Chapter 19

Nineteen

I pace the front room of my house, hands balled into fists.

Every now and then, frost spiderwebs across the living room windows and I have to stop and take in several deep breaths so the power doesn’t get away from me.

“It’s going to be all right, Jessie,” Jimmy says, but I know she can’t know that, and she’s just trying to keep me from turning the house into an igloo.

“Arion is powerful,” I say and swivel back around once I’ve reached the dining table. “And he’s not on my side.”

“ Yet ,” she reminds me. She’s leaning against the casing on the front window, arms crossed casually over her chest. She’s wearing a black t-shirt and black leggings that, on anyone else, would look like a yoga outfit. But I know better—those are the clothes of a warrior ready for battle.

“What if he turns on Bran before Bianca can work her magic? Or worse, what if the Summer Queen ambushes him and?—”

Jimmy’s line of sight pivots to the street.

My heart hammers in my ears as I skirt around the couch and join her side.

Bran is standing in the front yard with the Alpha, Keiko, Bianca, and Baspin. And on Bran’s left is a large wolf with watching eyes.

“I smell blood,” Jimmy says and hurries to the front door.

We cross the porch together, but she’s down the steps in a blur of movement and in front of Bran a half second later, examining him with a sweep of her hands.

“It’s not mine, Jim,” Bran tells her.

When I come up behind her, and the light from the streetlights hits him just right, I can see what she was worried about. There’s blood splattered across his face, dribbling down his neck, smeared across his shirt.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Ran into a bit of trouble on our exit,” Baspin answers.

“Bran took care of it,” Bianca fills in.

Jimmy steps back, giving me room. “Are you okay?” I ask him.

There’s still a faint pulsing glow to his irises, but I don’t see any wounds. “I’m fine,” he tells me. “But it’s hard to say how he’ll feel about it all when we make him fae again.” He tips his head at Arion still in wolf form. “Were they friends of yours, fae?”

Arion growls at us.

“How long will the Qua rrel’s command last?” I ask Baspin.

“We have at least a few more hours.”

“Good. Bianca, turn him back?”

“Of course.” She steps forward and whispers two sharp words. There’s a soft WHUMP, then a flash of light.

When the air clears, Arion is crouched in front of me on all fours. He stands to his full height, rolling his shoulders, stretching out his joints. There’s anger etched into the space between his dark brows. “Never do that again,” he warns me.

“We did what we had to do,” I tell him, squaring myself against him. “You never would have come otherwise.”

“Well, I’m here. Now what?” He grits his teeth. “I’m still at your command, Your Highness .”

He says the latter with enough venom to sting, as if the title is a sham. Maybe it is.

But I’m not going to let him get beneath my skin.

“We need to talk.” I turn back for the house. “Come inside, listen to what I have to say, and then you’ll be free to go.”

He frowns. “Just like that?”

I pause halfway up the stairs to glance at him over my shoulder. “Just like that. No one will hurt you. You have my word.”

Arion, Lord of the Summer Court, paces around my living room, eyeing the forgotten stack of magazines, the framed family portraits. I pour us each a glass of wine.

Bran agreed to give me and Arion privacy, but I can see his shadow on the porch, and I know he’s hanging on every word just waiting for an excuse to barge in. I’m glad for his protection.

“You really did live an entirely different life, didn’t you?” Arion’s squinting at a framed picture of me and Kelly at the aquarium several years back.

I hand him the glass of wine, then take a sip from mine. “It seems like someone else’s life, if I’m honest.”

“Do you wish you could go back?”

“No. Never.” I tip my head at the photo. “That was a lie and I felt it every day in my bones, even if I didn’t know what it meant.”

I watch him for recognition.

Does he know?

Does he know he’s being used, that the Summer throne will be his if the Summer Queen is deposed?

His frown deepens. He sets the wine glass down without drinking. Smart. Smarter than I am, apparently. “What do you want to say to me? Say it so we can be done.”

“Do you want to be fighting this war?”

“Why?”

“Just answer the question.”

“You’re not going to make me?” The last part, bitten out.

“No.”

He huffs out a breath. “I didn’t want any of this.”

“And by this , you mean killing our mother?”

His nostrils flare. “You know nothing about our mother. Careful what you speak of her.”

“You’re right.” My anger flares up to match his. “I know nothing about her because she’s dead. And I will never have a chance to know her unless you tell me.”

“What is this about, Jessie? What do you want from me?”

I pull my cell phone from my pocket, tapping at the screen. His confusion doubles. I bring up the recording and hit play.

It’s clear the voice is Kelly’s, but the tenor is off and there’s a slight echo as if she’s speaking through a microphone.

I watch Arion’s face for his reaction as Kelly—the Summer Queen—makes her plan known.

She’ll kill Arion. She’ll install her illegitimate son on both thrones.

Arion staggers back. His eyes are wide, but his focus far away.

“Is this some kind of trick?” he asks. There’s pain in his voice, an almost desperate plea. He wants it to be a trick. If it’s a trick, then it’s a lie, and if it’s a lie, he can continue on with his life.

I shake my head. “I don’t want to fight you, Arion. I want to fight with you.”

He turns away, shoulders a rigid line.

“She’s using you,” I go on. “She’s been using you to get what she wants.”

He whirls on me. “And what are you doing right now? Are you not also using me to get what you want?”

“How dare you!” I surge forward, pointing a finger at him. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask to be born into this family. I didn’t ask to be switched out a birth. Smuggled away. I just want to be left alone! I barely know what it is to be fae?—”

“Jessie.”

“—I want to stay in Midnight Harbor with my vampire boyfriend and live my fucking life!”

“Jessie!”

I find Bran’s hands on me, frost turning his pale skin a paler blue. Ice grows from the pendant light hanging over the dining table and snow falls from the ceiling.

When I breathe out, it’s a puff of white air.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t…I don’t know how to control it yet.”

Arion swallows, nods. “It’s all right.”

“I just want?—”

“I have to go.” He turns for the door.

“Wait, Arion?—”

Bran pulls me back. “Let him go.”

“What? Why?”

“You just shattered his worldview, Mouse. Let the man digest it.”

Arion disappears out the front door and down the front steps. Everything in me says to stop him from going. But I know Bran’s right. If I want my brother to join me, I can’t rush him into it, even if the clock is ticking.