Desert Tales: A Wicked Lovely Companion Novel

Her chains were finally sagging enough that she could punch Maili—so she did. Then she grabbed her and pulled her close, spinning her so that her back was to Rika’s chest. To anyone watching it would look like Rika was embracing her.

“I meant that Keenan isn’t trustworthy,” Rika corrected.

Maili struggled as Rika choked her with the chains until she was unconscious. Then, holding Maili’s limp form in one arm, she used her other hand to go through Maili’s pockets until she found the keys. It was not a quick or easy process, but it worked. She retrieved the key and let Maili slump to the ground, alive but not conscious.

“Of course, Shy isn’t trustworthy either,” Rika told the unconscious faery. “But he also isn’t trying to steal everyone’s freedom.”

She unlocked the manacles, put them on Maili, and left her chained up to the fire escape.

Then Rika pocketed the keys and walked away. When she reached the end of the alley and stepped out, Maili’s helpers stared at her. None of them moved to attack her now. They weren’t malicious. Being a solitary faery meant obeying those stronger; it meant making allegiances that faded when power shifted.

“Don’t be stupid,” she cautioned them. “Scratch that. Don’t be any stupider than you’ve already been. Following Maili or believing her theories about trusting the Summer King would be a bad idea.”

One of them started to attempt to explain. “Maili said . . . but we didn’t want to hurt you. It’s just that Maili said—”

“She’s not the strongest faery in the desert,” Rika interjected. “Neither is Shy. I am.”

They didn’t reply, but there was nothing truthful they could say. Even those who’d never lived among the court fey knew about the curse. Many of the solitary fey in the desert were those who had fled there to escape the cold that had become so pervasive in much of the world because of the curse. Knowing about the curse also meant that they knew that the former Winter Girls were strong, much stronger than fey who’d hidden in the desert.

“I’m not going to be so forgiving in the future if you keep helping her—or if you injure humans.” Rika looked at them each in turn. “I was human a long time ago. It would be wise to remember that next time you think about harassing mortals.”

Some of them nodded; others looked surly. It didn’t matter if they agreed with her rule, though. They would obey her. If not, she’d remind them of how strong she really was. That wasn’t the fate she’d sought, but she wasn’t going to let anyone push her around again.

When Rika returned to her home, she went to the cavern where Jayce and Sionnach were playing a game. They both looked up at her when she entered. She barely nodded at Jayce. She was afraid that if she spoke at all, her anger at Sionnach would boil over. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so foolish with anyone but Keenan. The first faery she’d trusted since the Summer King, the first faery in the desert she’d thought of as a friend, and he’d used her.

“You!” She poked Sionnach in the chest. “How dare you manipulate me?”

“So you know,” he said levelly.

“Get out, Sionnach. Now.”

He didn’t move. However, Jayce quietly turned away from them, giving her the illusion of privacy. Rika wasn’t sure she could stay in the same space with Sionnach. She turned and kept walking, heading back to her bed, not sure of much other than the need to curl into her nest until her temper was cooled.

Sionnach didn’t have the sense to let her do that. He followed her, not just into the room but close enough that he now stood directly in front of her. He caught her gaze and simply stared at her for a moment, not speaking or moving. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never been as furious as she was right then, and he just stood there staring at her.

Rika shoved him. “What were you thinking? I trusted you.”

“I made some calculated risks when I knew Maili had gone to Keenan.” His voice grew louder as he spoke. “Don’t you understand? He’s—” Suddenly, Sionnach’s words broke off. He walked away, pacing as he did when he was tense or cornered, and when he continued, his voice was level. “I don’t want to fight with you. I had a plan, but I needed time before I could explain it all to you.”

“Maili told me. So nice to be a pawn again.” Rika watched him as she told him about being trapped and chained up. She stared at him as she told him everything Maili had said.

Fear was plain on Sionnach’s face, but he said nothing.

“You aren’t denying any of it,” she said quietly.

“Would you believe me?” he asked just as quietly.

“So Jayce was what? A distraction? A prize?” She felt a familiar tangle of embarrassment and anger. She’d let Sionnach know that she’d cared for Jayce, let him see that she wanted so desperately just to be loved that she’d taken to following a mortal boy around.

Sionnach still said nothing in his defense, nothing to explain away his actions or even ask about Maili’s fate or her injuries. He simply stared at her silently.

“How could you do this to me?” She repeated the one question that had been playing over and over in her mind since Maili’s revelations.

Finally, Sionnach looked as furious as Rika felt, anger replacing the fear in his eyes. “You didn’t leave me a lot of options. I’ve waited for years for you to find a reason to come out of your gloom and look at the world. You did nothing. You stayed here in the dark and pouted. Caring for someone . . . it makes you see what matters.” His fox tail had flicked madly behind him while he spoke, and then all at once, it stopped. He stilled completely and said only, “I care about you.”

Rika knew that tears were streaking down her cheeks, knew that he saw them and felt guilty for it, but none of that changed anything. He’d manipulated her. She walked up to him, standing closer than she’d ever stood when they’d argued, and folded her arms over her chest. “Not enough to make you honest though.”

Sionnach didn’t back down. “Jayce is good for you. Look how happy you’ve been lately. I just moved a few pieces so you’d have to act on it. Once you were with him, I knew you’d want to make things safer in the desert.”

“You really aren’t any different than Keenan, are you?” Tears dripped down her cheeks, falling onto her chest and crossed arms. She didn’t wipe away her tears, afraid that if she stopped holding on to herself she’d strike Sionnach.

“You know that’s not true, Rika,” he said. “I heard about Keenan being unbound. I tried to make changes so we weren’t doing things that would attract his attention too soon, but I wasn’t strong enough to handle it alone if he came here . . . and he did. I needed help. You’re stronger, and if we work together—if we act like friends—we can keep the desert safe.” Sionnach reached out as if to wipe her tears away.

She slapped his hand. “Friends don’t manipulate one another.”

“I needed you, and you needed someone who—”

“What about letting me decide what I need?”

“You weren’t deciding anything.” His anger returned, and his tail swished rapidly behind him again.

“So that makes it right to manipulate me?”

“Politics, love, passion—giving Jayce to you solved so many things.” He reached out again, but didn’t touch her. “This is best for everyone.”

“So I’m simply to be okay with being manipulated for your plans?”

“I care for you enough to want you happy, and I love my freedom enough to want to—”

“To want to use me.” Rika turned and walked into the main room, where Jayce was waiting. He didn’t say anything, but he’d obviously heard all of it. After only a moment, he opened his arms, and she went into his embrace.

She buried her face against him and cried.

After her sobs let up, he wiped the tears from her cheeks, but didn’t press her to talk. Somewhere inside her home, Sionnach quietly waited, but he didn’t seek her out and force her to speak either.

Rika rested her head on Jayce’s shoulder, and they sat there silently until evening fell. Jayce didn’t chastise her for the mess he’d been drawn into because of her. She waited for him to leave, grateful that he hadn’t walked out while she and Sionnach argued.