Faerykin (6 page)

“
Harlot!” Valerian staggered, clutching his throat. His face
turned blue. “What did…what…”

“
What did I do to you?” I finished the sentence for him. “I ate
Night Blooming Lotus while I waited for you.”

His eyes
widened, his body convulsing.

Night
Blooming Lotus was a rare flower in the faery realm, beautiful,
fragrant, and also a deadly poison. Spies had used them in many
heroic tales as a last measure of killing their targets and also an
ultimate sacrifice. When I ate Night Blooming Lotus it rendered me
a walking, breathing poison. Whoever touched me and exchanged
saliva or bodily fluid with me would die in great pain instantly.
But death didn’t spare me. Only slower. Don’t ask me why. It was
the Night Blooming Lotus’ magic property. One flower gave me three
days to live. Two flowers gave me two days. Three flowers one day.
I ate about ten or fifteen. I just wanted to make sure Valerian was
dead. I couldn’t take a chance.

Valerian
couldn’t speak as he stumbled to the floor. He went into a violent
seizure. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. I laughed with
delight in watching him die. Maybe I had turned looney. Whatever.
This man, after all, had commissioned the death of my
father.

My laugh
cut short with a coughing fit. When I wiped the spit, I realized it
was blood. My body was hot. My intestines felt as if they had been
replaced with coals.

I slunk
back in the bed. I was sure Valerian was dead by now.

It was my
turn.

Bitch. It
fucking hurt. Seriously.

The door
burst open. Sarene and Bres came to me.

“
Don’t touch me,” I warned my governess.

She broke
into tears. “Your Highness…”

Bres took
out his frustration by kicking Valerian’s lifeless body
repeatedly.

“
Bres!”

He
stopped.

“
Don’t forget about Jaime. You’ll release him and return him
home?”

Bres hung
his head. “I will, Your Highness.”

“
Good.”

Everything darkened rapidly. My tongue swelled, turning
rubbery. I wanted to order Bres to tell Jaime that I loved him. My
voice had left me.

Eternal
blackness claimed me.

* *
*

Faerykin
don’t believe in the afterlife. When a faery died, that was it. We
don’t have gods. Or hell and heaven. No reincarnation.

So
imagine my shock when I opened my eyes and found myself in a
hospital bed with all kinds of medical gadgets hooked to me. IV.
Heart rate monitor. I writhed. Catheter. Ewww. Gross. Gross. Gross.
How could I get these things off me?

My
attempts to remove the needles and other things attracted a nurse’s
attention. She scurried into my room and closed the
door.

“
Don’t do that, Miss Walker,” she chastised.

I
stopped. Miss Walker? I used Jaime’s last name when I lived with
him.

“
You’ve suffered a skull fracture, three broken ribs, and
you’ve lost a lot of blood after the accident.”

Accident?
Right. We hit the invisible barrier. Valerian and his
hunters.

I still
didn’t get all of this.

I died. I
had poisoned Valerian. How could I still be alive?

The nurse
leaned down. She was a middle-aged woman with black curly hair and
a round face. The hospital scrub covered her generous boobs and
hips. Her eyes glittered. Face glowed.

I tensed.
Somehow she looked familiar.

“
Your Highness?” she whispered. Her voice changed.

Heaven
and stars, she sounded like my mother.

“
Lady Brigid?”

She
sighed. My mother had taken over the body of a human nurse. “Your
body is weak, my dear one. Do not strain yourself. You are a mortal
now.”

Mortal?
“H-how?”

“
I learned about your plan from Sarene, but it was too late. We
cannot let you die. The elders and I made a pact with a
weaver…”

“
Are you nuts?” Making a deal with a weaver was the same as
making a deal with the devil. Nothing good would come out of it. At
least, that was what I learned from books. Or I had watched
Supernatural too much.

“
We had no choice. You must live. Midnight Court needs an
heir.”

“
But you say I’m a mortal now. I can’t rule the throne as
one.”

“
Your body might be a mortal, but your lineage won’t
be.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
Your firstborn will rule the Court of Midnight.”

“
What? You gonna take away my kid? Assuming I have
one.”

“
You will. And more. But the elders and I will take your first
one back to Midnight Court. It was part of the pact we made with
the weaver.”

“
I don’t agree to this.”

“
You do not have a choice. You were dying.”

Oh
great.

My mother
took my hand and squeezed it. “Forgive me. But it was for the
greater good. You will be able to live with your human lover and
have the life you’ve always wanted. And in exchange we take your
firstborn.”

“
That’s still a shitty deal.” I scowled. “What did the weaver
want from you and the elders?”

My mother
stiffened. “That, you do not need to know. We just want the best
for you. Trust me, if there were a better way we would have taken
it.”

“
Is Valerian dead?”

She
nodded. “The prince was buried in a pyre yesterday.”

“
And his men?”

“
They all returned to the Court of Light with the prince’s
ashes.”

“
No resistance?”

“
They all grieved and were too shocked to offer a reprisal. Cut
the head off the snake and they all surrender
willingly.”

Good
thinking. “I assume Jaime is here too? Did he get hurt?”

“
Minor injuries. The weaver put you two back at the time of the
crash. We’ve erased his memory about the faery realm. He won’t
remember or suspect anything.” My mother touched my cheek. “Take
good care of yourself, Your Highness. You might not know, but I am
always thinking of you.”

Words
evaporated before they reached my tongue. I had never guessed that
my mother cared for me.

She
nodded and left. Jaime was at the door a few minutes
later.

“
Aine? You awake?”

My heart
melted instantly. Jaime. My Jaime. In the flesh. Alive and
well.

He kissed
me. I felt as if I’d been submerged into a holy spring and was born
anew.

“
Poor baby. Are you okay?” Jaime had a stitch on his left
temple. Other than that, he looked unscratched from the
accident.

Why did I
have to be the banged up one? I didn’t understand the weaver’s
thinking. You would think since my mother and the elders had made a
pact the weaver would bring me here unscathed. “I’m okay. Where are
we?”

“
Omaha. But I’ve made arrangements to move you to a hospital
near home tomorrow. St. Margaret Mercy.”

“
We’re going home?”

“
Yes, Aine.”

“
What? No Vegas wedding?”

“
In your condition?”

“
I guess it could wait.”

“
Or I can look to see if the chapel has a priest who could
marry us.”

“
Please. Let’s do that. I really want to be Mrs.
Walker.”

“
You serious?”

“
Of course I am.”

Jaime
straightened. “Okay. Let’s do it. I’ll be back.”

I grinned
as I watched him disappear into the hall. He looked as excited as a
three-year-old in a candy store. I thought of my mother, the pact
and my firstborn.

Whatever.
Still a long time. If I could get pregnant, anyway.

I had
Jaime now.

That was
all that mattered.

The
End

About the
author:

Lizzie
Lynn Lee was a guitarist, receptionist, executive assistant, tarot
reader, boutique owner, and graphic artist before she discovered
that writing is her dream job. The advantage is that she can do it
in her pajamas and socks. She’s an incurable chatterbox, heavy
metal aficionado, book worm, digital enthusiast and a night owl
since most of her stories were done in the wee hours of the morning
because of her caffeine-induced insomnia. These days she still
plays her guitar whenever she gets bored staring at her computer’s
screen or plotting the most elaborate scheme of world domination.
Fortunately, she has a chronically short attention span.

She loves
to hear back from her readers, so drop her a line at
[email protected]