Page 85 of Fae Farewells

I could see, hear them talking... But it was foggy, like listening underwater. Novak’s chaotic energy bounced around my mind before settling down as the calming presence of Vaughn washed over us both. I loved how opposite they were... Yet their presence twinned together, creating intricate swirls of light blues and dark reds through my mind.

Then I felt Franklin, steady and ancient. Powerful beyond what I could comprehend right now, but I could sense his age and wisdom before the pain set in.

Valano was behind the agony racing across my thoughts. He was patient and gentle despite every tug or nip feeling like molten steel in my veins. It ran through every part of my body until I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even gasp.

My vision went white, and my ears screeched for seconds or minutes or hours... And then everything began to slowly fade back into existence.

The first thing I saw was Vaughn leaning over me as Novak spoke.

“You’ve changed so much in the last couple of weeks. I’m really proud of you.”

My fae grinned, not turning to look at my vampire as he asked, “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Novak sang. “What’s for dinner?”

I chuckled dryly. “Not me.”

“How are you feeling?” Vaughn murmured, wiping his thumbs across my cheeks.

“Like I got hit by a semi-truck,” I confessed. “Or maybe a train, but not a fun one.”

“You left us for a minute there, Trouble,” Novak stated, gnawing at his lip.

I straightened in the chair, my muscles screaming at me. “Were you able to get the locks in place?”

“Yes,” my fae answered. “They should hold for a few hours, but it’s not a permanent solution.”

“I don’t need it to be permanent.”

I glanced around, blinking rapidly when I saw Franklin sitting in the grass drinking scotch with Valano. They both shot to their feet as a shadow passed over the ground. A thump followed the rustle of leaves before a man walked out of the forest in nothing but shorts.

“Thatcher?” Vaughn inquired. “Why are you here?”

The newcomer grabbed Franklin’s mug as he walked by, throwing the scotch back in one quick swig. “I was tracking the summer soldiers.”

“What was that?” I asked. “I don’t think I heard you properly.”

“The summer soldiers,” he repeated.

Vaughn held his hand out, helping me steady myself. “Freya and I heard a guard talking about a message he delivered for Alania. I asked Thatcher to look into it.”

“And I did,” he told us. “There are summer soldiers on their way to the palace right now.”

My fae nodded thoughtfully. “We should have a few day—”

“Hours,” Thatcher interjected. “Very few hours.”

“I’m sorry?” Vaughn leaned forward. “How long?”

“They’ll be here by mid-morning, if not before.”

I studied Thatcher as I questioned him. “How many are we talking about?”

“I counted at least two dozen,” he responded before adding, “Give or take a handful.”

“Those odds aren’t terrible,” Briggs remarked.

“They’re trained warriors,” Vaughn countered. “And we don’t know what Sloane can do now, or if she’ll be able to stand on her own.”