Gerall's Festivus Bride

by Rebekah R. Ganiere

  “Let me dress and gather some supplies, and I’ll be there promptly,” said Cinder.

  Flint turned to Eloa and nodded. “Let’s get you back to Gerall. I’m sure he’s going crazy with worry.”

  Eloa nodded, and they headed to the door. So many questions swirled in her mind she could hardly focus. It didn’t matter though; her biggest question wasn’t for Flint. It was for Queen Cinder.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gerall’s body felt like fire burned him from the inside out. He fought to keep awake as once again, and his ribcage squeezed like he’d been set upon by his horse. Zelle continued to dab his head and hum soothingly, but he could see the troubled expression she fought to hide. He was dying, and he knew it.

  “Why don’t you go check on your babies,” he croaked.

  She gave him a tight smile and shook her head. “They are just fine with Scarlet. I’d rather be here.”

  Gerall took her cool hand in his now burning one. “I know you wouldn’t, but I appreciate your words nonetheless.”

  Her chin quivered, and her eyes filled with tears. “I feel so helpless.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I want to thank you.”

  She swiped at her tears. “For what?”

  “For marrying my brother.”

  Zelle laughed and then sucked in a breath.

  “I mean it. He was lost before you. In pain that none of us could help with. I feared he would be alone forever, but you and the twins have brought life back into our family. You’ve given us the hope for our futures.”

  “You give me too much credit.”

  Gerall smiled at her. “You’ll never know what you’ve done. We are all in your debt.”

  The door opened, and Eloa and Flint entered. Zelle stood and walked to Flint. He took her in his arms and hugged her tight. Eloa sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes filled with anguish.

  “He didn’t tell you anything, did he?”

  “Oh, he talked,” said Flint. “But he doesn’t know the poison. He said the magistrate gave him the knife. Erik, Hass, and Ian should be back within the hour; then we’ll head down to Westfall.”

  Gerall nodded. He wanted to know what Eloa had done to make Charlie talk, but the dark expression on her face told him he shouldn’t ask.

  “Queen Cinder is coming,” said Eloa. “She should be here soon.”

  “Can she heal me?”

  Eloa looked to Flint and then shook her head. “She said it has been too long since you were stabbed.”

  The blows just kept coming, and for the first time, Gerall realized he might not make it through the fight. It hadn’t been since the battle with Remus and the other vampires that he’d thought of the possibility.

  “Can you give us some time alone?” he asked Flint.

  Flint nodded, and he and Zelle walked out. He pulled on Eloa’s hand, and she lay down beside him, her skin cooling his scorching flesh. She laid her head on his chest, and he kissed her hair.

  “Tell me about your life,” he said.

  “There isn’t much to tell. I was born in the bakery and lived my whole life there until yesterday.”

  “So, you’ve never been to Ville DeFee?”

  She shook her head. “My father said his family is all dead. There’s nothing to go back to.”

  “Well, now you can. I’m sure Cinder will be more than happy to take you back with her after...” He couldn’t finish his sentence. After he died, she should go back and be with the fae. Yes, his brothers would keep helping her if Gerall’s wished it, but he didn’t want her life to be shadowed by her few weeks with him.

  “Don’t say that,” she said. “We are going to find a way to fix you.”

  “Eloa—”

  “Don’t!” She sat up suddenly. A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t say it,” she whispered.

  He brushed the tear from her face and pulled her back to him. They lay in silence for several minutes.

  “Besides,” she finally said. “I can’t leave my bakery.”

  He chuckled. “It’s just a bakery.”

  “It’s my home and—”

  “And?”

  Her body tensed. “And... My father is there.”

  Questions rolled around in Gerall’s mind. “Your father? He’s... not dead?”

  She shook her head.

  It made sense. Her not wanting him to go in the hut. Always heading back to her bakery to check on things. The fear of anyone going in.

  “He’s hiding,” said Gerall.

  “Last year, men broke into the bakery and beat my father almost to death. They left him for dead and set fire to the bakery. When I found him, he barely lived. I did my best to heal him, but my magick isn’t strong enough, so he’s terribly burned and scarred. I’m afraid if he’s found out, they will come back and finish him off to keep him quiet.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Because he wouldn’t pay protection money. He refused, no matter how much they pressured him.”

  “Like you.”

  She nodded.

  Anger coursed through Gerall. He wanted to rip Charlie, the others and the magistrate to ribbons for the pain they’d caused.

  “We should bring your father here,” said Gerall. “We’ll tell my brothers when they go to town to get him and bring him back. It’s possible Cinder could help him as well.”

  “Do you really think Queen Cinder might help?” asked Eloa.

  “Think I might help with what?” Cinder stood in the doorway with Erik, Hass, and Ian. The brothers pushed past her and swarmed the bed.

  “How did this happen?” asked Erik.

  “Who did it?” said Hass.

  “We’ll kill them,” finished Ian.

  “We think it was Jopin,” said Gerall.

  “The magistrate stabbed you?” Erik’s eyebrows knit together.

  “No. He gave the poisoned blade to a man named Charlie.”

  “To stab you?”

  “No...” Gerall tried to breathe deeply, but couldn’t.

  He began coughing again, and Cinder rushed over. Pushing his brothers aside, she opened her bag. She removed a vial and held it to Gerall’s lips. He drank down the cooling liquid and then laid back. His coughing eased, and he breathed deeper than he had in hours.

  The group waited for him to speak again. His eyes went to Eloa, whose face burned with shame and sadness.

  “Thank you,” he said to Cinder.

  She nodded and laid her hands on his chest. White light grew from her palms, cooling his fevered skin. He let out an audible sigh, and his vision cleared a bit.

  “Are you healing him?” asked Erik.

  “No,” replied Cinder. “I am pulling down the fever temporarily and clearing his lungs. Nothing will be a permanent fix at this point. Even pulling down his fever isn’t the best thing to do. The fever is his body fighting the poison. But this will bring him some comfort for a while at least until we can figure out what to do.”

  “So, there’s nothing you can do?” asked Erik.

  “Tell me the poison. If you can do that, I may be able to help.”

  “How much time does he have?” asked Hass.

  Cinder looked between the group. “It’s hard to say but... less than twelve hours.”

  Eloa’s eyes welled with tears again.

  “Then we need to go,” said Erik. “Hass, Ian, you and Jamen will go with me. Flint will stay here with the women and babies.”

  “I need you to do me a favor,” said Gerall. “Go to Eloa’s bakery and bring her father back with you.”

  “Her father?”

  “It’s a long story,” said Gerall. “But we need him here and safe.”

  Erik nodded. “Of course. We can send Adrian.”

  “He’s gone,” said Jamen. “Charlie said Fendrick is in a storm cellar near a garden.”

  “That could be anywhere,” said Erik.

  “That’s what we said, but he wouldn’t be stopped.”

 
; The brothers headed out, and Cinder looked at Eloa, studying her for a moment.

  “Half fae?”

  Eloa squeezed Gerall’s hand tight and then nodded.

  Cinder smiled. “I’m Cinder.”

  “Eloa.”

  “Pleasure.” She looked down to where Eloa held Gerall’s hand. “I’m going to give you something to help you sleep.”

  “I don’t want—”

  Cinder help up her hand. “Sleeping now could buy you time later.”

  Gerall refused to argue. Cinder pulled another vial from her bag, and Gerall drank it. The instantaneous effect made his muscles relax, and his mind fuzz over.

  “I’m going to go downstairs and speak to Erik before he leaves,” she said. “I’ll come check on you in a bit.”

  Gerall nodded, barely able to keep his eyes open. Light footsteps headed for the door.

  “Lie with me?” he asked.

  Eloa stood and pulled down the covers before crawling under the blankets and wrapping her arms around him.

  His mind drifted toward sleep, but before he did, he muttered. “I love you.”

  Eloa laid with her arms wrapped fiercely around Gerall. He loved her. He really loved her. For over an hour, she whispered that she loved him. That she needed him. She told him how she’d loved him since she’d first seen him years before. How she admired him and his kindness. How in the short time they’d been together, he had changed her life forever. She did not know if he could hear a word she said, but it didn’t matter. She couldn’t afford to be afraid any longer. Who knew how much time they had left. His snores deepened, making it impossible for her to sleep, so she slipped out of bed and crept to the door. Turning back, she stared at his face, again pale with deep circles under his eyes. Her chest squeezed. She hated to leave his side, but she hadn’t eaten in almost twenty-four hours, and she needed to stay strong for him. Eloa slipped out the door and down the hallway. Voices floated up to meet her, and she headed for the solar. Inside, Cinder and Flint spoke in hushed voices.

  “...so, I wondered if you were able to do those things,” he said.

  “Tell me exactly what happened,” Cinder replied.

  “She put her hands on either side of his head and just... I don’t know... Blasted him with her magick like lightning bolts to his skull or something. His screams were almost inhuman. Whatever she did, it was painful enough that he confessed everything. Even with Jamen and I working on him for hours, he hadn’t cracked.”

  “Was there anything else? A smell or colors or sounds?”

  “When she turned toward me, her eyes were black.”

  “I see.”

  Eloa’s heart pounded. Had her eyes been black? Her vision had gone dark, but she’d had no idea that they’d gone black. Her hands began to shake. That couldn’t be good.

  “What?” asked Flint. “You know something.”

  “I’m afraid... I’m afraid Eloa is dark fae.”

  “Dark fae? I’ve never heard anything about any dark fae.”

  “That’s because as far as we knew, there weren’t any left. Back when the daemons invaded Fairelle. The fae and the mages mixed their magicks to defeat them, push them back, and create the portal. That combination of magicks created the wastelands. After, some of those fae became obsessed with the immense power they’d gained combining their magick with the mages. So, they followed the mages back to the towers and studied with them to learn more. It twisted them and turned their hearts dark. Soon they were too powerful for even the mages to control. They asked our ancestors to step in and help them kill the dark fae before they became just like the daemons. We believed they’d all been killed off a thousand years ago. We must have been misinformed.”

  “So Eloa’s father...”

  “Is a dark fae. I need to find him, to talk to him and see if there are more like him. If there are, this could be bad for everyone.”

  Eloa’s heart beat so hard she feared everyone in the house could hear it. She covered her mouth with her hand to keep from screaming. Trying to keep her breathing even, she pressed her back into the stone wall to keep from falling.

  “What about Eloa? Is she dangerous?”

  “Everyone is dangerous, Flint. You know that better than most. But do I think she is a danger to you and your family? From what I saw, no. She seems genuinely sweet and kind. I doubt she even knows what she is. But if you are truly concerned, you could have Zelle read Eloa’s aura.”

  “Perhaps. I’ll need to talk to my brothers.”

  “I could take her with me back to Ville DeFee, if...” Cinder’s words trailed off, but Eloa didn’t need her to finish the sentence to know what she meant.

  “No,” said Flint. “She is Gerall’s choice. She is a Gwyn now. We’ll protect her like all the others. Hell, my wife is a daemon. My children are half daemons. My sister and her husband are vampires. A half dark fae is nothing compared to that.” He snorted. “To be honest, if she were normal, I’d be more worried than I am about her being half dark fae.”

  Cinder chuckled. “I see your point. I’m here for all of you if you need me. Especially her.”

  “Well,” said Flint. “I think she’ll appreciate that. Won’t you, Eloa?”

  Eloa’s head whipped up. How had he known she stood there? Embarrassed, she looked around to find a place she could hide, but there wasn’t anything nearby.

  Swallowing her fear, she stepped into the doorway. “I didn’t mean to pry. I just came down to find something to eat.”

  Flint stared at her through his sightless eyes. Cinder’s expression softened.

  “Come in, child.” Cinder held her hand out for Eloa.

  Eloa walked forward, wondering how old Cinder was to be calling her child. Her beautiful light curls hung perfectly down her back, and her bright blue eyes watched Eloa with great interest.

  Flint rose and offered Eloa his chair. He stepped to the side, and she sat across from Cinder.

  “I’m sorry you had to find out like that,” Cinder said.

  “I wish my father had told me.”

  “So, he never mentioned he was dark fae?”

  Eloa shook her head. “He just said he left Ville DeFee after his mother and brothers died, and he traveled for a while before coming upon Westfall. He met my mother and stayed.”

  “Do you know your father’s surname?”

  “Vitalya. When he married my mother, he took her human last name to cover his fae heritage. So, I am Eloa Lenter.”

  Cinder nodded. “But you know nothing else of him. Why he is dark, where he came from, how he got that way?”

  She shook her head. “He said his mother and brothers lived in Ville DeFee, but they’re dead now.”

  “I would much like to speak to your father.”

  “Erik, Jamen and the twins went to fetch him while they are in Westfall,” said Flint.

  “Good,” said Cinder.

  “I know he is... what you say he is, but I can promise you, your highness, that he’s never been anything, but gentle and kind to everyone.” Eloa couldn’t forgive her father for lying to her about what they were, but he was a good man, no matter what kind of magick he had.

  “I believe you. To raise a daughter such as you, he’d have to be. But did he ever hint at anything about the dark fae or dark magick? Did he ever teach you anything?”

  “Once I harmed a girl in town. He told me never ever to use my magick like that again. That it was wrong. He taught me how to use it to make my baked goods taste better, and I can do light healing, but not much else, I’m afraid.” Eloa looked at her hands, dreading the question that had been bubbling inside her. “Are you... going to kill my father?”

  Eloa raised her gaze, and Cinder sat quietly for a long moment. “If he is what you say he is, then I see no reason to bring him before the tribunal. But it is imperative that I speak to him. We must know if there are more and if so, where they are.”

  Eloa nodded.

  “And you must be careful, Eloa. That kin
d of magick is enticing and seductive. You must never use it again, or you risk it consuming your light forever.”

  “I understand.”

  “Why don’t you eat,” said Flint. “There is plenty of food in the kitchen. Then get some rest. I’ll let you and Gerall know when Erik returns.”

  Eloa nodded and headed into the kitchen. She stared at one of her loaves of bread. She was a dark fae. Her magick was partly evil. She remembered the feel of hurting Charlie. The power, the way she liked it. Her stomach roiled like she’d eaten rotten meat. She had to talk to her father. She needed to know who they were and why he hadn’t ever told her the truth. But above all... she had to tell Gerall. He’d asked her to marry him, but he hadn’t known what she was when he’d asked. Her sour stomach intensified at the idea that he may no longer want her.

  She blew out a breath and left the kitchen no longer hungry. She walked back up the stairs and slid into Gerall’s room. Crawling under the blanket with him, she hugged his feverish body. The information could wait until he healed. Telling him now would only add to his torment.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Voices floated up the stairs awaking Eloa. She looked at the clock to find it close to ten p.m. Lights swam through the crack in the open bedroom door, and it sounded as if everyone had returned.

  She looked at Gerall, whose body blazed hotter than ever. His breathing had become so shallow she knew there wasn’t much time left for him. She laid her head on his chest, and his heartbeat thundered beneath his ribs. Her chest squeezed. She couldn’t lose him. Not now.

  She shook his shoulder. “Gerall? Can you hear me?”

  He moaned, and his eyes fluttered open but closed again.

  “Wake up, darling, please. Tell me what to do. How do I fix you? Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you.”

  His eyes opened slowly, and he sucked in a ragged breath and whispered something she couldn’t hear.

  “What?” She leaned in close, pressing her ear to his lips.

  “Snow.”

  “Snow? You want your sister?”

  “Snow... help... me...”

  How could his sister help him? She didn’t have time to think about it. Instead, she dashed to the door and down the stairs where the entire household had gathered in the front hallway.