Daring Hearts: Fearless Fourteen Boxed Set

by Box Set

  “It is. But at the same time, it’s not. When I first saw you, I knew you’d have answers for me.”

  I put my arms around her shoulders and pulled her closer until the waitress brought us our food. We finished the meal in a comfortable silence. She needed the thinking time and so did I.

  She was here, so I had to make plans to stay here. There was just no telling with my father. He could decide tomorrow that he wanted to leave for good.

  And I wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I’ll answer everything I can, sweetheart. There’s still some things I don’t know myself. But I know the important stuff.”

  “We should go, but I don’t want to go home yet.”

  “There’s nowhere we can just talk? Without parents? It’s hard to have to answer to parents.”

  She giggled. “I bet. Going from independence to parents again. Ouch. Um, there’s a place I know, but on Saturdays the kids use it to make-out, or so I’ve heard.”

  “Maybe back to your house?”

  She shrugged. “There’s a chance my foster parents are on a date. They go on dates. It’s cute.”

  “We didn’t have a date until after four lives. There was only courting before that. Our first date was dinner at this place in England.”

  “The cottage?”

  I laughed. It had taken a long time for me to be able to laugh at it. “Yes.”

  “But you said I married someone else.”

  “You did. You hated me.”

  “Idiot. I told you.”

  “Hey.” I grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, when all I wanted to do was kiss her plump lips. “Stop saying that. Give yourself a break.”

  “No one else does.”

  I groaned and opened the passenger door for her. “I could pummel those guys.”

  “I’m not driving?”

  With my palm, I stroked the side of her face. “I’m an old-fashioned guy, okay? It was bad enough you had to drive us here.”

  Laughing and shaking her head, she got in.

  “Let’s go.”

  Fasta

  Just as I’d thought, Moira and Ren were gone. Their date nights were Friday nights, but they often took Saturdays as well.

  “There’s some seats out in the garden.” He nodded and followed me to the outside where I turned on the twinkly lights, illuminating the chairs and benches around a fire pit. It was a little cold at night, so I turned on the propane and lit it up.

  “You know, I didn’t bring you flowers because you hate roses. And I already brought you chocolate today.”

  “I do hate roses. Thanks for not bringing them. Anyway, flowers wilt and die. I hate watching them die.”

  He bowed his head and I knew my flub. He’d had to watch me die so many times. I don’t know how he could stand it.

  “This is nice.” He sat on one of the outdoor couches and put his arm over the back. I didn’t know whether to sit next to him or not. But leaving him there felt empty.

  “Can I sit?” I asked.

  “I was hoping you would.”

  His arm went around my shoulders and he kissed my temple. He was affectionate. I kind of loved that.

  “Is that okay? You always liked it when I did that.”

  “I actually love it.”

  “Good.”

  “Since you came by this morning, I haven’t been so compelled to draw. There’s some images, but it’s not like it was before. It’s like you told me everything and it was over.”

  Concern marred his face. He didn’t answer right away, but sighed and looked out over the garden. “And you mourn it? I’ve taken something away from you.”

  “I do. Like I said, it was my hiding place. There’s a lot to hide from.”

  “I can be your safe place now. Us—this. This is your safe zone, if you want it to be.”

  “I do. It’s hard to explain, but it feels right.”

  Down deep, I knew the truth. My heart had always been in love with him. Little by little, who I was then and who I was then were merging—they were the same person after all. All the images weren’t just made of pencil and charcoal anymore—they were made of blood and pieces of my soul.

  He was made for me—and I for him. Sorrow filled my chest as I thought of all the pain I’d put him through.

  “I love you, Fasta. Time isn’t kind sometimes, especially to me. But know that. Keep it with you.”

  “You still have a couple of weeks to make me fall in love with you. You’re pouring it on pretty thick.”

  I snuggled in closer, his growing stubble tickling my face.

  “Two weeks isn’t enough. Two weeks is just the beginning.”

  “And what if I told you that it was too late?”

  He released me to sit up straight. “What do you mean?”

  This was the hard part. This was the final release. Finally, I had a future. Finally, I had someone to share it with. It was as though my whole life was spent holding my breath, waiting for something or someone to set me free.

  “I’m already in love with you. I think I’ve always known. Those images. They aren’t just weird pictures that come to me—they’re us. Those are our lives and our love. I just had to realize it. But they’re not pictures anymore. I can remember the smell of lamb roasting over the fire in Norway. I can remember the grape vines tickling my skin in Italy. I remember everything. It was you every time.”

  A tear came from my eye and he handed me a faint cream handkerchief.

  “It will always be me and you.” He breathed into my ear.

  THE FAERIE PRINCE

  * * *

  RACHEL MORGAN

  * * *

  * * IMPORTANT * *

  This is book 2 in the bestselling Creepy Hollow series. To make sure you don’t miss out on the beginning of the story, get your copy of book 1, The Faerie Guardian, for FREE at all major online retailers!

  (Trust me. You WANT to start with book 1!)

  * * *

  DOWNLOAD THE FAERIE GUARDIAN HERE

  Copyright

  The Faerie Prince

  By Rachel Morgan

  * * *

  First Edition published in 2013

  Second Edition published in 2015

  * * *

  Copyright © 2013, 2015 Rachel Morgan

  * * *

  Cover Photography by Regina Wamba

  Cover Design by Rachel Morgan

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously.

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For more information please contact the author.

  * * *

  Mobi Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9921863-4-0

  Epub Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9921863-5-7

  PART I

  One

  Every night I watch the same window on Draven Avenue. I keep my distance, and I never watch from the same place or at exactly the same time. Creepy, I know, but I have my reasons. I watch that window because I want to be the first one to know if he comes home. I want to see what kind of person he’s become since he broke my heart. I want to sense for myself the power he has, and I want to see him use it. And, yes, I want to see him.

  Nate.

  Mr. Draven Avenue.

  It’s not as though I want him back. I mean, the guy handed me over to a prince of the Unseelie Court—I’m not exactly hoping for a happily ever after here. To be honest, I’m not quite sure what I’m hoping for. Maybe I want to look into his eyes and ask him why he did it. Or maybe I just want to kick his ass.

  I lean back on the porch swing, relaxing into the swaying motion. The people who live in this house have gone to bed, so there’s no one awake to wonder why a swing might move on its own. Across th
e road and to the right I can see Nate’s window. Always in darkness.

  A twig snaps somewhere to my left, and I bring the swing to a quick standstill, my heart thumping a little faster than normal. It’s nothing more sinister than a cat, though, inching carefully across the grass in its attempt to stalk something. I want to laugh at myself for being so paranoid, but I know I have a good reason for being on edge: Zell might still be after me.

  I raise my hand and cover a yawn. I had an assignment earlier this evening, and tomorrow’s a normal day of training at the Guild, so I should probably put my obsessiveness aside for the night and get home to bed. I reach for my stylus—and freeze.

  I see a light. In Nate’s room. Hovering, dancing, fading in and out. In a second I’m on my feet—but the light is gone. I bite my lip. What should I do? I haven’t been inside his room since the night he betrayed me. It would be a stupid move given the strong possibility that Zell is magically monitoring Nate’s home in case I show up there. On the other hand, Flint did put protective spells around the house, so shouldn’t I be safe inside it? But I don’t know what kind of spells he used, and who or what they were meant to keep out.

  The light flickers again before vanishing once more. I slide my stylus out of my boot and open a doorway to the faerie paths. Home, or Nate’s bedroom? I roll my eyes as I step into the darkness. Right, like there was ever a chance I’d just ignore that light.

  My stomach does strange things when I step out of the doorway on Nate’s wall and into his moonlit bedroom. I remember being here with him so clearly. The large bed, the couches around the television, schoolwork piled on his desk—everything looks the same. That ache in my chest that I thought had disappeared is back again. As much as I want to kick Nate’s ass, a part of me just wants to feel his embrace and hear his easy laughter.

  Pathetic, I know.

  As I pad across Nate’s carpeted floor, my eyes peeled for the dancing light, I get a crazy sense of déjà vu. This is kind of like the night I met him. I was waiting here in the semi-darkness for the reptiscilla while a boy I didn’t know slept at his desk, oblivious to the fact that his whole world was about to change.

  I pull one of his cupboards open, but there’s no light hiding in there. A backpack slides forward and I push it back inside, pausing to look at the initials sewn onto the fabric. N. A. C. Nathaniel … something, something. It strikes me then just how little I know about Nate. I don’t even know his last name.

  Plink.

  My head swings toward the sound at the window, my hands up and in position to use my bow and arrow. It’s the hazy ball of light again, hovering just outside the window, bumping the glass before flitting away.

  Plink, plink.

  I stride over and pull the window up. The light bounces amongst the roses in the garden below. I step up onto the windowsill and jump down, bending my knees to absorb the impact as my feet hit the grass. I straighten—and hear movement behind me. Without hesitation I draw my leg up and kick backward. My foot connects with something soft.

  “Oof!”

  I spin around to see who it is, but something hits my ankle and trips me up. I roll as I hit the ground, trying to get away from whoever ambushed me. I jump to my feet, then duck as a swarm of bees zoom toward my face. I divert them with a gust of wind and send flames licking across the grass toward my attacker. He’s a faerie: shorter than average; green and blonde hair; well dressed. He jumps over the flames and crashes into me. I stagger back against a bush as he wraps his hands around my neck. I jerk my knee up and hit him where I know it’ll hurt most. As he doubles over in pain, clutching his groin, I spin him around and hold one of my glittering guardian knives against his neck.

  “Who are you and what do you want?” I demand.

  “You’re practically a fully trained guardian and you fell for the will-o’-the-wisp trick?” Despite the pain he’s clearly in, he manages to laugh. “Disappointing.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re the one with a knife to your neck,” I say. “That’s the only thing you should be disappointed about right now.”

  He grabs my arms at his neck, but a flame forms along the blade of my knife, searing his skin. He gasps in pain.

  “Tell me,” I say through gritted teeth. “Are you working for Zell? Did he send you here to get me?”

  “He wants you,” the faerie says. “I’ve been waiting here every night for you, Violet.”

  “Well, you’re not very observant,” I tell him, “because I’ve been here every night too. Tell Zell to send someone with actual skills next time if he really wants me.” And with that I kick the faerie away from me, adding enough magical force to send him sprawling into the bushes at the other end of the garden. I hurriedly scribble a doorway into the grass at my feet. Green sparks flash toward me, but I drop down into the black hole of the faerie paths just in time to avoid them.

  The darkness is complete. It’s as if I’m standing on nothing, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. I relax and imagine my home. After a moment, the darkness peels away and a doorway of light forms in front of me. I step into my kitchen to find Filigree—in his new favorite form, a miniature pig—standing on the table pushing nixles around with his snout. He appears to be organizing the tiny roasted bugs into piles according to color. I guess he didn’t like it when I bought the ‘assorted’ bag last time I went shopping.

  After patting Filigree’s pink head, I walk upstairs. I change out of my assignment clothes, but keep my trainee pendant around my neck. After my narrow escape from Zell’s dungeon, I did some research into the protective charms embedded in these pendants. Turns out one of the charms protects against the magical summoning of whoever wears the pendant. I never take it off anymore.

  I sit on the edge of my bed and absently comb my hand through the purple and dark chocolate-colored tangles of my hair. Before I can go to sleep there’s one last thing I have to do. I close my eyes and extend my mind. My thoughts spread out like fingers, brushing past thousands of other minds in my search for just one. I should be able to find him easily, even without holding an object that belonged to him.

  But there’s nothing. Just like I couldn’t sense Calla when she was trapped in Zell’s magically secured dungeon, I can’t sense Nate anymore.

  He doesn’t want to be found.

  * * *

  I wake the next morning with a feeling of unease curling in my stomach. I roll onto my back and stare at the enchanted skylight, watching yellow sunbeams filter through the topmost branches of the tree that conceals my home. It’s Friday. Just a regular Friday. Nothing important scheduled. So why do I feel like I’m forgetting something? Why do I feel like …

  I sit up in a sudden panic as it hits me.

  Oh, crap.

  Two

  Somewhere in between breaking the Guild’s most important rule and having my heart crushed by my first and only boyfriend, I became just like every other guardian trainee: I forgot to do my homework.

  First. Time. Ever.

  I’ve always been that annoying person who finishes a written assignment at least two days before the due date. Until this morning, that is, when my brain decided to remind me that we were given a project during my one week suspension. The due date?

  Today.

  Two and a half hours from now, to be exact.

  I hurry back to my table in the Guild’s library with another pile of books in my arms. Catching my foot on the chair leg, I send the books sliding across the table. “Oh, come on!” I kick the chair back, plop myself down, and grab the nearest book.

  “Stop freaking out, Vi,” Honey says from across the table. “This is completely normal for just about everyone else in our class. Did you see Aria and Jasmine over there?” I nod without removing my eyes from the page in front of me. “And do they look stressed out?”

  I glance up. Aria is reading a message on her amber, her chair tilted so far back she must be using magic to keep from crashing to the floor, and Jasmine is staring into space. I
return my gaze to the textbook. “Somehow, I don’t exactly find that comforting, Honey.”

  “Okay, bad example,” she says, pulling her own amber out of her pocket. She giggles at whatever message is waiting for her—probably from her boyfriend—and reaches for her stylus to reply.

  I scan the page in front of me, seeing nothing. What am I looking for again? Oh, right, using kelpie hair as an ingredient in—

  “Attention, fifth years.” I look up and see Amon, the head librarian, poking his head out of his office. “I’ve just received a message from one of your mentors.” He takes a scrap of paper from the sprite sitting on his shoulder and looks at it. “You are to assemble in lesson room four after you’ve handed in your written projects. Someone will be talking to you about your final assignments.”

  Honey wiggles her eyebrows at me and grins. “Ooh, our final assignments. Exciting! Everyone’s been talking about who they’re going to be paired with and where they’ll be sent.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure they have.” And I’ve been trying not to think about how a disastrous pairing could ruin my already slim chance of graduating at the top of my class.

  “Oh, Tina wants to talk to me,” Honey says, examining her amber once more. “I’ll see you downstairs.” She grabs her bag from under the table and heads out to wherever her mentor is.

  I raise my eyes to the enchanted sundial on the wall over the library door. Two hours left.

  I skim through pages and scribble down important facts in what I hope are coherent sentences. Hushed voices and the occasional ripple of laughter fade into the background of my thoughts. Right now it’s just me and the mundane facts of kelpies and their hair. Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t do this project when I was calm—I probably would have fallen asleep. I reach the required length of the report, sit back, and read through the whole thing, making use of the vanish and replace spell far more than I usually have to.