Page 5 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen (Curse of the Fae #4)

Mabel

DEVI

P ercy flies to let Mabel in while I lean against the wall in a relaxed, natural way, still feeling a little too weak to stand without help.

“Hey, Mabs, what brings you in so early?” I say.

“Bad news, I’m afraid.”

Percy scans the street behind her, checking on the cupids, and a cold wind gusts into the room.

The bite of Mabel’s magic settles over my frayed body like a weighted blanket as she tightens her hold on the handle of her black umbrella and shakes it over the carpet. The accessory quickly melts into a cane.

"What possessed you to throw a party for those vicious beasts? I smell what, twenty? Thirty? What in the Dark One’s name did you cook up in here to summon a haze storm of cupids at your doorstep?

" Her gaze darts from the pool of blood at my feet to the deep bite in my leg before she rests both hands on the raven-shaped pommel of her cane. "Oh, I see. You went out again."

A judgmental throat-clearing sound escapes her, bringing heat to my cheeks, and I offer her a sheepish grimace.

“It was worth it.”

Mabel fixes her bun, her white hair tied neatly at her neck. “And how long do you figure you’ll be stuck within two blocks of this place?”

As soon as I step outside the safety of the house, the cupids will track me down, and it takes them weeks to vanish back to the hell they crawled from.

“A month? Maybe two? Max can bring me groceries. It’ll be fine.”

“ Hmprh. Should I fry a few of them before I go?”

I cross my arms over my chest, finally letting go of the wall. “Don’t bother. They won’t stay down for long anyway.”

While the cupids created by the curse are completely immune to my magic, they are merely hindered by anyone else’s. They can’t be killed. Period. When one is struck down, its body breaks apart, and another appears in its place—only buying me time to get away.

Mabel walks across the room to the kitchenette, leaning her cane against it before filling the boiler to the brim. “I’ve received dire news from the continent.”

Mabel doesn’t share my longing for the motherland that chewed us up and spit us out, but her web of spies still keep her informed, so she can better protect what’s left of her people. She’s always watching over her shoulder, trying to protect me and her other protégés.

I raise a curious brow. “Spill.”

She glowers at my breezy attitude. “Max is parking the car. You should probably clean yourself up.”

Maxine, Mabel’s adopted daughter, is a mortal. As young and sheltered as she is, growing up in this world, she’s not used to seeing me in pieces. And the Fae Continent is as intangible to her as the nightmares that keep me awake at night.

I join Mabel in the kitchenette, careful not to step on the glass beads still littering the floor. “I’ll take a quick shower before Max gets here, but you can’t tease me with gossip of that magnitude and not spill the details. Just tell me.”

She twists on the portable stove. “The Eternal Chalice has been destroyed.”

My heart skips a beat. “But how? What happened?”

Percy gets to work cleaning up my blood from the floor with a rag almost as big as he is, listening in on our conversation.

“The Lord of the Tides melted it off, and both Eliza Bloodfyre and Thorald Storm perished during the attack on the capital.” She clutches the tea chest with both hands. “Freya survived, but I heard she’s in pretty rough shape.”

I try not to smile or pump my fist in cheer and concentrate on more pressing details. “What about Elio? And Damian?”

“Both alive, I think.” She presses her lips together. “Though I couldn’t say for how long.”

My mouth dries up, my tongue parched. A searing hope weasels its way inside my heart, potent and dangerous. If the Eternal Chalice has been destroyed, it means the only thing standing between me and my rightful crown is Freya Heart.

By Eros…

“Hurry up. The kid can’t see you like this, not if you still want to hold on to your secrets,” Mabel warns, waving me off.

The shop’s doorbell chimes at Maxine’s arrival. She rushes through the front door with her jacket held over her head to protect herself from the rain, and I slip behind the curtain of glass beads separating the shop from my private quarters to stay out of sight.

Percy flies to welcome her. “Ah, my favorite goddaughter.”

“I’m your only goddaughter, Percy,” Maxine deadpans, leaning in for him to kiss her cheek.

I enter the bathroom and close the door behind me before peeling off the rest of my bloody clothes and throwing them in the hamper.

Inspecting the bite wound on my leg, eager to clean it up, I wince at how deep the teeth indentations are—four puncture marks to add to the growing collection.

My skin is riddled with similar scars, old and new, each one a reminder of the price to wield magic.

Faded yellow wallpaper peels from the wall in the corner next to the sink, the diamond-shaped tiles chipped and stained with age.

The small window above the bathtub lets in just enough light to showcase the grime that sticks to the creases in the windowsill, in spite of my best efforts to rub it off.

The aging house is proof of how much time has passed, while my body remains plump and youthful, at least on the outside. If it weren't for the growing number of scars, no one would be able to tell I’d lived at all.

When I come out of the bathroom, dressed in fresh clothes and my leg bandaged to keep the wound from prying eyes, Maxine and Mabel are already waiting at the table in my private area of the shop, a steaming cup of tea set out for me.

The crystal ball I use to play tricks on the mortals who visit my divination parlor sits at the center of the round wooden table, goops of wax dripping down the side of the lit candles surrounding it.

“Devi! I’m so glad to see you.” Maxine abandons her seat and rams into me with one of her bone-crushing hugs.

“Hey, Freckles,” I whisper, my eyes closing for a moment. There are very few people I like in this world, but Maxine and her brother Nickolas are the exception.

“How’s the new job going, Maxie? Do tell all,” Percy prompts her.

“Any jerk I need to deal with?” I add with a wink before taking my seat.

She rolls her eyes. “ No , everyone’s been very nice.”

Mabel clears her throat. “She met a man.”

“Mabel!” Maxine cries out.

The old queen waves dismissively. “She thinks she’s in love.”

I could tell from one glance, but act surprised all the same. “A hottie, I hope?” I eye the diamond ring on her finger.

Percy loses his shit, wings flapping behind him. “Oh my Eros, Maxie! You’re engaged?”

She squeezes my hand, her beaming gaze darting between us. “I’m getting married next month in Glasgow, and I want you both to come.”

“Next month? Wow!” Percy grips Maxine’s ring with his tiny hands, grinning.

My gaze slides from the bride’s bright smile to the frown pulling at Mabel’s brows.

“So soon,” I murmur.

Maxine grunts. “Now, don’t start. I’m a grown woman.”

Mabel purses her lips together. “What about asking Devi to vet the union first, darling? Like we talked about?”

“No!” Maxine glowers, her sharp green eyes darkening with a hint of magic, the temperamental witch about to lose her grip over her unstable powers. “I don’t want any magic involved.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer to know now if the love arrow wasn’t strong enough for your marriage to last?” Mabel insists.

Maxine holds a decided finger in the air. “Please, Devi. Don’t use your magic. And I don’t want to hear another word about love arrows.”

I don’t have to use my magic to know that her marriage won’t last. One look at her was enough. But I know when and where to keep my mouth shut.

“My lips are sealed.” I pick up my tea cup and blow on the steam rising out of the amber, honey-glazed liquid.

“Your eyes say everything,” she mumbles. “You obviously disapprove.”

I hold my arms up in surrender. “Freckles, I’m butting out of your love life. I promise.”

If I’ve learned one thing about mortals, it’s that they don’t like to be told bad news—especially when it concerns their fiancé.

Fae distrust mortal love as a rule. Most attachments in this realm are formed because of an archer’s meddling, but Maxine is only half-fae.

She doesn’t know any better. And mortal marriages can be dissolved, unlike ours.

“Well, I’m famished. How about I cook us all some fried eggs?” she offers, the hot-blooded young witch struggling to stay idle for more than a minute, desperate to change the subject.

“I have some sausages in the fridge upstairs. Go nuts.”

Maxine climbs the narrow stairs two at a time, entering my loft.

Mabel leans in close to my ear. “Tell me the truth about this love of hers,” she asks in a tired wince.

Percy’s wings flutter at his back the way they always do when he’s negotiating the narrow path between his morals and his bottomless hunger for gossip. “If Max doesn’t want us to meddle, we should talk about something else.”

I throw Percy and Mabel a wink. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Percy suppresses a smile, the corners of his mouth tilting upward despite his efforts. “But this stays between us three.”

Mabel grins at my Faeling. “Of course, little man.”

“Their marriage won’t last,” I reveal on an apologetic grimace. “The love arrows used by the archer were subpar.”

Mabel curses under her breath. “By the Dark One, the arrow carvers are really getting sloppy without you.”

“Bad romances might just drain the mortal world of hope if that usurper isn’t careful.

” This botched job wouldn’t have been tolerated under my watch.

“Using a side-notched arrowhead to try and make up for the flimsy shaft was just plain stupid. They’re bound to cut deeper in one person than the other.

Mortals need flings and memorable heartbreak as well as true love, but they don’t need damaging, asymmetrical entanglements.

Maxine got hit pretty hard, but I doubt her fiancé fared the same. ”

Mabel’s wrinkled hand clenches around the porcelain handle of my roses-and-crowns tea set. “You have to tell her.”

Percy’s eyes bulge, and he opens his mouth to protest, but I beat him to the punch.

“And have my head bitten off? I don’t think so,” I grumble. “Maxine was very clear with her boundaries, and I won’t alienate her weeks before her wedding. I’m her Faerie Godmother.”

Mabel huffs at my attempt to be modern , as she calls it. “Despite the liberties she’s taken with her life, she’s meant to lead the coven one day. And contrary to what you both seem to believe, I won’t live forever.”

A knowing smile tugs at my lips. “You still have decades to live.”

“Even you can’t make an old, destitute queen live forever. I need to know Max is ready to face her responsibilities, and tying herself to a mortal man who has no idea who she really is—that’s reckless.”

Though she’s much older than I am, Mabel and I are kindred souls. And we’ve both long-forgotten what it’s like to feel young.

“Max was born and raised here, in the new world. She doesn’t know anything different.”

“Nickolas was raised here, too, and he doesn’t shy away from magic.” A sharp exhale rocks my friend’s lungs, and her hazelnut eyes fly to the ceiling.

“Twins share a special bond, but those two are like blood and water. How is dear Nickolas? He hasn’t visited since?—”

Mabel cuts me off. “He’s never been more involved in the family business, yet he still refuses to come home. That boy will be the death of me, I tell you.”

I take a careful sip of tea. “Max still struggles with being a witch. Nickolas might not be physically here, but he’s got his head in the game. You can’t expect her to take up your mantle anytime soon, not with the way things are going.”

Mabel presses her lips together, her fleeting smile wiped away in favor of a grave pout. “Speaking of unwanted baggage, I brought something with me. It’s in the trunk. Let’s get it now.”