Fae Games Read online

  “Pokeweed,” I said. “You’ll always be a dear friend.”

  His only reply was a nod.

  An awkward silence hung in the air, not even broken up by the slightest breeze. I stood against the massive trunk, inhaling the scent of ripe apples and blossoms and marveled at the low-hanging branches of a plant that produced apples that shone like beads of blood.

  “When my mother failed to produce a heat after five years, the Duke of Nevermore petitioned Queen Titania for a dissolution of their mating.”

  My brows rose, as I didn’t know such things were possible. “I take it that she refused?”

  “The day he visited Her Majesty, the outsiders arrived with iron warships in response to a message in a bottle that had floated to England. King Oberon moved the Royal Court to the Prudence Plaza and sent the duke down to handle the negotiations.”

  I nodded. Prince Caulden had mentioned something about that area being a hiding place from the United Nations.

  Pokeweed exhaled a long, shuddering breath. “She went into heat, and someone whisked her away to mate.”

  My hand clapped over my mouth. “The duchess was raped?”

  “It’s complicated.” He bent toward a low branch, picked off withered leaves, and left them on the ground. “When a female goes into heat, all her magic goes into strengthening her body for hours of vigorous mating and the subsequent pregnancy. If she doesn’t mate within an hour of the start of her heat, then that magic will attract every male with a scrap of power.”

  I reeled forward and held onto the trunk for balance. At least now I understood why Prince August had said I had an unfair advantage over the Fated. Being sturdy enough to enjoy sex all year round had to be attractive.

  “Who mated with your mother?” I asked.

  Still hunched over the low branch, Pokeweed shook his head. “She can’t remember.”

  “Or her memories were wiped?” I asked, remembering what high faeries did to cast-offs to prevent them from gaining their rightful inheritance.

  Pokeweed straightened and walked around the massive trunk. He reached a spindly twig protruding from an overhead branch, snapped it off, and healed the wound between his fingers. “It’s possible that the faerie didn’t want to risk the duke’s wrath, but that would mean performing the darkest of enchantments.”

  I followed after him, my throat convulsing. “I couldn’t help but wonder about your appearance. Are there any faeries who look like you?”

  “The curse that stole her memories caused me to be born like this.” He turned around and spread his arms wide.

  “I’m—” The unspoken word hung in the air. Saying that I was sorry was an admission that I found him horrendous. He wasn’t. Pokeweed had an inner beauty that so far, none of the princes could match with their sweet words, talented hands, and gorgeous exteriors.

  Pokeweed turned his head and smiled. “This accursed body has been the source of much misery. But you can help me.”

  A flutter of hope rippled through my heart, and I reached for his arms, only to snatch my hands away before I upset him with an unwanted touch. From everything I knew of Pokeweed, he was the type of male any girl would be happy to have at his side. Strong, kind, reliable, and capable. But I already had two princes and didn’t think they would share me with someone they considered beneath them.

  I ran around Pokeweed’s large frame, making him stop walking. “What can I do?”

  “I’ll do everything in my power to help you win all four princes,” he said.

  “What?” I stepped back. “I despise the other two.”

  Pokeweed’s face split into a wide smile of perfect teeth. It made me jerk back a little because I hadn’t been expecting to see something so dazzling, given his peculiar exterior.

  “How did you feel about the other two you when you met them?” he asked.

  A laugh bubbled from the back of my throat. “I hated them, too.”

  Pokeweed chuckled, the sound lightening my heart. I shook my head and asked, “Why do you want me to have them all?”

  “A little bird told me you’ve already captured the hearts of the Autumn and Winter princes. If you want to survive Queen Titania’s wrath, you must mate with them all.”

  “That’s easier said than done,” I muttered.

  “I’ll help.”

  Tilting my head to the side, I asked, “Why?”

  “The faerie who bonds with all four princes will unite the courts and become a queen in her own right.”

  I stepped back, holding both palms out in a double ‘stop’ motion. It was one thing to wake up with faerie wings, another to stumble into a death trial to mate with fae princes, but becoming the ruler of the Isle of Fae? That was ridiculous.

  Tiny beads of sweat formed on my brow. Wouldn’t it be great if the past few days were a nightmare brought on by Elijah’s warning that Lady Gala was going to come after me. Then Sicily could shake me awake, and we would wake up the next morning and disappear to Balley Chashtal.

  “Pokeweed,” I rasped. “But I don’t want to be—”

  “You would control the wishbone,” he said.

  My heart thudded. “What?”

  He lowered himself to the ground and sat, resting his back against the tree trunk. What appeared to be a wistful expression crossed his features, but it was hard to tell with all that brown fur.

  I sat a foot away and turned toward my friend, waiting for him to speak. In the DVDs, wishbones were a V-shaped bone people would break during festivities where a family would banquet on a whole roasted bird. It was just a cutesy tradition as there was no magic in the outside world, but on the Isle of Fae, such an item might work.

  Pokeweed leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “The wishbone is the most powerful piece of magic on the Isle of Fae and grants its wielder three wishes.”

  “What kind of…” Ideas somersaulted through my mind. If I could obtain the wishbone, I could make it return me to the time before Sicily left to make a bargain. I could also fix things so Helen would never have gotten her magic stolen.

  A breath caught in the back of my throat. It could return Mom to us in perfect health and find Dad. Or if I phrased things right, move the whole family to Beverly Hills or Orange County, where the doctors could heal Mom with their marvelous medicine.

  I sucked in a loud, excited breath. Anything could be possible if I got my hands on that wishbone. Staring up into Pokeweed’s shining eyes, I asked, “What do you want in exchange?”

  “Use one of your wishes to break the curse,” he said.

  “Which cur—” Of course. Pokeweed meant the curse that had robbed him of the knowledge of his father and had covered him in a blanket of moth-pattered fur. With a sharp nod, I said, “I’ll put a wish aside for you, but I still think it’s going to be impossible to win over the other two princes.”

  He stretched his legs out and smiled.“Once they get to know you, I think they will fall just as hard as Princes Caulden and Rory.”

  My insides made that happy, I-can’t-believe-what-you’re-saying-is-true flip, and I squirmed on the patch of cool grass. “I-I’ll do my best, but if they continue acting like dicks—”

  “You’ll charm them.” Pokeweed picked up a few blades of grass and pulled them between his fingertips, so they became transparent.

  “What are you doing?” I stared at the beginnings of a huge web.

  “Making a dress that will bring out your natural beauty and melt even the hardest heart.”

  “There she is,” said a voice in the distance.

  I twisted around the trunk to the direction of the sound. A tall male in white strode toward us with a crimson-haired male wearing the academy uniform.

  Pokeweed scrambled to his feet and held out his hand. “Now’s your chance to dazzle Prince Bradwell.”

  I let him yank me up. “What?”

  “Look for your dress under your pillow.” He scampered around the massive oak and disappeared.

  Straightening,
I walked out from the canopy of the tree toward the newcomers with an excited thrum in my heart. How difficult could it be to seduce a faerie who wouldn’t get a chance of a romp with any of the gorgeous girls in the academy?

  As they drew close, I recognized the male’s white uniform and the gold dazzling on his lapels. It was Helen’s father, the Duke of Medietas.

  “Unity Quayle,” he said.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I wish to ask you some questions about the theft of my daughter’s magic and her subsequent banishment.”

  My feet stopped moving, and I paused by a pair of apple trees curled around each other. Everything Pokeweed told me about winning over the princes vanished, and I shot Prince Bradwell a scowl. Helen’s current predicament was partially his fault.

  “Have you asked your companion?” I said.

  The spring prince’s nostrils flared. “If you’re referring to the configuration of the pyre stones, my brother nor I could have predicted that the Fated would victimize Helenius.”

  “Because you wanted to banish me,” I snarled.

  “Rightly so.” Prince Bradwell inclined his head.

  A growl reverberated in the back of my throat. Pokeweed was wrong. I would never, ever mate with a guy as shitty as him and his blond brother.

  I turned to the duke. “If there’s anything I can do to help Helen, please ask.”

  The older faerie inclined his head in thanks. “We’ve had several statements implicating Gala of Nevermore in the theft of my daughter’s magic and her banishment.”

  I nodded, waiting for the opportunity to throw the other three Fated under the bus.

  “It’s about her accomplice, Elijah Meadowhawks.”

  “What?”

  Prince Bradwell wrinkled his nose. “The halfling who defiled you in full view of the academy.”

  The duke grimaced, but it was a sympathetic expression. “Meadowhawks has conducted a number of illicit activities. However, until now, he has never acted against one of our own.”

  A cloud drifted across the sun, casting us in gloom. My lips tightened at the implication that his participation in what Elijah and the Fated had done to me was no cause for anyone’s concern. Elites like them considered a half-blood unworthy for justice.

  “What’s your involvement with Meadowhawks?” snarled Prince Bradwell. “Are you involved with his whoremongering?”

  My mouth dropped open. “Whore?”

  “Your Highness,” said the duke. “We are here to investigate—”

  “Let me guess.” Prince Bradwell advanced on me, his lips curled into a snarl. “You and he split the proceeds from all the humans you procure for law-abiding faeries.”

  I stepped back, my heart beating as fast as my wings. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t deny it,” the prince snapped. “I heard that disgusting halfling boast that you knew exactly how to please him. That’s because you and he conducted black magic to help you to taint the crown!”

  My next step had the back of my shoulder crashing against a trunk, but I didn’t feel the pain. Whoremongering… Was Elijah a pimp?

  “Your Highness!” said the duke, his voice shaking with exasperation and a tinge of restrained anger.

  “He is corrupting our males,” bellowed Prince Bradwell. “Allowing them to take on his form and visit his human lovers. Hundreds of faeries have fallen prey to this disgusting habit!”

  Rapid connections fired in my head like the DVD I’d once seen of the London New Years’ Eve display of fireworks. Elijah’s sexual variety. How he’d sometimes fuck me hard and fast, sometimes slow and sensual, always wanting to try something new.

  Shallow breaths fluttered in and out of my lungs, making my head spin. What if it wasn’t Elijah all this time? What if it was one of those corrupt faeries who had taken on his form to—

  My eyes crossed, my vision went double, and the last thing I remembered before hitting the ground was Prince Bradwell’s panicked face.

  Chapter 10

  A pungent scent stung my sinuses, and I jerked awake. A faerie with hair like dandelion fluff and sparkling, blue eyes loomed a foot away from my face.

  He drew back, revealing a room of floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed with flasks and vials and colored bottles. What was this? The fae equivalent of a mad scientist?

  “There you are,” he said with a grin half as wide as the Jack of Smiles. “Good as new.”

  “What happened?” I rubbed the side of my head and yawned, feeling oddly refreshed.

  “My name is Tarax. Artichoke Tarax.” He straightened his gangly frame of over six foot five and raised a long finger. “Well, you see, it’s like this. When young faerie females reach a certain age, magic prepares their bodies for adulthood. By adulthood, I mean the consummation of a mating bond and subsequent offspring.”

  Tilting my head to the side, I waited for him to get to the point because in my just-awakened state, it seemed like he was giving me a talk on the birds and the bees.

  “Yes, yes,” he said to himself with a self-satisfied chuckle. “Magic can be very strange, indeed. One moment a young female is in the bloom of childhood, and the next, a surge sends all the magic down south, robbing the noggin of precious air.”

  I stifled another yawn. “So, I fainted?”

  His happy features dropped. “That’s another way of putting it.”

  I pulled myself upright. “How long was I out?”

  “Technically, only a few minutes. His Highness brought you here the moment you swooned, and the Duke of Medietas wanted you awakened to conduct an interrogation that I believe caused your current ailment.”

  My brows drew together, and I glanced around his room. Apart from a couple of pixies placing bottles on the shelves, there was no sign of Helen’s father or Prince Bradwell waiting for me to answer questions.

  “So, you drove them away?” I asked.

  “The calming draught I enchanted into your belly along with the nourishing elixir should restore the magic and energy you lost from the shock you encountered.”

  I glanced around the walls for a clock or sundial or any kind of timekeeping piece, but all I found were shelves stretching to the ceiling. “What time is it?”

  “If you hurry, you will make it for a hearty breakfast before classes. However, my assistants can prepare you a balanced—”

  “What?” A stab of panic lanced my heart, and I leaped off the bed. I was going to be late.

  “Excuse me?” The healer’s fluffy, white brows drew together.

  “The beauty contest!”

  He placed his arms behind his back and rocked forward on his heels. “Prince Bradwell was most concerned about your health and told me to let you sleep the entire morning.”

  “I’ll bet he did!” I swung out of bed, and one of the pixies flew across the room, holding my blazer. After shouldering it on, I dashed to the door and turned its handle. “Thanks for taking care of me!”

  I stepped out, and the door closed behind me. To my front, left, and right, a maze of stone hallways stretched to what appeared to be infinity, and the walls curled in on themselves, making my stomach twist with imagined vertigo. I spun around to ask Healer Tarax for help, but another hallway had replaced the door.

  Keeping my hand to the wall, I took a tentative step to the right and continued walking until the wall opened up into a stone staircase. As soon as I reached out for the railing, it turned into a white snake, which raised its head and hissed through a mouthful of fangs.

  Terror spiked through my heart. I snatched my hand away and leaped back, shaking so hard, I could barely stand. The pulse between my ears pounded like war drums.

  “Bloody hell,” I said through shuddering breaths.

  This had to be another glamor. Set by Prince Bradwell or one of the other faeries who wanted me out of this trial. With fingers that wouldn’t stop trembling, I reached into my pocket, fumbled for the open salt sachet, and emptied its contents onto my tongue.

&nbs
p; I’m not sure what the healer gave me, but the foulest taste filled my mouth, making me double over and retch. Tears flooded my eyes, and I grabbed onto the wall for balance. If I stayed in this place any longer, I would no longer be able to tolerate salt.

  An eye-watering moment later, the worst of the nausea vanished, and I straightened. When my vision cleared, I found myself standing on the ledge of a door-sized, arched window. Beneath me was a fifty-foot drop to a stone courtyard.

  I scrambled back, tripped over my feet, and fell on my ass with a tailbone-shattering crunch. Pain shot up my spine, but it was nothing compared to what might have happened if I hadn’t stopped to take salt.

  “They mean to kill me,” I whispered to myself.

  A sarcastic voice asked me if I’d finally gotten the message, but I pushed it to one side and staggered to my feet. I had to reach this contest, even if it meant parading in my academy uniform. Princes Caulden and Rory were waiting for me.

  I turned around and continued to the top of a stone staircase that twisted around itself like a coiled snake. I placed a tentative hand on its rail, waiting for it to transform and attack me with its fangs, but it remained a stone handrail.

  This was probably the same staircase I saw the Fated descend on my first day of the academy. It was less than a week ago, but so much had happened since then that I barely recognized myself.

  As I reached the middle, I tried to remember what had made me faint. Helen’s father had been investigating her loss of magic and banishment. Had I been paranoid that Prince August had carried out his threat to have me exposed for dark magic? Something about my being a pawn with a dark master, I think.

  I let those thoughts drift away. It had been Prince Bradwell at the Duke of Medietas’s side, and he had been ranting about—

  My knees buckled. I grabbed onto the rail with both hands, but my body swung around, turning me back to front.

  Elijah.

  Elijah had whored me out to fuck-knows how many faeries who had taken on his image and visited our house. Nausea rose to the back of my throat, and tears stung the back of my eyes.