Wishes to Burn

by Ellabee Andrews

  “How about we talk while we walk back? Get these kids back to my house and cleaned up.”

  Nodding, Fifi graciously takes his offered arm, allowing him to lead her back through the clearing. Even with her outfit disheveled and wig lost to the storm, she looks regal, and I envy her that ability. Covered in mud and blood, I no doubt look like swamp thing.

  That thought gives me the motivation I need to start walking, but Maksim stops me when he lifts me gently into his arms. Smiling gratefully at him, I sink into his arms and close my eyes as he walks.

  With the others walking by our sides, his heat surrounding me, and the warmth in my chest at knowing that I’m not going to lose him, I fall asleep before we even make it out of the clearing.

  Everything moves fast once Satine wakes me at Brendan’s house. Fifi must have done a patch job on my wing to stop the bleeding while I slept cradled in Maksim’s arms, but it still hurt, the pain throbbing in time with my beating heart.

  I didn’t get a chance to thank all of the fire users that showed up to help me, but Brendan said that for many of them, they’d need to work out their excess energy from a hunt that ended too abruptly. Whatever that means.

  "Your friends aren't so different from my sisters and me," one of the hellhound triplets say, and I wrack my brain before deciding it's Holly.

  “How so?” I ask more out of politeness. I’m dirty, tired, and hurting, so thankful for her help or not, I don’t really feel like twenty questions.

  Holly either doesn’t notice or care about my lack of enthusiasm, and claims the seat beside me on the couch where everyone had left me so they could get us ready to leave. She’s small, so she barely takes up any room, but I haven’t forgotten the large hellhound from the clearing. Appearances can be deceiving.

  “They knew exactly where to find you. Which is curious, since you’d never been to this area before, and I doubt any of them would have willingly let you out of their sight. Which begs the question, how?”

  My body tenses at her question, the memory of Fifi ordering me to keep our bond to myself fresh in mind, and Holly tilts her head to the side as she studies me. “You’re afraid of something. Interesting. You don’t have to tell me how they knew, but I wanted to give you this,” she says as she hands me a card. Upon closer inspection, I see that it has ‘HHH’ and a phone number. Nothing else.

  “What’s this?” I ask, but already have a feeling that I know. I just want to know why.

  Placing her hands in her lap in a dainty manner, she turns to face me. "That is the number you can reach my sisters and me at. We don't give it out often, and never to anyone outside of our group, but we discussed it and decided that you'll probably need it. We've had our whole lives to learn to live and thrive with the others' thoughts in our heads, but it's not easy. It's a dance that you must perfect. One where you will come close to stepping on each other's toes, but to master it? That, Rhia, is a beautiful thing. When you realize you're in over your head and need some help, give us a call."

  With her message delivered, Holly rises from her seat right as her sisters appear in the doorway. Once she makes it to them, she turns and I’m held under the gaze of their eerily identical stares before they turn as a unit and walk away.

  Relaxing once they're gone, I run the paper through my hands, committing the number to memory, and place it in my pocket right as the others enter the room. They all hold various items that Brendan gave them, but besides a first aid kit, I don't recognize anything else.

  “The offer stands for y’all to stay here a while and collect yourself. No need to rush off,” Brendan announces as he walks in behind them, but he only has eyes for Fifi.

  Dressed now in rhinestone jeans and a crop top, Fifi smiles up at him. She still hasn’t replaced her wig, opting to wrap her hair in a beautiful lace headwrap instead. “That’s very kind of you, Honey. But we can’t. The dean has already informed me that they’re to be on the next flight back to school for an emergency meeting.”

  This doesn't come as a shock to any of us, as Fifi had been required to call Dean Wiseman and inform her of the attack, but the sadness I see on her face as she and Brendan gaze at each other. That is something I hadn't expected. Sure, they'd flirted, but Fifi did that with lots of people. I don't even think she realized it sometimes. She just had a natural charisma. Looking at her now though, face uncertain as she looks up at Brendan, I wonder if this isn't something more.

  “I know you have to, but my door is open. Anytime. You just come on back,” Brendan tells her in a low voice, and I look away. The moment seems intimate, and I feel awkward overhearing it.

  Fifi must catch on to all of our obvious attempts at looking distracted by anything else in the room, because she clears her throat and straightens her spine, the perky godmother I’ve come to know and love returning in an instant.

  “Thank you, Honey. I’ll remember that. We need to be on our way now, though. Before the Dean sends the council enforcers to pick us up,” she jokes, but I secretly wonder if there’s not some truth to that too. We’ve all heard of the Council Enforcement Squad, but nobody ever says much about them. Too worried they’d catch their wrath.

  “Of course. Well… It’s been nice having you. Maksim, the offer still stands. And you know you can call if you have questions?”

  “Yes, thank you. I don’t think I’ll need to, but I appreciate the offer,” Maksim replies. There’s no hesitation in his voice, and again my chest warms when he reconfirms he’s not going anywhere.

  “Well, all right then. I guess this is it. After you get your things from the house, just go ahead and lock her up. I’ll be over to straighten everything out. No need to waste time cleaning up. Just go on and get back to school, and take care of yourself.”

  None of us argue with Brendan, too tired to care about tidying up the old farmhouse, and after a few thanks and goodbyes, we make our way back toward the rental, Fifi taking the longest to exit the house.

  When she joins us, I ignore the glossy sheen of her eyes, and just wrap my arms around her back, taking care with my wing. Laying her head on my shoulder, Fifi sighs.

  “That was one smoking hot man,” she says, and when she laughs at her pun, I join her.

  “He wasn’t my type, but yea, I’d say he was hot,” I tease back, feeling lighter. It doesn’t hurt when Fifi flicks her wrist and we’re all clean again.

  “Damn that’s a good trick,” Declan says when he stretches out his arms, inspecting them for any leftover dirt, and Satine scoffs.

  "Yea, too bad it can't work on your hair. You really need a haircut," she teases, but I find myself liking the way his hair has grown longer on top since we arrived in the country.

  “Come now, Satine. Don’t be that way. You and Gavril only wish you could rock this shade of orange.”

  “Hey! Don’t bring me into this conversation. And I could totally rock that orange. I’d just rather be covered in something else instead,” Gavril adds to the conversation, throwing a wink in my direction that has my body heating for a reason other than Maksim being so close by.

  When everyone either laughs or groans, I find myself smiling as we arrive at the rental. Sure, I'm hurt, again. Someone tried to kill me, again. But I am surrounded by the people that have become like family, and we are all alive and together. Things are bad, but they could be worse, and we can deal with everything else later.

  Epilogue

  "I'm beginning to wonder if you're not more of a detriment to these students than a help, Francesca. Every time you're around, they're in trouble. Trouble that I have to deal with. Who do you think has to tell the King and Queen of the Leprechauns when their son has been involved in an accident or fight? Who is responsible for reporting to the council that their future head of the succubi was in harm’s way again? Even the gargoyles with their brutish ways can only tolerate so many instances of their heir being in danger before they start to question the integrity of this school. Of me! This is unacceptable and–”


  “Oh, stuff it, Cresseda! Students or not, they’re adults. No matter their stations. What you should be asking is who keeps putting them in jeopardy. Why is someone so dead set on getting to Rhia? How did they even know where to find her? An elemental elf like that doesn’t come cheap, so whoever it is we’re dealing with, they’re not a nobody. That’s what you should be focused on. Not your reputation.”

  The arguing between Fifi and Dean Wiseman has been going on for so long, that we've all found places to sit and make ourselves comfortable. They don't even seem to notice us anymore, and I wonder if they've forgotten we're in here.

  I’m good with that, but secretly, I’m rooting for Fifi, who has refused to cower at the dean’s feet.

  “I’ve got twenty on Fifi. Dean Wiseman looks mad, but Fifi will whip out her wand and give her two heads or something,” Gavril jokes quietly at my side, his hand cool in mine, and I nod that I agree. Though more delicate, I’ve seen what Fifi is capable of and won’t ever make the mistake of underestimating her.

  “I don’t know. Fifi’s the best, but Dean Wiseman is descended from Echidna, the Mother Of All Monsters. The Dean may abide by the rules, but she’ll also do whatever it takes to win and preserve her reputation,” Maksim replies, eyeing the both of them like he’s really giving it some thought.

  Satine doesn’t bother guessing, she just rests her cheek in her hand, and when she catches me staring, gives a small half smile that’s just for me. I return it with one of my own, already thinking about the next time I can be alone with her, with any of them. Now that we’ve figured out how to feed her without us hurting, or her starving, I plan to make sure it never becomes an issue again. I’ll work tirelessly to make sure of that.

  Slamming her hand down on top of her wooden desk, my attention swings back to the Dean where I see her chest is rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes are narrowed on the fairy godmother, but there’s also a glint in them that I don’t like. Something’s up.

  "Well, since you seem so concerned about their wellbeing, then I guess it's a good time to tell you that you and them have been summoned to appear at the Leprechaun court. The King has questions he'd like to ask his son and friends himself, and since you seem to go where they go, despite my telling you otherwise," Dean Wiseman says, shooting Fifi a scathing look before leaning back in her chair, "then you get to go along with them. Don't get comfortable. You leave in two days. I suggest you pack a bag. The Leprechauns want their prince home and are out for the blood of those responsible for trying to harm him. They are impatiently waiting to hear from the lot of you what happened."

  Eyes wide, I look at Declan and find that his face has paled as he stares at the dean. Shifting his gaze away from her, he meets my gaze and swallows hard. Knowing what I do of his parents and their order that he find a wife, I can understand his apprehension. And then it hits me. It’s not just him that has been beckoned home. It’s all of us. Meaning, not only is there still someone out there trying to kill me, but I’m about to meet the parents to my boyfriend. Accompanied by two more boyfriends, my girlfriend, and my fairy godmother.

  I sink my face into my hands as I think about the summer vacation I had planned. All I had wanted was an uneventful, relaxing break with my friends, and now I'm going to a royal court. I'm just not sure what I'd rather be facing. Assassins, or parents?

  The End…

  For Now.

  Sneak Peek

  Keep reading for a look at book one in The Gilded Cage Series, Sing For Me. Available on Amazon and KU now.

  Sing For Me

  The spotlights are hot as they shine down on me, bathing my body in a pink glow as they reflect off the glitter and gems that cover my costume. They no longer blind me as they once did. I’d grown up on this stage, and I know it as intimately as I do my own body.

  I ignore the urge to look at the crowd to try and discern individual faces, because it doesn’t matter. Once the curtain falls, they’ll be gone, and I’ll go back to my trailer until the next night. When I do it all over again.

  Smiling coyly as I slowly settle into my swing, I begin to sway, beating my wings gently behind me to propel me forward, a motion that I’m told the audience loves. Though they aren’t close enough to see the silver specks that dot my lavender eyes, I look up through my lashes, and pretend I’m somewhere else. But since this stage, and the cage my swing sits in, are all I’ve ever known, I can’t pretend for long.

  “Ladies and Gentleman, tonight we have a very special treat for you all. One of the rarest creatures to ever grace the stage, a beauty unmatched by others, and a voice so exquisite, none can compare. I give you the diamond of this show. The one, the only, Nightingale!”

  My heart beats faster as I hear the ringmaster announce me. A blush staining my cheeks as I think of his immaculately groomed mustache, or the suit that hugs his lithe, but muscular form. Even twenty years my senior, he is as handsome as he is charismatic. Though, he never looks at me the way I do him.

  “As you can see, she’s a bit shy, so I think you’ll need to coax her a little, make her see that you are excited to hear the voice that’s worth crossing oceans for,” he says, as he twists his arms in my direction in a rehearsed practice that’s repeated each night, and just like all the other times, the crowd screams their excitement. Their shouts and cheers almost too loud, even for my partially deaf ears.

  That’s okay, though. Even if I can’t make out their distinct words, I can feel the bass of the music as it blends with the rhythmic pounding of their colliding hands. It floats through the air, coaxing the part inside of me that is drawn by the music. The song, my place of solitude.

  Perched in my cage, my large black wings still beating behind me, I push aside my long curls, the pink, orange and white colors of them blending together in an ombre effect. Despite the beliefs of others, the color is all natural. What had started as a few curls here and there, with a kiss of pink or a touch of orange, has grown to cover my whole head, each year the colors only become more prominent.

  Seeing my cue, the ringmaster lifts his right arm, twisting his wrist in a theatrical way, and I push aside any thoughts that don’t pertain to the performance before me. Wondering whether my mother would have had curls like mine or if it was my father that passed down the ebony color of my wings will do me no good now. The show has begun, and I am but a willing servant to it.

  With the eyes of the crowd watching me, I’m no longer the unsure seventeen-year-old Nightingale shifter. I’m The Songbird. The jewel of the Tri-Star Circus, and this is where I belong.

  Strengthened by those thoughts, I open my mouth as the music silences, and let the first notes of my lullaby spill from my lips. A song I had never been taught, but have known for as long as I can remember.

  “As the river runs, and the trees sway, there is a kingdom far away. Upon the clouds, it reaches high, where angels fly through the sky.”

  The words leave my lips in a slow, almost melancholy tone, and a sense of homesickness fills me, leaving my chest heavy, and my heart aching for a place I’ve never known. Home is the trailer and the circus I travel with. Yet, despite reminding myself of this each night, I sing my song, serenading the crowd with the breathy, melodious tones of my voice.

  The audience reacts to my lullaby the way it always does. The people who were but moments ago talking over each other to be heard, and full of energy, are now silent. The music no longer rings throughout the large, striped tent, and even the animals in their pens are still.

  Nothing moves as I belt out the last few notes of my song, and no one notices the tears that trace salty paths down my face. Tears for a place I’ve never known, except for in my lullaby.

  “You were distracted tonight Lori, what’s up?” Sal, my closest friend and fellow performer asks as she walks into my trailer without knocking.

  She knows she’s always welcome, and gave up on the habit of announcing herself years ago. Besides, even if she tried to sneak up on me, I’d feel the heat that she natural
ly emits before she even had the chance. As a Phoenix, she runs much hotter than humans or other supernaturals, and my wings are especially good at sensing that heat.

  Scrubbing off the last of my makeup, taking care to remove the glitter that is arranged into intricate designs, I answer with my eyes closed. “Was it that obvious? I tried not to let it show, but I don’t know, I just couldn’t get into it out there. Like, the closer my birthday gets, the harder it is for me to concentrate. Even my lullaby has lost its ability to soothe me like it once did. The crowd didn’t notice did they?” I ask, trying to keep my voice neutral, and not show my worry, but she knows me better than that.

  Coming to stand by my side, I open my eyes, half of my face still done up in the performance makeup. Our stares meet in the mirror and I hate the pity I see in her eyes. It’s in the small downturn of her lips. “Did the crowd notice? Or did Barney notice?” She guesses my true thoughts, using the ringmaster’s first name, and I curse my pale skin for allowing my blush to shine through so brightly.

  Sighing at the obvious answer, she claims the right edge of the bench I sit on, sitting so that she can speak into my good ear, and never breaking eye contact in the mirror.

  The two of us couldn’t be more opposite if we tried. Me, with my moonlight pale skin, and hers like onyx. My long hair with the pastel curls, while hers is short, almost shaved to her head, bright red with yellows and oranges strategically placed to mimic the flames of her phoenix form. Despite these differences, we had formed an unlikely friendship years ago when I defended her from some of the other performers.

  I’d stood up for the small girl with the lost face, but she’d soon proved I shouldn’t have bothered when she shifted into a bird made of flames and burnt the clothes right off her bullies. We’d shared a lot of laughs that day, and still reminisced about it at times since then. It was the day I knew solidified our friendship for life.