Warrior Fae Princess

by Breene, K. F.

  A tired and drawn woman looked up from a worn desk in the middle of a large, run-down space. Her gaze took in all the people suddenly entering the hush, and a spark of recognition lit her eyes.

  “Yes, Miss Charity Arcana?” The employee glanced between the women of the group.

  “Me. I’m Charity.” The group opened up a little so Charity could reach the desk.

  The woman nodded and ducked down, seeming to grab something from under the desktop.

  “Goodness.” An older woman entered from a hall on the right, her gray eyebrows winging up and a delighted smile on her face. “What’s all this?”

  “They’re here to visit the Taylor plot.” The woman straightened up with a beige envelope on which Charity’s name was written in delicate, easily recognizable scroll.

  “Plot?” Charity said, heat pricking the back of her eyes.

  “Yup. Head back out the front door, hang a right around the building, and go through the fence.” The woman used two thin fingers to point. “We’ve agreed to keep the grounds unlocked until nine.”

  “But plot… That’s a grave, right?” Her legs didn’t seem to want to move. Tears overflowed from her eyes.

  “It’s okay,” Devon said, one arm around her waist. “It’s going to be okay.”

  As they made their way to the cemetery, Charity caught sight of Macy. The shifter’s eyes were haunted. She’d just been through this with Dillon, visiting a plot they’d selected so that people would have somewhere to mourn…

  The rickety old gate stood open, rusty and tangled with weeds and dying plants. A sob ripped from Charity’s throat when she saw the rows of neglected headstones beyond it. She clung to Devon as they walked through the gate, certainty pounding through her. Part of her had hoped her mother was living her best life somewhere. But Charity was too late; her mother wasn’t living at all. Charity wouldn’t get to speak to her again. She’d never get to hug her, or slap her. She’d never need to work up the courage to ask why she’d left.

  Charity hadn’t gotten to say goodbye.

  “No,” she said softly, tears drenching her cheeks. “It can’t be. She would’ve at least reached out to tell me she was…sick. Maybe she’s a groundskeeper, or…”

  In another moment, though, they found the stone. The words weren’t etched very deeply, but there could be no doubt.

  Here lies Patty Taylor.

  Tears obscured Charity’s vision, washing away the dates. Washing away her remaining strength.

  She sagged, but Devon held her tightly to his chest, and her father held her hand. His head was bowed. He was mourning, too.

  “Here, let’s…” Macy wove through everyone. She plucked the envelope off the ground, it having fallen from Charity’s suddenly lifeless fingers. “Let’s just read…”

  Two pages came out, a faded white piece of paper against the familiar beige of Vlad’s stationery. Macy gently pulled them apart, her eyes moving quickly from side to side over the message on the beige sheet. In another moment, she handed the faded white paper forward, her eyes rooting to Charity’s.

  “Vlad rescued some of your mother’s things from this place’s basement.” Macy’s tone said her heart was breaking for Charity. “He will meet you back at the car with them if you call off the…shifters.”

  He’d probably called them “dogs,” knowing Vlad.

  “I can keep her safe,” Reagan said, probably to Roger. “Vlad knows I can kill him, but that I won’t if he plays nice.”

  “I can protect myself from Vlad.” Charity hiccupped a sob. “I can burn him with sunlight and then blow him up.”

  “I’m starting to really like her,” Reagan murmured to someone. “Think she’d want to do some bounty hunter gigs with us?”

  Charity tuned them out, pushing away from Devon so she could take the paper. She recognized her mother’s handwriting immediately, though it wasn’t as delicate as she remembered. She wiped away tears with the back of her hand so she could read what it said.

  Dear Charity,

  Please forgive me. Though I don’t know how you could. What monster leaves her darling girl without saying goodbye? I just didn’t know any other way.

  The doctor said the tumor was terminal and I would need looking after. I couldn’t let that burden fall to you. Please understand. I would’ve killed your dreams. I left so that you could continue on. You’re a survivor—this was the best way, I know it in my heart. It’s the least I could do for the half-life I have forced upon you.

  I do not have the money to send for you—charity pays for my lodging here—but even if I did, I don’t think you’d make it in time. I am at the end of my tolerance for this sickness. I don’t have the strength or the will for much more. So I write this note to beg forgiveness. To explain.

  I have missed you every waking moment of this past year. I’ve thought about you every instant. I miss your laugh, and your smile. I miss our time together. I so wish I could’ve said goodbye to you. That I could’ve seen the woman you will grow to be.

  I hope you are following your dreams. I hope your life is filled with laughter and love. I want you to know that I love you so, so much. You are the best thing that has ever happened in my life, and I am so very proud of what you have already become.

  Charity shook her head. Her hands shook so hard that she could barely read the words. “She didn’t sign it.”

  “She must’ve died before she could finish it,” her father said, tears shining in his eyes. “She might’ve made a mistake in your eyes, Charity, but it is clear she left with you in mind. She did it to save you. Had I not left—”

  “Don’t,” Devon cut in, instantly silencing Romulus. “This isn’t time for guilt or the blame game. Her mother was trying to do right by Charity in the only way she knew how. Let Charity grieve.”

  Charity let Devon gather her up tightly, crying so hard that she could barely breathe. How could her mom do that? How could she leave, thinking Charity would be better off not knowing where she’d gone? How could she choose to die alone when she had family who would give anything to be with her?

  But she’d said why, hadn’t she?

  You’re a survivor…

  Her mother had done what Devon had tried to do. She had sacrificed her own happiness so that Charity could chase her dreams. And Charity had done exactly what her mother had hoped. She had created the kind of life her mother would’ve wanted for her. Her mother would’ve been proud—and happy to sacrifice herself for Charity’s happiness.

  Why did that hurt so much more?

  “I would’ve followed her, just like I followed you,” Charity admitted, crying into Devon’s shirt. “She knew that about me.”

  “She loved you very much,” Devon murmured, rocking her. “She didn’t abandon you. She didn’t want to leave. She felt she had to.”

  “But she didn’t.” Charity fisted Devon’s shirt in her hands. “She didn’t have to.”

  Devon didn’t argue, just rocked her slowly. She cried until she didn’t have any tears left, then she hugged her dad and found a few more to squeeze out. Finally, after the sun was gone and the stars had made bright holes in the dark sky, Charity stilled and dried her face. She wasn’t done being sad, but she was done making a show of it.

  “Let’s go see Vlad,” she said, threading her fingers through Devon’s.

  Roger had cleared all his shifters away, giving her a large perimeter for her grief. For all their focus on propriety, the fae didn’t understand personal space, and crowded around her as she led the way out of the grounds and to the vehicles beyond.

  “We will mourn her together,” Halvor said, walking directly behind Charity. Murmurs of assent sounded around them.

  “And we’ll get really fucking drunk while we do,” Andy said.

  “Charity doesn’t drink, you dick,” Rod said.

  “Shut up,” Macy added.

  “He is there.” Cole’s words, uttered like a sudden crack of thunder, made Charity jump.

 
“Fall back,” Roger said.

  Devon nodded to Steve at his right and glanced at the rest of his pack. Dale had requested a transfer shortly after they’d returned to the Brink, but Steve, Cole, and Barbara had chosen to stay. They followed his silent command and drifted back with Roger.

  Vlad waited where he said he’d be, holding a beat-up box and sporting an expression of compassion.

  “I am sorry for your loss,” he said as Charity neared.

  Reagan and the mages split off to the side without a word. Vlad didn’t spare them any notice. He only had eyes for Romulus and Charity, standing in front of the other warrior fae, battle ready.

  Vlad held out the box. “I secured this for you. I thought you’d want to have it.”

  Romulus stepped forward to take it. He didn’t flinch from the elder vampire or seem worried in any way.

  Charity glanced into the box as her dad handed it back to her. A few items of clothing Charity didn’t recognize, a beat-up sun hat, and some other effects her mom had left behind. The box wasn’t even half-full.

  Charity’s heart hurt. She just wanted to go home.

  “Thank you, Vlad,” she said, and meant it. “Thank you for finding that note. It…means a lot.”

  “One last thing, to put your mind at ease. I did a little digging. I have reason to believe a Seer in her youth pushed her toward marrying Walt. This was after Romulus had left, of course. Now, whether this Seer was offering your mother a divine view of the future, or simply acting on her judgments regarding an unwed mother, I do not know. But in your mother’s position, heartbroken—I beg your pardon, Second—and after seeing a man disappear into thin air, when he crossed over to the Realm, she probably took the Seer’s guidance in good faith. Anyone would’ve done the same. Having taken a Seer’s guidance yourself, I hope you don’t fault her for that.”

  Memories of her mother visiting the fortune-tellers and palm and tarot readers drifted into Charity’s head. They’d been entertainment when she was little, sure, but Vlad was correct. Her mother had watched her real father cross over into the Realm… Charity could see asking a person she perceived as magical for answers. She could also see a real Seer giving her the option to sacrifice her happiness for a more favorable outcome for her daughter. Devon had received such a telling. Her mother would’ve done it out of love, as Devon had.

  More tears slipped down Charity’s cheeks. The sadness she’d felt over the last few years changed, turning into something good. The people that loved her most gave everything to see her through. It was more than anyone had a right to ask for. Charity was truly blessed.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Vlad swept into a bow, debonair and perfect. “Please, let me know if you need anything. I am at your service.” Vlad’s gaze shifted to Romulus. “Second, so great to finally meet you in person. I shall have you over for dinner one of these days. I would love to get your opinion on some gardens I’d like to alter.”

  “Of course. We can make a night of it.” Romulus offered his own bow, polite yet distant.

  Vlad took a step back. “I won’t keep you.” He turned a little, now facing Reagan. “Miss Somerset.”

  “Vlad.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I have not forgotten our exchange in the Lair. It has been on my mind of late.”

  “Oh, right,” she responded. “When I spun you around like a top? That time?”

  His smile was slight and sly. “One good turn deserves another. Shall I say hello to your father? He’ll be around next week for a…meeting of the minds.”

  Her face closed down into a hard mask. She didn’t respond.

  “Next time, perhaps.” He bowed to Charity again before zipping out of the area, so fast that it was startling. She never got used to it.

  “He will be capable of quite the bloom, yes,” Romulus said, eyeing Reagan as the shifters drifted back in. “Come, Charity—let’s go walk among Devon’s new and refreshing gardens and remember the good times. I want to hear more about your life growing up. It is time to lie within the shade of memories.”

  Feeling soggy and strung out, Charity let Devon and her dad marshal her toward the SUV. As she climbed in, her head spinning from Reagan and Vlad’s exchange, she noticed the way Reagan and the mages were standing. Reagan in the front, at the position of power, with Emery and Penny behind, in a pyramid. A pyramid not unlike the hazy grouping Charity recalled from her hallucination. They’d stood halfway between the two forces, facing off with another collection of vampires she hadn’t recognized.

  She shook her head. All of that was a concern for another day. Or another decade, if they were lucky. Right now, she just wanted to clutch her mom’s note to her chest and remember the good times, as her father had said. She had to admit that even though Vlad had made her life hell, she would forever be thankful for the closure he’d afforded her.

  She entwined her fingers with Devon’s and leaned against his arm, waiting for everyone else to load up.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “For what?” Devon asked.

  She smiled, sad but her heart full. “For everything. For helping me lock down the life my mother always wanted for me. She sacrificed herself so that I might one day find you. Maybe she hoped I’d find magic one day, too. She would’ve thought it was a job well done, having me end up here. She wouldn’t have been sorry. I can see that now. I can respect it.”

  Devon kissed her on the forehead. “She’d be proud of you.”

  She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, having found her place, finally.

  * * *

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  Start DDVN World with Born in Fire

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  Knowing I’m poor and desperate, he has offered me a job. I’ll have to work by his side to help solve a top secret case.

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  About the Author

  K.F. Breene is a Wall Street Journal, USA Today, Washington Post, Amazon Charts, and Top 10 All-star bestselling author of paranormal romance, urban fantasy, and fantasy novels. She lives in wine country where over every rolling hill, or behind every cow, an evil sorcerer might be plotting his next villainous deed while holding a bottle of wine and brick of cheese. Her husband thinks she’s cracked for wandering around, muttering about magic and swords. Her kids
are on board with her fantastical imagination, except when the description of the monsters becomes too real.

  She’ll wait until they’re older to tell them that monsters are real, and so is the magic to fight them. She wants them to sleep through the night, after all…

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