Midnight Fae Academy: Book Two: A Why Choose Paranormal Vampire Romance Page 5

  “I’m not a fan of human drinks in general,” I replied. “No offense.”

  “None taken. But hot chocolate is divine.”

  “On that, I agree.” We had our own version as Elemental Fae, but it was similar enough. Just with a few additional spices.

  Three pints of spritemead appeared before us on the table with an array of menus cascading across the top. Tray slammed his palm on the top of them to stop the colorful array of papers from flying to the floor, their windy arrival kicking up quite the little tornado across our booth. It disappeared with a flourish, but not before brushing the hair from our faces and leaving us all with a windswept kiss across our foreheads.

  “Well, that’s different,” I breathed.

  Tray snorted. “That’s a gargoyle being an asshole.” He glared over his shoulder at the stone creature in question. “Find a new occupation if you don’t want to wait tables.”

  “Oh, it’s my fault. He’s in a mood from having to man the counter for me while I whipped up some stir-fry in the back.” A woman with long white hair and dark green eyes seemed to appear beside us, her features young yet oddly old at the same time. Like she’d lived a long life and had seen a lot, too. But there wasn’t a single wrinkle marring her otherwise lovely face. How interesting.

  “Hey, Anrika,” Tray drawled, his easy grin creasing into a pair of dimples that seemed to make Ella swoon a little. Or maybe it was the way he seemed to know everyone. He’d addressed all the figments by name in AcaWard as well, despite them being invisible. “How’s the family?”

  “You mean Seif?” she asked, snorting. “He’s reckless and stubborn and just like his father.”

  “Which is why you adore them both.”

  “Absolutely.” Her expression radiated pride. “But yeah, he’s good. I’ll tell him you were asking after him. He’s been a bit busy lately with his errant Omega. She’s giving him hell, which, of course, means I approve.”

  “Omega?” I repeated, frowning. “Like a Fortune Fae?”

  “Yeah, Seif chose the seer life over his dark magic and blood. Crazy, right?” Tray winked at Anrika as he spoke.

  I took a sip of my spritemead as Anrika replied, “He’s always had a mind of his own, that one. But Gina’ll be a good match once he calms her down.”

  I coughed, the liquid going down the wrong pipe, causing Ella to thump me on the back. Three sets of eyes looked at me in confusion, Tray arching a brow. “Not up to your standards, princess?”

  “No, not that,” I managed to say, my voice hoarse from the drink flowing in an inappropriate direction. I cleared my throat twice before asking, “Gina?”

  “Yeah, that’s his reluctant mate’s name. I’ve not met her yet. Why? The name mean something to you?”

  The vision of a coffee shop and a dark-haired Fortune Fae sprang into my mind. Gina, she’d told me. Just before adding something about our paths crossing as a happenstance of fate.

  “It’s going to be an interesting year for you, Aflora,” she’d said.

  I hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

  But now…

  “You’re in his thoughts now, after all.”

  I blinked and found all three of them staring at me expectantly. “Uh, I may have met a Fortune Fae named Gina recently. In a coffee shop in the Human Realm.”

  “Huh, well, I’ll be,” Anrika murmured, a distant gleam giving her that elderly aura once more. Such a strange contrast to her otherwise youthful features. Like her age was somehow trapped in a young Midnight Fae form.

  Of course, all the Midnight Fae appeared young. They stopped physically aging in their twenties. This woman could be thousands of years old. Perhaps that was the reason I caught such an ancient quality to her appearance.

  It would probably be rude to ask, so I didn’t.

  “You’re Aflora,” she said suddenly, that odd aura disappearing in a flash, replaced by her young self once more. “Ah, yes, I’ve heard all about you.”

  “From Gina?” I asked, slightly taken aback by her age-shifting trick. Am I the only one seeing that?

  “Oh, no. From a very old friend.” Her eyes sparkled. “I’m most excited to have you here, sweetheart. And I imagine you’re in the mood for something from home, yes?”

  A very old friend? I wondered. However, she’d asked me a question. Etiquette dictated I needed to answer that first. “Yes, please. I would love a proper sandwich.”

  “I have just what you’re looking for,” she beamed. “Wings for Tray, yes?”

  “Always.”

  I almost asked what wings were, when Anrika asked, “And what about you, Ella darling? Wings, too?”

  “Sure. It’s been a while since I had some good buffalo sauce.”

  “Anrika’s wings are the best,” Tray vowed.

  “Yeah?” A glimmer of humor entered Ella’s gaze. “All right. I trust you.”

  Anrika clapped her hands, causing the menus to disappear before we ever had a chance to read them. “I’ll be back in a shuffle,” she announced, vanishing into a cloud of glitter that left me coughing in her wake.

  Tray laughed.

  As did Ella. “Well, she’s fun. Why haven’t you brought me here before if her wings are so amazing?”

  “Because we’ve been on our tour of chicken around the kingdoms, Isabella. I had to save the best for last.”

  “Uh-huh.” She gave him a fond look before glancing at me. “He has a thing for chicken wings. It goes back to our very first date, actually.”

  “Ah, that was a fun night. Your first visit to the Midnight Fae realm.”

  “Fun? I wanted to kill you that night.”

  “But you didn’t. You even let me kiss you. Twice.”

  Ella grumbled something unflattering at him before adding, “I didn’t like Tray much when we first met. He was kind of a dick.”

  Tray snorted. “She misunderstood my intentions.”

  “Because you were an asshole.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “My plan worked in the end, didn’t it? You’re mine.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she scoffed, rolling her big blue eyes. But I caught the happiness radiating beneath her expression, her absolute joy at having him in her life.

  They really were a fine couple.

  Very unlike me and my mates.

  Whom I refused to think about.

  No. No. No.

  “So her son is a Fortune Fae?” Ella asked Tray, providing a fantastic distraction from my mind. “Like one of the Midnight Fae Alphas I learned about last year?”

  “Yep. He chose to abstain from blood and magic all his life and turned Fortune Fae as a result. An Alpha, as you said. Fangs and all.” He bared his teeth at Ella, causing her to snort.

  “Still don’t understand why you vampires don’t have fangs,” she muttered.

  “Actually, I’ve never understood that either,” I admitted. “Anatomically speaking, it makes sense since Midnight Fae drink blood.”

  “Exactly,” Ella said, waving a hand in finality.

  “Our incisors are sharp enough without the additional fang point,” Tray drawled.

  “Yet Midnight Fae males who don’t drink blood end up getting fangs as a Fortune Fae Alpha. Yeah, that makes sense.” The way Ella said it implied it didn’t make sense at all. Which I agreed with her on. Then again, I had pointed ears and that seemed silly, too. They served no purpose, and I heard just as well as any other fae.

  “Fortune Fae are a different breed of puzzles,” Tray murmured.

  “So what happens to female Midnight Fae who reject their dark source?” Ella asked, frowning. “We never covered that in class.”

  “Because they become Norms,” he replied. “Not as exciting.”

  “What’s a Norm?” Ella asked.

  A type of Fortune Fae, I thought, while Tray dove into a political lesson that more than intrigued his mate. She peppered him with questions that took up the majority of our meal, which was fine by me. I sat by and listened while I enjoyed m
y sandwich—which was indeed a proper one with shrooms and all the fixings. Anrika brought me a second spritemead without asking if I wanted one, giving me a wink before disappearing into glitter once more. The magic reminded me a bit of Shade’s, only he preferred the dark smog to happy confetti.

  I sipped my drink while thinking about him and his promise before he left.

  Anytime.

  A hopeful part of me wanted to believe that he meant it. The intelligent part of me refused.

  None of the guys could be trusted.

  That much I knew with certainty.

  Yet, Shade had given me a glimpse of home today. Had even coached me a bit on how to handle my collar.

  Not the signs of a male who wanted to hurt me.

  “Ready?” Tray asked, drawing me from my thoughts. “It’s an hour before dawn, and Kols is probably ready to come find us.”

  I glanced out the windows and noticed the mostly vacant streets.

  “Oh.” I hadn’t realized how late it’d gotten. We’d spent a good chunk of the midnight hours in this tavern, indulging in food and conversation. And spritemead. “I would very much like to come back here.” Wait… I wanted to find out what Anrika had meant about her old friend.

  I glanced around for the woman and frowned at the empty surroundings. “Ah, we’re the last ones here.”

  “Yeah, Anrika closed up an hour ago,” Tray said with a chuckle. “She left right after giving you that last mug of spritemead. Told her irritated pet to see us out.” He gestured with his chin toward the stone-faced gargoyle standing absolutely still by the door. All eighteen inches of him seemed to bristle with irritation without actually moving. Impressive.

  “Pet,” it muttered, the stones grating with astute annoyance. “Leave.”

  Tray smirked. “Sure.”

  We exited the booth, and Tray bent to pat the little gargoyle on the head. “Have a good night, little guy.”

  The thing growled in reply, the sound far more ferocious than any being that size should be able to make. Ella squeaked and practically shoved Tray out into the cool air of the night, with me right behind them.

  He bent over laughing, clearly having indulged in more than a few beers and spritemeads combined.

  Oh, but we all had.

  What a fun night.

  I actually felt warm. Sort of like I was floating on a cloud. I started to hum as we walked, the song one my mother taught me long ago. A sad little ballad with words I didn’t quite understand, but ones I’d memorized nonetheless.

  It wasn’t until I hit the second verse that I realized both Ella and Tray were gaping at me. “What?” I asked, my cheeks heating at their open perusal. “My voice isn’t that bad.”

  “No, it’s the song. It’s haunting,” Ella whispered.

  “It’s forbidden,” Tray corrected. “Where did you learn those words?”

  “What?” I asked, startled by his sudden vehemence. “How could a children’s ballad be forbidden?”

  “Because you’re singing about spells used to realign the source,” he replied, glancing around as if to make sure no one else heard. “We need to go.” He moved with urgency toward the cloakroom I’d used with Zeph a little over two months ago during my first week in this realm. Only, we all already wore our cloaks this time because of the cooler weather.

  Tray activated the portal and took us directly to the crow field at the Academy.

  A few students watched our arrival with interest but didn’t stand in our way or try to speak with us. Which was good because Tray didn’t appear in the mood for conversation. He practically stormed down the obsidian sidewalk, past the burning thwomps and bare bushes, ignoring all the writhing snakes along the various posts and fences, and led us up the stairs into the Elite Residence.

  The doors parted with a flourish, not needing a code because of whatever Tray did with his hand. And up the master staircase we went to the third floor.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Ella demanded as we approached the gargoyle at the end of the hall. Apparently, Kols had undone whatever spell Shade had cast over the creature. Its beady red eyes glared upon seeing me, as if blaming me for the earlier incident.

  Join the club, I thought at it. Everyone in this place seems to think I’m at fault for something.

  “We’ll talk in the suite,” Tray muttered, his voice holding an edge to it.

  Ella frowned at him. “Fine.”

  Great.

  There went my happy evening. All because of a song. I shook my head and followed them inside, ready to face whatever else waited to be thrown my way. Because at this point, what was one more mark on my record?

  Chapter Eight

  Kols

  I glared down at the message from Emelyn, not in the mood to deal with her bullshit. Alas, I had no choice but to appease the bitch. I couldn’t risk her finding out I mate-bonded Aflora. Not because I cared about Emelyn’s emotional reaction—which, I imagined, would be violent considering I was supposed to mate her, not Aflora—but because I knew Emelyn would go straight to her father with the information.

  And he would go to my father.

  Sighing, I typed out a response regarding her outfit question and hit Send. Then added, Not that we’re going together. Because no, we were not attending the Blood Gala as a couple.

  Talk to your father, she replied. He’s the one mandating we make a public appearance, Prince.

  I rolled my eyes because I heard the derisive snort on the end of that sentence. Consider it done. We’re not going.

  Good, she shot back.

  Good, I repeated at her.

  Then I put my phone down on the coffee table and ran my fingers through my hair. “Fuck,” I muttered, exhausted. My father had been trying to force my hand with Emelyn Jyn for several years. Neither of us was keen on the arrangement, nor did we have much say in it.

  Her father, Lima, was Malik Nacht’s right-hand man. They’d established the agreement between our families years ago, deciding that crossing the birth lines would produce one hell of an heir.

  Sure, Emelyn and I would create a powerful child.

  But that required us to fuck, which would never happen.

  She despised me almost as much as I despised her. And there was only one female I wanted in my bed right now—the one walking through the door with my brother and his mate. Mmm, I loved her legs in that skirt and boots combo. But I didn’t particularly care for the wary expression upon finding me sitting in the living area.

  Aflora was not going to forgive me easily. I hadn’t betrayed her trust, at least not intentionally. However, her blue eyes said I’d destroyed every bridge we’d built, landing me near the top of her dislike list.

  I cleared my throat and stood. “Your packages arrived and have been put away.”

  “By you?” she asked, sounding displeased at the prospect.

  “Yes, but you can reorganize however you want.”

  She lifted her chin a notch upward, lengthening her regal neck. “I will.”

  Yep. Definitely not going to forgive me anytime soon.

  Tray cleared his throat before I could reply, not that I really had a response. “Aflora, sing again.”

  My brow furrowed at the bizarre request. “What?”

  “Quiet,” he snapped at me, focusing on my gorgeous mate instead. “Sing again.”

  She cleared her throat. “It’s just a ballad my mom taught me.”

  He nodded. “And I want Kols to hear it. Please.”

  Uh… I looked at Ella for an explanation, but her concerned gaze was on Aflora. My mate twisted her hands in front of her and cleared her throat. Then she began to hum, and I swore my heart stopped at the hypnotic sound.

  I gaped at her, amazed by the sweet notes leaving her mouth. Ballad was an understatement. Aflora resembled a siren, her voice tugging at my very soul.

  Mine, I thought. This beautiful creature is mine.

  Except she hated me at the moment.

  We weren’t supposed to be
together.

  And our little mating quad might end up killing us all in the end.

  Minor details.

  I nearly snorted at my mental gymnastics, only Tray’s intense expression caught my attention. He was trying to tell me something with his gaze. I frowned, not understanding.

  Aflora was a gifted singer. So what?

  Except then her words began to register.

  The ancient language she spoke was one I’d only heard in whispers throughout my upbringing. It was an ancient dialect of Midnight Fae that supposedly died with the Quandary Bloods.

  The Council had maintained hints of the spells in our historical documents. Particularly, the most violent of potential enchantments.

  Which was what she uttered now—a string of promises to realign the source through an incantation only Quandary Bloods understood. It sounded so hypnotically beautiful coming from her mouth. I could almost feel myself slipping into her thrall, willing her to carry out the threat lurking behind her bewitching melody.

  “Aflora,” I breathed, stepping toward her as if to pull her into my arms.

  But then the music stopped, and her blue eyes clouded over in distrust, her own feet carrying her backward and into Ella’s side.

  I blinked. Right. Tray and Ella didn’t know about my attachment to Aflora. And I needed to keep it that way to protect them, because if they found out about what happened the other night, they’d be forced to speak to the Council or face severe punishments for conspiring to hide us.

  This whole thing was a fucking mess.

  “Who taught you that song?” Tray demanded, his dark gaze hard.

  Aflora swallowed. “My mother did, many years ago.”

  Tray glanced at me, his brown brow cocked upward. I stared back at him, telling him with my expression that I’d handle it. This was my job, not his. I’d go to Exos and Cyrus, see if they could give me some history on her background. The Earth Fae she grew up with was part of their mating circle. Maybe he’d know something useful.

  “How could Aflora know a forbidden song about the realignment of power?” Ella asked, telling me that Tray had explained what the song meant before they arrived. Great. I hoped he was at least quiet about it.