29

Violet Miller and a Morning Sip of Fun and Doom

Violet had possibly gone too far, but she needed Mor to keep her. She wasn’t sure how he’d react once he found out what she did. He’d been so adamant about keeping everyone away from his cathedral, and Violet had flushed that hope of his down the toilet. He’d find that out soon enough.

The morning was cooler than normal, leaving the bedroom window covered in dew. Violet sifted through the duffle bag Mor had packed of her clothes until she found a clean shirt, a loose pink sweater, and a pair of blush jeans. Thus far, she’d tried to stay somewhat decorated with her clothing—if wearing the same dress for days on end could be considered decorated—but she didn’t have many options with the clothes he’d chosen. Everything looked… comfortable. Relaxed. Totally not workplace appropriate. Also, everything in her duffle bag had a strange grassy smell. Violet lifted the collar of her sweater and sniffed with a wince.

Her scathed bare heels were happy when she traded her usual stilettos for the shoes he’d bought her—boring white things with laces and zero added height. After she slid them on, she raked her fingers through her loose hair in the bathroom. There was no point in trying to doll herself up this morning when she still didn’t have her curling iron, so she stuck on a cute, salmon-coloured sunhat instead.

She headed downstairs to the kitchen to make tea, but she paused in the doorway when she saw four used mugs on the countertop. They hadn’t been there last night. When she peered inside the cups, traces of milk were left in the bottom. She looked back toward the hall, wondering if Mor had company while she’d been asleep.

Violet’s suspicions were confirmed when she spotted several sets of muddy shoeprints, and one set of dirty bare feet footprints around the kitchen. She squatted down to examine the bare foot one, trying to measure it against how big she remembered Shayne’s feet being.

“Did you drop something?”

Violet yelped and stood-spun all at once. One of her shoes caught on the other and she tripped forward, her hat flying off. For the first time, Mor didn’t let her tumble to the floor in a heap at his feet—his arm came around her waist and he yanked her against him to balance.

Violet was sure she could hear her heart beating in her ears. She was also sure he’d just discovered she hadn’t taken her iron supplements last night. That she’d secretly decided to try and ween herself off them forever, despite his instructions. In about an hour, she was going to start getting dizzy, and if it was an unlucky day, the stomach pains would begin, too.

She hoped maybe she could pull away before Mor noticed their skin was touching, but his vampire coat hood was down, and her cheek pressed against his warm neck. Also, his hand held gently against her lower back, his fingers grazing her midriff where her shirt had lifted during her epic tumble. He must have noticed he wasn’t screaming, so likely the cat was out of the bag.

Mor’s hands found her sides and he slowly pulled back. His gaze darted over her outfit, her relaxed, uncurled hair, her new flat shoes. Violet awaited her lecture about the cold iron, but he didn’t give one. Instead, he looked at her with a bothered face and said, “Who are those humans knocking on the front door of my cathedral?”

Ah. It was time he learned about her late afternoon betrayal from yesterday.

Three and a half minutes later, two high school students stood in the open cathedral doorway, peering in at the peculiar, creaky lobby floors, the antique emerald-green carpet up the staircase, and the high shelves lined with half-melted candles. They both clutched notebooks and suitcase bags.

This was the first time Violet was seeing them in person. Their interviews over the phone yesterday had been short but promising when she’d asked them a variety of questions that ranged from, “Are you squeamish about blood?” to “If you happened to meet a vampire in real life, would you be terrified or excited?”

“Remi and Jase, right?” Violet asked, clutching her hat tightly in her hands before her. “Am I remembering your names correctly?”

The guy and girl were only a few years younger than her, but Violet suddenly felt like she was a hundred years old as she waved them further into the cathedral. She warily turned to Mor. “These are our new interns!” she told him with as much enthusiasm as she could muster while melting beneath his silver-brown gaze.

Mor stared at the interns and said nothing for several seconds that felt like years. Violet was sure she was going to have a panic attack if he didn’t speak. Finally, he turned toward Violet and said, “Put on something discreet. Black, preferably.” He pulled his hood on over his head.

Violet blinked a few times over. “I don’t have anything black.”

“You have no garments that are black?” Mor folded his arms.

She shook her head. “You’re the one who packed my bag; you should know most of my clothes are pink, white, floral, or green. Not all of us want to dress like Masters of Doom, you know.”

He stifled an eye roll and headed out the front doors, brushing past the interns. “Come with me.”

The interns looked to Violet as if to ask, “Is he talking to us?”

Violet forced a smile. “The office is upstairs. I’ve added two new desks for you, so go make yourselves at home and get familiar with The Fairy Post style. I left all the past issues on your desks.”

The interns exchanged a look, and the girl shoved her glasses further up her nose. That was goodbye as Violet trotted down the cathedral stairs after Mor.

The doors slammed shut behind her, trapping the interns in, and Violet winced, wondering if she should mention to Mor that locking them in might frighten them the same way it had frightened her on her first day inside the gloomy building.

“Doom?” she asked as she followed him down the sidewalk. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going for bubble tea,” was all he said. The cape of his jacket fluttered behind him.

Violet had to run to keep up. This was the first time she’d heard Mor mention liking bubble tea. But she wanted to know how he felt about the interns, if he was secretly happy she’d taken initiative. Happy enough to want to keep her around forever. “Okay. Why? And are you really going dressed like that?”

“My jacket protects me,” he said. “Your clothes protect you, too, Human. I dragged them through a dandelion field before I brought them to the cathedral.”

Violet looked down at her outfit, thinking of the grassy smell.

Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out, seeing another message from Zorah. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought about what to say to her aunt. She’d been adding flourishing details about her work trip every time Zorah asked a question, trying to keep the conversation going every morning so that she knew Zorah was still alive and breathing. But it was only a matter of time before Zorah realized Violet was lying through her teeth.

“Just tell her the truth,” Mor said without looking back at her.

Violet blinked at the back of his head, positive he had eyes there. “Have you been reading my texts?” she asked, and he pulled one shoulder into a shrug.

“You don’t guard your phone well enough. It’s too easy.”

Violet halted, bringing Mor to a stop. He turned back and seemed to take in her folded arms, her scowl.

“First, that’s totally an invasion of my privacy,” she said. “Second, I can’t tell Zorah the truth about this because she would lose her mind if she learned about you fairy people. And third, you haven’t said a word about the two awesome interns I just hired to keep The Fairy Post running. You could at least say thank you, even if you’re not sold on the idea yet.”

“You’ve doomed them,” Mor stated plainly.

Violet huffed and started walking again, shoving past him a little. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Think what you like, Violet. You might be pleased with yourself now, but you’ll feel differently about it when those two humans are rotting corpses left for me to find on the cathedral stairs.”

Violet gagged on her own spit. She whirled, but Mor strode past her, taking the lead again. “Arm them with dandelion coats and cold iron daggers, at least,” he muttered. “All they have back there are ink pens and note-taking books.”

Violet shuddered and released a sigh. “You can do a lot more damage with a pen than you’d think,” she mumbled.

Mor snorted an almost-laugh. Then he reached back and took her hand—her bare hand—and the world around Violet turned to blurs of colour.

She landed on her feet beside a front porch. Mor marched up the stairs and knocked on a yellow-painted door. Violet’s eyes widened. “This is my house!” she said.

“Yes.” Mor waited.

The door swung open, and Zorah stood there with a spoon sticking out of her mouth and a half-eaten cup of yogurt in her hands.

“Apologies, Human. Violet is not on a work trip,” Mor stated to Zorah.

Violet gasped. She shoved him, but he barely moved. “You’re such a tattletale!”

“Yes. Most of the time,” Mor agreed. “I despise being forced to keep secrets unnecessarily.”

A metallic clang brought her attention to Zorah again where the spoon seemed to have fallen out of her mouth and now rested on the floor by her feet. Zorah’s jaw hung open as she stared at Mor.

Violet jumped into the house, shoved Zorah’s mouth shut, and pushed her aunt backward into the kitchen. “Don’t make a big deal of this, please, and yes, I was lying about the business trip thing but there’s a totally reasonable expl—”

“Is he your boyfriend?!” Zorah asked. She hadn’t looked away from Mor yet. She batted her eyelashes, making the mood weird.

Violet glanced back at the fairy to find a small, egotistical smile on his face. “Don’t be so flattered, you tattletale vampire,” she muttered in a whisper, and Mor’s smile fell, confirming he’d heard her from across the room.

“Is he the reason you’ve been sneaking around?” Zorah finally turned to Violet. “You have a boyfriend?”

“I—It’s not like—We’re not…” Violet dropped her head and looked at the crumbs on the floor. “Whatever. Yes, he’s my boyfriend.” She shrugged, casting Zorah a tight-lipped smile. It was as good a story as any, and one that Zorah would actually believe—

“No, I’m not,” Mor said from the door.

Violet huffed in disbelief. “I’m hiring more interns,” she threatened.

Mor smiled. “Go ahead,” he invited. “See how it ends for them.”

“Sorry, Zorah, but we really need to go.” Violet patted her aunt on the shoulder and marched for the front door, practically shoving Mor back out of the house with her body. “I’ll call you later!” she shouted back to her aunt.

“I’m not surprised you have a boyfriend, but he’s not the guy I expected you to bring home!” Zorah called after her with a grin. “What about that other handsome, bright-eyed guy I keep seeing you with?”

Mor’s hand flashed out and grabbed Violet’s arm, stilling her in the doorway.

Violet twisted back toward Zorah with a raised eyebrow. “What guy, Zor? I’m not seeing a guy.” She was intensely aware of Mor’s existence beside her. “I’m not seeing anybody.” She was also sure she was blushing.

Mor didn’t seem to notice. He strode into the house, approaching Zorah in the kitchen, appearing tenser than a moment ago. “What did you just say?” he asked in a serious voice. “You’re certain it was Violet you saw?”

Zorah snorted a laugh. “Um, yeah. I can recognize my niece from a mile away.”

Violet rushed to Mor’s side. “She’s totally making this up.” She forced a ridiculous laugh in a terrible, tacky attempt to convince him she wasn’t seeing anyone else. But the look on Mor’s face when he turned to her made her stomach drop.

“No. She’s not,” was all he said.

Zorah’s smile fell, too. “Sorry I blabbed in front of your boyfriend, Vi, but I thought I taught you better than to see two guys at once. That’s not okay.”

“I’m not seeing any guys!” Violet said in exasperation.

Zorah’s smirk returned. “Okay.” She seemed to forget she was scolding her niece, and she winked at Violet the moment Mor turned around and headed for the door. Violet released a huff and followed him outside, taking in Zorah’s eyebrow dance a second before she shut the door behind her.

The sounds of cars passing by filled Violet’s ears as she stood on the front steps of her house, trying to remember to breathe for a moment. The backs of her hands found her hot cheeks, but it did little to cool them down.

“I don’t know why my aunt said those things,” she said. “I don’t have a boyfriend—not that it’s any of your business, technically. And as if she thought you were my boyfriend. Horrifying.” She choked the last word out.

Mor studied her from where he stood at the bottom of the stairs. He seemed particularly interested in her flushed cheeks, in how she interlocked her fingers, and how she tapped her toes against the top stair. He sauntered up a step, his height bringing him eye-to-eye with her. “Does thinking about me being your lover frazzle you, Human?” he asked.

The simple words sent Violet’s heart into a new tempo.

Mor cracked a smile, making it clear he was both flattered and was messing with her.

Violet released the breath she was holding. Her hands formed fists at her sides as she shooed away her nerves. “Doesn’t the thought of being my boyfriend frazzle you, Mor? Even a little?”

Two could play this ridiculous game. Violet slid her hands into his hood and deep into his hair, making Mor flinch. She brought her face to his, their lips just a breath apart. She’d hardly been able to go near him when she was taking her iron, so the touch of her palms against his skin startled her more than she expected.

Mor’s lips peeled apart. His throat bobbed. “Violet,” he rasped in a whisper that sounded like a warning, or a plea, or some sort of pain, and her act faltered, her smile wavering.

She almost tore her hands back, almost said she was sorry for being stupid and unprofessional. But Mor grabbed her wrists before she could pull away. Violet held in a gasp as he came to the top step, pinning her wrists up beside her shoulders against the front door and forcing her to lean back. He brought his face in, and he kissed her.

He kissed her. Gradually. Deliberately.

Mor dropped her wrists and slid his fingers into her loose hair, shifting her hat off balance and sending it tumbling into the garden. He didn’t take his mouth off hers; he didn’t pull his body away. Violet’s chest pounded as she realized he didn’t want to.

She pulled her mouth off his and rasped out, “Mor.”

His body flexed; his hands went still. It was like he’d gotten lost for a moment and had just come slamming back into himself. He pulled his face back, his silver and brown eyes a brilliant shade of wild as he stared at her. She didn’t know the feeling of being looked at in a way that made her feel so… wanted. Loved, maybe. Needed. Like if she woke up in a forest tomorrow with no name and no memories, he would show up to claim her.

Violet was sure she’d lost her voice. His hands were warm where they were tangled into her hair. He looked back and forth between her eyes and inhaled.

“I…” he stuttered. His mouth formed the start of words he didn’t finish. “Queensbane…”

It didn’t seem real. Violet had to ask herself if this was a dream or a cruel joke. But nothing about the way he was looking at her felt pretend.

“Mor… do you want me as more than a secretary?” She somehow found the voice to ask. Her pulse doubled over as she feared the answer—either way. A second of silence passed by, and her knees threatened to tremble.

Mor dropped his hands and took a wide step back, landing halfway down the stairs. “It’s… complicated.”

Violet trotted down after him. “I’m not complicated. I’m as simple as it gets. If you want me as more than a secretary, you can take my heart, Mor.”

His eyes widened. “Stop, Violet.”

She didn’t know what had come over her, or why she was willing to say such things. She’d guarded her heart fiercely for ten years only to offer to toss it away to him now.

“I’ve been on my own for a long time. I haven’t belonged to anyone. I could belong to you.” She surprised herself again, but it was like once she started, she couldn’t stop. “I don’t want you to keep disappearing from me. I want to know what’s going on inside your head when you look at me like you are right now.”

She reached the bottom stair and Mor grabbed her wrist. He tugged her forward and put a hand over her mouth. “Stop, Violet,” he repeated. “I’m not the one you want this with.” He was far too serious to leave any hope behind.

A well emptied in Violet’s chest, draining out fast. She couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t even blink. Strain blanketed his face along with a flicker of fear that went away when he swallowed and composed himself.

“What you need to understand, Violet, is that Mor is not allowed to love. Everything touched by his heart will be destroyed.”Luc’s words in the alley danced through her mind. She wanted to yell at that redhead fairy right now.

Mor hesitated to remove his hand from her mouth, but when Violet said nothing for several seconds, he dropped his arm back to his side. “Let’s get bubble tea,” he said.

They were back in the wind in a heartbeat. Blurred colours turned sharp, and Violet found herself in front of the bubble tea shop. Cars passed where they stood in the parking lot. She looked around, worried people had seen two beings appear from thin air.

“You really shouldn’t teleport like that in public,” she mumbled at Mor. “You’re going to start rumours.”

Mor dug a hand into his pocket, keeping his gaze down. “I’ll get you anything you like. What kind of tea do you want?” he asked, pulling out a wallet that looked made of wood.

“Mor,” Violet whispered. At his name, Mor stopped fidgeting with his pocket change. He didn’t look up. “You can’t possibly believe that you’re not allowed to love,” Violet said. A coin tumbled from Mor’s hand and rolled down the sidewalk.

“Violet,” he said again, this time with warning.

“If you’re so afraid of your enemies catching up with you, we can keep it a secret.”

Mor shut his mouth. He blinked at the asphalt in the direction of his lost coin. When he lifted his gaze to her, his mouth was tight at the corners. “Don’t tempt me. I’ve hardly got any control with you as it is.” Violet’s mouth parted. “Don’t you understand? You’re already doomed, simply for being in my company. Getting feelings involved will only make it worse.”

They stared at each other, both refusing to break eye contact until a passing car honked.

Mor took in a deep breath. “I’ll get one of everything,” he said, turning for the bubble tea shop.

“Mor.” She stopped him one last time. “Are you treating me to bubble tea because you’re going to send me away today?”

Mor didn’t reply, answering her question well enough. Violet’s lungs grew tight. She’d just hung her heart out in front of him, and he’d been planning to kick her out the whole time. She nodded, her only response as Mor continued into the tea shop.

Violet released a strained breath, slapping both hands over her face and feeling the weight of her words pulling her toward the ground. That seed of fear—the gutting dread of being cast out again—sprouted within her from the shallow place she’d tried to bury it.

When she dropped her hands, someone was standing in front of her. Or so she thought, but she blinked, and he was gone. Her eyes fired up; the clouds in the sky had jumped—appearing in new places. The wind seemed to have started and stopped suddenly, too. Almost like someone had pushed a pause button on her and the rest of the world had kept moving for a moment.

Violet whirled, scanning the crowds moving down the street. She caught sight of a scarlet-haired figure among them, sliding a ruby into his pocket as he walked. She took a step after him, but Luc was marching away at a graceful, inhuman speed and was already too far off to yell after.

The dizziness returned like a punch. Violet grabbed her forehead and winced, cursing her anemia for having terrible timing. But her iron deficiency felt like the least of her worries as she scanned the groups of people, no longer seeing any traces of Luc. For a moment, she debated if he’d even really been there.

Mor came out of the bubble tea shop with a tray of four different tea flavours. He slowed his walk as he reached her, sniffing the air and tugging his brows together.

“Mor,” Violet said. “I think I just saw Luc. I think…”

The flashes of him there and gone.

The clouds snapping into different places.

The feeling of the wind changing in a split second.

“I think I may have spoken with him,” she rasped.

Mor dropped the bubble teas. They splattered over the parking lot as he took her shoulders and looked her over. “Queensbane, Violet, has this has happened before?” The way he asked made her wonder if he already knew the answer.

Violet swallowed, thinking of Zorah’s comment about seeing her around with another guy. “I don’t know.”

Mor released a heavy breath, an anguished expression twisting his face as he turned her away from the bubble tea shop and ducked them between two parked trucks. “It has. At the bus stop, and in the alley, and likely other times when you didn’t even know you met him. He’s been doing this for a while.”

Sickness filled Violet’s stomach as she realized. All those times she’d met Luc, he’d made her forget part of it. She pressed a hand against her chest when it felt too tight to breathe.

It had happened again. She’d had memories stolen again—and this time she had no idea how many or from when.

“Mor…” she rasped as her hands began to shake, as her heartbeat elevated. As a fresh wave of terror coursed through her veins. “It doesn’t make sense,” she said. “He never tried to kill me… right?”

Mor’s hand came out toward her, but he hesitated and dropped it back to his side. He squeezed it into a fist, his body rigid. “No. But he kept coming back,” Mor said. “Encounters are different with foxes. Any number of things could have happened. But he didn’t want you to remember—as if he was worried I would find out if I looked into your mind. So, he was after something.”

“What could he possibly be after with me?” Violet hugged her arms to herself.

“Queensbane, I don’t know. But if he’s still coming back to you, I imagine he didn’t get it yet.” Mor finally took her hands. “What I do know is he’s doing this because of me. You need to leave me alone. And I can’t send you to Shayne anymore because I need him now. So, you’ll have to go to the Sisterhood.”

“Mor—”

“I’ll take you back to the cathedral first. Fire the interns. Pack your things. I’m not sure how much time we have,” he said, closing his eyes and dropping his head. “Take The Fairy Post firm with you. You can have it.”

“No.” The statement was simple. “I’m your secretary, Mor,” she objected with half accusation, half insistence.

Her words brought his face up slowly, and in it, Violet saw a strange monster she hardly recognized. A hardness covered his gaze, his expression sending nausea rolling through her stomach. It was like he’d turned into something else in the blink of an eye.

“Are you?” he asked, taking a step back. “Are you my secretary, Violet Miller? Apart from writing a few mediocre articles that are utterly bland and read like poor fiction, and causing me more trouble, what have you done?”

His words rang in her ears, and she closed her mouth. It was a cold punch to her gut—the one thing she dreaded hearing—and he’d said it. If Mor wanted to cut her confidence off at the knees, he’d done it well. Those words would haunt her.

Violet slid her jaw to the side. “Don’t send me away. I need this job,” she said, quieter this time. Though, this hardly had anything to do with The Fairy Post anymore.

“No, you need coin. The Fairy Post will give you plenty of that,” Mor stated. He opened and closed his mouth like he was deciding exactly how to put his next words. He swallowed, he hardened his jaw, then he looked her dead in the eyes. “I don’t want you as more than a secretary, and after that outburst of your feelings earlier, I don’t think I even want you as that anymore. Apart from that one disgraceful moment of curiosity on your porch stairs, I don’t have any interest in having your heart. We needed each other in the beginning, but now I don’t need you anymore. I’m relieved you’re leaving so you can stop getting in my way.”

Violet was quiet through his speech. She waited with her arms folded. Waited, as his words burned over her skin. Waited.

And then she smiled with tears in her eyes. Smiled, because she was sure that was the biggest, most pathetic lie he’d ever told. Tears, because a small fragment of her worried certain parts of it were true. He’d always pushed her away, he’d looked horrified when she’d suggested they love in secret. He’d been planning to send her away all morning, and she’d babbled on about how she felt, like an idiot. The thin layer holding back her seed of fear finally snapped, and the weight of abandonment settled in, filling her chest with coldness. She was sure she would never look at Mor warmly again.

“I hate you,” she reminded him quietly. “I hate all fairies. I hate the games, and the memory stealing, and the manipulation. You have nothing to worry about. It’s easy to stop caring about you.” Violet swallowed. “You owe me a paycheck for the work I’ve done,” she said from a thick throat.

Mor folded his arms. “I’ll pay you another way, Human.” Not Violet, Human. “What do you want from me?” He waited, and when Violet didn’t answer fast enough, he went on, “Do you want me to try and find who you were in your past? Do you want to learn who you really are, Violet Miller? Do you want me to go into your mind and attempt to locate whatever’s left of the memories from the years you lost and give them back to you so you can see them? Will that satisfy you enough to part ways?”

A streak of realization made something squeeze in her chest. “You can… find my memories?” He’d never told her that. In all their time side by side, he’d never once mentioned he had the ability to give her back the one thing she’d lost. The one thing she craved.

“Maybe not,” he stated. “It depends on the skill of the fairy who stole them. It’s a difficult feat, but I’m special. If the fairy left any threads of the memories behind, I may be able to start from the day you woke up and work backward—if there’s anything left.” He came back toward her, rolling up his sleeves. It was all business to him. He hardly looked her in the eyes as he lifted his hands. “This is my parting gift to you for the work you’ve done for me so far, Human. There’s no reason for us to see each other again after this.”

She didn’t move away, so he placed his fingers along her temples.

Instantly, Violet’s mind filled with a different day, with new surroundings from another time. Her eyes opened like she was really there, and she saw the same forest. A gasp escaped her as she recalled that moment, ten years ago, when she first woke up in the purple dress. A strange panic returned at the familiar smell of cotton candy and earthy tea. She heard the wind rustling the leaves above. Saw the bright light soaking the backs of the leaves and turning them fluorescent. She almost felt her stomach flexing with the motion of sitting up. She looked down at her violet dress and summer shell sandals.

Mor’s fingers tightened ever so slightly on her temples in real time.

Violet watched her memory unfold of how she climbed to her feet and looked around the forest. How she started running toward the distant sound of cars. How she came out of the trees on the cusp of a city and stopped in front of a modest news building with a glass storefront.

How she stared at her reflection in the windows, not even recognizing herself.

Mor ripped his hands away. He staggered back, breathing heavily as he looked at Violet with wide eyes like he was seeing a ghost.

Violet’s mind spun so fast from his exit, she teetered. Her hands couldn’t catch anything to steady herself as dizziness rushed in, and she tumbled toward the ground. She was hardly aware of him catching her. One single memory slipped in as everything went black.