by Sarah Noffke
“Because only two people here knew that I had my father’s demon blood,” Paris explained. “Now the whole college knows. Actually, all of FGA will know soon, and it looks like it might get me kicked out of Happily Ever After College.”
His eyes widened with horror. “Paris, I didn’t tell anyone. I promise. I never would do that. I’m so sorry, but Headmistress Starr will never let them kick you out of the college.”
She didn’t know if she could believe him. She wanted to. He appeared earnest, worry springing to his features, but what if he’d let it slip and was lying?
Paris shot him a challenging expression. “If she can’t prevent you from being tossed out for being a magician, do you think she’ll be able to stop the FGA board if they don’t want a demon at the college?”
“You’re not a demon,” he replied, a sensitive expression on his face.
“I have demon blood,” Paris argued. “I spook horses. I also despise evil, but most won’t understand that. It’s not like I can point at my father and say, ‘Well, he has demon blood and saves the world. I’m good too.’ You might remember that no one knows my father is back or that he has demon blood. I’m on my own, and it’s FGA’s perception that counts.”
“I know how you must feel—”
“Do you?” Paris interrupted. “I don’t think you do. Your secret is still safe because I didn’t tell it.”
“Paris, I didn’t tell anyone about your demon blood. You have to believe me. I’d never do anything to betray your trust.”
He was pleading. Paris wanted to believe him, but someone shared this information, and it wasn’t Penny. If it wasn’t Hemingway, she didn’t know who else it could have been.
“Remember when I quoted the famous Hemingway?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Which time?”
“When I told you, ‘The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.’”
“Yeah, so you’re telling me that I can’t?” she asked.
He shook his head. “When you lie to deceive someone, they can’t ever trust you again. I’d never do that to you. I would never risk losing your trust because without that, we have nothing. You may not see it, but I want a lot more from you than your trust.”
Paris tensed, feeling suddenly nervous rather than angry. She bit her lip and lowered her gaze. Finally, when she forced herself to look back at Hemingway, she felt a new tension between them. “So you didn’t tell anyone about my demon blood?”
He shook his head and stepped forward.
“Then how do the FGA agents know?” Paris questioned.
“I don’t know,” Hemingway said thoughtfully. “But I’ll do whatever I can to help you figure it out.”
Paris knitted her fingers together, so many worries streaming through her mind. “Honestly, I have so many other problems to deal with.” She threw her arm in the direction of the mansion. “I have to go to dinner, and I’m pretty sure that the rumors of my demon blood will have spread throughout the college. Everyone will soon think I’m some evil that will hurt them. I don’t know if Headmistress Starr knew I had demon blood. She might be the first to kick me out, thinking that I’ll infect the college.”
Hemingway shook his head. “She’s not like that.”
“She’s already in so much trouble,” Paris argued. “The board will be upset. Donors will be breathing down her neck. I don’t know if I can fight this.”
Taking another step forward, Hemingway gave her a steady look. “Then we will fight it together. Because you’re right, it’s perception. Those stupid, uptight agents think they know everything, but they’re so stuck in old ways of thinking that they can’t see reason. I mean, they’re feeling-feeling fairies, but they’re also afraid of change. That’s what you represent. You’ve been able to do the one thing I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”
Paris blinked at him. The look on her face said, “What?”
“Be myself,” Hemingway said. “You are unapologetically Paris Beaufont, and that’s a beautiful thing.”
She blushed and pushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear.
“So you know what you have to do now?” he asked.
Paris shrugged, not at all knowing what to do at that point.
“You have to go to dinner with your head held high,” he stated. “They all will be talking. Let them. You’re the best of all worlds, and they aren’t worried about what evil you’re capable of. They’re terrified of how you’re going to revolutionize the fairy godmothers in all the best ways, spreading love everywhere, because let’s be honest, that’s exactly what you’re doing.”
Chapter Forty-Three
If Paris had any doubts about whether the rumors of her demon blood had spread around Happily Ever After College, her curiosity settled the moment she and Hemingway entered the mansion’s dining hall. Everyone halted their conversations and looked directly at her. There were a solid few seconds where most stared. A few backed up as if afraid she was about to breathe fire on them.
Paris reminded herself that to most uneducated types, demons were only evil. There was no gray for them. They wouldn’t know about a cure or a wish from a genie who made it so that she wasn’t a demon. That’s why Paris decided to address the matter straight on instead of skirting it. If the FGA board kicked her out of Happily Ever After College, at least she’d know that she made an effort.
Paris held up her hands, making some scream like she was about to curse them. A few fairies jumped back, covering their faces.
Paris shook her head at them. “Look, by now you all know that I have demon blood in addition to being half-magician and half-fairy. However, I’m not a threat to you or anyone else. A genie made me what I am at my parent’s request. Therefore, although I have demon blood, I only possess the best parts of it. I can sense evil. I have the hunger to fight it. I have the skills of the monster to win. Someone recently told me a demon’s worst enemy is a demon, and that’s me in so many ways. I intend to become the best fairy godmother because I want anything that blocks love, such as evil, erased. You all might try and create love, but because of my demon blood, I can’t physically stop until I’ve rid the world of bad. Until I’ve made a path for love. So talk about me. Stare at me if you must. But don’t fear me. I’m not like you. I’m a different type of fairy godmother, but I’ll make a good one.”
The room fell silent as Paris concluded. All eyes were on her, and she didn’t know what else to add now that she’d said her piece.
“A great one,” Headmistress Starr said from across the dining hall, smiling proudly at Paris. “And a well-said speech that hopefully puts all the rumors to rest. We do have other matters to attend to.”
At that, everyone in the room broke out of their trances and went back to getting food, eating, or conversing.
Paris let out a breath of relief and charged for the buffet line, hungry now that she’d given herself a chance to tap into her feelings.
She and Hemingway took their usual places at the dining room table, earning sneaky grins from Chef Ash, Christine, and Penny.
“Yeah, yeah.” Paris rolled her eyes at her friends. “I get that I made a scene, but what else was I supposed to do?”
“I thought it was grand,” Christine gushed.
“Me too,” Penny admitted.
“Oh, I agree,” Chef Ash stated. “I think it’s awesome that with everyone’s attention on Saint Valentine in attendance, Paris was able to steal his thunder.”
Paris nearly dropped her fork on the way to her mouth. “What? Saint Valentine is here? Where?”
Chef Ash nodded toward the head of the table to the left. “Down there. He’s the one intently watching you.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Of all the times that Paris picked to make a huge display, of course, it had to be when the leader of the fairy godmothers visited the college.
She slid down in her seat, not daring to look toward the end of the table at Saint Valentine. Paris needed a mome
nt to regain her composure first. She was pretty sure that announcing that she had demon blood in front of the college wasn’t going to go over very well with him. It would play straight into Agent Ruby’s hand. She’d taken the speculation out of the whole rumor, admitting to everyone who she was.
Paris remained convinced that it was a matter of time before the FGA board met, voted, and kicked her out of the college. Headmistress Starr, as supportive and open-minded as she was, wouldn’t be able to save her. Paris had dug her own grave at this point.
Christine waved down the table. “Hey there!”
“Oh, don’t do that,” Hemingway scolded, also sliding down in his chair.
“Why not?” Christine asked. “He’s gawking at me. Oh, and he brought a bunch of his cool agents from Matters of the Heart. That one is cute.”
Penny giggled. “Saint Valentine is staring at Paris.”
“You don’t know that,” Christine joked. “He could be staring at me because my parents are both accountants who cheat at card games on the weekends and…” She leaned forward, her voice suddenly conspiratorial. “I heard that my mom got bitten by a scorpion and had—”
“Scorpions don’t bite,” Hemingway corrected.
Paris shot him a pursed expression. “Really? That’s your takeaway from what Miss Ridiculous said?”
He nodded. “Sorry, I also wanted to say that accounting is a noble profession.”
“Yeah, right,” Christine challenged and pointed at Paris. “We’re all at a dinner party, and this one tells people that her parents were Warriors for the House of Fourteen. Then I get to follow with, ‘my parents did the taxes for farmers in Kansas.’ Guess who is getting her drink refilled with follow-up questions? Then guess who is getting sent to the kitchen for more little smokies.”
“Why does everyone think I go to dinner parties?” Paris stared at her plate of food, suddenly not hungry at all.
“That would be one of my questions too,” Becky Montgomery cut in from a few chairs down. “I mean, you’re not dinner party material.”
“I’d invite you, Becky, if I were having a slumber party,” Christine chimed. “I mean, we have to have someone who puts everyone to sleep.”
The group all laughed, excluding Becky, of course.
She glared at Paris. “You know, you might think you can convince others that your demon blood doesn’t make you dangerous, especially to fairies who those demonic monsters aren’t interested in. However, some of us will never trust you. Mother says that if it’s your fairy half that subdues your demon blood, that doesn’t mean it’s totally under control. You could turn on any of us fairies at any point.”
“You know what—”
Paris cut off Christine, who was probably coming to her rescue, holding up a hand—a sudden realization occurring to her. “It was Penny who said that bit about how demons didn’t go after fairies because they are so loving and emotional, not Hemingway.”
She looked at him, and he nodded in reply. “I told you it wasn’t me who told.”
Penny’s mouth fell open, and tears instantly filled her eyes. “Paris, it wasn’t me who told. I promise.”
“I know,” Paris replied. “Because the school found out about my demon blood, but if Becky here has been talking to dear old mother about it, then it sounds like she’s known for a good bit. What, were you spying on us?”
Becky leaned forward with a petulant glint in her eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk so loudly.”
Paris shot her a murderous glare, feeling the heat rise in her face again like before with Agent Ruby. “I would guess that it was Mrs. Montgomery who took it upon herself to pass along this information to FGA, hoping to get me expelled.”
Smugly, Becky shrugged. “If the truth gets you kicked out of Happily Ever After College, is that my fault?”
“If your snobbery gets you put in a headlock, is that my fault?” Christine asked, mock curiosity on her face.
Becky tightened her mouth, looking between Paris and Christine, trying to craft a retort. “Face it. No matter how you spin it, no one wants a halfling with demon blood here at the college. You might as well pack your bags because you don’t have long.”
“I don’t know,” a melodic voice said from directly beside them.
Everyone’s heads whipped up to see a very handsome man in a dark suit standing behind them. He had salt and pepper slicked-back hair and a cunning expression in his blue eyes. In the lapel of his jacket was a lush red rose, and on his face was a slight smile. Paris knew immediately that this had to be Saint Valentine.
“I, for one, think that a halfling with the advantages of a demon could make a great addition to the fairy godmothers.” He looked at all of them briefly before settling his gaze on Paris. “Maybe instead of packing your bags, you’ll join me in the conservatory for a chat?”
Chapter Forty-Five
If all eyes hadn’t been on Paris before, they were definitely watching her every move when Saint Valentine led her out of the dining hall. She had hardly taken a sip of air after the elegant man asked her for a private conversation. Paris had caught the look of total horror on Becky Montgomery’s face as well as the shock in her friends’ eyes.
The conservatory was empty and mostly dark since the sun had set at Happily Ever After College. Saint Valentine held out his hand, and a silver cane appeared at once. He flicked it slightly, and many of the Tiffany lamps around the room flickered to life, spilling warm light over the space.
Saint Valentine turned to her and waved the cane in a presenting fashion at the sofa in the middle of the room. “Shall we take a seat or would you prefer to stand? I would like you to be comfortable for this conversation.”
The leader of FGA and Matters of the Heart had quite publicly said that he thought Paris could make a good addition to the fairy godmothers, easing some of her worries. He’d told her not to pack her bags, so maybe he wasn’t put off by her demon blood like the conservatives such as the Montgomerys and Agent Ruby.
Paris drew a breath and forced herself to sit, watching as Saint Valentine gracefully copied her—sitting on the other side of the sofa.
“That was quite the speech you made at dinner,” he said in a smooth voice. The man didn’t seem old nor young, but he was the epitome of sophistication. Paris instantly liked him, whereas Agent Topaz and Agent Ruby had made her skin crawl.
She lowered her chin. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t realize you’d joined us for dinner. I’d just been outed in astrology and felt that I should cut off the rumors before people started making me out to be some devil worshipper who ate kittens for breakfast.”
Paris pressed her eyes closed, realizing that she’d said way too much and way too casually. Why couldn’t I simply have apologized? She felt mortified.
However, to her surprise, a soft chuckle fell out of Saint Valentine’s mouth. She opened her eyes to find an amused expression dancing around in his bright blue eyes. “I’ve heard of your sense of humor, but witnessing it is much more delightful.”
“You have?”
He nodded and rested both of his hands on his ornately engraved silver cane pinned on the floor. “Yes, I’ve heard a lot of interesting things about the halfling born to extraordinary Warriors, the niece to a dragonrider, and a formidable force of her own on Roya Lane. I dare say, the criminals are getting away with a lot with you here at Happily Ever After College.”
She laughed. “Yeah, but now you know I have demon blood.”
He waved off her worry. “That doesn’t seem like a problem to me. Your explanation makes perfect sense.”
“It does?” Paris needed him to tell her more—make her feel better about this all after the afternoon she’d had. In a few short hours, Paris had her secrets revealed to the college, had a public argument with an FGA agent, thought that Hemingway or Penny had deceived her, and learned that a powerful family was trying to destroy her. Needless to say, she needed a morale booster.
“A very thin veil divides love
and evil,” Saint Valentine explained. “It is love that makes people do the greatest acts of goodness and also drives them to the craziest ones of desperation. I can wholeheartedly believe that your demon blood fuels you in ways that will make you passionate about creating good. I dare say it is usually those who have experienced trauma who want to heal the world. It is those who have lost everything that want to ensure no one goes without. All too often, it is those who have not had their loved ones in their lives, who want no one ever to feel lonely, like they once felt.”
Goosebumps rose on Paris’ skin. It was as if Saint Valentine was looking into her soul. Even more chilling, he appeared to like what he saw as he smiled serenely at her.
“That makes sense.” Paris hoped he’d keep talking, enchanted by his voice and words.
“Also, there is a choice involved when people have a drop of demon blood in them or whatever the equivalent could be in other examples,” he continued. “When you found out that you had demon blood in you, what did you think?”
“I was afraid that it would corrupt me,” she answered at once. “I worried recently and consulted with an expert.” Paris trusted Saint Valentine without knowing why, but she didn’t think she should tell him that her parents were back. That was their job, not hers.
He nodded. “You see, you want to be good. Your demon blood can make you evil or fight evil. It’s always been your choice, and it seems clear what you’ve chosen.”
“I won’t ever let it turn me the other way around,” Paris stated with confidence.
“No, and you wouldn’t be here if that was a possibility,” he agreed.
“I appreciate your encouraging words on this, but there are a lot of other people who don’t want me here,” Paris admitted, needing to be honest and forthright.
He tilted his head back and forth. “Unfortunately, I can’t quell all the skeptics. Honestly, there’s a lot of division at FGA.”
“Because some don’t want things to evolve for FGA and here at the college?”
