Wicked Lovely (Wicked Lovely 1) - Page 60

“That wasn’t what it was,” he snapped. “Aislinn and I danced and celebrated her new life. It wasn’t a seduction.”

She stepped out from under her awning, sending her guards scurrying to keep it over her as she moved. If they failed, they’d suffer, regardless of whose fault it was.

As the shade blocked his comforting rays, Keenan was torn between waiting and simply setting the awning to flame. He stood to face her.

“Well, if you want my opinion, a mother’s wisdom, I say she’s not worth it.” She glanced at the flowers; they froze in her sight. She stepped forward and—with a grating noise—ground them under her boot. “Poor Deborah shouldn’t have any trouble convincing her to stay away from you. You didn’t ask her to go easy on the mortal, did you?”

“It’s Aislinn’s choice. She’ll either take up the staff or not.” He wanted to tell her that threatening Donia wouldn’t change anything, but he couldn’t. “I spoke to Donia—which you so obviously know—about the Eolas’ announcement.”

“Oh?” She paused, wide-eyed as if she were surprised. “What announcement?”

“That Aislinn is special.”

“Of course she is, sweetling. They’re all special—at least the first few nights. After that, the”—she looked back at a cowering sprite—“novelty just isn’t there, you know?”

He forced a laugh.

“Poor Delilah, I imagine she’s bitter. It wasn’t so long ago that she was the one dancing with you.” Beira swayed as if she were dancing with an invisible partner, looking elegant even though she was alone. “Mortals are such fragile things. Just tender feelings walking around exposed in their delicate shells…Easy to crush.”

His heart sped. The rules prevented her from contacting the mortal girl, and until now Beira’d never broken that rule—to the best of his knowledge—but she was already breaking other rules. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, love.” She stopped and curtsied to him, pulled out a fan, and fluttered it in front of her face, sending cold air toward him. “I’m just wondering if you should pick another girl for the game; let this one join the rest of the other discarded girls. I’ll even go girl-watching with you. We could pick up Delia and make a bonding experience of it.”

He let all the bitterness he felt show in his voice and said, “Well, at the rate Donia’s going, I may need to. Aside from one drunken dance, I’m getting nowhere.”

“There’ll be other girls, darling.” Beira sighed, but her eyes glimmered with a sheen of ice—a sure sign she was pleased.

But they aren’t the Summer Queen, are they?

“Perhaps I just need to try harder,” he said as he sent a hot breath toward Beira’s awning—catching it on fire—then he walked away, leaving her there shrieking at the guards to keep the sunlight away from her.

Someday I’ll truly be able to stand against her.

For now, he took pleasure in the moment.

Keenan wandered the city, up Fifth Avenue away from the river until he got to Edgehill, following it until he reached the seedier shops. The din of the city was a welcome buzz, reminding him of the mortals who thrived where his kind could not.

That’s what this is all about: these mortals and his summer faeries.

“Keenan?” Rianne stepped out of a music store and all but ran into him. She gaped at him. “What’s up with your hair?”

In his distraction, he had been walking around plainly visible, his hair its normal shade, reflective copper.

“Dye.” He smiled at her, lightening his hair until the metallic glimmer was gone.

She reached out and caught a few strands, holding it up to the sunlight, moving it from side to side. “For a minute it almost looked like strips of metal.”

“Hmm.” He pulled back, freeing his hair from her hand. “Have you seen Aislinn today?”

She laughed. “Nope. Thought maybe she was still with you.”

“No.” He looked beyond Rianne, to where several of the Summer Girls were flirting with an off-duty rowan-man. “I escorted her home this morning.”

“Morning, huh?” She shook her head, still smiling. For all of her posturing, she smelled like innocence to him, untouched and sweet. Her words were at complete odds with her attitude. “I knew you were a good bet.”

“We were just dancing.”

“It’s a start, right?” She glanced around, looking down the street and back inside the shop. For a moment her illusory lasciviousness vanished, and her genuine personality slipped through. “Between you and me, Ash could use a bit more fun in her life. She’s too serious. I think you’ll be good for her.”

Tags: Melissa Marr Wicked Lovely Fantasy
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