Wicked Lovely (Wicked Lovely 1)

Where I could wallow in my grief.

He’d lost his sister, seen Irial stabbed, and had no word from his father. In truth, he wasn’t sure if he would, either. The gate between Faerie and the mortal world was sealed now. It wasn’t that Rabbit wanted to go to that world, but he wasn’t sure what he was to do here in Faerie. I need to try to move on. That means doing something. That was who he was: he took care of things, people, tasks. It had been more than a decade since he was without a responsibility. You do have a responsibility. He looked at the Shadow Queen, his baby sister, and smiled. She still needed him. That much was clear.

So stop this, he reminded himself.

“I was thinking about building a few tattoo machines. No one tattoos here, but the High Court and Shadow Court are filled with faeries who love art.” Rabbit stepped away from Ani and opened a squat, dingy white refrigerator that was covered with stickers for old-school punk bands. He pulled out a pitcher of iced tea. “I could open a shop here.”

“That’s wonderful!” Ani sat at the garish lime-green kitchen table and watched him as he dropped ice cubes into two jelly jars that served as drinking glasses.

The ice popped as he poured the tea in, and he paused. The tea he had just removed from the refrigerator was warm.

Why?

He opened the fridge; it was still working.

“Did you make the tea?” he asked.

His sister shook her head and Rabbit raised his hand. “Don’t drink it.”

After taking the glass from her and emptying both glasses, Rabbit walked out of the kitchen and into the tiny living room. It was empty. He checked the bedroom, bathroom, studio, and even the patio. No one else was here.

The side door, however, was wide open.

Cautiously, he stepped outside and heard the artist’s voice. “You’re late.”

“Late?” he asked.

“Possibly early.” The artist gave him a once-over, and then she frowned. “I find your timeliness troubling tonight.”

“Oh.” Rabbit looked around. Although he saw no one else, he still asked, “Did you put tea in my fridge?”

The artist laughed. “I knew it was somewhere.” She took his hand in hers as she walked past him and into his house.

Bemused, he let her lead him to his kitchen.

Once there, she nodded to Ani and retrieved the glasses that he had emptied. She poured tea into them. The first she slid to sit in front of her, the second she handed to Ani. “Queen.”

Ani accepted the tea with a smile. “Olivia.”

“Olivia,” Rabbit repeated.

“Yes?”

“You’re Olivia.” He went to the cupboard to get a third glass, but as he grabbed it, the faery—Olivia—said, “No.”

He turned.

She held her glass out to him. “You will share my glass.”

Neither Olivia’s gaze nor her hand wavered as he stepped toward her. He knew that this act, that this choice, was important. In his life, he’d known enough faeries to understand that sharing food was significant. Do I want this? He thought over the time he’d spent with her the past two months. Aside from Ani, Olivia was the only faery he’d felt at ease with. No, not at ease. There was something unsettling about her. Letting Olivia into his life would mean moving forward. It would mean feeling joy again.

“Are you ready?” she asked, as if she understood the thoughts he hadn’t spoken. Maybe she does. She was unlike anyone he’d met before, and she was waiting for him.

“Yes.” He took the glass and drank. As he did so, he felt a strange peace slide through him. He took another tentative sip. “This is . . . What is this?”

“Tea and starlight.” She motioned with one hand, lifting it as if she were able to direct the glass from her seat.

Obediently, he drank the rest of the glass. “Why?”