“Where was it last year?” I heard nothing about it. The last Hunt I attended was in Turkey, years ago.
“Germany.”
“What can we do to help?”
Belle avoids my eyes, busying herself with straightening her books. “Nothing. I already know where it’s going to be.”
Dread brings the hair on the back of my neck to attention. “Where?”
“England.”
Roaring fills my ears and my breath hitches.
Looks like I’m going home.
From the Dim Necropolis
I leap from the chair, pacing back and forth in the aisle. “Where in England?” I’m proud my voice doesn’t shake.
“North Yorkshire. The Rochesters have agreed to host us.”
My chest tightens. My old home. More names from my past. Jane and I were close — almost as close as Belle and I were. My kids used to play with Adele, and Fitz and Rochester got along really well. Fitz was always so fascinated by the Fae. He loved novels and stories so much, meeting his favorite characters was like me meeting The Beatles. George was surprisingly sweet.
“Wonderful. Maybe I should stay here and keep an eye on the Library.”
Belle shakes her head. “Red is going to remain. I tried to contact Hook and Ariel to meet us there, but they have a new lead on Pan. If it turns out to be nothing, they’ll join us. I’ll have Jackie fly in from Spain.”
“Aren’t there plenty of Librarians in England who can take care of this?” I have responsibilities here. No.
“There are a few available, but we’re stretched rather thin. The world has gotten bigger and over half of our population is in Basque Country. And I never miss a Hunt.” She feels it’s her responsibility as a leader to witness each one. And I think she’s waiting for someone.
“Who else is going to help us?” Hatter asks.
“Anne Eliot and Elinor Dashwood live near the Rochesters, so they’re on call in case we need them. And Miss Muffet is coming down from London.”
My jealousy roars back to life as I remember the conversation Hatter and I never finished. “I thought she was helping Marguerite in the US.” I keep my attention trained on Belle, not allowing myself to see Hatter’s expression.
“She was, but she’s back in London for a couple months. She’s got a lot of experience with Hunts.”
Every part of me wants to run. I can’t go back there. “It sounds like there are plenty of people to help you. You sure you need me?”
“Yes.”
Catching the way Hatter frowns at me, I shut my mouth and stop protesting. I never really faced my past, I just ran away and pretended it was the same thing.
But I just started moving on. I don’t think I’m ready to go back home where my ghosts live, waiting for me.
“When do we leave?” Hatter asks.
Belle stands, her stack of books clutched to her chest. “I want to fly out tomorrow morning. I already bought the tickets.”
I rake a hand through my hair, idly thinking I need to have it cut. “Dammit Belle. Hatter and I both do have businesses to run.”
“I thought this is why you hired your mate, Frankie?” Hatter asks.
I splutter. “It’s still short notice for her. She has a life.”
He smiles wide, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Sure you aren’t just trying to worm your way out of the mission, love?”
I cross my arms as panic tightens my chest. I shouldn’t be reacting this strongly; I’m supposed to be past all this. I thought I let go. “I’ve quite obviously tried to get out of this. Apparently, I don’t have a choice.”
Belle touches my arm, understanding on her face. “Of course you have a choice if you really don’t want to or can’t, accompany us. You have the choice, Bo.”
I hug myself tighter. “I know. And I’ll come. I just…I haven’t been back in a long time.”
“I know.” She repeats my words back to me. “But you have to eventually.”
“I guess.” England was the last place I heard the laughter of my children. Of my grandchildren. The last place I held them. Smelled them.
The last place I kissed Fitz.
How am I going to face it?
I blow out a breath. “I guess I should head out, call Frankie, and start packing.”
Belle nods, back to her usual businesslike self. “Meet here in the morning at five.”
“Coming?” I ask Hatter.
He shakes his head. “I’m going to head to the club and get my affairs in order. I’ll call you later.”
I frown at his dismissive tone and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. Is he worried about returning to England? I jog up the steps and back out to the street, deciding to walk instead of catching a cab. I could use the few minutes to myself.
Hatter doesn’t seem to want to return to England either. He may not have protested as much as I did, but he wasn’t thrilled about it. Maybe everything with Alice is too fresh for him?
I needed thirty years away and it’s still too fresh for me.
Belle came back here to France after what happened to her. She faced her demons and won. Maybe it is time I do the same.
I just don’t know if I can.
Like Wings the Sound Over Woods Was Borne
I don’t hear from or see Hatter until I arrive at the airport with Belle. He yanks me into a hug when he runs up to our gate, out of breath with his green bow-tie askew.
“Sorry. It took longer than I expected to find good help.”
I pull back a little with a frown. “Why didn’t you call me or answer my texts?”
“We had a small emergency and I spent twelve hours dealing with it before passing out. Sorry, love.”
My frown deepens, wanting more information, but Belle bustles us down the tarmac. “Come on. You can discuss this on the plane.”
“We’re late. We’re late. For a very important date,” Hatter chants, a spring in his step as he draws my arm through his.
I shake my head. I will never understand this man. Which is half the fun. Nowhere is the brooding Hatter from yesterday — he has his mad mask back on. The one he doesn’t usually use around me.
Never a good sign.
It’s going to be a long flight.
Hatter and I are seated across the aisle from Belle. Half of me yearns to ask Belle to change spots, but I bite my lip instead.
He starts up a conversation with an elderly woman by the window, ignoring me, so I lean back and close my eyes. I didn’t sleep well last night, twisted nightmares plaguing me. Something I haven’t struggled with in weeks.
Is Hatter pissed at me because I don’t want to return to England, or is something else bothering him? I want to ask, but I’m not sure if I’m ready for that conversation.
I’m a bloody coward.
He grins over at me, a normal one, and a little of the tension in my stomach releases. Maybe it’s just my imagination or has nothing to do with me. Not everything is about me.
I send him a tentative smile back with the questions I refuse to ask stamped across my face. He reaches over and threads our fingers together, sending the rest of my worries wisping away. I curl up against him, warmth spreading through me when he kisses my forehead.
We’re fine. He’s fine.
I, on the other hand, am not so fine.
In Terror the Dwarf Dug Deeper
London is a whole new place. It looks completely different, which is actually worse. It reinforces how my family really is gone. There’s nothing left of them here.
Hatter snakes his arm around my waist and draws me into him as Belle bustles us to the train station. There’s an edge of desperation about her, like she hasn’t told us something.
I’m too exhausted to push her on it.
I sleep through the train ride, waking when it screeches to a final halt at the Malton Railway Station and Hatter kisses me awake. A smile spreads across my lips until I catch sight of the familiar town outside the window.
Fitz and
I lived near here for years after I took leave from the FTA to raise our family. We lived in the park before it was a park.. Progress has been slower here than in London. Everything looks the same.
Jane Rochester paces back and forth outside the station. It’s good to see her. I hurry over to her with a grin. Her gun digs into my stomach when she hugs me.
“Where’s Rochester?” I pull back and drink her in. Pale skin, dark hair, vibrant green eyes. Still as lovely as ever.
“You know he doesn’t like to leave the estate unless he has to. He’s shut himself in his office beneath his pile of books.” She turns to Belle. “I’m sure you’re anxious to join him.”
Belle dimples. “I am. Has anyone else arrived yet?”
“Jackie arrived a couple hours ago. Anne and Elinor will be there for dinner and I expect Miss Muffet tomorrow. She’s been held up.” Jane leads us over to a black SUV and we hop inside.
She and Rochester usually work for the FTA as Researchers. Every now and again, Belle calls them in for a mission, but Rochester doesn’t like to leave his home. He’s a bit of a hermit since he came to life, not liking the fast moving world, longing for the Victorian days from his book even though he’s never lived during Victorian times. He and Jane came to life in the 1920s.
Jane has rolled with it, but she doesn’t like being away from Rochester for very long. The longest she left him is when we were in the SOE together. They’re one of the few fictional relationships that’s lasted, and they’re still as in love as they were in the book. It’s sickeningly sweet.
I stare out the window as Jane drives us through the town and out onto the foggy moors. The pit in my stomach returns, coiling tight, making it difficult to breathe.
My children ran over these hills. They ran through heather and daffodils, their laughter sounding for miles.
This is harder than the hell I expected it to be.
Hatter’s grip on me tightens, like he wants to force comfort into me. It works a little.
Jane pulls up to their home. It’s nothing like Thornfield Hall. It doesn’t have the haunted image the book always brings to mind, and it isn’t as lavish. It’s still beautiful, set on a gorgeous estate.
The echoes of my children’s laughter carries over the hills. I catch a glimpse of Fitz out of the corner of my eye as I hop from the vehicle.
It’s going to be a long week.
While Overhead a Mad Hunting-Horn
The Rochesters have a lavish dinner every night like something straight out of their book. It’s rather delightful, and something I’ve missed. Fitz and I used to attend every week.
Hatter escorts me downstairs looking way too hot in a silver suit and deep purple vest and, of course, his periwinkle shoes. I considered wearing my new replacement middle finger dress Hatter bought me, but decided against it.
Instead, I chose the one with the solar system stamped across navy blue fabric.
Jane grins wide with delight when we enter the dining room. “You two are glorious. It’s a wonder you didn’t find each other earlier. I’d forgotten how you love whimsical clothing.”
I grin back at her. “When you first woke, it terrified you.”
She laughs. “You were always awfully colorful.”
“It’s nice to see you still out of your Quaker grey.” I pluck the skirt of her emerald green dress.
“You forced me out of it. Something Edward is eternally grateful for.”
“That I am.” Rochester sweeps into the room and over to his wife. He embraces her like it’s been days since they’ve seen each other instead of five minutes. It’s adorable. And a little hot. Jane’s face reddens from whatever Rochester is saying into her mind. Rochester has the power to speak mind to mind. From any distance.
He comes over to me next, pulling me into a strong hug. It is wonderful to see you, my dear friend. The words flare through me in his deep voice.
“You too.” I return the embrace happily. It keeps hitting me, the friendships I left behind. What I sacrificed in my grief.
Belle was right. As hard as it is, it was time for me to return, to face my past.
The doorbell rings and moments later, Anne and Elinor enter, their slender frames wrapped in glittering gowns, like they’re headed to the opera.
I don’t know them as well as the Rochesters, and last time I saw them they weren’t a couple. They work as sort of recruiters for the FTA, and do a lot of traveling. They keep tabs on new Fae, helping them adjust to the strange world they wake up in, making sure they stay out of trouble, bringing them into the FTA when they’re ready to join. It used to be Hatter’s job before he became a Librarian.
They’re radiant and happy, no need of the handsome and dashing men Austen tried to pair them up with. Wentworth and Ed are great and have both found love and are helping prepare Camelot. It’s a much better happily ever after than Elizabeth and Darcy got.
Hatter has been filling me in on all the gossip I’ve missed over the years. I only had bits and pieces, mainly from Mother Goose, the only tale I kept in contact with.
Belle is pulled into a three-way hug with Anne and Elinor. They replaced the sisters who treated Belle so horribly even once they woke and had free will outside of their author’s influence. Everyone from Belle’s story is horrible. It’s no wonder she can be so cold and still prefers the company of books.
I swallow guilt along with my sip of wine. If I hadn’t been so selfish in my grief, she wouldn’t have been alone for so long. At least she had these women.
After the greetings are over, we sit and Jane rings a bell. A few minor Fae march in bearing trays. They’re Fae without real stories, filler characters usually the servants, monsters, and such. They’re rather sad, no arc, no real personalities. It’s rare for them to even come to life — usually only those from the most popular stories do. A lot of the major Fae take them in and give them jobs, but most have fled to Basque Country, hoping Arthur’s return will bring something better for them.
It’s all our hope, that it will change things for Fae. We’ve waited for him over two hundred years. He and Gwen are the most assassinated Fae in history. Other kings and queens of fiction have no interest in bowing the knee to Arthur, so they send assassins after him. But this time, a large portion of Faery is determined to do things differently. Camelot will be waiting for him when he returns. Ready for his rule.
It’s a nice thought, but assassins will still come after him. And if they fail, a Fae civil war could be next.
The Rochesters have set up a feast in our honor. Beef Wellington, asparagus, mashed potatoes and lots and lots of wine. It’s nice to be cooked for, for once. Hatter puts out a glorious high tea, but isn’t great at staying focused enough to keep from burning a meal, which is rather adorable.
I’m seated between him and Jane and she peppers us with questions, curious to know what I’ve been up to, how we ended up together, wanting every detail of our battle against Pan.
I finally answer enough questions to give me enough time to slip in a question of my own. “Enough about me. What have you and Rochester been up to?”
“Mainly research. We did travel to Paris a few years ago to see Adele.” Longing coats her voice, and her features strain.
“How is she doing?” Adele has struggled hard with being trapped so young. When they first arrived, she was fine. But as my children aged, she remained trapped.
“She’s better, I believe. Cinderella has helped her get involved with others in her situation. That’s been a wonderful blessing. We haven’t heard from her in a few months. You know how time passes for us.”
I nod. “I do. Fast and slow all at the same time.”
“She was talking about Camelot. Most of the children think they’ll find a place to belong there.”
A place to belong. Something we’re all searching for, Fae and human alike. Is there such a place? Or a person? Or is it something we have to make for ourselves?
Hatter frowns in thought. “Soon, Basque Countr
y is going to be overrun. Can it handle so many? I’m worried the governments will start getting involved if so many of us gather in one place.”
Rochester answers. “Yes, it’s a real worry. With the madness the United States has been pulling, more and more are fleeing there. Basque Country isn’t that large and is already populated with a fair amount of humans. We may well end up at war.” His words echo my thoughts so closely it sends a trickle of fear down my spine.
“They should just let us have it. It’s not our fault we were born into the world.” Jackie scowls and stabs a piece of her meat. I smile at her in understanding. She wants Arthur back more than anyone, her loyalty to him absolute.
Rochester fingers the stem of his wine glass. “That many Fae in one place is certain to make them nervous. We hold great power. Humans fear and crave power. Without Belle’s gift for politics, we would be in trouble already.”
Belle shrugs off the compliment, her lips spread in a wry smile. “I’m horrible at politics. And they bore me. It’s why I leave it to the Premiers or delegate to Fae like Dracula. He does most of it for me.”
Jane smiles. “You still gave him the position.”
“His reputation and power don’t hurt either,” Hatter adds.
“It didn’t help in the US.” Elinor grimaces.
Dracula is impressive, and has acted as a buffer for a long time, but the US got tired of listening to a blood sucker. Even though he doesn’t actually live off of blood.
The island we fought Pan on pops into my head. “What about the island? Maybe Pan and Alice had a point, even though the way they went about it was heinous. It’s a place only Fae can find. It would make a safe haven.”
Rochester purses his lips in thought. “It would make a good plan B. But is it large enough to hold everyone?”
“No, but there may be more places. We’re all registered in every country. It’s the one thing that brought the humans across the planet together. Making sure they know who is Fae and what we can do. How often have they used us for their wars? Maybe it’s time we showed them we won’t be loaded up into trucks and locked into camps if we don’t do what they want. Maybe it’s time to stop playing nice and let them try.” Jackie’s face flushes with frustration and rage. What is going on with her? When did she become a human hater?
Black Sheep of Faery: Books 1-2 Page 11
