by Tasha Black
The man clutched her close and they danced into the darkness to some unheard song. As they danced off, Tabitha realized she could hear the song after all. And to her surprise, it was one she knew well.
It was full of life and happiness, the perfect foil to the darkness of the banshee. She knew exactly what she needed to do now, and exactly what she needed to play.
Tabitha took a deep breath and opened her eyes.
Tristan stood over her, Light emanating from all his pores.
He looked like a god.
That was the sunlight she had felt when she needed it most. His power had perfectly complimented her own.
She looked down at her hands and saw that the violin was whole and perfect, just as the ghost had given it to her.
Over Tristan’s shoulder, the banshee had turned back to Mr. White.
Tabitha moved past him to face the monster.
It was time to end this, one way or the other.
22
Tristan
Tristan watched as Tabitha turned her attention to the creature before them.
Her bravery astonished and overwhelmed him.
She knew her efforts were futile.
She knew how the story would end.
Whether she defeated this monster today and lived on, or fell to madness or death right here in this hallway, she would not live to see the next great comet. She would not see the continents shift again, or the arrangement of the stars swirl and reorder itself as he would.
But he was beginning to understand that the meaning in her life was only made more sweet by this knowledge.
How she raged against their enemies, and fought to protect the ones she cared about, not caring that her fragile form was vulnerable to the very thing she sought.
These were not the actions of a silly mortal girl.
They were the actions of a queen.
I have been blind.
But it was too late now to tell her he believed in her, that she was better than good enough to be his queen.
There was no time left for any of that.
Tabitha had to believe in herself.
And he could see now that she did. It was in the royal bearing of her shoulders as she stormed the banshee.
It was in the way her chest puffed out proudly as she tucked her instrument beneath her chin and drew the bow across the strings.
The first note of the bone fiddle rang out and the banshee froze in place.
Tabitha played on, determinedly.
The melody was a simple one, but pretty. It made Tristan think of daffodils in the late spring sunlight, dancing in the breeze.
The banshee seemed to remember herself and she drew back from his queen like a bait fish from a hungry shark.
Tabitha took two big steps forward, continuing her song.
Just ahead of them, Mr. White sang his own tune, and pushed the machine farther down the hallway.
The banshee shivered and flapped her arms, sending waves of sadness out of her cloak to wash over them.
Tristan felt his Light surge to counteract it and protect his queen. He had not even called to it.
Tabitha moved forward again as the tune from the violin built to a crescendo of power.
The banshee held her scrawny arms to her head as if trying to block out the sound.
Tabitha moved closer still.
Sara was singing a song with words now, rhyming couplets describing the banshee’s decision to go back to her own realm.
Tabitha’s playing had disrupted the need for Sara’s counter song.
Hope rose in Tristan’s heart and he felt the full powers of his Light coming back to him, stronger than ever.
Tabitha reached the climax of her song at the same time Sara did.
The light bulbs above them popped and burst in a shower of glass as Dorian pulled midnight close around them.
The banshee sighed and lowered her face in defeat.
Tristan watched as she dissolved like smoke and was sucked back into the mirror shard.
There was a moment of heavy silence.
“We did it,” Tabitha breathed.
“What in the world is going on?” the cleaning man’s voice boomed from down the hall. He had turned around at last, his attention presumably gained when the light went out.
“Are you all okay?” the man asked as he hurried back to them.
“Oh, hello Mr. White,” Tabitha said brightly. “The light bulb exploded. It was weird, but we’re all okay.”
“We’ll help you clean it up,” Sara added.
“Oh, hello girls,” Mr. White said to them cheerfully as he approached. “I remember you two. Still thick as thieves, eh? A talent show, a reunion with past students and a burst light bulb - this is turning out to be a very exciting evening.”
Tabitha couldn’t help but laugh.
23
Tristan
Tristan sat in the seat behind Tabitha on the way home.
The women were chatting and laughing. Apparently, the song Tabitha had played to capture the banshee was a famous children’s song.
“It’s the only one I remember,” Tabitha protested. “I haven’t played since I was in school.”
“You just captured a fairytale monster by playing the most kickass rendition of You are My Sunshine the world has ever heard,” Sara laughed. “And I’m never going to let you live it down.”
“Okay, fine, but who can you even tell?” Tabitha teased.
“I’ll tell Dorian,” Sara decided. “Hey, Dorian—”
“—I know,” Dorian played along. “It’s very funny.”
“See?” Sara laughed.
Tristan enjoyed the warmth of their little circle, even as he felt separate from it.
You are the bearer of Light, not the recipient, he reminded himself.
But the knowledge had never stung like this.
“You still with us, Tristan?” Tabitha asked, her eyes twinkling in the little mirror that hung from the front window.
“I am here, Tabitha,” he told her.
“Good,” she said. “I can’t have you getting lost on me. We still have monsters to catch.”
He felt hope bloom in his chest.
Did this mean she would give him another chance, despite his mistakes?
“I’m dropping you guys here, right?” Tabitha asked Sara.
They had pulled up at Le Sucre, where Sara had left her car earlier.
“Yes, thanks,” Sara said.
Tristan winced, but Tabitha merely smiled.
Somehow the laying down of a burden of thanks was nothing between these women. Perhaps their friendship was even stronger than his brotherhood.
“Meet back here in the morning for brunch?” Sara asked, a hopeful gleam in her eye.
“Sure,” Tabitha told her.
Dorian thumped Tristan’s leg with a big hand. “Enjoy your night, brother.”
He was gone before Tristan could react.
“Want to come sit up here?” Tabitha asked.
He hopped out and joined her in the front seat.
“That was crazy tonight, right?” Tabitha asked.
“Right,” he agreed.
“I mean, I can’t believe we really pulled it off,” she said, as she steered the car back onto the street and toward her dwelling.
“It was you who pulled it off,” he told her quietly.
“No way,” she said. “Not on my own. The four of us are an amazing team.”
He thought back to the moment in the hallway, all drawing hard on their magic to do what was needed.
“I felt the sunlight on my face,” she said quietly. “When the ghost was inside me and I thought I was going to lose everything, I felt your Light on me, calling me home.”
He closed his eyes against the surge of love he felt in his chest, so strong it was almost like pain.
“Are you okay?” she asked him again.
“Tabitha, I am filled with regret,” he told her. “A fae king does not normall
y feel regret, but I do now.”
“Why?” she asked, sounding guarded.
She was pulling the car into the lot beside the museum.
They were home.
“Are you sorry that your mark is on me?” she asked quietly, looking down at the wheel as she turned off the engine.
He could feel the absence of light in her, it tugged at him.
“No, Tabitha, no, of course not,” he told her, taking her hand from the wheel and holding it in his. “I’m so proud that we wear each other’s marks. My regret is that I have not told you how proud I am.”
She turned to him, but her expression was confused.
His heart ached again that he had hurt his warrior queen so badly that she would not accept his love.
“You wouldn’t touch me last night,” she said. “We shared a bed and you never even looked at me.”
“Tabitha, I… I was afraid,” he admitted to her. “And also confused, since I’ve never really been afraid of anything before.”
“Afraid of what?”
“You are mortal,” he explained. “One day, you will not be at my side. One day, you will simply not be. I was afraid of losing you.”
He felt a little of the weight lift from his heart just by saying the words out loud.
“That’s true,” she said. “It’s the birthright of every human - to know the value of every moment.”
“If you will let me try again to be your king, I promise not to waste another moment on selfish fears,” he promised her.
She studied him in the moonlight.
As much as he abhorred the anticipation, he had to respect that she was taking her time to make a deliberate choice.
His queen was not a blade of grass to be blown in the wind. Her roots ran deep.
“I think I can afford to give you one more chance,” she said at last, with a wicked smile. “But you’re going to have to make this up to me.”
“I can’t wait,” he growled, reaching for her.
“Not in the car,” she replied. “I’m a queen. You’re going to have to respect my dignity.”
He felt the thunderous laughter rumble up from his belly.
“Laugh all you want, but you’ll be laughing alone,” she teased. But he could tell by her dimples that she was holding in her own mirth.
He leapt from the carriage and ran around to open her door.
She allowed herself to be helped from her seat, but she seemed decidedly surprised when he lifted her into his arms.
But he was determined to claim his queen properly tonight. She had asked for dignity, and he would let her hold onto it until she couldn’t anymore.
“My keys are in my bag,” she whispered.
He placed his hand on the knob and bade it open.
The lock clicked, and the door opened without him touching it.
“Oh, right,” she murmured.
“Oh, right,” he echoed. “Remember who you have taken as your king. No part of you will ever be barred to me. I will inhabit you and know you to the last fiber of your being.”
“That’s fine,” she said lightly. “But could you try to know me a little faster?”
Her hot breath in his ear made him anxious to get her upstairs. He carried her through the house swiftly, cradling her head and ducking his own as he brought them up the twisty steps and down the hall to his room.
The stars danced in the windows around them as he set her down beside the bed.
He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. She went up on her toes and kissed the corner of his mouth.
“Let’s get out of these,” he whispered to her.
She smiled and allowed him to undress her, slowly.
He had paid attention last time and he understood the fastenings well enough to release them without resorting to magic.
But he took his time. At last she stood before him, beautifully naked in the soft moonlight.
“Get in bed,” he told her through gritted teeth.
She climbed in slowly and lay back, looking up at him, her dark hair splayed on the pillow.
He prayed for the strength to take her slowly, as such a union deserved.
Calling on reserves of restraint he didn’t know he had, he peeled off his own clothing, loving the look in her eyes as she beheld her king.
He crawled into bed, covering her body with his.
She shivered against him, pressing herself closer.
“I love you, Tabitha Barnes,” he told her softly. “We will rule this realm of yours with my Light and your Bravery.”
“Tristan,” she said, her eyes so serious. “We aren’t going to rule over this…realm. At least, not in the way that you think. There’s really no framework for it.”
“We’ll think of something,” he assured her. “Our subjects need us, even if they don’t know it yet.”
“Things have certainly brightened up since you got here,” she agreed. “And I love you too, Tristan. I always will.”
He pressed his lips to hers, amazed again to feel himself shot through with the Light he so often imparted to others.
Tabitha kissed him back passionately, twining her arms around his neck and clinging to him as if she would never let go.
He slid one hand down her side, tracing her warm curves like caressing a soft cloud.
She sighed in contentment, as if she were soaking in his touch as much as he enjoyed touching her.
He nibbled her lower lip and she giggled in surprise.
“I’m going to claim you, my queen,” he whispered in the shell of her ear. “But first I need to taste you.”
She shivered again and he knew she wasn’t cold.
He nuzzled her neck and kissed his way down her clavicle and between her breasts.
He moved as slowly as he could, determined to savor every second.
24
Tabitha
Tabitha willed herself to be still, to enjoy the moment.
Her whole body was awash in lust and a frantic need to feel him inside her.
But he was slowly caressing her breasts with his big hands, sending shockwaves of need through her.
He lowered his face to lick one of her stiff nipples into his mouth.
A soft moan escaped her lips.
He smiled against her breast and flicked her nipple with his clever tongue.
She wiggled under him deliberately, hoping to make him feel some fraction of the urgency she felt.
He groaned and ravaged her breasts, sucking the nipples into his mouth one and then the other until she squealed again.
The cool air of the room swirled on her chest as he pressed his lips to her belly and then moved further down.
Tabitha forced herself to take slow, even breaths.
He had done this before, she knew what was coming.
But he was pressing his lips to her inner thighs, melting her from the inside out before he had even touched her.
She whimpered and felt her hips lift slightly in spite of her attempt at controlling her hunger.
“So eager,” he smiled lazily against the tender flesh of her thigh. “What do you want, my queen?”
“Please,” she moaned.
“Please what?”
She could kill him for teasing her, for making her beg. But something about it was so delicious…
“Please touch me,” she pleaded.
He made a growling sound of satisfaction and then he was lapping her sex, sending shocks of pleasure through her with every touch.
Tabitha could feel the ecstasy building in her, a train rumbling down the tracks, a physics problem made real. How long until the crash?
Tristan answered the question by giving her a final, toe-curlingly slow lick and then crawling up her ravenous body to kiss her forehead again.
She felt the length of him, hot and hard, pulsing against her hip.
“Tabitha, I need you,” he groaned.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, please.”
She closed her eyes
as he took himself in his hand and placed himself firmly against her opening.
“Look at me,” he whispered through gritted teeth.
His dark eyes were triumphant as he pressed slowly inside her.
“Tristan,” she whispered.
“My queen,” he groaned when he was fully seated.
For a long time he held them both still, pinning her to the bed so she could only feel him possessing her.
At last he pulled her left hand from around his neck and pressed it to the bed.
“Look,” he whispered to her as he began to move.
At first, sensation exploded like fireworks, and she could do nothing but absorb the pleasure as it rose inside her.
“Our hands,” he groaned.
She glanced beside herself and saw the inky vines twining further up her hand and wrapping around her wrist, as his did the same on his hand.
He was hers now and she was his.
Whatever sort of kingdom they ruled over, even if it was only in this house, they would do it together.
The idea sent her sailing over the edge.
“Tristan,” she cried as she felt herself fly.
He roared out his own pleasure and she felt him swell inside her, pulsing out his climax in tandem with her own.
The room filled with ethereal light for a moment, from the dome of the ceiling to the floorboards.
Tabitha felt herself floating high as the sun.
She closed her eyes as the pleasure faded.
When she opened them again, the room was just as before, stars twinkling in the windows.
Tristan rolled them over so that he was on his back, her cheek resting against his chest.
“Tristan,” she whispered, overwhelmed and happy.
“Rest now, my love,” he whispered back. “We’ll make all our plans in the morning. Just let me hold you while you sleep.”
She moved as if to protest and he lifted his hand.
Light danced in his palm, shivering and arcing, forming tiny animals and melting back into sunlight.
She watched, half hypnotized, until sleep overcame her.
25
Tabitha
