When Magic Falls Read online

  She studied him, looking for similarities. Familiarities. He was average height, just a few inches taller than her, with wheat-colored hair a shade darker than Mel’s. But it was in the eyes that she saw the most striking resemblance. His were the exact shade of pale blue that stared back at her in the mirror every morning.

  He grinned and started to reach for her.

  Mel didn’t stop to think. She just reacted.

  Her arm drew back and then landed a punch square in Belemus’s gut. His liver, if she had to guess.

  He looked up at her, his eyes wide with shock.

  “That was for abandoning my mom when she was pregnant, douchebag.”

  “What?” her father gasped. “I did no such thing.”

  The nerve. “Of course you did! Otherwise I would know you already.”

  Belemus recovered from the suckerpunch enough to stand up. For a moment, Mel thought he might want to punish her for that. He was a god, after all. Weren’t they notorious for vengeance and all that?

  But he just shook his head and kept smiling.

  “Your mother sent me away,” he said. “I told her who I was, and she wanted nothing more to do with me.”

  Mel stared at him. “You’re not serious.”

  Her father shrugged and reached out a hand to touch her hair. “I loved your mother,” he said, his eyes going all dreamy. “I wished to bring her with me, to join me in the immortal realm.”

  The immortal realm? That was a new one.

  “Really? And she said no?”

  Belemus nodded.

  Typical. Just typical. Her mom had the chance to become a freaking immortal, but she chose to stay in the Redwood Acres Mobile Home Park and date her way through every loser in the state.

  “Are you sure you explained it properly?” she asked him.

  He shrugged. “Your mother is an enigma.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “Your mother is—”

  “Don’t.” Mel held up a hand to stop him. “I’ve lived with her for seventeen years. I know.”

  He couldn’t stop staring at her. She supposed she could understand his fascination, since she couldn’t stop staring at him. After all these years, a father-daughter reunion. It was unreal.

  Belemus gestured to the door. “There is a young man out there who is quite concerned for your safety.”

  Mel grinned. “Yeah, I know. He’s helping me learn to use my magic.” She felt her cheeks burn with a blush that she almost never felt. “I guess that’s your magic.”

  He shook his head. “It is yours as well.” He flicked his blue gaze again at the window. “You should probably get back to your training. Tomorrow is a big night.”

  “Tell me about it.” When he started to do just that, she held up her hand again. “So, can we get together again? Like maybe have a regular coffee date or something?”

  “I do not drink coffee,” he replied, “but I would very much like to have a regular meeting.” He reached out his hand and brushed it over her hair again. “I would very much like to know you, daughter.”

  He stepped back.

  “All you need do is call.”

  She smiled and nodded. “I will.”

  As Mel watched her father disappear in a flash of light, she wondered at just how much her life had turned upside down in a few short days. And how much it might change in the next few.

  “Are you ready to continue training?” Liam asked from the doorway.

  “Yes, drill sergeant,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “Let’s get to work.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  On Saturday morning, Liam waited in the queen’s garden, as he had the previous mornings. Despite Mel’s protests that she was not a morning person, she had arrived on time each day.

  He checked the sun’s position in the sky.

  She was late.

  He waited a while longer, constantly checking the sun’s progress. The more time that passed, the more nervous he became. He began pacing back and forth across the grass. When it approached nearly half an hour past their appointed time, he decided to check her chamber.

  As he walked through the palace, his imagination went wild. His heart pounded like giants’ footsteps in his chest. In a flash he pictured countless possibilities—nearly all of them involved Ultan and none of them ended well for Mel.

  Then, as he was about to ascend the stairs to the residential wing, his mind suddenly filled with a vision.

  Mel walking through the forest.

  He couldn’t explain it, but somehow he felt the peace within her.

  Liam had heard of connections such as this, fae who could sense loved ones from a great distance. He had never experienced it himself. None in the Moraine had been magically strong enough to do so for centuries.

  Clearly, Mel’s magic was strong enough for both of them.

  He closed his eyes to focus on the vision.

  At first, the forest looked much like any other. Lush, green, dense evergreen forest with little undergrowth. The lands of the Moraine were covered in forest just like this one. She could have been anywhere.

  She wasn’t following any path he could see.

  Then, all of a sudden, she rounded a massive tree and he knew. He should have recognized the route, for he had traveled it countless times himself.

  He spun on his heel and headed for the side door out of the palace.

  A few minutes later, her reached her destination. She sat on the small rock formation, overlooking the kidney-shaped pond when he regularly dunked himself in icy water to regain control over his desire for power.

  Legs splayed out in front of her, she leaned back on her hands with her face turned up to the sun. He had never seen her look quite so happy. So content.

  He made his approach as silently as possible.

  “I knew you’d find me,” she said before he had taken two steps.

  He closed the distance to the rocky surface in three long strides. “Did you?”

  She turned toward him. “How did I know?”

  He climbed up onto the rock and sat down next to her.

  “Wait, how did you find me?”

  “I had a vision,” he explained. “I saw you in the forest. I saw you coming here, I recognized the pond.”

  He picked up a small stone and sent it skipping across the water.

  “Impressive.” She picked up a stone of her own. Hers skipped twice as far as his. “Do you get these visions often?”

  He shook his head. “Never.”

  She gave him a sideways glance. “Never?”

  “They are a very ancient form of magic,” he explained, his heart feeling like it might explode in his chest. “My clan has not been able to use such magics for generations.”

  “Perks of being a demigoddess?” she asked.

  He sensed that she was only half-joking.

  “We must have formed some kind of connection during your training.” His heart felt like it might explode out of his chest. “A bond that linked your magic to mine.”

  She started tracing shapes on the surface of the rock. “I…I like the sound of that.”

  Unfortunately, so did he. He felt the sparks whenever she entered the room. He knew her emotions charged his magics faster and stronger than any other human he had ever seen. He ached when she wasn’t there and lit up when she was. In only a few short days, it felt as though she had been woven into the fabric of his very essence.

  But such a connection could not be safe. Not for her. Not for either of them.

  He had to make her understand.

  “Mel, we can’t be more than this.” He wasn’t quite sure what he meant by this. He only hoped she understood his intention.

  She was quiet for such a long time that he wondered if she hadn’t heard him.

  “Yeah, I know,” she finally said. “Different worlds and all that.”

  He started to correct her, to explain that it wasn’t their differences that needed to keep them apart. It was n
othing to do with her at all. It was only him. It was his dangerous magic addiction and the threat he posed to any human that tempted him.

  But if their differences was enough explanation for her, then he would let her believe that. Better that she think they were too different than learn the truth. That if they allowed their connection to grow, the consequences might be fatal.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mel had never felt more like an imposter. The queen was taking the whole fake engagement ball way too seriously and had insisted that both Winnie and Mel undergo complete makeovers by the palace beauty staff.

  After Mel had gotten over the shock of learning that there was such a thing as a palace beauty staff, she had begrudgingly resigned herself to the full royal treatment. If it helped Ultan believe that the ball was real, she would tie on pointe shoes and dance Swan Lake across the parapet.

  Two hours of poking, prodding, and painting later, Mel stood in front of the mirror and barely recognized herself. With her makeup delicately applied and her hair twisted up into some complicated spiral of braids and curls, she looked more like some fairy tale princess than plain old Mel. And the dress? The dress was absolutely ridiculous. An honest-to-goodness ball gown. The pale lavender fluff cascaded to the floor in layer-after-layer of ruffles. The thinnest straps she had ever seen were all that held up the bodice.

  Was she supposed to be playing the role of bait or cake topper?

  “What do you think?” Winnie asked.

  Mel twisted to face her, the lavender ruffles swirling half a beat behind the rest of her.

  Mel’s jaw dropped.

  “Win!” she cried. “You look like a legit princess.”

  Winnie had undergone the same makeover as Mel. Only instead of her hair being twisted up into a complicated up-do, it flowed down over her shoulders in thick brown waves. And her dress was the strapless version of Mel’s in the exact shade of bright pink as the roses in the queen’s garden.

  Winnie gave her a hesitant smile. “You like it?”

  “You should be on a book cover.”

  “And you!” Winnie gestured at Mel’s appearance. “You look like—”

  “A wedding cake?”

  Winnie moved to her side and linked her arm through Mel’s, turning them both to face the full-length mirror. “I was going to say goddess.”

  Mel barked out a laugh. Before Winnie showed up at her door earlier that week and told she was actually a fae demigoddess, that wouldn’t have been nearly as funny.

  Even though she felt like one of those silly dolls her mom tried to get her to play with when she was little—Mel always preferred building epic things out of Legos—she had to admit that she didn’t totally hate the look.

  It was probably the most impractical and difficult to maneuver thing she had ever worn, but she didn’t hate it.

  She looked like a whole new Mel. And, in some ways, she was a whole new Mel. Or at least half new. The fae half she had never known before.

  Two dramatically different halves.

  Liam’s words from earlier that day echoed in her mind. We can’t be more than this. They were too different. Weren’t they?

  But then she looked at Winnie and Cathair, the human and the fae so in love that they were willing to risk everything for each other.

  “How do you do it?” Mel asked.

  “Do what?” Winnie replied absently, smoothing down a wayward hair.

  “Go back and forth between the two worlds.”

  Winnie turned to face her. “I don’t know,” she said. “I just do.”

  Mel huffed out an unamused laughed.

  “It helps that Aunt Maureen knows. She understands.” Winnie beamed. “And now so do you.”

  Mel tried to picture her mom being that understanding. Then again, according to Belemus, her mom already knew about the fae realm. Maybe it would be such a leap.

  She and her mom were definitely going to have a serious talk when she got home.

  Mel didn’t know if she could divide her life the way Winnie had. But she knew that part of her was already connected to this world—and to one particular fae within it. When this thing with Ultan was over, she would have to make some decisions. Until then, she had a traitor to catch.

  “Are you ready to dance the night away?” Winnie asked.

  “If by that you mean play bait for a murderous psychopath who wants to drain my blood,” Mel said with a sarcastic smile, “then absolutely.”

  “Good,” Winnie replied, undeterred and her smile bigger than ever. “Because I think magical things are going to happen tonight.”

  Mel had a feeling too. But she didn’t think that terror and bloodshed were what Winnie had in mind.

  She only hoped that it was her fear producing those images, not an actual vision.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The crush of people in the ballroom made Liam nervous. There were too many variables, too many places for Ultan to hide. Too many ways for the situation to get out of their control fast.

  But a part of him couldn’t look at the joy on the faces of his clanfolk and not be pleased. It had been many decades since the Moraine had something worth celebrating. Decades of despair and dwindling power.

  All of it washed away by the possibility of a new princess.

  Still, he could not shake the sense of foreboding.

  He knew they had every possible safeguard in place. Archers on the parapets. Guards at every possible entrance and exit. Tearloch had called on the Deachair princess’s half-sister, the witch Callistra, to cast spells of protection over the palace and one especially strong one over Mel herself. The tracking charm alone should guarantee that Ultan didn’t get far with Mel, even if he managed to thwart the defenses.

  And Liam had spent the last few days training her to exhaustion, making sure she had enough control of her magic to protect herself if all else failed.

  Would it be enough? Only time would tell.

  He stood with the prince at the base of the entrance stairs, waiting for Winnie and Mel to arrive.

  He had to admit, the queen had pulled out all the stops on the decor.

  The entire room glowed with candle light, elegant tapers glittering in dozens of wall sconces and the four massive chandeliers overhead, and then reflected in the walls made of mirrors. The floor itself glowed with a special kind of luminescent magic the queen had commissioned for the occasion.

  But the crowning touch was the sea of rose petals that floated above the crowd. A sky of blushing pink.

  It was enchanting.

  Suddenly, a collective gasp washed across the crowded room. His first thought was that Ultan had made his appearance early. Liam reached for his sword, but the prince stopped him.

  Liam followed the direction of Cathair’s gaze, up the staircase toward the entrance.

  At the top, Mel and Winnie stood. The magic around them paled in comparison to their beauty. They looked like delicate, delectable confections in pink and purple.

  Mel caught him staring and her cheeks flushed bright red.

  Liam could not stop staring.

  Cathair ascended the stairs two at a time. When he reached his love, he gently took her hand, lifted it, and pressed a kiss to the back of her palm. Liam had never seen his friend look so very happy.

  Cathair turned to face the ballroom.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the Clan Moraine,” he shouted, “maybe I present my future bride, Miss Winnifred May Price.”

  Winnie smacked him gently on the shoulder, possibly at his use of her full name. But the smile on her face expressed her true feelings.

  Mel looked away from the enthralled lovebirds. Lifting the voluminous skirt of her gown, she carefully started down the steps. Liam rushed to her side.

  “Don’t. Say. A word,” she ground out.

  He nearly asked, About what? but then thought better of it.

  “This,” she replied, as though he had spoken his question out loud. She tugged at the top layer of her skirt. �
��It makes me look ridiculous.”

  As they reached the base of the stairs, Liam said, “I have never seen anyone look less ridiculous.”

  She gave him a sideways glance, but did not comment.

  He forced himself to stop staring, to look out over the ballroom and content himself to stand at her side. But all he could think about was how he wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go.

  “Now that the betrothed couple has arrived,” the queen’s voice called out across the room, “it is time for the first dance.”

  She gestured to the orchestra, which instantly began to play.

  As Cathair led Winnie to the center of the dance floor, all eyes were on them. Liam cast a glance at Mel and saw what he thought were tears glistening in her eyes.

  He wanted to do something—to reach out, take her hand, say something—but he didn’t know what. He had no words.

  Something shifted in the air. Liam couldn’t put his finger on it, but the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

  “Liam?” Mel’s voice sounded as concerned and confused as he felt.

  The rose petals started to fall to the floor. At first, Liam thought that could be part of the queen’s plans.

  Then the candles blew out. All at once. As if a tornado had swept through the room, targeting the flickering flames exclusively.

  Only the glow of the enchanted floor remained to light the room.

  And then that, too, went out.

  He sensed something that he could only describe as a shadow, a cold wind that rushed past his shoulder.

  Ultan.

  “Mel,” Liam called out, reaching for her hand.

  She wasn’t there.

  He reached around blindly in the black, but the space next to him was empty.

  He tried to access his magic, tried to produce a glow that would let him see what was going on. But he couldn’t. His magic wouldn’t work.

  His heart pounded into his throat.

  “Calm down,” he heard Tearloch shout to the panicking crowd. “We are fetching lanterns.”

  Liam did not wait for light. Ultan had taken Mel. And the longer he had her, the more at risk she was. The more likely he would carry out his nefarious plan—killing Mel and resurrecting the Dark Clan.