Page 19 of A Kiss from the Fae (Mistress of Magic #2)

Excerpt from Grainne Morgan’s diary

Gwyn Beatha came to me at home this time.

He asked not for my usual observance, but to pleasure me and me alone.

I have never experienced this from a faerie, let alone a faerie king.

Afterwards, he revealed that he had brought me a gift from his private library: a grimoire of deep power.

I give this to you with ultimate trust, he said, looking into my eyes.

I was taken aback; this is unusual behaviour. I received it with thanks.

Later, he held me to him and kissed me deeply. It was altogether a most unusual – but wonderful – evening.

Fortune’s was down a narrow street opposite the park, with a pub at the end of the road and a small café opposite.

Next door to the shop there was another bookshop with statuettes of Egyptian gods in the window among many leather volumes.

On the main street outside, regency terraces lined the road with black cast iron railings, smart against white walls that featured a blue plaque here and there, remembering the great men and women that once occupied their high ceilings and graceful reception rooms.

‘Come in, come in!’ Gabriel swung the shop door open and ushered her inside. ‘I’m so happy that I ran into you. Providence,’ he said, smiling over his shoulder. ‘Or something magical at work, more likely. Don’t worry about wiping your feet.’

Faye glanced at shelves heaving with a mix of garish occult novels, old hardbacks with cracked spines and new and luxurious slipcases adorned with mysterious symbols in gold foiling.

Her feet squeaked on the dark floorboards.

The high-ceilinged shop was lit cosily by a Lalique-style pastel-green glass lamp on a mahogany desk that was slightly bowed in the middle.

Two dusty crystal chandeliers hung from the plastered ceiling, adding their milky luminescence to the atmosphere.

An ornate incense holder, like a small silver minaret, scented the shop with the meditative, churchy aroma of frankincense.

‘Everything from ritual magic to druidry, crystal grids to spiritual healing, Atlantis to grimoires of the damned and famous.’ Gabriel smiled as she scanned the shelves. ‘Open eighty years and they haven’t closed us down yet. Do you know this area? I don’t suppose you do.’

‘No, not at all. I just took the bus and got off when I saw the park.’ She frowned. ‘I didn’t plan to come here.’

Gabriel smiled and offered her a teal leather armchair with bronze studs around the edges. Faye sat in it gingerly; it looked ancient, but as she relaxed into it, it tilted backwards slightly and seemed to hug her in an unexpectedly comfortable posture.

‘London’s chock full of magic, dearest Faye.

Secret societies, covens, antiquarian bookshops, magicians, strange antique dealers…

And, I like to think that Fortune’s is like a gigantic occult magnet to anyone with even the slightest inclination for the distinctly un-mundane.

Or, perhaps we were destined to meet again.

We are merely pawns at the bidding of the higher forces, I sometimes think.

’ He chuckled, brushing imaginary fluff from his jacket.

‘It’s a lovely shop.’ Faye gazed about her. ‘I stock some books, but only a few shelves’ worth. This is such a wonderful collection.’ She looked around the shelves and saw a shelf marked Scottish Myths and Legends . She peered at the spines.

‘That was some introduction to the coven the other night. Talk about making an impression.’ He took out a brown hardback from the Scottish Legends shelf and handed it to her. ‘Here. This’ll be useful, I’d say. A gift from me.’

Faye took the book, surprised and pleased.

‘You don’t have to…’ she stammered, touched by the act of generosity. She looked at the spine: Faeries in Their Elements by Reverend R.W.Smith.

‘It’s my pleasure. I didn’t know if I was going to see you again after the ritual – you ran out of there like a scared rabbit as soon as the circle was closed.’ Gabriel placed his slim, long-fingered hand over hers as she held the book.

‘Was Sylvia angry? I got the feeling she was.’ Faye blushed.

‘Maybe a little. We all wanted to talk to you about it more than anything. Make sure you were all right. I’m glad you’re here,’ he said quietly, looking into her eyes. Embarrassed at his intimate scrutiny, she looked away. She didn’t quite know what to make of Gabriel Black just yet.

‘I doubt I’ll be allowed back after that performance,’ she said, expecting him to agree, albeit kindly.

She’d disrupted the whole ritual; granted, it wasn’t something she’d planned, but again, Faye’s faerie half had threatened her normal life, and any illusion she had about being able to control it was ruined.

Her eyes strayed to a glass-fronted mahogany cabinet opposite, inside which a number of crystal balls sat on a velvety, mustard-coloured shelf.

The shelf below held a variety of crystal skulls – large and small, and carved from black, clear and even pink stones.

Faye got the impression that, if she asked, Gabriel would be able to show her some far more unusual magical artefacts and tools.

Fortune’s reeked of old occult magic in a way that was very different to her own cosy shop in Abercolme.

Mistress of Magic was a place of dried herbs by the hearth, herbal soaps, wands and spell kits.

It was a place where anyone could be assured of a warm welcome, advice if they asked for it, their fortune told and their worries assuaged.

Fortune’s was different, though Faye still liked it immensely. She could feel the long, complicated rituals that had been performed here, the invocations to old gods, the strange incenses burned and spirits summoned.

‘Of course you will!’ Gabriel reassured her. ‘We told Ruby she had to ask you back. I mean, we were all a bit freaked out, sure…’

Gabriel was being kind, she knew.

‘Come on. More than freaked out. I saw their faces. They were terrified. So was I.’ Faye traced her fingertips around the brass buttons that held the turquoise-blue leather of her chair in place.

‘Well, it was…errr…remarkable. I’ll say that.

But don’t worry about it.’ Gabriel pulled up a straight-backed, black leather easy chair from behind the shop counter and sat next to Faye.

‘Come on. No one who stands up to a faerie king like you did should be apologising to a measly bookseller. I mean, you’re…

half faerie? Am I right in saying that?’

Faye nodded. ‘Yes. Though sometimes I think it’s a poisoned chalice.’

‘How so? You should be firing arrows of flame from your fingertips at minions in a castle somewhere,’ he consoled her. ‘We should thank you. I should thank you, anyway. I’ve never seen a faerie king before. It was…yeah. Wow.’

‘The arrows have gone in for their annual service,’ Faye joked, but she still felt mortified. She hugged the book to her. ‘It’s…complicated.’

‘I imagine. But a source of great power, surely.’ Gabriel raised one eyebrow.

‘Yes. When I was in the park just now…that was…interesting.’ She blinked. ‘I connected with something there.’

‘Oh, in the rose garden? Yes, you would do. A very fae place.’ Gabriel nodded. ‘I didn’t intend to go there today, but I was called there. Isn’t that strange? And then, there you were.’

‘There I was.’ Faye smiled. ‘I saw the faeries there. Circling me, as if they were raising power in a circle. I felt so connected to the earth, to the stars. This huge burst of power…’ She shook her head. ‘It was amazing.’

‘You should spend more time there. Connect to the earth realm. It’s strong here,’ Gabriel mused. ‘I’ve had some experiences there, but nothing particularly epic. I would think that being half fae, you would be able to connect to the energies much more profoundly.’

‘I’m tempted, now I know it’s there,’ Faye agreed. ‘Falias is the realm of earth, though. I don’t know how I feel about connecting to that after what happened at the ritual.’

‘Hmm. I can see that you would have conflicting feelings.’ Gabriel nodded.

He was right; she was conflicted about her feelings when it came to Lyr, Falias and her burgeoning faerie power.

‘You’re very…do you dress this smartly every day?’ Faye smiled at his well-cut clothes and precise black hair.

‘I try. Sometimes, days pass and no one comes in here. All dressed for the ball and no one to waltz with.’ He stretched out his arms and pulled at the deep cuffs of his tailored shirt; Faye noticed he wore monogrammed cufflinks.

‘You never know when a faerie queen will drop by.’ He gave her that inscrutable smile again, and she looked away, not sure what to say. ‘Don’t change the subject. You can’t invoke the elemental king of earth and not explain yourself.’

‘Ugh. Where to start…?’ She sighed. Did she really want to tell Gabriel the whole story? He was a stranger, and Faye was used to keeping her business to herself. A life in Abercolme had left her with few other options outside of Annie.

But if she was to have a life here, she’d have to open up sometime.

And, she admitted to herself, she needed a friend.

Especially one that didn’t think she was crazy if she talked about magic.

Not that she could tell him everything; her hand went to her throat again, fearful of the choking sensation.

Faye chose her words carefully. ‘Rav and I moved to London because some bad things happened back in Abercolme. In the faerie realms, and in the village. He…he was badly injured.’ She met Gabriel’s gaze, expecting to see ridicule or disbelief there, but his black-brown eyes showed only interest. ‘He wants us to…I don’t know.

Have a normal life here. Be normal people.

But I’m…’ She trailed off, aware that she sounded crazy.

‘But you’re not normal,’ Gabriel finished for her. ‘You’re half faerie, a hereditary witch, and Lyr of Falias’s daughter.’

‘Yes,’ she said, and it was both a relief and a kind of dread to hear someone else say it.

Her faerie half was like a dirty secret; it was the shadowy side of her.

In faerie, she’d done things she would never do in her normal, ordinary life.

And yet, now that she’d opened herself up to the shadow, she missed it.

Gabriel stared at her with a dark intensity.

‘He’s right. You’re not normal, and you never will be,’ he continued, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘You’re more magical than most people will ever be, Faye. If he can’t stand in your light, then he deserves to live in the dark. And you deserve someone who knows how to walk in the shadows with you.’