Page 54 of A Kiss from the Fae (Mistress of Magic #2)

It was the baby’s name day, and Faye had taken him for a walk in the sling she’d finally worked out how to use, hoping to get him to have a nap before everyone arrived for the garden party she and Gabriel had planned for the afternoon.

Gabriel had ushered her out of the shop before turning the Open sign to Closed ; he was setting up the buffet and putting up the decorations while she was gone.

As Faye walked through the village, people stopped her to coo over the baby and ask how he was getting on or how she was feeling – some even asked after Gabriel, who was becoming quite the celebrity in Abercolme.

Having baby Alasdair had apparently changed Faye in the eyes of the Abercolme villagers: from suspicious witch to acceptable mother.

Faye realised in speaking to some of her neighbours – some that she hadn’t exchanged words with for years – that she’d suddenly been admitted into a club she’d never known existed.

As a parent, she now had something in common with every other parent on the planet.

Gabriel would never be totally free from the grip of Murias.

Faye had no idea how he had managed to evade Levantiana’s grasp at the beach that day, but she suspected Morgana had a hand in protecting him.

Some of his old sparkle had returned. He had started talking about returning to London and to Fortune’s, but he wasn’t in a hurry.

He pretended that he was staying for Faye, to help her with the baby, which may have been partly true – Gabriel was surprisingly good with Alasdair and could often get him to sleep when Faye couldn’t.

The Abercolme air had brought colour back to Gabriel’s cheeks, and he was beginning to sleep better.

Whole weeks passed when there were no nightmares at all.

He had offered to be gone for the name day, suggesting that no one wanted a recovering addict at a party, but Faye had told him off. He was family now.

Annie’s busy filming schedule at Coven of Love had an autumn break, and she and Susie were coming to stay.

Faye had also invited Ruby and some of her friends from the village: Muriel from the bakery was bringing a huge cake she’d made for Alasdair, and the minister had offered to do the naming ceremony, much to Faye’s surprise and insistence that it wasn’t a christening.

But Faye thought it would be nice to have everyone together in the old Morgan house.

It would feel like the house had a family again, and Faye needed family. So did Alasdair.

The autumn sun glowed golden orange on Faye’s auburn curls as she walked.

She shielded Alasdair’s face from it with her hand, but relished its warmth on her shoulders.

Following one of the small roads that led to the beach, she walked under the yellow, gold and russet leaves that fell from the trees like autumn confetti.

After passing out in the Crystal Castle, Faye had awoken in her own bed with Alasdair lying on her chest. Both of them had been bathed, dressed and cared for.

She’d completely healed from the birth and felt strong and clear-headed.

Alasdair seemed none the worse for being delivered on a beach and fed happily when she breastfed him.

There was no other message or sign from Morgana other than Faye and the baby were well, and nothing bad had happened to them.

However she was protecting Faye and Alasdair from the faerie queens, Morgana’s magic seemed to be working.

There was no hint of threat or danger anywhere; Faye had no dreams, sudden visions or communications that suggested Levantiana or Moronoe could reach her.

She was so busy, and so preoccupied with Alasdair, that she had little time to worry about it.

For the moment, as long as they were safe, that was enough.

Black Sands Beach spread out in front of Faye; the horizon shone gold with the afternoon sun.

There was no one else there, as ever. She walked to the tide, kicked off her sandals and stood in the cold water.

It seemed a different place to the beach where the queens had warred over her; where she’d crouched and prayed for help, knocked over by pain.

But it was the same place, and Faye bent her head respectfully to the water and the sand.

These lines between the elements were the places of magic, and she’d never forget their power.

Alasdair squawked a little; he would only go off to sleep with constant movement and often grew impatient when she stood still, so Faye walked along the tide-line, stopping short of the house that was once Rav’s.

She was surprised to see a SOLD sign outside it.

Her thoughts turned to him, and the sonogram picture she’d seen at his flat.

Mallory was pregnant, but was it Rav’s baby, or Lyr’s?

And if it was Lyr’s child, would it spend its life in Falias, being trained to be Luathas’s expendable double, or would Lyr have another fate planned for it?

Faye hoped, for Mallory’s sake, that the baby was Rav’s.

They could have a normal life together in that case, and the baby could grow up a normal child.

Faye might have disliked Mallory, but she knew the pain of having your baby stolen by the fae – even if, in her case, it had only seemed that way for a short while – and she wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

She realised that she wished them well. Perhaps they could be happy together.

She turned away from that side of the beach and strode through the rocks just before the point where grass met sand, humming a lullaby to Alasdair. Please sleep, little one , she crooned to him. Sleep, my darling. Alasdair’s eyes started to flutter closed.

Thank goodness , she thought, retracing her steps along the beach. If she kept going for another forty minutes or so, that would be enough to get the baby through another couple of hours of a party. She couldn’t wait to see Annie and Ruby, and she knew it would be good for Gabriel, too.

It wasn’t often that she allowed herself to think of Finn – she felt, somehow, that it was dangerous, reaching out to him with her mind – but she couldn’t avoid it, being on the beach. It would always be a place synonymous with him.

Her and Finn’s connection was so strong that he’d been able to visit her in dreams and appear to her in the human world, but now, as she thought of him, she felt a curious nothingness, a slackness at the end of the line. Where are you? she thought fiercely, but there was no reply.

Faye closed her eyes, continuing to walk, holding her sandals in one hand, feeling the wet sand between her toes.

She didn’t want Finn, but she wanted some kind of closure from him.

That he wouldn’t bother her, but most importantly, that he would leave Alasdair alone.

She believed in Morgana’s protection, but nothing had so far protected her from Finn Beatha.

Finn ? Speak to me , she appealed again in her mind, and a sudden vision came to her.

Finn Beatha sat in a dark cell, shadows masking the ethereal beauty of his face. His knees were steepled, and he hugged himself in the dark.

Faye opened her eyes, startled. Her sudden stop jarred Alasdair, who fretted for a few moments until she began walking again and returned to sleep.

Faye had never seen Finn look so small, so miserable; he had never been anything but tall, imperious, beautiful – he was a powerful being.

She semi-closed her eyes again to try to return to the vision, but it had gone, and she had to keep her eyes open to walk, otherwise Alasdair would wake up.

He was still imprisoned in Falias. He was suffering and being kept against his will.

He deserves everything he gets for murdering Aisha , Faye thought, balling her fists up with the anger and grief of her friend’s death.

And the others. See how you like it , she raged.

Something had happened in the war he was fighting, and he was losing.

She didn’t care which side won or lost: all Faye cared about now was keeping Alasdair safe.

They may think he’s the child of a prophecy, and they can fight each other for him for a thousand years, but they will never have my child , she vowed, her heart full of such fierce love for Alasdair that it felt as if it would consume her.

If Finn had to suffer to keep Alasdair from harm – or even if Finn’s imprisonment had no effect on anything – so be it.

In fact, as long as Alasdair was protected, Faye didn’t care about the faerie realms at all.

Her own half-fae nature was nothing compared to being his mother.

After she had walked home the long way, letting Alasdair sleep, she returned to find that Annie, Ruby and Susie had all arrived, and there was no opportunity to tell anyone about her vision.

Even if she had had the chance, she realised she wouldn’t say anything.

This was Alasdair’s day, and she wouldn’t ruin it by talking about Finn.

Everyone was in the back garden drinking champagne. Susie handed her a glass.

‘We started without you.’ She kissed Faye on the cheek. ‘It’s so good to see you, Faye. And this must be Alasdair!’ She held out her finger, and the baby grasped it and held it firmly.

‘You too!’ Faye gazed around at the garden. Gabriel had been busy: the trees were draped in bunting and white paper garlands, a trestle table bulged with food and drink and music played in the background.

Annie enveloped Faye and Alasdair in a bear hug until the baby squealed, and she reluctantly let go.

‘Aye, he’s a bonny wee thing!’ she exclaimed, tickling Alasdair under the chin. Recovered from his squashing, he gummed a smile at Annie. ‘An’ what a smile, eh?’ She beamed at him and cast a concerned eye over Faye. ‘Ye all right, sweetheart? How’s he treatin’ ye, the wee bairn?’