’s also developing what looks like red veins throughout.

  “When did that happen?” I ask, pointing to the red.

  “On the flight over,” Sage admits.

  I wince. “From the wind?”

  “From more direct exposure to sunlight? From being jostled? Who can say?” He shrugs.

  “You would think this wouldn’t be so hard,” I groan.

  “Seriously. I mean, how many plant ailments are there? And how many cause yellow spots and that red pattern? Far more than you would think.”

  We work and work and work, but every theory I come up with, he shoots down, and vice versa. It’s enough to make me want to go batty, and I lean my head back, facing the sky, eyes closed. Warmth from the sun washes over me, and I open my eyes and look at Sage.

  “What is it?” he asks, looking up to catch my gaze.

  “It’s past lunchtime, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” he confirms. He rubs his stomach. “And now that I think about it, I’m starving.”