Suzanne Lazear - Charmed Vengeance

Steven clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a stronger man than I.”

“Am I?” James flashed him a grateful look. “You’re the smart one; I’m just the funny, cute, charming one.”

He laughed. “You are the better swordsman.”

“True.” James signaled the serving girl for a drink. The girl in the birdcage changed songs, this one in some other mortal language.

Mathias strode over to them. “Stiofán, Séamus, were you successful?”

Steven patted the bundle in the chair. “Yes, we were. Now, to get this back—which is why we’re here. We’re hoping you can direct us to the nearest safe portal back to the Otherworld. We didn’t want to simply bumble all over New York only to use someone’s private portal which could take us to who-knows-where.”

Mathias joined them at the table, not seeming as jolly as he had last time.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t bring you a gift,” Steven added.

He shook his head. “It’s all right, Tiny will live.”

The hound’s name was Tiny? Even as pups Fae hounds weren’t tiny.

The serving girl set drinks before them all. Mathias picked his up and held it, examining the contents in the light of the gas chandelier. “That’s prudent. Most portals here are private. I’m also glad you stopped by.”

Mathias’ words made Steven’s blood run cold. “Something’s wrong.”

“Someone’s trying to get you a message.” Mathias took a long drink. “Do you know someone named Captain Vix?”

“Noli.” It came out like a half-choked noise.

James thumped him on the back. “We know her. What’s the message?”

“Wait—how did Vix know where to find us?” Steven’s heart raced. Noli. Something had to be wrong with Noli.

“Um, Hattie probably told Vix where we were going, oh, and I may have told Hattie she could leave me a message here.” James’ cheeks pinked.

Steven put his head in his hand. “You’re impossible.”

“Do you want to hear the message or not?” Mathias’ voice tinged with gentle annoyance.

“Of course, please.” Steven wrapped his hands around his glass.

“It’s a very simple message. Noli’s ill. Come to Boston.” He appraised them. “I have a feeling that’s not good news.”

All the blood drained out of his face. “No, it’s not.”

That could explain why he hadn’t been able to find her last night when he’d dream searched. Noli was ill. Ill enough that Vix, who despised him, sent word. But why?

Something seemed to be missing here. Still, they had to travel to Boston. Immediately.

“I appreciate you delivering the message.” Shaking, Steven stood.

“Focus, V. We’re so close.” James put a hand on his arm. “I think it’s odd that I’m the one who keeps telling you to stay on task. Anyhow, why don’t we take this to the queen, then find Noli, just like we planned.”

Steven didn’t believe his ears. “She’s ill enough for Vix, who did this,” he pointed to the shiner on his face, “to send word. Something’s wrong.”

“I care about Noli, too, but we’re nearly finished.”

“There’s a public portal near Boston. Why don’t you check on her, then continue on with your quest,” Mathias suggested, taking another drink.

The sensibility of Mathias’ suggestion startled him. “Yes, that sounds like a very sound plan.” He looked to James. “Don’t you think?”

James stood. “I think that should work.”

“Good.” Mathias checked his pocket watch. “If you hurry you can still catch the train.”

Checking to make sure the magical protections on the place still held, Kevighn entered a familiar clearing. They’d held, but he didn’t follow the path to his familiar wooden cabin. No, he went around back to Creideamh’s gardens. All Magnolia’s hard work had gone to seed as once again everything around him ran wild, a cacophony of green and growth.

A pink rose among the tangle caught his attention. His fingers caressed petals soft as silk. Magnolia. She’d be so happy here, with the gardens, roses, and the faerie tree.

He crossed into the woods where Creideamh’s grove and tree house lay. Thank the Bright Lady Ciarán used his own magic to keep the grove from disappearing when he was banished. Gazing up at the giant faerie tree, he studied the tree house in its branches, formed of the tree itself. Creideamh’s laughter practically echoed through the clearing.

So did Noli’s.

A glowing ball of purple tugged on his hair.

“Hello, to you, too.” He held out his finger for the tiny wood faery to perch on. “I’ve just come to get a few things, but I’ll return.” Ever since Creideamh’s death he’d come and gone, doing his work as huntsman. It would probably be the same with Ciarán, only he much preferred the joviality of The Thirsty Pooka to the formality of the high palace.

The wood faery flew off in a flutter of translucent wings and he climbed into the tree house, more wood faeries watching him curiously, but not denying him entrance. Closing his eyes, he tried to picture his sister.

All he saw was sweet Magnolia, who’d loved this place just as much.

When he opened his eyes, ghosts of his little blossom lurked everywhere. The basket and Creideamh’s dress lay discarded on the floor from the last time he’d been within. The dress Magnolia had been wearing when he’d tried to seduce her at the high queen’s command.

He picked them both up and returned to the house. The basket went in the kitchen, the dress in Creideamh’s room. Kevighn looked around the room, which still smelled of Magnolia—of dirt, roses, and those berries she liked.

In the front room, he went to his cache of weapons on the wall and wrapped his hands around a bow he’d made long ago for one specific purpose. He grabbed a quiver of arrows, sliding a special arrow within, one with Quinn the Fair’s name literally carved into the shaft. He threw the quiver and bow over his shoulder and slid a knife in his boot.

After all these years revenge was so close he could taste it.

Kevighn gave the cabin one last glance. “Creideamh, by the Bright Lady, I’ll avenge you. I promise.”

Steven and James walked up the tree-lined path of the giant, white mansion with its wide porch and columns. The grand neighborhood was quiet, without the bustle of flying cars, hoverboards, and such. However, the walk was so long he wished he had his hoverboard.

“Now this is a house,” James whistled.

Lights flickering in one of the windows caught Steven’s eye. Which was Noli’s?

They climbed the steps and Steven knocked on the door, glad they’d cleaned up and changed. However, he still carried the blanket-wrapped automaton, which he set on the porch swing for the moment.

The door opened and a very old butler peered out. “May I help you?”

“Yes, we’re here to see Magnolia Braddock,” Steven replied.

“I’m sorry, but Miss Noli is unwell, would you like to leave a card?” He looked as if he might fall over at any moment.

“Is Mrs. Braddock here? We’re her neighbors back in Los Angeles.” Not only did Steven not have a calling card, but he didn’t have time for such niceties.

The elderly butler shook his head. “I’m sorry, but Miss Edwina is out. Would you like to leave a card?”

“Is Jeff or Vix here? Please, we’ve come a long way.” And still had far to go.

His wrinkled face scrunched in thought. “I do think Mr. Jeffrey and Miss Victoria are in residence. However, given Miss Noli’s health, I’m not sure if they’re accepting callers. Do you wish for me to check?”

“Victoria?” James snorted.

Steven shot his brother a look. Victoria was a fine name. “Please. I’m Steven Darrow and this is my brother James.”

The old butler shuffled off, leaving the door half open and them standing on the porch, breaths making frozen clouds in the late afternoon chill.

“That is one old butler,” Jeff laughed as the two of them shivered in the cold.

“Oh, I think Jameson left the door open again,” a female voice called. A brunette, older than Noli but younger than Mrs. Braddock, came to close the door. Her brown eyes widened and her mouth formed an “o” of surprise when she saw them. “Oh, there are callers on the porch. May I help you?”

“We’re friends of Noli and Jeff’s, Jameson is checking to see if Jeff’s accepting visitors.” Steven hoped she let them in. At least it wasn’t snowing.

The uniformed maid gave them a warm smile. “You’ll have to forgive Jameson, he’s a little … elderly. Why don’t you wait in the parlor where it’s warm?” She ushered them into a sumptuous parlor that looked as if it were used far more for feminine meetings than male ones. “Would you like some tea?”

Steven nodded, the heat curling around them like welcoming arms. “That would be splendid.”

She bustled off.

Jeff hustled over to the fire to warm his hands. “This is nice.”

“Noli’s mother’s from a very good old family.” Steven took a seat on the floral armchair closest to the fire. A large piano stood in the corner. On the wall hung several framed portraits, including one of Noli as a little girl, a large bow in her hair.

“Steven, what in tarnation are you doing here?” Jeff strode into the parlor, a puzzled look on his face. “I asked him.” Vix joined Jeff and took his arm. The fierce airship captain looked elegant in a long, flowing dress, much simpler than anything Noli wore, but better suited to her.

Jeff stared at her in disbelief, eyes bulging. “You did? Why?”

Vix frowned at James. “What exactly are you looking at?”