Page 12

Chapter Nine

L aying totally motionless and listening to Oonagh and Linden discuss the wedding and their evil genius was nearly impossible. But I managed it, and if I could do that then I should easily be able to get control of my magic.

Finally, they left the room, and I struggled upright on the bed. My body was coming back under my control. Slowly, but surely.

I flung my legs over the edge of the bed and carefully stood. My toes and feet tingled, but it wasn’t too bad. I shuffled around the room, looking for Jocko and also a way to escape.

Finding my familiar proved to be much easier than finding an escape route. Jocko was in the en suite bathroom, still floating unconscious in his bowl. I poked him a few times, and eventually his beady eye blinked open.

“ Merde , where am I?” he asked after a few more blinks and a burp.

“We’re at Oonagh and Silver’s.”

He popped up from his back float. “Why don’t we leave?”

I laughed humorlessly. “Believe me, I’d love to, but we are trapped here.” I explained the whole situation to him.

“Marry Linden?” Jocko said, gagging slightly. “Doesn’t he understand polygamy laws?”

“Apparently not.”

“You have to do some of your magic and get us out of here,” Jocko stated.

“I agree, and I’m trying, but whatever magic Oonagh cast on me is affecting my already wonky magic.” I showed him. My hands sparkled, rosy and gold, then sputtered and died.

“Great,” he muttered.

I nodded in frustrated agreement.

“Maybe you can squeeze me under a door or through a vent or something, and I can make it to Etienne,” Jocko said, rising up on the edge of his bowl, looking around for a place to sneak out.

“You’re a crawfish,” I said, giving him a dubious grimace. “How long do you think it would take you to crawl your way back to St. James Bayou?”

He made a face. “I could just go across the street to your parents.”

“How long would that take?” And he couldn’t exactly dodge traffic with any sort of agility.

“Awhile,” he admitted begrudgingly.

“It’s a possibility,” I said, feeling the need to bolster his ego. He couldn’t help that he was a small crustacean. “But I think we can find a way out.”

“Ah, our little bride is awake.”

I spun to see Silver, Oonagh’s handsome and obedient husband leaning in the doorway. “Just in time for the beautiful ceremony we have arranged for you and your new love.”

“You know he’s not my new, old, or ever love,” I spat at him.

Silver grinned, the curve of his mouth more evil than amused. “But he will be.”

I looked around, spotting a metal nail file in a basket on the bathroom counter. The file would have been more useful to jimmy the bedroom door lock than fight off a unicorn Shifter. But beggars couldn’t be choosers.

I grabbed and waved the small nail tool out in front of me. “Get back. And let us go.”

Silver laughed. “Oh please.” He waved his hand, and his magic darted out of his fingers and swirled around me. My last thought before I passed out yet again, was that unicorn magic smelled just like cotton candy.

When I came to again, I was propped up on a velvet chaise, and, to my utter horror, wearing a wedding dress.

A hideous one. If Tim Burton had a garage sale of rejected costume pieces, and those were then dipped in white paint and sprinkled with dead lilies, you’d have this gown.

There were at least three crinolines involved, not to mention tulle sleeves so stiff my arms were lifted out at the sides of my body.

Oonagh herself whirled around the room in a floor-length silver caftan, barking orders at invisible minions and gesturing at linen-wrapped chairs.

Linden, meanwhile, floated through the room with the prideful swagger of a man who was convinced he was the main character at his own wedding.

Even though the bride was, in this case, a heavily cursed, unwilling participant.

The only person not in motion was Silver, who stood sentry at the door. He wore a suit that looked custom-tailored for a Bond villain. His eyes, the strange licorice-black of the Licorne family line, watched me constantly, unblinking.

“Good, you’re awake!” Oonagh called out, clapping her hands. The sound was sharp as a gunshot. “Let’s see how you look with the veil.”

I struggled upright, limbs slow and shaky from whatever spell had been force on me earlier.

Linden appeared at my side, smiling down with all the smugness of a cat who’d eaten not just the canary but the entire bird store. “Mally, you look beautiful.”

“I look like a ghost that haunts JoAnn Fabrics,” I muttered.

His smile twitched, but did not fade. He took my hand in his, ignoring the fact that I instantly tried to pull away. “You’ll learn to love me.”

“Statistically, that seems unlikely,” I said, trying to focus my thoughts. My head throbbed in time to the fake wedding march playing over the mansion’s sound system. I was going to vomit, or punch something, or both.

Oonagh, oblivious, had approached with a bouquet the size of a basketball. She thrust it under my nose. The smell was so sweet it was like huffing straight-up funeral home. “Now, let’s try some makeup. We want you glowing for the wedding photos.”

“I think I’m glowing from rage,” I said, but she was already rummaging through a tackle box filled with lipsticks and eyeshadows in colors not found in nature.

Linden patted my hand, as if I needed comfort. “You’ll thank me for this someday,” he said. “I know how you get. You need direction. A strong hand.”

“Is that what you’ve been telling yourself since our days on the playground? Because that is a long time to be deluding yourself,” I said, and for the first time since waking up, I saw his smile slip.

Silver watched the exchange, his eyes sharp. I wondered why unicorns were always portrayed as whimsical and majestic. He was downright creepy right now. I ignored his intense look.

Instead, I started to focus on my magic.

I could feel it, just under my skin. It was sluggish, but it was there.

If I could just muster a little more, maybe I could get off one spell—just enough to get out a message to my sisters or mother.

I tried a simple beacon spell to alert my mom. She was so close.

My fingers began to tingle, then they sparked with faint, rose-gold light.

Oonagh’s head whipped around, a sixth sense for magical misbehavior.

Silver was faster. He flicked his wrist and cast a counter-spell so sharp I felt it slap my hand away.

The spark snuffed instantly, leaving my nerves raw and aching.

“Nice try, little witch,” Silver said, his voice cold. “But your magic won’t work here.”

“And I always thought you were the nice one,” I muttered at him.

“Power corrupts,” he said simply and eyed my belly.

So, he’d bought into the idea that my unborn baby would make them the most powerful witches in our realm.

Silver stepped closer, folding his arms. “Try again and I’ll break your fingers,” he said, totally without malice. Just a casual statement of fact.

I nodded, like I understood the rules of this game, and for now I would play along. But I wouldn’t stop looking for loopholes. Or weak points.

“So much for unicorns being all happiness and rainbows,” I grumbled.

That’s when I felt it. The faintest movement, a twitch against my hip. I thought maybe it was a muscle spasm—until the sensation repeated, sharper, like a tiny pinch.

I glanced down and saw a bump wriggling beneath the crinolines of my dress.

For a split second, I wondered if Oonagh had sewn a tracker or a bomb or a magical chastity device into the outfit.

But then I recognized the telltale pattern of the lump.

It was moving up, carefully, expertly. A crustacean’s approach. Jocko.

He must have hitched a ride during the newest abduction, burrowing into the folds of my dress like a tiny, alcoholic stowaway. He had probably played dead, or at least inebriated, while they were moving me here. I was not sure whether to feel grateful or deeply, deeply alarmed.

I angled my body, careful not to draw Silver’s attention, and stuck my hand into the depths of the skirt. Jocko latched onto my finger with both claws, then released and scurried up to the crook of my arm.

“ Mon dieu , what kind of mess have you gotten us into now?” he hissed, keeping his antennae low.

I almost cried with relief. “Keep your voice down,” I whispered.

“You look like the corpse bride?”

I glanced over my shoulder at Silver, who was distracted for the moment by Oonagh being unhappy about the placement of the floral arrangements. “We need a distraction. Can you do something?”

Jocko’s eyes narrowed, the black beads gleaming. “You want distraction, I give you distraction. But you owe me three bottles of whiskey and one bag of Zapp’s.”

“Deal. But be careful. They are straight up crazy.”

Jocko clung tighter to my arm, then with a practiced move, shimmied down the sleeve and back into the tulle. “Count to ten. Then be ready to run.”

I nodded, heart hammering. Oonagh returned to me to apply an entire tube of lipstick to my mouth, and now she and Linden were squabbling over where to position the flower arch.

Oonagh favored the end of the room, where the morning sun would stream in through the bay window.

Linden thought it should be closer to the cake.

Silver, meanwhile, was now pacing by the fireplace, eyes darting between me and the other two.

I waited, willing my body to stay still. Nine. Ten.

There was a sharp clatter. The sound of an expensive vase toppling, then the skitter of glass against marble tile.

Oonagh shrieked, “Who did that?!” and both she and Linden ran to see the damage.

Silver turned toward the commotion, just for a second.

It was enough. Jocko shot out from under the table and made a beeline for the corner, where he vanished behind the tangle of electrical cords powering the ceremonial archway.

I saw a spray of sparks and a puff of smoke as he wreaked havoc with his small claws.

The room’s lights flickered, then all the wedding music stopped at once, replaced by the eerie sound of power failing.

I tried to make a run for the door, but Silver was already at my side, gripping my arm with supernatural strength. “You don’t get another warning,” he said and twisted my wrist just enough to send fire up my nerves.

I gasped, but didn’t cry out. I needed to play this carefully. The element of surprise was gone, but maybe, just maybe, Jocko could do enough damage to buy me a second window.

The lights flickered back on, and the wedding music resumed. Oonagh joined us, face red with rage, and barked, “Don’t move until you’re called. We’ll be starting in five minutes.”

Linden came back, fixing his hair in a mirror and blowing me a kiss. “I can’t wait, darling.”

I shot him a look that would have melted tungsten.

Jocko was gone from view, but I could feel him, somewhere close. Waiting for another opportunity to create chaos.

I waited, my wrists throbbing, dress itching, but my mind clearer than it had been since this nightmare began.

The ceremony was about to start.

And I wasn’t going to let it finish.