Page 6

Chapter

Six

T he sauna Max took us to after he’d washed my hair was off the shower room. It was bigger and smelled like pine forests and Max.

“Ooh, we get to go into your personal sauna?” Ruin asked, her big hazel eyes glowing slightly.

I looked at Max. “You have your own sauna?”

“That’s right. It’s where I keep my beast, but not today.”

“Oh, your beast likes saunas? Weird,” Ruin said, looking around and studying the claw marks in the walls. She swallowed hard and then glanced at Max. “Those are big claws.”

“Rules,” Max said, holding up his hand, pointer finger raised, looking between me and Ruin. “No talking. Particularly about the size of my beast’s claws. No talking,” he said, holding up another finger. “And no talking,” he said, with a third finger.

I raised my hand. “Are those three different rules that I missed because I didn’t catch a change in your intonation or…”

He pointed at me. “You’ve just broken all three rules. Try again.”

I pressed my lips together and looked at Ruin. She had her face squinched up, trying to contain the urge to ask him a million questions about his beast’s claws and who knows what else.

“Good. Now detox, Princess Sparkles. If you need to leave, tap my shoulder.” With that, he put me and Ruin on the second bench, then sprawled out on the bottom one, like he was blocking the exit in case we decided to run.

He was lying like that, showing so much of his skin and muscles and all of it openly displayed other than whatever the towel hid. It looked so small and delicate.

Ruin yanked my arm, turning me so I stopped staring at Max. Right. No staring. Good idea, because seeing that bare face, with that bare skin, so at odds with the typical fairy physique, was positively disturbing. I wasn’t here to be disturbed by a werewolf.

I lay down on a bench, closed my eyes, and let the world become smoke and steam. My claws were still out, so I absently scratched the wood, which released a slight scent of pine. Pine wasn’t an ideal wood for somewhere this moist. They should have used cedar. What kind of trees would he want in his woods? It was usual to only have a few genus of species that blended well together, depending on climate and elevation.

Did Max really consider the moon his mate? How would that work with him trapped in the undercity of Song? I dozed, with the smell of Max below me while I lay on the bench above him, letting the heat melt my bones. The scent came from my pores, death, rage, and bitter sorrow. It rose from my skin while the memories played like a dream.

I’d come on my enormous dragonfly, circling through the darkness, down through the smoke caused by the burning south wing of the Queen’s palace. I held my breath as we circled lower, and there, caught by the fingers of the pale moon, was the Queen and her court in the dark, glittery pools of their fairy blood.

I leapt off the dragonfly’s back and spread my wings, circling down to land beside my mother. Her eyes were open, glazed, looking up at the sky with an expression of regret on her lovely face. Her heart had been ripped out of her chest, leaving a gaping hole surrounded by the elaborate lilac silk, generously splashed by the dark liquid that swam around her.

I couldn’t breathe. The smoke wasn’t the problem. So much death, so much pain, so much anger… I couldn’t do anything but crouch next to my mother and soak in her blood.

“The werewolves are moving south, burning everything. My Queen, do we retreat to the Earthlands, or do we fight?” Vervain stood beside me, looking down at me like he didn’t see the fallen. His face was impassive, otherworldly, with a sparkle of the galaxy across his bone-pale cheekbones.

I stood slowly, thick viscous fairy blood dropping off my fingers. “I’m not the Queen. In her memory, we kill. We destroy. We devastate!” The last word came out as a shrieking roar of doom that rumbled across the sky along with a flicker of thunder and a stir of the clouds. The blood came to life with me, and those who followed me, my rage infecting them with a hunger for vengeance that became everything. We ate the hearts of our enemies. We devoured them like their leader, Malamech the Dark Lupin Sorcerer, had our Queen. I killed so many, soaking up their blood like I’d done my queen, becoming more powerful, more ruthless, more like the enemy, so I could defeat him.

I killed so many wolves, so many ways, until I had become death. They called me the death fairy, whispered of me as I flew above them, carried on the wind of vengeance.

The scent of wolves drew me, and I fell, burying my claws in a chest as I bled one out, slow, so I could soak in the death more satisfyingly.

“What the crap! Are you making out?” The shriek broke through the haze of blood and rage.

I turned my head, blinking. I took in Ruin’s shocked face, then I looked down and there was Max, beneath me, my claws in his chest as I bled him out, his eyes unfocused as he stared up at me.

For another second, I was disoriented, uncertain which was the dream and which the reality, before everything clicked and I carefully pulled out my claws, whispering a spell that would slow the bleeding.

“Wait, you’re not making out?” Now Ruin sounded even more shocked. “You’re killing Max?”

“I…” I shuddered and forced my claws back where they’d come from, then rolled off his body and onto the floor. I’d been straddling his incredibly muscled stomach wearing nothing more than a towel. And I’d been killing him. I wasn’t sure which was more shocking.

Max rose up on his elbows, studying me thoughtfully while blood welled up from his chest, running down the curve of his pectoral. “Ruin, go back to the warehouse. I’ll see you later.”

“But…” she said, looking from me to him, panic growing on her face. “I’m not leaving you if you’re in danger. Or if you’re going to punish her for trying to kill you.”

My heart warmed at the idea that she’d stay with me, even after seeing me attack her alpha.

Max said, “I’m going to lecture Princess Sparkles. You can stay if you’d like. I’m sure it would be well worth…”

Ruin didn’t wait for him to finish, just gave me an apologetic glance and then dashed out of the room in a cloud of steam, leaving me in that dark, warm cocoon with Max, who was still seeping blood from his chest. I should put pressure on to help stop the bleeding, but I’d have to touch his skin, and he shouldn’t want me to touch him after I’d tried to kill him. I hadn’t been like that for so long. I took my people’s sickness, I didn’t become lost in the blood rage.

“Bad trip?” he asked in a low voice, barely audible above the hissing of the rocks.

Is that what it was? “No. I’m not a pixie dust addict. I guess you could call it PTSD. You’re seeping. Do you want me to put pressure to slow the bleeding? I understand if you don’t want me to touch you. I apologize. That’s not enough, but it’s all I have, unless you’d like me to put pressure…”

He shook his head slightly, looking at me like he had no idea what he was supposed to do with me. “I’m going to shift into my wolf. That’ll speed healing. Then you’re going to wash the blood out of my fur, and off yourself. Again. Seems you came to the bathhouse thinking it was a blood bath. That’s understandably confusing.”

I rubbed my arms and felt the stickiness on my skin. When I raised my hands, they were covered in the dark sparkles that I’d sweated out. “I didn’t realize…” I swallowed hard. I’d been trying to kill him. A few more minutes, a few more seconds, and he’d be dead. I scowled at him suddenly. “Why didn’t you stop me? You’re not some helpless child who can’t fight back. I could have killed you, but you should have been able to stop me. Why didn’t you?”

He smiled slightly. “I suppose I was surprised. I’m not close to death. I regenerate blood quickly. Pity Ruin ruined our moment. It was funny that she thought we were making out. With your glue saliva, that would be a unique experience.”

I stared at him, the anger twisting into confusion. “What is making out, and what does it have to do with my saliva?”

His eyes sparked bright for a moment. “Making out refers to fervent desire between two people that results in the meeting of mouths. And other things. Closed mouth kisses wouldn’t be making out, unless I have my usage wrong. It’s possible. Kids always have to think up new ways to say old things, to fit with their notion of all experiences being unique to them.”

“She thought I was kissing your mouth?” I stared at his mouth and a shot of hot fire went down my spine and coiled in my belly like a ravenous dragon. My mouth watered, but it wasn’t the glue spit. “I’m hungry,” I said, still staring at his soft lips, framed by that sharp jaw that felt like silk.

“Too bad. I can’t feed you until after I’ve stopped bleeding out. Those little claws of yours went deep. Take a deep breath before I shift, because you might not breathe for some time afterwards.”

“Why wouldn’t I breathe?” I asked.

He wiggled his brows for a second and then his jaw, his beautiful silky jaw ripped apart into two rows of massive, slavering teeth. I held very still, not breathing, while Max shifted into his wolf, which was the largest black beast I’d ever seen. I’d seen wolves like that flanking Malamech, so long ago, but not quite as big as Max. He really could be the worst warrior of them all if he had the right corrupt Lupin Sorcerer to train him.

I curved my fingers and my wing tips turned to blades while I watched the transformation finish, leaving me with a monster whose shoulder came up to my ear, golden eyes the same, warm, amused, and concerned.

He bumped my chest with his nose, knocking me back a step. I inhaled sharply and licked my lips.

“I don’t suppose you want me to talk about how big your wolf is, either,” I said.

He bared his teeth in a terrifying wolfish grin, and again, I couldn’t seem to find enough oxygen. He turned and lay down next to the burning coals, and started licking his wounds.

“I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do. I’m not the best healer.”

He looked up at me, his eyes prompting me.

“Right. I’ll wash your fur in the shower once you’ve stopped bleeding.”

He nodded then went back to licking his chest.

I sat on the lowest bench, staring at him, still in awe at how absolutely massive he was. If his wolf was this big, how big would his beast be? I shuddered at the thought of him being even larger. It wasn’t possible. But it was true anyway. Like turning the cavern into a forest was impossible but still going to happen. I needed to think about something else besides Max’s wolf. Anything else. The cavern project was the perfect distraction. I closed my eyes and pushed against the minds of the other fairies in Singsong City, avoiding the one who had told me about dissertations.

I needed a real terraformer, but I didn’t want to have to go back to Fairyland to find one. I couldn’t read anyone there, just here, and I didn’t want to bother those who wouldn’t be useful. Finally, I found a mind that answered the question I had asked- “how would you terraform an underground cavern”- to the general fairy populace. It should go through most of their minds without them noting it as more than an errant thought.

I focused on that mind and went through the layers of his knowledge until I was startled out of my research by Max’s wolf bumping my shoulder with his enormous muzzle. I shrieked before I could stop myself.

“Sorry,” I whispered, and tried to smile. “I won’t tell you how big and terrifying you are. Are you done bleeding? Already? Good thing werewolves heal so fast.” I carefully tried to examine his chest, but the fur was stuck together with his blood. “Right. Let’s go to the shower.” I opened the door and went out, holding it open for Max’s massive, terrifying beast of a wolf who followed me out, staring at me with his golden eyes.

Washing down Max’s wolf was simply unearthly. He was just so big, so he had to crouch down as I rubbed on the shampoo. Shampoo. Such a strange word. In the process, the scent of wet dog and blood was incredibly potent. Also, there was so much fur. I used more and more of the shampoo, working on his belly and legs until the bottle was empty, and he and his fur were clean. Then he nosed the other bottle. That’s right, the conditioner. Heaven forbid a massive war wolf not have silky fur. After that bottle was empty, he nosed me back in the water to help him rinse that out. He was gently bossy, and I was soaked and tired when he finally left the shower and shook his fur, spraying me liberally. I stood there, flinching while his hair poofed up all over and he looked at me with his tongue lolling.

His expression was just so ridiculous, like his fur, like the fact that I, a fairy, had worked so hard to make his fur silky. I giggled, and then another loud burble of laughter came out of me until sparkly tears were streaming down my face. What in the world was I doing in a werewolf bathhouse? If I was an even partially competent ruler, I would have delegated this, rooted out whoever was trying to get Fairyland invaded a second time, and maintained my dignity. Instead, I was ‘Princess Sparkles,’ the wolf washer.

I wiped my eyes as my laughter faded to find the wolf studying me with his head cocked as if to say, ‘Have you lost your mind, Princess Sparkles? No, you were crazy from the first moment I found you fighting the hosts of the owl god.’

I smiled at him and grabbed his cheeks, which were now so soft, if slightly damp. “Such a cute fluffy wolf. I need to tour the caverns so I can have a better idea how to turn it into a forest. Do you want to shift back now?”

He ducked down and lifted me onto his head, and then shook me until I was perched between his shoulders, so high from the ground.

“Max, what are you doing? It’s not dignified for wolves to be ridden.”

He looked over his shoulder at me, golden eyes gleaming and then he crouched long enough for me to dig my fingers and toes into his fur. He leapt forward, crashed through the door, then down the tile hall, sliding around wildly while I held on with my eyes squeezed as tight as they could be and still see the world passing by. The stairs were terrifying. He took them in two massive bounds, then we were racing past the bathers, who looked at us with expressions of startled awe.

I should have waved like we were in a parade, but there was no time. I should have a parade in Fairyland to raise the people’s morale. Hadn’t had one of those in decades.

Someone opened the front door for Max, so he didn’t have to break it. We soared down the steps and into a road, where a car squealed and honked at us. We were gone in another bound, across the street, then running down an alley. The end was coming up fast, but he leapt, one wall, the other wall, then over the end, onto a roof.

I couldn’t breathe, but I clung to Max’s wolf and gasped giggles, because this whole thing was so nonsensical. There should be a moon above us, lighting our way through the dark undercity. The city’s lamps hummed the same subtle tune they always sang, while the wolf ran. He leapt down onto the street again, this time merging with the cars, and he was as large as some of them. One small face looked out a car window, finger pointed at us, but then we were gone, so fast, so fearless, reckless, and absolutely delicious.

I used to love to fly on a dragonfly. This reminded me of that, only Max was different. Maybe it’s because I’d groomed him so well, but I felt more connected to his movements than I ever did one of my short-lived steeds. We were one on that ridiculous, impossible ride, one in flesh, one in spirit, and one in exhilaration.

He broke out of the city, passed the ugly warehouse, and then into the entrance of the caverns. He kept running on the stone into the dark, his smooth gait long and loping, until finally, he spun, flinging me off his back. Mid spin, he shifted, turned into human Max with that alarming shaved face. He grabbed my wrist, keeping me from flying into a wall, then pulled me close and spun me under his arm in an elaborate dance move that not one fairy in a thousand could have executed so gracefully. No, graceful was the wrong word. Power, control, balance, precision, but not grace.

His eyes burned while he held me in that dance position, staring down at me with those glittering golden eyes. They were almost more beautiful than the moon.

I blinked and pulled away, rubbing my forehead while I reeled without his stabilizing hold. “That was a very efficient use of time and space,” I said, sounding breathless.

“I do strive for efficiency,” he drawled then crouched down on his heels, studying me. He was wearing long pants, long-sleeved shirt, buttoned all the way up so I couldn’t see if his wounds were seeping, or if his chest was still bewildering in its muscular complexity.

I pointed at him. “Why aren’t you naked?”

He raised a brow. “Was that a request?”

I shook my head rapidly. “No, just a question based on the physics of turning into a wolf wearing a towel then turning into Lord Max fully clothed.”

He shrugged. “It’s called…magic.” He gestured to his left forearm, which I remembered as being perfectly, fascinatingly muscled, but was now covered in white fabric. “I have some sorcery runes that link to my closet.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Not really, but I had other things to worry about. Like how I was supposed to turn the stone into dirt. I frowned down at the ground. “I’m going to concentrate for some time, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure. I never mind. That’s why I’m the alpha.”

I blinked at him. His golden eyes flickered warm and soft. I cleared my throat while uncomfortable weird emotions roiled inside of me. It was probably the bare jaw that was making me feel so uncomfortably aware of him. “Your logic is flawless. If you could…”

He nodded soberly and pressed his lips together. Were they as soft as they looked? Not that I really wanted to know something that ridiculous. But Ruin kept thinking we were making out, so of course I thought about it. I needed to focus on the mind that had known so much and dig deeper. He led me through his understanding, one step at a time, slow yet thorough until I blinked the cavern and Max back into focus.

He was standing, with a twitching, large insect in his fingers. “You said you were hungry. Care for a bite?”

The thing kicked its legs, antennae twitching. For some reason, the sight of that bug struck me as revolting. Probably because it was.

I shuddered. “No, thank you. I’m not very hungry anymore.”

“It just went away? I had no idea that hunger could just go away. Well, no sense in wasting it.” He popped the insect in his mouth, and my whole body twinged at the sight.

I grabbed him, pulling him close while my mind tangled with that other fairy as well as the disgust at the bug. “Max, spit it into my hands. Don’t swallow, okay? I need it.”

He slowly stopped chewing, eyes skeptical. He hesitated then finally spat the crushed and wet bug into my hands, making me feel icky.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to smile.

“Now you’re going to eat it? You think my saliva will break it down better for you since your spit is glue.” His eyes were so golden and beautiful, as was the slight smile playing behind his pretended shock.

I looked at that mouth, then shook my head and refocused on his eyes. “No. I have the glue spit, but also poison. And venom. Most of the time it’s just an ordinary digestive aid. I’ll also need some of your blood.”

His brows rose “Poison, venom, and glue? You’re the Swiss army knife of fairies. You haven’t taken enough of my blood tonight?”

I shrugged helplessly. I really shouldn’t take it. “Not much, just a pricked finger should do it.”

He looked skeptical, like I’d tried to bleed him out an hour ago. I tried to look innocent. Finally he opened his mouth, touched his finger to one of his canines, then held it out to me, welling blood.

I smiled at him then took his finger, closed my eyes, and started sucking on it. His blood was incredibly potent, wild, but sweet. Once I had enough in my mouth, I pulled out his hand and then spit his blood with the crushed roach onto the ground before writing on the stone in the correct pattern, spreading the mess of life and cells around.

“You look like a pigeon hopping around,” he said, amused.

I didn’t look up to frown at him for trying to distract me. I sliced my own arm and then did an elaborate dance of moon and magic, while my blood flowed in dark sparkling lines that spread out in the exact shape of my spell. It wound around Max until it slapped the ground with a hiss.

I crouched on the stone, my hands spread out on the rocks while I listened. Lines of quartz flowed like rivers through the slate. It wasn’t a very hard rock, so it shouldn’t take too long to…

My hand plunged through the dirt and into the soil, spreading around us so Max sank up to his ankles in the suddenly soft ground. The cry of an owl made me look up. I saw flicker past Max of white wings and then the outline on the ceiling of another spell on the roof above us, a spell of dissolving that was similar to what I’d done, but not quite the same. If I hadn’t seen that flash of spell, I wouldn’t have known that it wasn’t just an extension of my own spell. I also wouldn’t have known to throw my hands up in a glowing glittery shield that spread above Max’s head and down to the ground all around us.

“What are you doing, Princess Sparkles?” he asked, after a few seconds of watching me crouched like that, fingers trembling as I held the shield.

Then the ceiling came crashing down around us in a huge cloud of swirling dust.