Fragile Eternity (Wicked Lovely 3)

“Is that why I’m this? Because she wasn’t human when I was born? Was I ever all the way mortal?”

This time, Grams was still so long that Aislinn wondered if they were going to have a repeat of the silences that always came when there was talk of Moira. Grams sat and stroked Aislinn’s hair for several minutes. Finally, though, she said, “I’ve wondered, but I don’t know how we’d know that. She was barely mortal when you were born. Add that to whatever makes us have the Sight…I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Maybe she was the queen he was looking for. Maybe you were too. Maybe it’s why we have the Sight. Maybe it could’ve been anyone in our family. Maybe when Beira’d cursed him and hid the faery whatever-it-was that was to make someone the Summer Queen…it could have been any of us. If Moira had taken the test…I wonder if she’d have been the queen. I wonder if I would’ve still ended up a faery. If she wasn’t really mortal when I was born—”

Grams interrupted Aislinn’s increasingly fast flow of words. “Wondering about what-if doesn’t help, Aislinn.”

“I know. If she was a faery…I wouldn’t be alone.”

“If she had chosen to accept being a faery, I wouldn’t have had you to raise either. She wouldn’t have left you behind.”

“She did leave me. She chose to die rather than be a faery. Rather than be what I am now.”

“I’m sorry.” Grams’ tears fell into Aislinn’s hair. “I wish you didn’t know any of that.”

And Aislinn didn’t have a response. She just lay there, her head in Grams’ lap, like she had so many times as a little girl. Her mother had chosen death over being a faery. It didn’t leave much room to doubt what Moira would’ve thought of the choices Aislinn had made.

CHAPTER 8

Seth wanted to be surprised when he saw Niall waiting inside the Crow’s Nest the next day, but he wasn’t. Their friendship was one of the things Niall held fast to, and Seth, for his part, wasn’t objecting. It was like discovering that he had a brother—albeit a twisted and moody older brother—no one had bothered to tell him about.

Seth spun a chair around and straddled it. “Don’t you have a job or something?”

The Dark King lifted a glass in greeting. A second glass sat on the table. He gestured toward it and said, “Poured not by my hand or of my cup.”

“Relax. I trust you. Plus I’m already in your world”—Seth lifted the glass and took a drink—“and not planning on walking out of it anytime either.”

Niall frowned. “Maybe you should trust less freely.”

“Maybe.” Seth leaned over and grabbed a clean ashtray from the next table and slid it to Niall. “Or maybe you should chill out.”

In one corner, the band was doing their sound check. Damali, one of Seth’s semi-regular partners before-Aislinn, waved. Her copper-tinted dreads were midway down her back when he’d seen her last. They weren’t much longer, but they were dyed magenta now. Seth nodded and turned his attention back to Niall. “So, you feeling the need for a lecture or being overprotective?”

“Yes.”

“Talkative and maudlin today. Lucky me.”

Niall glared at him. “Most people are intimidated by me these days. I’m the master of the monsters that Faerie fears.”

Seth arched a brow. “Hmmm.”

“What?”

“This whole ‘fear me’ thing doesn’t work for you. Better stick to the brooding.” Seth took another drink and looked around the Crow’s Nest. “You and I both know you could order all of their deaths, but I know you wouldn’t do it.”

“I would if I needed to.”

Seth didn’t have an answer to that—it wasn’t a point of argument—so he switched topics: “Are you going to be gloomy all afternoon?”

“No.” Niall glanced at the far corner. This early, there was an open dartboard. “Come.”

“Woof,” Seth said, but he stood even as he said it, relieved to move on to doing something.

“Now, why don’t my real Hounds obey so quickly?” Niall had apparently decided to try to lighten up. He smiled, weakly, but still it was a smile.

Seth went over and pulled the darts out of the board. He wasn’t serious enough about the game to carry his own. Niall, however, did carry his own. He had been a faery-but-not-king for too long. As a king, he wasn’t prone to reacting to steel, but that was a very recent change. A lifetime habit didn’t let go so easily. He opened his case; inside were bone-tipped darts.

While Seth selected the straightest of the steel-tipped darts for himself, Niall watched with a bemused expression. “It’s not toxic anymore, but I still would rather it not touch my skin.”