I focused on the warmth of my magic from earlier—the one thing I had left, as alien as it was—and imagined it wrapping around me, shielding me.
The voice screamed in my mind as I held my hands to my ears, my throat raw as I forced her out of my thoughts, feeling claws scraping across my mind, my memories, as I mentally shoved her as far out as I could get her.
I laid on the floor panting, my dress sticking to me like I’d broken a fever.
My throat burned as I breathed in and out. When I looked up, the council members stood in a stunned huddle, alarm etched in their faces. I looked away. Opposite was Edon, and the side doors jerked open, Mickey storming in. I saw it in his face—hope mixed with dread.
Hope that came from Caleb’s death. Dread that it might not have been enough.
At the thought of Caleb, power built in me again—the same power that consumed me as I laid dying on my driveway. The same power I’d ripped from my body to save my brother’s life.
“No.” I sunk to my knees, the scepter falling to the ground with a dull clatter. “No.” When I looked up, I blinked, rubbing eyes blurry from tears creating rivulets down my chin. The only sound around me was that of my own gasping breaths. Everyone stood in place exactly as they last were. Not a single person moved.
I found myself staring around the room, empty.
Their eyes moved, but Mickey was frozen in place, weight on one leg, as if he’d been walking toward me. Edon’s arm was outstretched a foot away from my face. And the council members…They were, for the most part, huddled away from me, their faces frozen in shock and fear. I swallowed and stood up. I knew, without knowing how, that I was queen of the fae. That their inability to move was temporary—the burst of magic would last an hour or two at most.
I also knew that I hated them—each and every one. Maeve for pretending she had my best interest at heart. Mickey for being the dad that sacrificed me instead of saving me. The council for loving power more than decency. And Edon. Edon for forcing me into a relationship that neither of us wanted—one I was trapped in for the rest of my life now that I was queen.
No. They couldn’t trap me. I wouldn’t let myself be trapped again—not by carefully-worded promises, not by a loveless relationship, and not by the fae, who cared more about their power than they would ever care about me, a changeling who would never belong in their world. No. I wouldn’t let them force this life on me—manipulate me for the rest of my life. Let one of their own have that honor.
I bent over and grabbed the scepter, dragging it to rest at Edon’s feet.
“Here,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Rule the fae without me.” I looked around, tears clouding up my vision even as I sought to blink them away.
“I suppose I am your queen now,” I said to the frozen council surrounding me—to the audience seated beyond the platform. My voice amplified, but I had no idea how. “Here is my first command. Leave. Me. Alone.” Silence followed, their voices unable to respond.
The consequences of disobeying a direct command from a fae queen flashed through my mind like lightning, illuminating the aftermath in all its gory detail. My head spun. I pushed back the nauseating images of skinned fae, but not before I turned to puke on the marble floor.
What was that? Was something wrong with me? I wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve, fresh tears blurring my vision. Had the fae destroyed my sanity, too?
Killed. Caleb was dead. I had no one, nothing. And now? I might be crazy as well—as crazy as the druggie mom who killed my brother.
The thought was like a blow to the face. I choked down a sob, my fist stuffed in my mouth. The enormity of what had happened crowded in on me, threatening to pull me apart—Caleb’s death, my mother’s betrayal, being queen of the fae I hated, my mind going crazy—crazy and magicky and without Caleb.
I needed to leave. Now.
Dashing toward the exit, I pushed the doors open, distantly hearing them splinter as I rushed out. I had to get out of here. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t breathe. I was dying inside.
Chapter 22
I didn’t go to Caleb’s funeral. I told myself it was because they would weasel a way around my command so they could lie to me more. Twist me until I did exactly what they wanted me to do. But really, in my quiet moments, I knew it was because I wanted Caleb to be alive. Seeing his dead body was too permanent.
No. Caleb had to stay alive, at least in my mind. I couldn’t live with him dead.
For now, I needed it to be that way.
I shoved my pack over a couple of inches, waiting for another bus, eying every stranger that walked within twenty feet. Every time someone’s gaze lingered too long, I felt myself stiffen, tamping down the urge to run—not that anyone ever did anything to me.
I’d seen glamoured fae often enough in New York. They left me alone, never coming within ten feet unless by accident. But, just like Atlanta and DC, more and more seemed to congregate in my usual haunts over time, suffocating me with reminders of how the fae had betrayed me and my brother.
I hugged myself. The winter air in New York bit through my thin jacket, but I wouldn’t be staying here for long. I never stayed anywhere for long.
Return.
I ignored the thought.
Return.
I clenched my jaw and stood, lugging my pack with me, staring up at the bus schedule.
Twenty minutes. I could do twenty minutes.
Return!
I
