by Liz Schulte
By Liz Schulte
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Amazon Edition
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ISBN: B00BIRPM7K
Copyright © 2013 by Liz Schulte
Formatting by JT Formatting
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
For my third floor girls.
I stood in my scorched, hollowed-out yoga studio, turning in a listless circle, too numb to feel. The storefront was a wet, smoldering pile of ash and the building, merely a shell.
“Was anyone hurt?” I asked, barely recognizing my own voice. Numb was too small of a word—shell-shocked was more accurate.
“No.” Femi’s voice came from the doorway. I didn’t even know she was there. She prowled around the room, silent as death, her green cat eyes collecting every detail. “It happened overnight.”
I took a shaky breath. “That’s good.”
“Officially this is an electrical fire,” Cheney said, and Sy snorted. I looked back at the guys, but mostly at Cheney. Just looking at him made my knees a little weak.
“Why would anyone want to burn down your studio?” Sy asked. “It’s just so …”
Evil, hurtful, devastating—
“Bold,” Femi supplied.
I nodded and kicked a piece of sodden, smoking wood.
I hadn’t been back here in months, but losing my studio this way felt like seeing a part of myself destroyed.
“Was it rebels?” I whispered with equal parts suspicion and surprise. I hadn’t figured out my relationship with the rebels, but maybe they were as hostile toward me as Cheney believed. “Or the elves?” That made more sense . . . They really hated me. Most of them refused to acknowledge me, even though I was their queen consort or whatever.
Not for the first time, I wondered if the cost of Cheney and me being together was an unfair one for him to pay. It seemed he had one fire to put out after another because of us—because of me.
I glanced at Cheney. With his wild hair, gleaming golden eyes, and sharp-tipped ears, he looked grim and breathtaking in the scorched, dark space. He no longer used his glamour—had chosen not to disguise his elfin features with human ones—ever since he forcibly took the crown from his father and became Erlking. It was something else I was going to have to get used to—much like this constant pull in my chest toward him.
“Rebels,” Cheney said with an air of finality.
Sy lifted his golden eyebrows, and I bit my lip and turned away from them. I didn’t know what to think anymore. On one hand I had my cousin, Sy, who I was beginning to think I didn’t know nearly enough about. He seemed to know a little about everything happening in the Abyss. Sy was connected, no doubt, but was he impartial? Even though we were related, I didn’t feel a familial connection, so it was hard to imagine he was only involved to help me. Not being able to remember my life as one of them, and being told that I’d chosen to come to earth as a human rather than recalling that information myself, had been infuriating before—and was driving me insane now.
Sy wanted me to come and stay with him until my memory returned and I figured out which side I should fall on. He thought the fact that I’d apparently had some sort of relationship with Jaron, the rebel leader, meant I needed to distance myself from Cheney. And it probably was the prudent thing to do, but I refused.
Then there was Cheney, the Erlking and my magically bound husband. He definitely wasn’t impartial, but from what I had seen and learned about him since he walked back into my life, he was a good man. The trouble was I couldn’t bring myself to fully trust my feelings for him. I’d dabbled in magic long enough to know that spells having to do with the heart were tricky. Done right they could make a person with no feelings for another person suddenly be madly in love. Having a husband was scary enough; having a magically bound husband who I never had a chance to choose kept me on edge most of the time.
I was walking a thin line, and a strong wind in any direction could tip me. If I chose to explore my rebel connections, I could lose Cheney—and he’d waited so long to get me back, I didn’t know how much more he would take. But ignoring the connection might mean I was turning my back on what I believed.
I lifted my hand and touched Cheney’s smooth, lovely face. Real or not, right now I loved him.
And maybe I didn’t have a decision looming over me. Maybe I was exactly where I was supposed to be, so why ruin everything by overthinking? That’s what I wanted to believe, anyway, but a nagging feeling said I could be wrong—stupid elf side.
Cheney wrapped an arm around my waist, and I almost sighed with relief as I leaned my head against his shoulder. Magical bonds are not to be taken lightly. The magnetic pull of them was painful when denied. When we weren’t touching, I felt his absence—a dull, constant ache in my center. If the need wasn’t fulfilled, it grew.
Cheney endured years of agony while we were separated, while I was living a human life and felt nothing. Now that my elf side was back in full force, I could hardly make it half a day without wanting to curl up and cry if he wasn’t at my side. I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes to the ashes of my past that surrounded me. I had planned on never coming back anyway, right? So this didn’t matter. Not really. Maybe losing the studio—my last physical connection to my fully human side—was for the best. I had to find a way to be content in my new life. It was where I belonged now. I struggled with a lump in my throat.
“So why did you call us here?” Cheney asked Femi, and I frowned. Wasn’t the destruction of my studio reason enough?
Femi waved us to the back and nudged my office door open with her foot. A knife stuck out of the center of my blackened desk. I pulled away from Cheney to get a closer look. A picture of Michael was tacked to the top of the desk with the knife.
“Do you know who this is?” Femi asked.
“My ex-fiancé. Michael,” I breathed. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Michael’s number. It went directly to voice mail. I looked back at them.
“He’s a human?” Sy asked. I nodded. “What’s his last name?”
“Chr
istian.”
Sy pulled out his own phone and walked away.
“Is this a threat?” I looked between Femi and Cheney. “We have to find him. Warn him.”
Cheney scowled. “No, we need to slow down and think things through. How are you going to warn him when you can’t tell him about our world? What if he’s already dead?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What we need is to have your coven and your grandmother move back into the castle until we can be sure they’re safe. What we don’t need is to panic and involve humans.”
“They can’t just drop everything. They have lives.”
“Exactly, and I’m protecting those lives. They’re an asset to our kingdom.”
I sputtered, not knowing what to say. My friends were not assets. They were practically my family. I didn’t appreciate him viewing them in such a cold manner.
“Cheney’s right, Selene. Don’t panic. We’ll figure everything out,” Femi said. “Wait and see what Sy’s up to.”
I called each of the girls, who all agreed a little too willingly to come back—I guess no one likes their day job—and let Cheney call my grandmother while we waited for Sy to return. Finally he reappeared in the doorway, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his worn jeans—a pose that made his biceps bulge the sleeves of his faded black Batman shirt. As ever when I studied him, I looked for a family resemblance—and found none. Similar golden, tan skin and slightly pointed ears, but that was it. His hair was as blond as mine was dark, and his eyes were so silver they were almost mirrored. Mine had been described as pools of honey. My inability to see or feel our blood connection aside, however, I liked Sy a lot. He was open, friendly, and, best of all, he never compared me to the way I used to be.
“Michael was reported missing this morning.” Sy’s eyes locked on me. “You want me to start looking into this?”
I nodded and Cheney said, “If you have time, great. Unfortunately, Selene and I have too much to do to allow the rebels to divert our attention. I hope the human is alive.”
“Right, you wouldn’t want to waste your time saving someone’s life,” Femi said.
Cheney never talked about elf business outside of the castle. Sebastian, Cheney, and I were trying to sift through mounds of records to figure out what his father had been up to. I wasn’t sure I was useful, since I couldn’t read ninety percent of the documents because they were in a foreign language, but Cheney liked for me to be there. We were also making plans to invite all the fae races to choose a representative to serve on his council. I had only seen my friends a handful of times—at the coven meetings, to be more precise—since we took over. Being a queen wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. However, I wasn’t about to let office duties stand in the way of protecting those I loved. Michael and I hadn’t worked out, but I still cared about him, and he was in danger because of me.
Cheney glared at Femi. “It isn’t like that. I want to save the human too, but we have obligations and can’t afford to lose any more time.”
I closed my eyes, doubting Cheney’s statement. He didn’t like Michael; he couldn’t even say his name. I didn’t think he cared a whit whether he lived or died. I didn’t blame him, exactly, but it didn’t change how I felt either. “I can’t ignore something like this,” I said. “You and Sebastian can carry on without me. I have to help Sy and Femi.”
“Mmm, no. That’s not a good idea.” Cheney shook his head. “Whoever did this was probably hoping for this response. You’re playing into their hands.”
“If no one else will say it, I will,” Femi purred, one hand on her jutted hip, her bronze skin rippling with emotion. “This sure as hell wasn’t an electrical fire, and I’d be willing to bet a life that the so-called rebels didn’t do this either. The human might still be alive. You can’t just ignore that.”
Femi’s goddess heritage was showing in full force, and as she stared down Cheney, her vertical pupils almost disappeared. I took a step back.
Unlike me, however, Cheney didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by her take-no-shit-from-anyone attitude or the fighting stance her leather-clad, cat-lithe muscular body had suddenly assumed.
“Relax, Sekhmet. We’ll figure something out,” Cheney grumbled.
Her posture eased and she winked at me when I stared too long, snapping me back to reality. “Sorry. So what do we do?”
She laughed. “That’s what I like about you. You haven’t had a clue what’s going on since I met you, but you’re always in the thick of it. What other enemies do you have, Hermione?”
“Human Selene,” I patted myself on the chest, “doesn’t have enemies. But the half-elf me was apparently a bitch that no one liked.” I ran my hands through my hair. “You guys know more about who hated me most than I do.” I couldn’t wrap my mind around why Jaron and his men would destroy my studio. It wasn’t a logical move if they wanted me to come back.
Femi gave me a peculiar look before spinning around and walking away with her phone in hand. I moved in the opposite direction, needing to be in motion.
“I like you, coz.” Sy gave me a lop-sided grin. My eyes filled with tears and his eyes widened slightly. “We’ll find this guy. Don’t worry.”
“I wish I remembered something. Anything. Why can’t people leave me alone?”
No one could explain why awakening my elf half hadn’t brought back my memories. My grandmother, Edith Meriweather, and my coven had cast every spell they could think of the past weeks, trying to recover my memory—with pathetic results. Each memory they managed to return came with pain. It started off small with headaches but intensified with every new spell. Now, sensations ranged from feeling I was eating broken glass to being hit with a bat. On occasion there had even been blood. And nothing I remembered seemed significant in any way or helped me understand anything better.
I was everyone’s favorite topic of discussion. What’s wrong with Selene? She’s not herself. My human friends insisted I’d changed, always pointing out the elf. Cheney and his second in command, Sebastian, always pointed out my human weaknesses. I had begun to spend a lot more time alone because they all got on my nerves.
“You will get your memories back. Just be patient,” Cheney said.
“We don’t have time for patience—and how do you know I will? What if I don’t and someone takes Grandma or my friends or you?” I threw my arms up in the air. “I can’t keep dealing with all the things I did wrong in the past. It’s driving me crazy. I can’t put everyone else in danger because I seemed to have made one bad decision after another.” By the end of my rant I was shouting and the already unstable room was vibrating. I needed to calm down. I took a deep breath and shut down the fear, worry, and panic threatening to take over.
Femi slung her arm over my shoulder. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, but there’s nothing we can do tonight. You need a night out away from everything.” She led me toward the door, ignoring Cheney’s and my objections. “Don’t wait up, boys.”
Femi dragged me out of the studio and to her car. We needed to look for Michael, but nevertheless, here we were, walking into a weird bar one scary-fast car ride later. The place was called Snow, and everything inside was stark white except for the black lights that made the room glow. I followed Femi to a table where Olivia, a guardian, sat with an amused expression.
“You managed to get away from your guard dog?” Femi asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Olivia shook her head. “If Holden knew I intended to meet you at yet another jinn bar, I would’ve never made it out of the house.” She laughed, not looking overly upset.
I glanced around the room again, wondering what she meant by a “jinn bar.” From Sebastian’s lessons I knew jinn were supposed to be bad, but if that was true, what were we doing there?
“Damn, I always forget,” Femi said, taking a chair to the left of Olivia.
I sat too. “It’s not safe here?”
Olivia laughed. “Not at all. Femi’s idea of a girls’ night out isn’t the same as your
s or mine. She likes to poke bears.”
Femi held up her hands innocently. “I just want to have a good time. We’re perfectly safe. Olivia is the scariest person in here.” Olivia laughed again and shrugged. I doubted she could frighten anyone. “But enough talk. Let’s dance.” Femi was on the dance floor in a flash, her body becoming one with the music. I looked at Olivia and she got up, her blue-green eyes twinkling.
“Stay near me,” she said in my ear.
I nodded. As soon as I stepped down the two steps and onto the dance floor, my mind was wiped clear. I didn’t think or feel anything except the vibrating beat. A hand brushed my arm and instinctively I followed the touch, my mind blank.
“No, you don’t,” Olivia said behind me, catching my shoulder and keeping her hand there. Everything cleared. The ache from being away from Cheney was back, along with worry and uncertainty—I liked the dreamy haze better. Olivia held onto me until I turned back to her and Femi. “We shouldn’t have come here, Femi,” Olivia shouted over the music.
“Why?” Femi yelled back. Olivia nodded in my direction, and I suddenly felt like a child who couldn’t take care of herself and I didn’t like it. I was perfectly capable. “She’s fine,” Femi said. “You’re a fighter, aren’t you, Selene?”
Damn right, my inner voice said. I could make all these people my puppets if I wanted. The thought made me smile and feel a little better. The muscles in my shoulders loosened as we danced and laughed with each other. After several songs, another hand brushed my elbow, but it wasn’t the same this time. The sensation was familiar, but not alluring. I turned around and Jaron was behind me. My stomach dropped and I was flooded with curiosity and trepidation. I backed up, plowing directly into Femi.
