Fae of the South (Court of Crown and Compass Book 3) E. Hall (ebook reader macos TXT) 📖

can’t explain it. I’m filled with the urge to—” She swallows hard. “To do bad things.”

There’s no way she’s behind the spray paint. It’s the X-Crew or copycats.

“Like steal cars. There aren’t any here, but I’m sure we could stir up some trouble.” I tease her with a wink.

“No, much worse than that. We’ve learned about unseelie fae in class—” She lets the suggestion dangle. “When I’m with Emeric, it’s like he replaces that longing and I feel...peaceful, at ease.”

“Yeah, that I get.”

“You can’t possibly. You don’t belong here. You’re not fae. You don’t belong—”

“In your world,” I finish for her. “Newsflash, this is our world. We’re here, in Terra or whatever. Believe me, these last days have shocked me. If I were anyone else, I’d probably—”

“Freak out?” she finishes for me this time. “You’re not that kind of guy.”

“No, because I’m with—” You. She doesn’t finish for me. I inhale deeply. “Lea, I would like to dance with you. I want—”

She crushes her palm against my mouth, stopping me from saying more.

Obscuring her face is a mask with crystals and rubies fixed into the metal. Beneath that her eyes fill with liquid then she rushes toward the stairs.

The red feathers appear from the folds of her asymmetrical and edgy gown as if to remind me, and me alone, there’s a kind of softness beneath the exterior hardware that constructs Lea. To anyone else’s eye, the feathers might look like blood or flame, puncturing an otherwise black dress.

Maybe all of this back and forth isn’t good. Perhaps I don’t understand her. What if up here on the rooftop is our last chance together? What if I’m supposed to let the gulf between us broaden until it’s too wide to cross. She could be better off without me. With her people. The ones who understand her. Doubt creeps in. Animosity aside, maybe the division between vamps and fae is for good reason.

“Wait. One last dance.” I almost choke when I realize what I’ve said.

Lea stops and turns. Her lower lip falls. But she remains standing there as the strains of music filter from the common quad. “One last dance.”

My chest aches, but my hand lands on her low back and the other clasps hers in a fit so perfect it’s painful.

We sway and glide, and she only steps on my foot once. She doesn’t apologize, which is a promise that even though things are changing, that hasn’t. When I spin her around, her dress flairs out like she’s a bird on fire. A phoenix. We float across the roof until the space between us disappears. I feel the beat of her heart against my empty one. When the song ends, we remain like that, holding each other and overlooking the shoreline of the island, pricked with lanterns and flushed pink and apricot against the near darkness.

Her face goes slack. “We’d better get back.”

The pulsing, blazing energy of everyone in costume must point toward the Fae Courts of old. It must mean something to Lea. We hurry to the ball as drums beat out a steady rhythm. Once there, Lea’s hand slips from mine and she’s lost in the throng of satin, chiffon, and tailored cloth as everyone dances.

Headmistress Jurik appears in the center, wearing a poison green gown with ornate beaded trim. A plume of feathers juts from the sides of her mask like whiskers.

“Welcome to our annual Fae Court Masquerade Ball. Our work here at Riker’s is to reform your wicked ways and help you better learn how to live among natural mortals. For staying out of trouble, our gift is to honor one of the Fae Courts of old. In this way, you’ll see how the past shaped who we are and awaken you to the future, where, along with the natural mortals we can live side by side in peace and harmony. This year, we recognize the famed Southlands. The Court of Fire and Iron.” She raises a goblet.

I stand shoulder to shoulder with two girls I don’t recognize in their masks.

Headmistress Jurik goes on about taking a sip from the ceremonial goblet. “With a sip of stijl, you’ll soon know your purpose. There is no beginning and no end. You are here to awaken to your shadow.” She grins broadly, lizard-like.

The music swells. The dancing resumes. I scan the room for Lea. She’s with Emeric. For a moment it appears as if he’s whispering to her then they pass behind a few other dancers. When they come back into view, her eyes are glazed over and enamored. I’ve lost her.

A slight smile accentuates the smugness in Emeric’s eyes that comes from knowing he won the girl.

Lea is going to do what she’s going to do. She’s always been that way. I stuff down the disappointment that she’d dance with me and then fall back into his arms.

I sneak away from the ball. Lea’s probably right. I don’t understand, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting answers.

The administration building is dark. Of course, the front door is locked. Four small archways, on either side of the main domed entrance, coordinate with a crinkle of scalloped cutouts. Carvings and tile are set in stone. I’ve spent enough time with Lea to pay attention to easy access points. None here.

A utility door around the back has a flimsy lock. I pick it without trouble. Paintings line the walls and polished wood gleams in the dim light. I creep down the hall toward a heavy wooden door with the headmistress’s name on the front—the one I’ve now visited a couple of times. I turn the handle and hold my breath. Lea was always better at this stuff than me. I was just the accomplice.

Muted light filters through the windows. I have no idea what to look for other than the folder on