Indebted to Faerie (Stolen Magic Book 6)

by WB McKay

  I wasn't talented by any means, but I could follow his lead. I raked the crowd around us with my most withering glare and the quiet murmur of the party returned. I wasn't sure how a butterfly glared, but somehow it must have translated. They resumed dancing, only making surreptitious glances at what they believed to be the most powerful couple in Faerie.

  When I looked back at Aengus, I could tell his eyes were squinted through the holes in his mask. He made a show of sniffing the air. "You smell… different." He leaned forward and sniffed again. "Close, but not quite right." His jaw went rigid and his hand squeezed mine painfully. "Who are you?"

  "No, I smell just like I always do," I said, squeezing his hand tighter to bring mine some relief. "I smell exactly how a Sophie Morrigan should."

  Just as Aengus was about to respond, a man brushed past us, causing me to stumble into Aengus's chest. Both of our faces whipped toward the clumsy jerk. I could just catch a glimpse of his scowl out of the corner of my eye.

  The clumsy man wore a well tailored suit, and even from the back of his head, I could see he wasn't wearing a mask. There was no way one of the people working the event would barge through the dance floor and jostle guests without apologizing. So, who could he be, and how long would it take before someone ripped him to pieces?

  Aengus and I both watched him weave through the crowd, his agility greatly improved after plowing into us. Our dance was forgotten. We simply stood there, his hands on my hips, waiting to see the face of our newest enemy.

  When he finally turned, he was standing next to another large jungle cat. This one appeared to be a tiger with tawny fur striped in various shades of green. Long bits of hair stuck up from his ears, the tips lit with glowing green light.

  I noticed all this with my peripheral vision because all my gaze could truly focus on were a set of undeniably familiar orange eyelids belonging to the clumsy man in the nice suit.

  "I hate that guy," Aengus and I said in unison.

  Aengus chuckled. "That's my daughter."

  I scanned the party surrounding Paulo, who I'd dubbed Orange Eyelids, trying to figure out who would be his daughter. It was hard to tell anything in the sea of animal costumes. Aengus couldn't be referring to the tiger. That had to be Erik Bresnan, also known—by me, anyway—as Mr. Supervillain. Paulo had been a lackey of his. Though what Erik Bresnan was doing at a ball for powerful fae in Faerie, I had no idea. He was supposed to be off somewhere licking his wounds and hanging his head in shame at being kicked of the fae council by yours truly. "I doubt that's your daughter," I finally told Aengus, my eyes back on the tiger. "If you mean the tiger on stage, anyway. I believe that's Erik Bresnan."

  When he didn't respond, I turned back to Aengus and found him looking at me with what could only be described as adoration. If he were a cartoon, there would have been little hearts floating away from his head. "No," I said, shaking my head violently and taking a giant step away. "There's no fucking way."

  Aengus' features scrunched up in confusion, though his eyes lost none of their intensity. "I'm confused," he admitted.

  I pulled myself out of his grip so I could take two more steps backward. I needed air. "I agree," I finally said. "I definitely agree. You are confused." He just looked at me, even more confused. "Why are you looking at me like that?" I shook my head some more. I knew what he was saying. In a sick, twisted way, it made so much sense. The Morrigan sent me after him. This was as much sense as The Morrigan ever made. But, no. I continued shaking my head. "Who did you mean? Who is your daughter?" I asked, pointing just above the head of the monochrome lion he'd turned back into. I figured that was the vicinity of his chest. "And I need you to be very specific here, that way there can be no confusion."

  Aengus, finally getting it, I assumed, began shaking his head in sync with me. "I wish I was able to say that I am surprised your mother wouldn't tell you that I'm your father, but that would be a lie."

  "So, you're saying that you, Aengus, the guy who…" My mouth slammed shut before I said "the guy who The Morrigan sent me to ruin". That could have been a sign I was getting smarter, but it felt like the Fleece had moved my jaw. A concern for another time. "You are my father?" My mind reeled, not wanting to accept it. Having one famous parent was too much. Having two of the most powerful fae was ridiculous. A giggle bubbled out of me.

  I have a father.

  The thought killed my laughter. This was… I didn't know what this was.

  Despite everything I was feeling, Aengus nodded and placed a hand gently on my shoulder so I could see his true form again. "You, Sophie Morrigan, are my daughter." He looked me over, his features sliding back to an easy smile, then twisting into rage. "And those are MY SWORDS!" He pointed to Epic over my shoulder and Haiku on my hip. "She stole my favorite swords!"

  And just like that, all the puzzle pieces slid into place. I looked at Aengus's jaw, which I had recognized, but couldn't place. That was my jaw. I wore his swords. I'd seen the place in his armory where they were supposed to go. The handles on the spears next to that spot had been curiously similar to those on my own weapons. That was because my mother had stolen them—from my father.

  I looked over his features one last time. As unreal as it felt, I couldn't deny it. Aengus was… my father.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  I'm not ashamed to say I walked away. It was just too much. Aengus was my father and my mother was using me to destroy his power base. Of the torrent of emotions I was sorting through just then, the primary one was embarrassment. Of course she'd done this. Of course she'd done all of this.

  The whisper of the crowd followed me. After a moment I realized that Aengus was too. "Leave me alone," I called over my shoulder.

  A crowd of giant fireflies parted so I could storm through them. Whether they were guests, or an illusion for the party, I had no idea.

  Eventually, I made it to a quiet alcove where I could think. I wanted nothing more than to leave this stupid ball, but I couldn't. Not really. I still owed The Morrigan. The people here were still held captive by a dangerous magical object, and I had the skills necessary to help them. If I left now, all I'd be doing is wasting all the work I'd already done. I had to get that mask. I had to ignore the whole daddy reveal and do my job.

  Annoyingly, my brain wasn't ready for that yet. Why couldn't emotions just listen to reason for once? My fingers scrubbed at my face, as if they could wipe away the images flying through my mind.

  Graulfv being eaten by the swarm of butterflies—but they hadn't bothered me. I hadn't spent two seconds putting thought into why, but now the warning sign flashed before me. It had said anyone that didn't belong there would be eaten. That meant he'd somehow keyed his security measures to accept me into his palace. That shouldn't have been hard… he'd keyed it to his bloodline.

  This shouldn't have been happening. Not now. There'd been a time when I'd been curious, sure. Even a year ago, I would have still been curious. But now I'd gotten to know The Morrigan. Now I knew better. Biological parenthood did not hold feelings of wonder and delight—not for me. I had Belinda. She was all the parent I needed; I was done with any interest I might have had in my biology.

  My disinterest in that connection had done nothing to stop The Morrigan from wielding influence over my life. To say I felt dread at the idea of a connection between myself and another biological parent was putting it mildly.

  Nausea threatened to take me down. I shouldn't have spent that time checking out the finger foods.

  "Get it together, Sophie," I scolded myself.

  For the first time, I noticed my surroundings. It was surprisingly quiet; a medium size room off the main ballroom. There were a couple dozen small indentations along the walls, the perfect size for two people to step into comfortably and not be seen by anyone. There was a small couch against the back wall.

  I just had time to wonder what these small spaces were for when the first sounds of passion drifted to my ears. "Seriously? I ran away to a sex room?" I took a
second look at the entrance to the room. "There isn't even a door!" I was suddenly glad I hadn't chosen to sit on the couch.

  An involuntary chuckle escaped my throat. That little distraction had been exactly what I needed to clear my head. It was time to get back to work.

  Wait, no. I needed a plan. With Aengus out there, and the Fleece in my head, I had too many distractions to just go out there hoping my gut would lead me true. I already had somewhat of a plan, but I needed more details. "Okay, okay. I need to get him alone." There, that was simple enough. Now, how do I do that… The Fleece started trying to speak up, but I shoved it away. Tiberius is such a moron. He keeps that mask on purpose. I bet he'd just love to have something like the Fleece. "Oh. Duh. That's it."

  I promptly stood and picked pieces of the Fleece off my dress. "Time to put yourself back together." I swear, I felt the thing sigh in exasperation, but it did as it was told and reformed into a crown. It fit awkwardly with my costume, but that was all the better to make it stand out.

  I was pleased enough that my wall slipped and the Fleece quickly made its own suggestions. I can make him hand you the mask, it thought. We could make him go somewhere private, or we could make him hand it over in a ceremony in front of the entire ball. I've seen his mind, it would be easy.

  "You've seen his mind? When the hell did you do that?" I put my hands on my hips. "Oh, now you're quiet, eh?"

  I heard some strange noises from somewhere else in the room, and remembered to keep my voice down. "It doesn't matter," I said. "Even if you weren't an evil mind controlling object of death and danger that I'm trying to keep out of my head, it wouldn't matter. It's too dangerous to use your magic to call to him directly in a room full of so many powerful fae." I was already drawing way too much attention. I would be a target in Faerie after this night, of that I was sure. It didn't help matters that all of my willpower, typically used to keep my magic in check, was being used to hold off the Fleece as well. If I truly let it go, I'd likely also be letting go of my fear magic, and possibly have death lights hovering excitedly over my palms. Not low profile at all.

  "This will work," I said. "Stay out of it."

  I slammed up a mental wall before I heard the Fleece's thoughts, but I got the gist of it. I was hardly keeping the Fleece out of it by using it as bait. I didn't have time for arguing with a hunk of metal like this, so I let it have the last word even though it grated.

  Our relationship was becoming more complicated and uncomfortable by the minute. I was so sick of the thing, I'd have to try tossing it in the sea of lava on my way out. Once I figured out a safe way out.

  Oh, the problems of my life.

  Careful to keep my eyes forward so I didn't see anything I shouldn't, I walked back to the main ballroom. Monkeys, dogs, and other exuberant animals covered the dance floor, but those closest to the stage had stopped their dancing.

  "...rightful place on Earth, it is past due."

  I froze in place, dumbstruck. "No." I breathed the word. The shock mixed with rage. How could I even be surprised? I'd thought what—that Erik Bresnan would go into obscurity, never to be heard from again?

  "...conquer… humans… Faerie… rule…"

  His words whizzed by me. I only picked up every fifth one, but it was enough. He was giving a speech to powerful fae about how they should take over Earth.

  He'd exposed the werewolves to the humans. I'd always wanted to know more about his end game. I still didn't understand it. He wanted to rule the humans? Even if I got past how wrong that was, morally, I couldn't understand what that even got him. Why couldn't he just be happy how he was? Why did he have to be such a pain in the ass?

  I recover dangerous magical objects for a living, I thought angrily. I am here to repay a mistake of a favor. This is firmly not my circus, not my monkeys. But even just in my own head, the words felt forced, ringing of nothing but lies. This shouldn't have been my circus or my monkeys. But… could I just let this happen? And there it was. If this happened, it was because I let it. I had the power to stop this.

  Stop overreacting. He was giving a speech. And yeah, sure, a few heads were bobbing, but it wasn't like it was necessarily getting him anywhere. This wasn't happening immediately.

  "I will get this done," I promised myself, "and then I'll deal with Erik, and the Fleece." Easy peasy. The wall between the Fleece and myself was still holding, but I could feel it laughing at me.

  The music had turned up in volume and tempo, drowning Erik Bresnan out. I hoped that was intentional.

  King Tiberius had left his dais and was milling through the crowd, surrounded by his group of guards. It wasn't hard to keep an eye on him; the crowd of human forms stuck out like a sore thumb. I angled my approach to put me slightly in front of the path of the king's procession. He walked at a stately pace, occasionally parting the wall of his guards to speak with one of his guests. Nobody approached him on their own. That might be a problem.

  I scanned the area for the best position and my eyes skimmed past the dark form of a lion with a white mane. Aengus wasn't being subtle about the fact he was watching me. Whatever. At least he wasn't getting in my way. And then I remembered my thoughts before I'd accepted the dance. Perhaps Aengus could prove to be an asset.

  As the group approached, I positioned myself between the king and Aengus. The king couldn't pass this way without stopping to say something to his close ally. I milled in place and tried not to think too much about how my father was complicit in the disgusting slavery that was taking place in Derinia.

  The first of the guards brushed past me. I had to fight the urge to call out to Tiberius. If I wanted to be noticed, I needed to radiate strength and importance. I did my best to hold myself the way I felt when I was drawing on the authority of the Fleece. The Fleece liked that.

  "You there. Miss?" Tiberius pushed past two guards. "Do I know you? You look familiar."

  For a moment I wondered how he had seen through my costume, but he was the king and this was his event. He wouldn't want to walk around blind any more than he would want to be anonymous.

  As for his words, he was probably thinking of my mother. Either that or he was reading directly from the book of crappy pickup lines. "We haven't had the pleasure," I replied. I didn't say more because I wasn't sure how to say anything pleasant without lying.

  He smiled at the lack of additional detail. He thought I was playing the traditional fae game of half truths and outright trickery. Tonight, I guessed that was true. "King Tiberius," he said, holding a hand to the black armor at his chest, then holding it out palm up. "A pleasure to meet you…"

  Because I couldn't think of a tactful way to snub him and still get what I wanted, I put my hand in his. "Sophie Morrigan."

  There was the slightest hint of surprise, mostly hidden by his mask, before he raised my hand to his lips. Though the mask had an opening for his mouth and eyes, his lips couldn't actually reach my hand, but he mimicked the gesture. I suppressed a shudder. "Your reputation precedes you, Ms. Morrigan." Rather than roaming my body, or meeting mine, his gaze focused on the Fleece. His focus was absolute. I knew that look.

  "The Fleece has given me a lot of power, but it's nothing compared to what you've built here." Because I wouldn't let it be. "I'm still learning how to wield it."

  His gaze flicked down to my eyes and then back up to the Fleece. "It is a very powerful item." He closed his eyes and rolled his neck, struggling to keep it together. "Magic so powerful should be utilized to its fullest potential."

  "With all you've accomplished, I'm sure you have some ideas as to how to do that." The words were noncommittal, but I put them in my most flattering tone. "I'd love to get you alone. It would be an opportunity to really talk." And steal your mask. Maybe inflict some violence. "Do you have a moment now?"

  His smile bared his teeth and made the demonic look of the mask even more perverse. "Give me a few moments to finish my circuit of the ballroom. I can't be seen as snubbing my more powerful guests. Then I'
ll meet you in the privacy alcove over there." He pointed to the sex room.

  "Privacy alcove." I nodded. "Yes, I'll see you there shortly."

  I glanced back to find him leaning forward, like he was struggling to stay put but desperately wanted to come after me—or more precisely, the Fleece. I doubt any dragon had ever been as drunk on covetousness as he was.

  This was going to work. Now I just had to alert Graulfv to initiate his part of the plan.

  The trip back to the entrance of the ballroom was quick and painless. The majority of the crowd had lined themselves up in front of the king like I had, leaving the way clear. I watched for a couple of minutes to get a sense for how much time I needed, then ducked back into the foyer.

  The same dragon attendant was there, giving me the stink eye. I shot one right back at him and walked toward the servant's party door. He cut me off with several quick strides.

  The Fleece pushed at me, and I rolled my head over my shoulders to alleviate the stress. It wanted me to let loose just a smidge of its influence on this guy. It wouldn't take much, and it would save so much time. It would be so easy.

  "This area is meant for servants and guards, madame." He looked down his nose at me, clearly indicating he thought it was where I belonged. "You will be more comfortable if you turn back the way you came."

  You don't earn any points for playing these games, the Fleece argued—or maybe that was me. The more I felt the Fleece had a point, the more difficult it was to tell whose words were passing through my mind. Wherever the thought came from, it made sense. I was making everything more difficult… why? It wasn't like this guy appreciated how much I was struggling to just let him make his own asshole choices. Still, I responded—patiently, at that. "I understand it's your job to keep drunken guests from accidentally wandering in with the rabble and vice versa." I fixed him with a glare. "I'm sober and aware of what I'm doing. I need to speak with my man." I held my arm out stiffly in front of me, coming within a few inches of his chest, and started to walk forward. "Now, leave me alone."