Chapter 7

"Ihave a question."

To be fair, Alex had a lot of questions lately.

Bayodan hummed, not looking up from his book. It was clear he could read and carry on a conversation without missing a beat from either, so she didn't take it personally. It turned out that watching HBO wasn't his thing—but it was very much Cruinn's.

The shapeshifter was sitting on the floor, absent-mindedly petting Pumpkin who was curled up in their lap.

But that wasn't to say that Bayodan was bored. Hardly. He had found the stack of hysterically boring finance and law books that had belonged to the previous owner of the condo. Bayodan seemed intent on devouring them all, seemingly finding them perfectly fascinating.

There was one day left of her week-long stay of execution. Come nightfall, she'd be back in Tir n'Aill, getting tortured. By Izael. But at least it won't be Valroy? She didn't know which would be worse. No that wasn't true. She did. Valroy. Valroy would be much worse.

Or, no, maybe it'd be Izael. Simply because the betrayal involved would hurt her more than the physical pain.

She sighed. She had to ask the question carefully. Why am I a threat to the peace between the fae? Why is my magic so dangerous? She knew she was powerful, but she wasn't that powerful. Not like Valroy. Or hell, probably a slew of other fae. But she couldn't ask that. Neither of her Unseelie babysitters knew anything about her magic. And she had to keep it that way.

"What does the treaty actually say?"

Bayodan glanced up from his book. "I did not figure you as one for enjoying the finer details of contract law."

"I don't. But seeing as it affects me, I should probably know." She pulled her knees up to her chest, putting her feet on the chair cushion and hugging her legs to herself. She hadn't really done that since she was a kid. But she felt very small. "If I'm going to get tortured into wishing it away, I want to know exactly what I'm destroying. And Izael wouldn't tell me the details."

"Likely because he does not know them." Bayodan placed a piece of ribbon in the book, marking his place, before shutting it. "He is not a fool as so many would paint him, but neither is he…eh…"

"Sane enough to focus?"

He chuckled. "Precisely."

Alex smiled faintly. "I'm gonna miss hanging out with you, Goatula."

"And I you. Hopefully, should all things end well, this will not be a goodbye this evening." He set the book on the coffee table in front of him. "I have enjoyed this respite."

"What about me?" Cruinn asked, smiling sweetly at her, lips made of the shattered fragmented glass they were composed of. It was clear that Cruinn was still not quite right in the head after what Valroy had done to them hundreds of years ago. Now and then, there was just a…well, blank, glossy look to their features, as their mind struggled to function. But Bayodan assured her that Cruinn was healing, if slowly.

"You're awesome too, Disco Ball." She smiled warmly at the shapeshifter.

"Good!" Cruinn turned their attention back to the TV. "Even if I don't understand what you're calling me."

"It's not an insult, just a silly nickname." Alex was going to miss them both. A lot.

"That's all I care about." Cruinn went back to petting Pumpkin.

"The treaty has a few clauses," Bayodan began. "First, it states that no fae, be they Seelie or Unseelie, may act against the other unless it is in self-defense, or if it is an unwanted trespass."

"Like an Unseelie being out and about in Tir n'Aill during the day." She still felt like a total asshole for having plant-ified those six guards. They still felt dead to her, even if Abigail hadn't seemed that upset.

"Correct. If an Unseelie were to act directly against the Seelie, the treaty states that Valroy would be forced to surrender his throne, and vice versa." Bayodan studied one of the oil paintings on the wall. It was a stuffy-looking, antique landscape piece.

Alex thought it was heinously uninteresting, but it was probably an original and therefore expensive. "And who makes sure that happens?"

"The gods. Not even Valroy or Abigail would stand against their will. All pacts made by the fae are—shall we say underwritten?—by those far older and more powerful than we." Bayodan smirked. "Even if Valroy fancies himself a deity in his own right."

She huffed a laugh. "No shit."

"Another portion of the treaty states that no fae may set foot on Earth. This was why Izael's travel was forbidden," Bayodan continued. "But once the contract was agreed to between you two, it could not be broken. A willing contract with a mortal was not explicitly banned. Perhaps it should have been."

"Is Izael going to be punished for breaking that clause of the treaty?"

"Hm. Doubtful. That clause was to be upheld by their respective monarchs. I doubt Valroy is terribly upset by this turn of events." Bayodan shrugged. "A loophole, if you will."

Fucking fae. She sighed. "And was there anything else to the treaty?"

"That the only way to end the treaty would be by mortal hands." Bayodan's expression grew sullen and dark. "And lo, we come to your importance in all this."

Only a human can end the treaty. And no fae can attack the other. But a human with wacky fae magic doesn't fall under that umbrella. That was why her magic was such a big deal. If Valroy made her attack the Seelie, it'd be an act of war that the Seelie could defend against. Poof. No more treaty. Just a series of "it's self-defense" that would quickly turn into all-out war and genocide.

This was all making her exhausted. She put her forehead down on her knees. "This fucking sucks."

"That, it does. I do not envy you, my dear. I do not envy you in the least."

"Maybe I should just go jump off the roof. Kill myself. That'd solve the problem, right?" Not like she particularly wanted to die. No, she very much liked not being dead. But if Death-By-Seelie wasn't an option, maybe Death-By-Splat should be at least considered.

"I would recommend against it for two reasons. One, I would rather not see you put yourself through such an ordeal." Bayodan reached out and placed his hand atop her head, stroking her hair. "Second, if you think Izael is above resorting to necromancy to have you, you are severely underestimating how covetous that snake can be."

Looking up, she grimaced. "Ew. Seriously? Hard pass, thanks." That was all she needed—being a zombie on top of everything else.

Bayodan chuckled. "I thought as much." His smile faded. "I wish I could give you proper counsel. I assume you have not yet settled upon your opinion of the Duke of Bones?"

Yeah. That. "No. I haven't." It was too complicated. Too mixed up in everything else. And no amount of drinking or navel-gazing over the course of the week had done anything to help her figure it out. "But I'll keep trying to sort it out." She glanced at the clock. "For the eight hours I have until sundown, and he starts peeling my flesh off with a cheese grater."

"I doubt he would do such a thing."

She shot Bayodan a look.

He shrugged. "He is not the kind to cause permanent visual harm to his playthings. Whatever pain he causes you will leave no long-lasting damage in such a way as that."

"That was not as reassuring as you think it was." She groaned and put her head back down on her knees. "Not in the slightest."

"Mm. I suppose I see your point."

"Can I go for a walk on my own this time?" She stretched her legs. "I promise I won't fuck off or get abducted by aliens."

"As you wish. But do—eh—call—if you are in need." He picked up the burner phone she bought Cruinn and Bayodan for their week stay on Earth. Mostly because she was sick of them lurking. Now they could just text her if they wanted to know why she was in the bath for so long.

That had been a very awkward few minutes of her screaming and throwing things as they did their best to duck out of the bathroom.

Fucking fae.

Never mind the fact they'd offered to join her through the door. While she was extremely aware of the fact that the fae all slept with each other frequently and that it really wasn't a big deal to them, she really didn't feel like getting into a three-way with the bizarre couple. Nor did she particularly want to add to the reasons Izael was going to use to justify torturing her.

"Nobody uses a phone to call anymore. It's only for text." She stood and grabbed her light coat, slipping her phone into her pocket. "I know it doesn't make any sense, but that's how it goes these days."

"Humans." Bayodan picked his book back up. "You will forever confound and fascinate me."

"You can take the books when the day's over, by the way." Alex glanced at the collection that ran along the walls of the living room. "It's not like I'm going to be here, and Pumpkin can't read."

Bayodan chuckled. "That you know of."

Pumpkin yawned, but "said" nothing in return. She was happy that the animal didn't really "talk" much, preferring to communicate by pushing things off surfaces or simply doing whatever he wanted. Cats.

Alex headed toward the door. "I'll be back in forty-five minutes or so. If I'm not back in an hour, I don't know, avenge my death." She shook her head with a smile. "Which is a joke, by the way." That's the last thing she needed.

"As you wish." Bayodan was already engrossed in his reading again.

She shut the door behind her and let out a breath. It was a dreary, gray day. One of those days that the fog rolled in and stayed in, protected from the sun by the clouds. It made the air misty and damp.

It was as bleak as her mood.

Because everything was just slightly moist, she wasn't exactly going to go sit on a bench. So she opted for a circuit around the common, hands shoved into her coat pockets, and doing her best to ignore the world.

After this, she'd be back with Izael. He'd torture her. Sure, maybe he'd bring her back during the daylight hours like their contract stated, but she knew she wasn't going to get a break from the pain.

And if it wasn't Izael, it'd be Valroy.

Her options were thin. She wanted to wish it all away—wish that she'd never made the contract with Izael in the first place. That, she really did want. But after that? She still didn't know.

How depressing was that? Everybody had a wish. Everybody. But not her.

"'Sup."

Alex yelped in surprise, jumping a foot in the air. A few strangers glanced at her, but quickly went on their merry way.

She shoved the culprit. "Fuck you, Puck."

"Later?" He batted his eyes, smiling sweetly.

"Stop doing that." She shoved him again. "Drives me up a wall."

"Hah. That reminds me of a joke—a pirate captain walks into a bar, a ship's wheel attached to his crotch." Puck mimed steering a wheel in front of him. "Bartender looks at him, and goes, ‘What's with the wheel?'"

Alex shut her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose, and prayed for patience.

"The captain looks at him and goes, ‘Yaarrrr, it's driving me nuts!'" Puck cackled at his own joke.

"That was terrible." She kept walking down the path.

"I know. Isn't it great?" Puck jogged to catch up with her, falling in step beside her, lacing his arm through hers. "Where're we going?"

"Nowhere."

"My favorite." He smiled, looking perfectly content like they were just on a leisurely stroll on a sunny day.

"What do you want, Puck?"

"I wanted to see how my favorite mortal witch was doing, that's all. Seeing as it's the last day of your vacation." He hugged her arm tighter.

"I'm miserable, thanks for asking." She'd shove him off her, but there wasn't a point. He was like a hyperactive puppy. One, she suspected he couldn't help it. And two, she knew even if he could, he wouldn't want to.

"Well, then, I come with good news that might cheer you up. I don't think Izael is planning on torturing you anymore. See? Isn't that nice?" Puck grinned.

"Why not?"

"Well, see, Abigail has threatened Valroy within an inch of his life—or rather, with a few years sleeping on the proverbial sofa—if he screws with you during the remainder of your contract with Izael. So, if Valroy isn't going to torture you, then Izael has no reason to."

"Yeah. Great. Love it. Thanks." She rolled her eyes. That was a bit of a relief. But something told her it wasn't that simple. "What terrible thing is about to happen to me instead?"

"Mmm, nothing too bad. I promise."

"I don't believe you."

"Suit yourself." Puck shrugged. "Izael won't hurt you. He's got it bad for you. He loves you."

Her jaw ticked. Her mood was only worsening, and she was honestly rather glad that the weather seemed to be matching it. All she needed now was for it to start pouring. "Yeah."

"That's…all you've got to say? Yeah?" Puck blinked.

"Yup."

There was a beat of silence before Puck clearly couldn't take the hint. "But how do you feel about h?—"

"I don't know!" She yanked her arm out of his grasp. Her patience wasn't lasting. "I don't know, okay? Christ. You and Bayodan. You're obsessed."

"Love is a big deal in our world. It's rare. Everything else comes and goes. I suppose that does, too. But when love does bloom, we care." Puck frowned and walked beside her again, this time keeping his hands to himself.

"Cruinn keeps making that face old people make when they see a young couple in love." Alex combed her hands through her purple hair, pushing it away from her face. "I enjoy spending time with Izael when he isn't trying to steal my soul or threatening to torture me. Do I love him? I don't know. There's too much going on. He eats people. He wants to steal my goddamn soul. And he wants to use me to end a treaty that is the only thing protecting both the Seelie and Earth. There's too much at stake to have fucking feelings for him."

She threw up her hands in frustration, finishing yet another rant. "And I know that's so hard for you all to understand, but it's the way it is!"

"Yikes." Puck laughed once. "Fine, I'll stop asking. Sheesh." He muttered something about moody humans under his breath. She let it slide. "I did come with bad news also, though."

There it was. The other shoe. "The good news is, I'm not going to get tortured. And in exchange…?"

"You need to willingly surrender your magic. Because when you lose your bet with Izael?—"

"If."

"When you lose your bet with Izael," Puck continued unfazed, "and your soul belongs to an Unseelie, Valroy can use you to end the treaty anyway. He doesn't know this yet, but he will, the moment you slip up and turn somebody into a rutabaga."

"If I give up my magic, I'm defenseless against Izael—I'd just be his mortal puppet." She grimaced. "At least like this, I can stop Izael from doing anything terrible to me. Or anyone else, for that matter."

"What, don't trust the fae?" Sarcasm dripped from his tone, even if he was smiling beatifically. "I can't imagine why!"

"But if giving up my magic saves the world, then…" If she had been willing to die for it, this couldn't be as bad. She'd be alive. She'd be a toy for the fae, but that's what she got for making a stupid deal with them. At least the sex is gonna be great. She shoved that thought back into the dumpster fire it crawled out of. "Unless I win. If I win the bet, I get to keep my magic, and my soul."

"Think you can win? Think you really don't have a single wish? You can't lie about it, y'know. Not even to yourself." Puck gave her a wry side-eyed glance. "And you're very good at lying to yourself."

"I am not lying to myself about anything."

"Mm-hmm…" Puck blinked out of existence and reappeared on her other side, making her jump. "And anyway, do you really want to risk it? If you're wrong and you lose, you end two worlds. Better to just get rid of your magic to be safe. Right?"

Her jaw was twitching again. He was right. He really was. But it felt wrong. I finally have something about me that matters. Something about me that makes me unique. And strong. Not just a failed singer, barista, and shitty witch. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had a place in the world at large that was special.

But logic dictated that it wasn't worth it. That she wasn't worth it.

Shutting her eyes, she let out a heavy sigh. "I'll give up my magic." At least that would simplify things.

And the last thing she needed right now was for anything to make this more complicated.