1. Cassie

1

CASSIE

I normally loved going to the beach. This time was an exception, mostly because I'd never wanted to be an extra in a real-life version of that Hitchcock bird movie.

The car door slammed behind me, and I bolted across the dunes, my hair flapping behind me in the salty breeze. My foot slipped out of a sandal, but I didn't stop to retrieve it, skip-hopping toward the center of the disturbance.

The beach was in chaos, a whirlwind of feathers and screeches, people running for cover, and a few stupidheads standing around with their phones out gawking.

"Damn it," I muttered, the soft sand gritty and damp against my bare foot. There was no time to worry about a lost shoe when the sky above was thick with gulls. They were everywhere, like a storm cloud of wings and beaks, their cries piercing the air.

I charged at the center of the storm, where a song threaded through the chaos—pure, ethereal, haunting. The singer was, of course, an elf. Because I really needed this today.

More birds arrived in response to the siren call of her voice.

The elf stood at the top of an artful pile of rocks, both arms stretched upwards toward the squawking mass, her pale skin almost glowing against the darkening sky.

"Beautiful, just wonderful," I grumbled.

A handful of men and women too entranced or too stupid to seek cover, gawked at her. Their attention was totally fixed on the elf, whose slender form was barely concealed by what looked like layers of sheer fabric, clinging to her curves and fluttering in the wind. The material was damp from the sea spray, adding to the effect.

Of course, she also looked like she'd been enhanced by a CGI team. All she needed was a soundtrack.

"Hey!" I tried to shout over the cacophony, but my voice didn't carry far enough. I had to get closer.

I felt it before I saw it—a wet splat hit my shoulder, followed by another plop on my head.

"Ugh, gross!" My temper flared hot and quick as I swiped my hair back, not daring to look down at what I knew would be a smeared mess on my shirt. The world was literally crapping on me, and I'd had enough.

"Stop singing!" I yelled, finally close enough to the elf to be heard over the winged frenzy. She turned in slow motion, long dark hair somehow both damp and flowing, and faced me, a faint smirk playing on her lips.

"Stop? But why?" The elf's reply was song, each word a note that seemed to dance on the salty air. Her face sparkled with mischief.

"Because people could get hurt!" I shot back, my patience wearing thin. My voice was mundane compared to hers, but at this point, I didn't care. I was done with elf mischief.

"Look at them." I pointed toward a group of people huddled under a small shelter, their faces masks of fear as gulls swooped dangerously close, their beaks sharp and menacing.

I ignored the people in plain sight. Presumably if they were pecked, they'd run for cover too.

My jaw clenched as the elf shook her head, her expression shifting to stubborn refusal. "No," she said, her tone even, "it's time for the gulls to get even for all the human cruelties."

"Are you kidding me?" Anger surged through my veins, hot and potent. "Have you no brains? They'd probably be happy with some fish being left out or something, not pecking people's eyes out!" My voice rose, its timbre laced with an authority I didn't fully understand but could feel pulsing at my core.

The elf tilted her head, considering me as if I were a curious specimen rather than a threat. Her indifference poured fuel on my mad.

"Stop this!" The words erupted from me. They rippled out through the air, resonating deeper than I'd intended.

Something inside me clicked into place, the power in me I'd discovered a little while ago. It was hard to get it to work, but in response to my anger, the invisible force reached out toward the elf, compelling her to heed my words.

She blinked, taken aback, her song faltering. "Very well," she conceded with a graceful flick of her long fingers. With a flutter of translucent draperies, she turned on her heel and flounced off, leaving no tracks on the damp sand.

As the magic in her melody dissipated, the frenzied circling and swooping of the birds slowed, their calls dying down rather than almost deafening me. Half the gulls landed near discarded food, pecking at it, happy to fill their bellies when not driven by the elf's desire. The air was suddenly filled with the sound of human voices, an annoyed chorus replacing the deadly melody.

"Tell Aiden we need to talk!" I yelled after her, my voice slicing through the angry commentary of the people emerging from their shelters. The elf, a mere wisp of translucence against the chaotic backdrop, didn't turn back but raised a hand in vague acknowledgment—or was it dismissal? Either way, the message should get through.

I marched off the beach, one shoe missing, the wet sand squelching between my toes. Ignoring the mess on my shoulder, I trudged back to my car.

Mission accomplished. Whee.

"Hey, you there. Can I get a quick word about what just happened?" A young guy with phone in hand approached me, the unmistakable eagerness of a stringer on his face.

"Look, if you want an interview about the elves, call Repupair," I said, brushing past him. "Andromeda Quinn is their representative. Otherwise, no comment."

"Got it." He snapped a photo before I could protest. "And your name is?"

"Cassie," I muttered, baring my teeth at him in a maybe smile. "Hope you have a great day."

"Thanks, Cassie. This will make an interesting piece!" he called after me, already tapping away on his phone.

"Sure, as long as it doesn't come back to bite me," I mumbled under my breath, thinking how my sister Roma, would have to work to spin this one. Franklin's absence had left a void, but together, she was great at keeping the PR ship afloat and headed in the right direction.

Now, if only those damned birds would disperse.

I slammed the door of my apartment behind me, my emotion from the day finally boiling over. My shirt was a disaster, the bird poop dried a second skin in the time it took to get home after three different accidents snarled traffic even worse than usual.

My hair felt like it had been styled with tar. I didn't bother glancing at the mirror in the entryway —I didn't need to confirm how terrible I must look.

"Shower," I muttered to myself as if I needed the reminder. Stripping off my ruined shirt, I tossed it into the hamper with more force than necessary. It would be a nice challenge for the dry cleaners later, but right now, I couldn't care less.

The hot water from the shower head was a miracle, finally able to wash away the physical reminders of my no good very bad day. As I lathered my hair, gritty with salt, sand and bird poop, I tried to focus on something other than memory. The clean herbal scent of the shampoo, the sound of water cascading all around me, anything other than that song and splat.

"Cassie, deal with it," I said aloud, trying to drown out the mental noise. The elf's song lingered in my ears, an eerie melody. That was how all elfsong was, a horrible earworm.

"Stop it!" I snapped, shaking my head to dispel the memory. Steam enveloped me, the mirror fogging up, I focused on the now, the scalding spray, the quiet—just me in the shower, reclaiming my space, my peace.

When I finally shut off the water, stepping out onto the fuzzy green bathmat, I felt looser, less frazzled. The chaos of the beach receded from me, now my sister's problem.

My problem was unless I concentrated on not thinking about my responsibilities, the need to mediate between this world and the elves, they came right back into my face.

"Tomorrow's problem," I told my reflection, now just a vague outline in the misted-over mirror. "Tonight, you relax."

Wrapped in a towel with another twisted up in my hair, I plopped down onto the suede couch. The fabric felt cool against my skin, a contrast to the day's heat and the lingering warmth from my shower. I let out a long sigh that seemed to carry the weight of every fire I'd put out today.

I leaned back, trying to keep myself relaxed. My disobedient mind raced, replaying the day's events—the elf, her song and words, the cacophony of the gulls. It would have been so nice if they'd stayed a myth, a fairy tale, not chaos generators coming to my local beach.

"Dammit, Aiden," I muttered under my breath, wondering when the Elf King's son would deign to appear. He'd made the deal with me back in Dream. In exchange for innocent humans being released back to Earth, the elves could once again visit earth under my supervision.

I'd thought that he would control them as well. Silly me. Here I was, chasing after his kin like some glorified nanny. I never signed up to babysit a bunch of sociopathic hyperactive adult toddlers.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table, its screen lighting up with a message. Work, probably. Probably Roma, knee-deep in PR crises thanks to the elves' latest stunt.

On the other hand, Roma's wedding with the Goblin King could help me corral the elves. There was no way they'd miss that event.

And I'd have help from the other kings in keeping the elves out of trouble, since they liked Bran and would want his wedding trouble free.

I reached for the phone again, this time with purpose. Tapping swiftly, I composed a new message and hit send, watching as it appeared in our group chat.

Roma needs to marry on Fellmere Island, right? Any date yet?

The screen lit up almost immediately—Shay's response popped up first.

Island venue, yes. But my head's too full to deal with wedding plans right now." ????

A beat later, Roma chimed in.

I could do small. Way too swamped with monster PR to think about a big event.

Heh. No, big sister, it's going to be a big wedding for you. Before I could type my reply, Tanni's message cut through the conversation, her tone firm even in text form.

It has to be grand, Roma. Bran is royalty, and we need the positive press. Think of the optics.

I sighed, dislodging my towel as I ran a hand through my still-damp hair. Tanni had a point. A royal wedding would play well for everyone involved.

Fine. Roma answered.

I grinned as I tapped on my phone.

A big blowout it is.

The messages kept coming, a stream of pings and vibrations. Lots of ideas and suggestions, as irresistible as the incoming tide. I made my decision when Tanni started sending bullet-pointed lists of what needed to be done and when.

Look, we all have a lot going on.

I typed back, my thumbs moving with practiced ease.

I'll take care of the wedding details. Stop worrying.

Are you sure?

Roma's reply was immediate, the undercurrent of relief palpable even through the cold digital text.

You're a lifesaver, Cassie.

Sure as I'll ever be.

My gut flipped at the memory of my wedding. Well, the planning wasn't what messed that marriage up.

Thanks so much! **heart emojis**

Remember, it has to be on the island. Shay sent in a separate message to me only. It's the only safe place for her.

I paused, the words sinking in.

I know.

I kept it short. Shay's visions were almost never wrong, and that one—Roma dying if she married anywhere but the island—was a frightening weight to carry.

Cassie is the best!

Tanni's final text popped up, sounding more like a cheer than part of a chat.

I locked the phone and tossed it onto the couch beside me, leaning back and closing my eyes.

The island venue made things complicated, true, but nothing I couldn't handle. The responsibility of orchestrating a spectacle worthy of royalty rested on my shoulders. I could do this.

"Just have to figure out how to get the elves to calm the heck down," I muttered into the silence of the room. "That's going to be so easy. Not."