Faery Tales & Nightmares

entirely sure of the time.

“Are you feeling any better?” Ani stood in a band of shadows that seemed to flex and pulse like water.

Idly, Rabbit wondered if she noticed the shadowed air.

“Rab?”

His sister walked up to him and took something from his hand. He realized that he was still holding the paintbrush he’d picked up when he’d started the day. With effort, he uncurled his hands.

“You need to… I don’t know.” Ani wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her face against his chest. “I need you well, Rab.”

“I’m trying.” He stroked her hair. “I don’t know how to be something here, though. The world I knew was over there. My family, my girls, my father … my art. My court.”

His baby sister looked up at him. “You have family and court and art here too.”

“I do.” He forced a smile to his lips. “I’m sorry.”

Tears filled her eyes. “You don’t need to be sorry. I just need you to be well again. I want you to snarl at me. I want you to laugh.”

“I will,” he promised. With his thumb, he caught a tear on her cheek and wiped it away. “Come inside. Tell me about your day.”

Ani snuggled against his side and together they went into the little house that was his. She’d invited him to live with her, offered him a replica of their old home, even offered him the right to design whatever he wanted. Instead, he stayed in the artists’ area.

Because I can be alone here.

He wasn’t trying to be maudlin, but he’d lost his sister, seen Irial stabbed, and had no word from Gabriel. In truth, he wasn’t sure if he would, either. The gate between Faerie and the mortal world was sealed, open only for Seth unless both the High Court and Shadow Court cooperated.

It wasn’t that Rabbit wanted to go to that world. He just wasn’t sure what he was to do here in Faerie. It had been over 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.” Rabbit stepped away from his sister and opened an old-fashioned squat, dingy white refrigerator that was covered with stickers for old-school punk bands. He pulled out a pitcher of iced tea.

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 was warm.

He opened the fridge; it was working.

“Did you make the tea?” he asked.

His sister shook her head and started to stand, but Rabbit raised a hand. “Don’t drink it.”

After taking the glass from her, 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 Her 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 house?”

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 took a seat at the table. She poured two glasses of tea. 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 another 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.

“Okay.” 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?”

Olivia shook her head. “If I am to stay, you must get used to starlight.”

“Stay?” he repeated.

“You require me.” She turned to look at the doorway. “I will need the house grown larger and my studio brought here.”

Rabbit looked to the empty doorway as Ani started, “I can—”

Devlin walked in, interrupting Ani’s words.

“What…” Devlin took in the small group. “Livvy?” In a blink, he took the glass from Ani. “Don’t drink that.”

“Why?”

“It’s not for us.” Devlin upended the glass, pouring the contents back into the pitcher.

For a moment, the four of them were silent, and then Olivia smiled at Devlin and Ani. “My studio should be here now.” She looked at Devlin, and when he nodded, she bowed her head to the Shadow King and Queen. “Give the other queen my greetings.”

“You may come to my studio,” Olivia told Rabbit, and then she walked toward a door that hadn’t been there before. It opened as she approached it, lengthening into a hallway.

For a moment, he hesitated, but it was only a moment. “Did Olivia just move in with me?”

“It appears so.” Devlin motioned. “You might want to ask her about the starlight.”

After Rabbit was gone, Devlin turned to Ani and gently suggested, “We ought to leave them.”

“What if she hurts—”

“Ani?” Devlin took her hand in his and pulled her toward the door. “Olivia wouldn’t hurt Rabbit.”

“She might not mean to, but—”

“No,” he interrupted. “She wouldn’t hurt him. I’m not sure she could now.” Devlin leaned in close to Ani. “She fed him starlight, and it didn’t injure him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“She gave him some of her energy, her peace, herself.” Devlin trailed his fingertips over Ani’s jawline and onto her throat. “They are both being nourished by the starlight that is her essence. She will heal your brother.”

“Why?” Ani’s gaze darted to the doorway that now led to Olivia’s studio. “I’m glad she’s trying to heal him, but why?”

Devlin traced the edge of Ani’s collarbone. “Why do you nourish me? Why do I feed you?”

At that, Ani stared up at him. “So they…”

“Are together,” Devlin finished.

“Together,” Ani echoed. “Is that what we are?”

“No.” He brought his fingertips back up the path they’d traced, along her collarbone and to her throat. He paused there. “We are much much more than merely together. You”—he felt her pulse speed under his fingers—“are the faery who gives me strength, who gives me reason to wake in the mornings, who infuriates me, who enrages me, who enthralls me.”