Hidden Ashes: Reigning Fae Book 1

by AC Washer

  I swallowed. “After the investiture—after this last time—no more drugs?” I avoided Deena’s gaze, the pity seeping from it.

  My mom didn’t even glance at me, her eyes glued to the needle lying on the floor. “Without them…” Shaking her head, she dragged her gaze back to mine. “I did it for you, though. I’m chose this” —she gestured down at her emaciated body and flashed a mottled-brown smile— “so you could be free.”

  The taste of bile filled my mouth. How long had she been on drugs? And what were they? Maybe she could get off of them. We’d find her a good program somewhere and…

  But even as I grasped at the possibility she could become the mother I’d always craved, I couldn’t close my eyes and ignore the truth staring at me in the face. She would never be the person that six-year-old me had envisioned—she looked as if there was no coming back.

  But maybe fae were different…maybe there was hope for her after all this.

  But as soon as I had the thought, I shook it away. If I did the investiture—if everything worked out the way she’d planned—then what? She’d go off drugs and let the queen overtake her? That didn’t make any sense. What was she planning on doing, muscling the queen out of her mind again by shooting up again?

  In my gut, I knew that was exactly what she was planning.

  The silence stretched on longer and longer, filling me with the need to say something—anything.

  “Th-thank you.” The words sounded empty, even to my own ears. I scoured my brain for something else to say, but shock had dampened my ability to focus on anything other than the haggard face of the stranger in front of me.

  My mother, I corrected myself.

  My stomach twisted into knots until I had to look away from her. I turned back to Caleb.

  “Will you go back, Kella?”

  I swallowed. “I-I’ll go back, but first I need to help him.”

  Silence. A backward glance told me she was staring at the needle across the floor.

  I swallowed and stepped toward Caleb. Uncertain of what to do, I placed my palm on the inside of his elbow. His skin warmed my hand, and I might have felt a tingle of energy, but aside from that, nothing.

  I focused on the tingle and closed my eyes. Heal, I thought to myself—to the magic Mickey said was inside of him. Heal. I tried to imagine my magic listening, obeying.

  After a few minutes, Deena coughed. I cracked open my lids to see if anything had changed, but no such luck. Not a big surprise. I’d been sure I’d feel something when I was using magic, but so far, I hadn’t felt a thing.

  Maybe I had to touch the site of the injury.

  I looked down at his abdomen, took a breath, and placed my trembling fingers over his hospital gown.

  Nothing. Even the tingle was absent now.

  This wasn’t happening. He should be healing. It was my magic keeping him alive and now that I was closer, it should be stronger.

  Maybe it needed to be skin-to-skin to work…

  I searched his body, fumbling around for a convenient hole or tie for easy access.

  “Kella, do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Deena asked.

  “No, she doesn’t,” that hoarse voice said. I looked back to see my mother, a weary expression pinching her face.

  “Can you tell me how to heal him?”

  No response.

  “How do I get Caleb better? Nothing I’m doing is working. It’s not—it has to, but… You know what I need to do. Help me!”

  My mom shook her head. “You help him by completing the investiture.”

  “No! No, I need to heal him before…I think Mickey or Edon or someone is going to kill him so I get my magic back.”

  Something like sadness flashed across her face at the mention of my dad’s name. She shook her head. “He won’t kill him. Not with me here. He doubts me. He doubts my strength… But I won’t fail…” She trailed off as if lost in thought.

  “Mickey…” I hesitated, part of me not wanting to know—to not have one more item added to the list of things he had kept from me. “Mickey knows you’re alive?”

  But she didn’t answer, her eyes looking out, unfocused, as if she were lost in a memory.

  I shook my head as I squished the revelations and secrets and messed-up family dynamics to the side. There was too much circling around my head right now, and I needed to focus on what was most important.

  “Ashlyn?”

  No answer.

  “Ashlyn?” I tried again. No answer.

  Finally, I said, “Mom.”

  Her eyes snapped to mine.

  I swallowed. “What about Caleb? If I leave, nothing changes. Everyone’s still trapped. There’s no magic to heal him.”

  “My sweet Kella,” my mother said, her voice breaking into a cough, “if you’re a good girl and do what I ask, I’ll promise you something. I’ll promise to take care of him for you.”

  I sucked in a breath. “You can heal him?”

  “If you go back and do the investiture, I’ll take the power back long enough to help your brother. I will do that for you.”

  The decision was an easy one. I nodded like a bobble head. “Deal,” I said.

  She grinned.

  “I mean, I swear.”

  Her grin grew wider, but instead of being comforting, the half-rotted teeth she’d exposed made me more uneasy than before. Why was I trusting her with the person I loved the most in the entire world—the person I’d do anything for?

  But that was easy to figure out. It wasn’t because she had sacrificed herself for me—although that should have been reason enough. I simply had no other choice. I didn’t know how to heal Caleb, just like Mickey had said, and no one else could do it—not with their magic trapped in their glamours.

  “It’ll be all right, Kella. Don’t you worry. Mama will take care of you,” she crooned. She swiped a hand across her cheek. “Look at you, so grown up. Come here so I can touch you.”

  I swallowed but obeyed, tears blurring my vision as I tried not to stare at her sun-spotted, emaciated face, her distant blue eyes.

  My mom cupped a trembling hand around my cheek, her palm more papery than soft. “I wish I could see how you truly look,” she said, a sigh escaping her mouth, her breath smelling like rotten fruit.

  “Kella,” Deena murmured, looking at her phone.

  “I—we need to go. Please just…” I whipped my head between my mom and Caleb. “You’re sure you can heal him?”

  “I’ll have my power back soon enough. I’ll help him then. But until that happens, you need to do your part.”

  I nodded

  “Now be a good girl. Listen to Mommy.”

  “O-okay, I’ll just—” My words broke apart as a tremor shook her body.

  “Go now. Don’t make them come after you or they’ll find me, and everything I’ve worked for…gone.”

  I stared at her emaciated body, the bags under her yellowed eyes. I watched her hands tremble as she struggled to dominate the need racking her body. For the first time, I saw the mother who didn’t run—the mother who sacrificed everything so I would have a chance. I found myself nodding, even though I felt sick to my stomach that I was leaving Caleb again—not that I had another choice.

  Deena nudged me, and I let her lead me out of the room and down the hall, out of the hospital and back to the parking lot.

  We didn’t say anything. There really wasn’t anything to say. Deena simply stood next to me, her arm slung around my shoulders as we waited for the fae to show up.

  We didn’t wait long.

  Ten minutes later, Officer Louie pulled up alongside us. From the set of his mouth, I could tell he was glaring at us behind his sunglasses.

  “Him.” Deena said under her breath. “He acts like an animal.”

  I shrugged.

  “Well, I have a way with animals,” Deena said as Louie rolled down the car window. She leaned closer to whisper, “I’m gonna get under his thick skin and make him squirm.”
>
  Was she going on about Louie to distract me from everything? If that was the goal, it wouldn’t work, but I was grateful for the attempt anyway.

  “Thought I’d have to pull you away from your brother,” Louie said.

  “It didn’t work.” I didn’t have to fake the tremor in my voice. “I couldn’t heal him.”

  Officer Louie shook his head. “Don’t know what made you think you could.” Somewhat gentler, he added, “Now in the back.”

  I quietly complied, but Deena stood there with a stubborn set to her face.

  “You too,” he said, more gruff than before.

  “Oh, I know,” she said. “I’m just waiting, that’s all.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  “For you to ask me politely.”

  “Ma’am…”

  “Now that’s a good start.”

  Officer Louie clenched and unclenched his jaw.

  “… please get in the back. Now.”

  “Well, since you asked so nicely…” Deena flounced in.

  “I liked you better when you were snoring,” he muttered.

  He caught Deena’s look of disbelief in the rearview mirror and grinned.

  “Snoring?” Deena said. “I don’t snore. Kella, tell him I don’t snore.”

  “Fae can’t lie,” I said as I stared out the window, wondering if I’d made a mistake. I hoped my mother knew what she was doing—that I’d made the right choice.

  Deena patted my knee, but I barely felt it. Please let this not be a mistake.

  Chapter 20

  I’d expected Louie to take us back to the precinct. Instead, he turned on vomit road and drove past the turnoff, past the spot I’d named the road after, and all the way to the cabin Edon pointed out a month ago.

  “Out,” he said, opening our doors so we could exit.

  “Such a gentleman,” Deena said as she slid out of her seat, batting her deep brown eyes like she got a lash caught inside her eyelid.

  Louie’s mouth tightened.

  Deena brushed past him and stopped in front of the dark brown cabin doors. I followed her reluctantly.

  My mom had a plan. She said she’d keep Caleb alive. It had to work. It had to. At least that’s what I tried to convince myself as Louie came up from behind, opened the door, and nudged us into the inside.

  “You.” He pointed at Deena. “Sit over there.” He swung his finger to an overstuffed chocolate leather sofa to his right. The living room was full of browns. Light, knotted wood on the floors, walls, and vaulted ceiling. Dark leather furniture, a deep brown shag rug. The only thing that broke up the color scheme was the enormous stone fireplace that acted as another wall separating the living area from the kitchen.

  Deena smiled and said, “As you wish.” She strolled over and fluffed a pillow before turning to sit down.

  “And you,” he said, pointing at me, “in the kitchen.”

  I shot Deena a look. She shrugged.

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s where the pixies want to get you ready for the investiture.”

  “But it’s not for a couple of days.”

  Louie’s face was grim. “The council bumped it up because you’re a flight risk. Why postpone it after you ran?”

  I shrugged, letting Louie lead me to a gourmet kitchen with two sets of double ovens, a ridiculously huge island lined with oil-rubbed bronze barstools, and an enormous gas range.

  “So, um, how’s Edon doing?” I asked, sliding onto one of the cushioned stools.

  “Fine.”

  “He’s awake, then?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” I thought back to the deal we’d made about him being my escort. Trying not to get my hopes too high, I asked, “Does that mean he’ll no longer be able to go?”

  Louie leaned against the island, folding his beefy arms. “He should wake up soon.”

  “Ah.”

  The doorbell rang, and Deena jumped up from the sofa. “I’ll get it,” she said.

  “No, sit down. I’ll get it.”

  “Such a gentleman.”

  Louie glared at her. She smiled right back at him, a malicious gleam in her eye.

  “Sit.”

  Deena stayed standing.

  “Please.”

  Her smile broadened as she complied. “Look at you, learning so quickly.”

  Louie’s jaw clenched as he jerked open the door.

  Two human-glamoured pixies blew in like a tornado of neon pink and green tulle, their supermodel looks offset by flashy sequined tops.

  The red-headed one wore her hair in a beehive updo. She tapped pink lensless glasses as she looked me up and down and turned to whisper to a pixie with tight cornrows that twirled into a braided bun on top of her head, sparkling beads threaded in against the black backdrop. The other pixie nodded, whispering back. They circled around me, eyes speculative, and reached for my hair. I jumped back. They glanced at each other and burst into giggles.

  I scowled, but that only seemed to encourage them. Soon, the pixies were taking turns scowling at each other until they doubled over, clutching their stomachs as they gasped for air.

  “Pixies!” Louie roared. The laughter stopped as suddenly as it had erupted. The pixies straightened up and looked at Louie glaring at them from the open door they’d stormed through moments before.

  “You’re here for one reason, so get to it.”

  They nodded like bobble heads and turned toward me, mirth lurking in their eyes.

  Louie trudged over to the same sofa as Deena but sat down as far from her as the piece of furniture would allow, gesturing for the pixies to continue.

  They did, moving quicker than I thought possible. They chatted away about my hair color, its underlying tone, the shade my dress would be, contrast or no contrast, various updos. My head spun just trying to keep up with the constant stream of high-pitched chatter. I looked imploringly at Louie, hoping that he’d somehow help me. His lips twitched in a smile as he grabbed a pair of bright orange earplugs, anchoring them in his ears. Smart guy. Griffin. Man-griffin.

  One pixie pulled half of my hair to the left, the other to the right, my head weaving sharply to each side in a vain attempt to relieve the pressure on my scalp.

  “No,” Beehive said, jerking her half of my hair toward her like some kid saying mine. “We need to smooth the curls.”

  The left side of my head jerked toward Cornrows. “No, keep them. I should know.”

  Beehive considered Cornrows for a moment. “But her hair isn’t like yours. Unless you braid your hair, it poofs up into a giant frizz ball.”

  Cornrows gasped. I breathed a sigh of relief as my hair fell out of her grip, her hands now clenched to her heart. “A giant frizz ball—that’s what you think?” Cornrows folded her arms, her shock melting into a glare. “I guess I should have expected that from an artistic ignoramus who struts around looking like a conehead.”

  It was Beehive’s turn to gasp, hand touching her hair. “Why I—”

  “Cone. Head.” Cornrows said, pulling a strand of Beehive’s hair from her perfectly coifed updo.

  A poof of neon pink fabric eclipsed my vision, swallowing up Cornrows with a shriek. All I could see was bright green and pink tulle competing for dominance amid shrieks too high-pitched for me to make out.

  It wasn’t until a stray box of neon yellow hair curlers smacked into Louie’s head that he jerked to attention and roared, “Pixies!”

  They froze, Cornrows holding a fistful of Beehive’s partially undone hair in mid-shake and Beehive with a bright pink stiletto poised to come down on Cornrow’s arm.

  “If you cannot manage to do this quickly, the first thing I do once my glamour disappears is hunt you both down and eat you.”

  Both promptly abandoned their fight, straightening up faster than my eyes could follow.

  Beehive—well, half-beehive—cleared her throat. “Perhaps leaving her hair curly would best suit her after all.”

  Cornrows nodded
tightly. “Indeed.”

  Beehive sniffed. “Tiara.”

  “Of course.”

  They exchanged another nod before re-attacking my hair with a vengeance.

  Louie narrowly eyed the pixies as he sunk back into the couch, unfurling his paper as he crossed his right leg over his left.

  Deena looked a bit unsettled. “Eat them? Exactly what kind of fae are you?”

  Louie gave her the first genuine smile I’d ever seen on his face. “A griffin.”

  His smile widened into a grin as Deena’s mouth dropped.

  I clenched my jaw as they jerked my hair this way and that. They paused long enough to whip out a display of tiaras that ranged from simple wrought-silver to intricate masterpieces that easily topped a foot in height.

  When Cornrows reached for the latter, I vehemently shook my head. “Uh-uh,” was all I said.

  Cornrows glowered at me. She stepped down the line of tiaras until she arrived at one that looked to be half as tall as the first. I shook my head again.

  Her mouth compressed until her red lipstick all but disappeared from sight—an accomplishment, considering how full her lips were.

  Cornrows stomped down to a tiara with a delicate silver filigree placed three to the end. She held it up with a single finger and glared, daring me to say no.

  I pressed my lips firmly together to keep from smiling. “Um, yeah. That one looks good.”

  She sniffed disdainfully. “The first would have looked stunning,” she said, walking past me to drop the tiara into Beehive’s hands. Beehive patted her shoulder.

  “There, there. Elves simply have no fashion sense.”

  “I guess.” Cornrows glared at me hard enough that I had to look away.

  It wasn’t a second later that they were back to yanking my hair around with more force than I suspected necessary.

  Beehive stabbed the tiara into my scalp, making me wince. “Ow!” I yelped, bringing a hand to my head. Cornrows slapped it away. “Don’t touch,” she commanded.

  The pixies stepped back in unison, scrutinizing me from a distance.

  “Do you think it’s…enough?” Beehive tapped her pink frames again.

  “Hmm…” Cornrows stepped back a bit further, narrowing her eyes. “It is quite simple, but…”