“Yes, I know. I watched.” My grandmother—an odd noun to use in reference to this stranger who wasn’t a stranger—sighed. “I know we decided to keep her innocent in order to help her better assimilate and go undetected, but she was clearly a little too innocent.”
“Pierre and I went through all the exercises you recommended,” my mother responded, her voice holding an edge to it. “I’m not sure what we could have done to better prepare her.”
The cruel-eyed woman waved away the commentary. “I don’t want to hear excuses, Mystika. What I want to hear are solutions.”
“We tell her everything and explain what’s at stake,” my mother instantly replied. “He already knows she’s a threat. But he can’t kill her.”
“But he can imprison her,” the female replied. “And we know how much he enjoys his prisons.”
Who are we talking about?I wondered, staring between them.
I was missing details.
Hell, I was missing a lot more than simple details.
Why is my mind so foggy?
Where the fuck am I?
And why do I know this woman?
“All the more reason to tell her everything so she can be prepared to fight him. She’s already weakened him substantially. It won’t take much to finish the process.”
The female shook her head, disagreeing. “This has to be done properly. Siphon the light, then negotiate. You know everything is about deals, darling.”
My gaze narrowed.Darlingwas the term my mother used for me. It sounded sweet, but it was actually meant to be condescending. And it seemed she’d learned it from this woman.
“Why do I know you?” I demanded, somehow finding my voice. It came out strong, pleasing me greatly.
However, it had the opposite impact on the black-haired angel before me.
She gave me a look so deadly I almost took a step back. “I’m your flesh and blood, girl. That’s how you know me.”
I started to shake my head but stopped when her eyes narrowed.
Wow, if looks could kill, I would be a dead fae.
Something about that thought triggered an onslaught of rules to roll through my mind.
Hell Fae Rule #2: Don’t Draw Attention.
Hell Fae Rule #3: Know Your Enemy Before Engaging.
Hell Fae Rule #1: Don’t Die.
They weren’t in order, but that didn’t matter. They all applied.
“Apologize to your grandmother, Camillia,” my mother demanded.
“Ugh, enough with the familial title,” the female grated out.
“I’m sorry, Vivaxia,” my mother said. “Apologize to our Virtuous Fae Queen, Camillia. Right now.”
My mouth opened to obey, but the words… the words didn’t come out.
Because that name—Vivaxia—meant something to me.
Something important.
