Ferrous (Fae's Folly Book 1)

by Valerie Mars

  My thoughts spiral before I realize, and all the events and emotions of the night bring me to my knees before the foot of the bed. Kai’s figure blurs in my vision until I allow the tears to fall. It’s very melodramatic and Cinderella-like, but I rest my arms and face on the bed and let my body do what it needs to do.

  I feel like I’ve cried more tonight than I have my entire life put together. I’m usually very private about it, which amplifies my current self-disgust. My grandfather’s funeral? Dryer than the Sahara. My last break up? Not even Ben and Jerry were invited to that party. Some guy grabs my necklace uninvited in the middle of a field? Tell Noah to build the ark! But I know it’s not that simple, and this whole situation is fifty shades of fucked.

  Kai’s sedation is a blessing, because there’s no way my silent sobs aren’t sending tremors up the bed. Footsteps approach from the hall, stopping in the doorway. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Ryland grits out. He stomps back down the hall. “I’m getting a drink.” The front door doesn’t exactly slam behind him, but it definitely receives some of his irritation.

  Warm hands fall on my shoulders. “Atta girl, he can piss right off. It’s been a night, hasn’t it?” I lift my face from the bed and swallow a big load of snot. Standing, I swivel to face him.

  Bash’s expression reads 100% pity, but that’s okay. “Come here, love,” he says, pulling me in for a hug. I don’t fight it, because lord knows it’s needed. I weep a few more minutes while he patiently waits. When I finally stop, I take a deep breath of smoky sandalwood. It’s quickly becoming a source of comfort in this ordeal.

  “Let’s get you to bed, okay?” he says, shuffling me toward the second bedroom. “I’ll make sure big bad Everhart doesn’t sell you to the evil queen in your sleep.”

  I sniffle. “There’s an evil queen?”

  He pulls back the covers on a bed. “No, lovey. This isn’t a fairytale,” he half chuckles.

  “But you’re fae,” I protest while removing my boots.

  “You have me there,” he admits. “We, uh, we have a council, actually.”

  I raise an eyebrow. That’s so…normal. “And no one’s evil?”

  “We could debate at length over Ryland’s father, but no.”

  I climb into bed. “That’s too bad. I was imagining him more of the evil prince sort, to be honest.”

  He leans back to expel a booming laugh, and it almost feels like we’re back at the bar again. “He’s certainly a royal pain in my arse,” he quips. I giggle and lay on my side.

  Bash settles onto the floor beside the bed, and we fall into silence. He’s kind of doofy and loud, but tonight Sebastian Ankerstrand’s really been my—well, he’s been my anchor.

  “You know,” I start. “I’d say you’ve been a lifesaver today if you weren’t also the guy who threw a frickin portal in front of me.”

  He heaves a sigh.

  “Thank you,” I finish. “For everything.”

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  I turn over and snuggle into the pillow. It isn’t long before I start to drift. Bash triggering a creaky floorboard on his way out pulls me from slumber.

  “Bash?”

  “Mallory.”

  “How old is Lady Willow?”

  “Hmm,” he ponders. “I think she might have hit her tricentennial a few cycles back.”

  I’m getting used to the sucker punch to the gut this revelation brings. 300-year-old mistresses is the new normal. “That’s nice,” I reply, gathering the blankets around myself into another burrito. There’s still a chance to wake up and find this was a dream. “Goodnight, Sebastian Ankerstrand.”

  “Sleep well, Mallory Meadowbrook.”

  7

  Mallory

  It smells like rain. Birds are chirping outside, so it must have started and ended sometime last night. I stretch my calves cautiously, fearing a cramp after last night’s trek. They seem not so cranky, so I plunge deeper. My neck is killing me, possibly from clenching my jaw all night. Thinking you’re going to die will do that.

  I step out of bed and move into a forward-fold, thankful Kai isn’t in here to witness my amateur moves. Rice Krispies knees aside, it feels great on my hamstrings. I allow my blood a few moments to circulate before coming back up, holding my hands below my knees.

  I guess I’m still here.

  Something about the rain sticks out like a sore thumb. The scent is unlike the rain I’m used to, but familiar all the same. My next breath takes me to my childhood as I place the scent. I’ve smelled it in my mother’s thermos after a long shift, and on my shirt when trying to sneak a sip of the dregs. I’ve also smelled it on rainy fall weekends, when she’d brew a big batch and we’d sip it throughout football or board games. There’s no mistaking the zingy, flowery fragrance of cardamom. Introduced to her by a med school roommate, my mom’s been drinking it ever since. Some families have hot cocoa; we have cardamom milk tea.

  The fragrance makes me realize I haven’t had any good chai since leaving home. I miss it. I don’t know why this temperate fall climate smells like cardamom, but I’m not about to complain. Keep me smelling this long enough and I might just stay forever. It’s that good.

  Knuckles softly rap at the door. “Mallory. Are you awake?” I straighten from the halfway fold. That’s Kai’s voice, which means he’s okay. And mobile! I’m suddenly panicking for a mirror, but of course there isn’t one in sight. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen a bathroom yet, either.

  I whip open the door, the needs of my bladder overshadowing my concern for Kai. “Please tell me this portal world has better plumbing than porta-potties.” Those glacial blues pop wide open in response. He steps to the side, ushering me down the hall.

  He waves with his good hand. “On your left before the front room.” Bash laughs from said room. I shuffle over, and there’s the door like it materialized overnight. I’ll forgive myself for missing it as long as I don’t miss the toilet. An ache is awakening in my bladder as I scramble to remove my pants. Thank God it’s not some magic toilet that only opens for fae booty or something. I plop down onto the toilet and take stock of the room. It’s…different.

  Like everything else in this town, they’ve showcased the surrounding forest. Instead of tiles, a clear platform floats over perfectly preserved autumn leaves to mimic a forest floor. Dozens of white birch branches intertwine to form the pedestal of a sink carved from a slab of matching birch, complete with living edges. Made from the same wood is a soaking tub hollowed out from a trunk far larger than I’ve ever known a birch to grow. A millennial girl could get used to this.

  Sunlight filters through an entire wall of stained glass set behind the tub. It’s disrupting the forest vibes and reminds me of a Victorian bathroom, but it’s understandable why someone would preserve this feature. I finish my business and move to admire the window.

  The thing about stained glass is it’s usually associated with churches or mosques. You know, holy places of worship. And while worship is wholly evident in this piece, it’s of a variety that most religious sanctuaries would designate unholy. Shining beyond the beautiful soaking tub before me is an expertly crafted scene of a woman in the throes of passion. With multiple men. Her mouth is wide open, and I’d like to think she’s praising her gods. Hopefully they’re the type to smile upon pornographic window orgies.

  I bust out cackling. It was all Clara could do to drag me to meet guys last night, and now I’m in a brothel hotel—I’m totally calling it a brotel—with three guys and a decorative orgy to gaze upon as I brush my teeth?

  Bash hollers to Kai from the next room. “I think she found it, mate!”

  “I feel like the extra veiny one found me!” I yell, flinging open the door. Kai’s good hand is pawing through his hair like a parent about to have the birds and bees talk with their firstborn.

  “I’m still somewhat groggy,” he says while wincing. “I apologize for neglecting to warn you.”

  I can’t stand to see him torn up
about glass dicks when I haven’t apologized for maiming him yet. “Nah, you’re fine. Bash told me about the building’s history last night. How’s the hand?”

  “Much improved. This town has a gifted healer.” He turns his palm outward and my breath hitches. His hand’s done like five days’ worth of healing overnight. His fingertips are pink and new, and the outline of the ring is less angry. “I’ll ride one-handed tomorrow, but it’s looking better than I expected.”

  I gaze at his hand, getting lost in my feelings until he pulls his palm from sight. “Mallory, it was my decision—and I think city living might have weakened me more than just physically,” he says, jabbing a finger to his temple.

  I swallow. “I know, but I’m still sorry for causing you pain.” He shakes his head. “It worked, if it helps any,” I add.

  “It might.”

  “Now that you two have had your collective hand wringing,” Bash interrupts. I whip to his head peeking around the corner, an impish grin in place. His golden eyes are wide with mischief. “Which one was your favorite, Mal-gal?”

  “Which what?”

  “The window,” he says like it’s obvious. “You haven’t buried it in your memory already, have you?”

  Kai wipes a hand over his face. “You don’t have to entertain him.”

  No, but I could use some light-hearted merrymaking after all this heaviness. “Certainly not, but I think it’d be fun if I did.” I motion to Bash on my way into the bathroom. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

  “Always with the deals, this one,” he grumbles while practically skipping his way across the hall.

  I study the scene. A woman and four men are in the middle of a clearing in the woods. Two men engage with her, the one below possessing long, flaxen hair like Legolas. The second stands ready to enter her other channel, looking like a vascular version of Ryland. Two others stand nearby, the sight of them tinting my cheeks. A redhead holds the length of the other’s cock, lips grazing his neck. The raven-haired beauty’s mouth stretches agape in pleasure. Down to beads of moisture in places I’d rather not mention, not a single lewd detail is lacking. It’s probably one of the most masterfully crafted pieces of stained glass in existence, yet to sing of its glories would be taboo.

  Bash mercifully breaks the silence. “I’d go for Spring, myself.”

  “Spring?”

  “The blond, that is.”

  Oh. The man underneath. “He is beautiful,” I agree. But they all are. “Is ‘Spring’ what you guys call blonds here?”

  “Not exactly,” Kai says from the doorway. “Think of Spring as a clan or ethnicity. It isn’t as strictly delineated these days, but all fae originate from the four courts representative of each season.”

  Alright, so Spring is pale hair. “Is each man in this a different season?”

  Bash answers my question with another question. “Can you guess the other three?”

  Hmm. “The red one would definitely be Summer. Do I get a point?”

  “You do.” That means Bash and his convenient body heat are probably Summer, too.

  From there, it’s difficult to discern. Dark hair reminds me of long winter nights, but lavender is easily light enough to represent snow. Come to think of it, the red would’ve made sense as Autumn, too.

  I don’t freaking know. “Uhh…pastel purple for Winter and black is Autumn?”

  “Better luck next time,” Bash taunts.

  “Think of Winter as shadows and darkness,” Kai explains. “Autumn appears as several colors, but the silver and lavender bloodlines have always held dominant power and appear most often in artwork.”

  Ryland’s ornery face with his high cheekbones and pouty lips comes to mind. “Therefore Eversmart is Autumn and you are…?”

  “Winter, but I’ve been told my mother’s line has a Summer marriage somewhere recent.” Looking at his ashy brown hair, I can see how a smidge of Summer may have brightened it.

  “I guess I can see tha—” I say before being interrupted by my stomach. Kai smiles so genuinely in response it makes me want to teach my stomach how to growl on demand.

  “Annnnd that’s why I knocked on your door,” he says.

  “If the length you slept means anything, I’d say it was you instead of Kai who suffered an injury.”

  “Hey. In all fairness, I’m feeling pretty injured psychologically right now,” I retort.

  “Sai-ko-huh?” Bash looks to Kai. “Do all humans talk like this?”

  “This is why you read books written after the 1800s, Sebastian,” Kai tuts.

  “So I can end up in Meadowbrook like you?”

  Kai’s eyes cast downward, and the air thickens with soured banter. Something went personal, and it has to do with our shitty apartments. “What are you talking about?” I ask Bash.

  “I’ll leave him to explain while I order us supper,” he says, heading for the suite’s door.

  “Hold on. Supper?” My voice jumps an octave. “If breakfast is ‘supper,’ what do fae call dinner?”

  “You already slept through brekky, Mal-gal,” he hollers from the entrance.

  I turn to Kai, who presents me with a one-sided grimace. “Oh my god, did I really?”

  He sheepishly nods. “You were out. Ryland said the sound of your heavy human breathing drove him mad. He left sometime early this morning, Bash was saying.”

  My eyes pop wide with embarrassment for a split second before remembering Ryland’s an asshole.

  No. He’s a faehole.

  “In that case, you’re welcome,” I reply smoothly. Bash steps out into the corridor while chuckling, leaving the two of us alone.

  Kai’s eyes look like calving glaciers as they pore over my face. “I think you needed it as much as me.” The accuracy of his statement drives home to my gut as memories of last night resurface. I let out a sigh that ends up sounding more like a sniffle. Judging by his face, Kai thinks so, too.

  I can see the wheels turning as he grapples with what to say next, but I don’t want the comforting words. I want answers. “So…what was Bash on about?”

  He runs his uninjured hand through his hair, resting it atop his crown. “Let’s get you some water and I’ll explain.” He leads me into the front room, motioning for me to sit down. I choose the mustard chaise as he pours water from a pitcher.

  “Woah, let me get that for you,” I protest. I attempt to wrest it from him, but he shoos me out of reach.

  “I’ve had worse,” he says, holding the glass out to me. “But thank you for the consideration.” Before he can sit with his own, I guzzle mine down. He begins as I serve myself a second glass. “Bash was referencing my short banishment to your realm.”

  His kindness makes sense given he’s also had the pleasure of being dropped into another world. “You told me portals are hard to come by, so what did you do to earn the privilege?”

  “Well,” he starts. “The first thing to understand about me is my father’s position on the council.”

  “Another politician?” Funny that the first thing he mentions of himself is his father.

  “Not at all. He’s more of an intrigue and security expert. He earned the position through military prowess.”

  “Right on.” That explains his shadow boxing and other martial exercises.

  “Anyway, he’s built a healthy stockpile of clout over the years and was owed a favor. So when he caught me with a human book printed with modern ink, which is somewhat toxic to us, he said if I loved humans so much I could go live with them.”

  Delightful. It’s like a parent forcing their teenager to smoke an entire pack of cigarettes after catching them with one. “And that’s severe enough a punishment it’d warrant wasting a portal?”

  “Iron toxicity. Throwing me into downtown—surrounded by steel and smartphones—is akin to throwing a fish onto land. This,” he shakes his right palm, “would have healed within hours without treatment were I not already weakened.”

  It’s much improve
d, but still gross. “No wonder you grabbed it with such little hesitation relative to the wound it caused. Bash was still zero percent into it, though.”

  “Well, he probably knew he’d be busy carrying me to town,” Kai cracks. “And you were kind of a handful.” Aww, they noticed my improvised bravado.

  “Fair enough. So, what book were you reading?” His body freezes, the mood shifting. “…That bad?” Blood rushes to his fair complexion, painting him bashful. “Oh my gosh,” I gasp scandalously. “Was it something dirty?” He rests his forehead onto one fist and shakes in silent laughter. “Oh, you’ve got to tell me now.”

  Kai hits me with major puppy-dog eyes as he rises from his hunched over position. Please don’t make me say it, Mallory. His dark brows draw together, lips curled inward as if it’ll protect them from spilling the title of the damn book.

  “You’re cute, but no dice. Tell me the naughty book, Kai.”

  He lets out a purposefully dramatic sigh. “No laughing.”

  “Sure, sure,” I promise.

  Leaning forward with dead eyes, he finally utters the words I’ve been waiting to hear. “Pride and Prejudice.”

  I narrowly keep my promise, my head recoiling from how silly it is to be ashamed of something half my high school was forced to read. “You didn’t finish it, did you?”

  Kai’s features twist in confusion. “Not before being banished, no. Why?”

  “It’s ironic that…” How can I put this? “In the interest of saving face, you skirted around telling me about reading a book famously known for airing the pitfalls of pride.”

  “I read enough to know you’re channeling Elizabeth Bennet,” he muses.

  This pleases me more than I’d like to admit. “A positive influence, I hope?”