A Strange Hymn
Page 26

The worst part of the whole thing is that Temper’s power coaxes her to use it the same way my siren coaxes me to give in to my own inner darkness. It’s always there, waiting for a moment of weakness.
My friend came for me. I disappeared, and she hunted me down, working herself up into a frenzy until her power swallowed her whole. She gave up a bit of her morality for me.
It’s a totally messed up show of friendship, but one that moves me nonetheless.
I begin to lower myself to the ground, the heat and smoke of the inferno suffocating.
Callie. I sense more than hear Des’s voice in the sky above me.
I glance up at him from where he and his men linger in the sky several dozen feet away from me.
His expression says it all. He’s not okay with me getting closer. Not one bit, and he’s getting ready to intervene.
I turn away from him. Temper is my biggest concern.
She watches me the entire time I descend, the fairy she holds struggling to get away despite the fact that he’s definitely not going anywhere.
I land on the smoldering ground, the heat like an oven around us.
“You grew wings,” she says, her voice toneless.
Not hi, not how are you, or why haven’t you called? Just you grew wings. Temper’s as far gone as I’ve ever seen her.
“That motherfucker made you grow wings,” she says, the heat around me rising with her voice. Her gaze moves from me to Des.
She shoves the fairy she’s holding away from her, nearly managing to chuck him into the fire. He staggers away from the blaze just in time, and then he’s bolting, taking to the sky, muttering all sorts of obscenities that Temper doesn’t hear. Her wrath is focused on my mate.
“Whatever you’re thinking Temper, don’t,” I say, my voice low.
If she touches a hair on Des’s head, then friend or not, I’m taking her down.
Temper’s attention swings back to me, her eyes thinning menacingly. She tilts her head, trying to figure me out. “What has he done to you?”
It’s obvious she thinks that I’m the crazy one.
On a whim, I take a step forward. “Put out the flames, release your magic, and I’ll explain everything.”
Her eyes still look as alien as ever and those little bolts of lightning are still jumping from her skin, but I swear I’m getting through to her.
But then she smiles at me, and it’s positively sinister. “What if I don’t want to?”
There it is, the monster that consumes Temper.
My siren surfaces, illuminating my skin. “Don’t make me glamour you,” I state, my voice menacing.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she says.
She’s right. In any other situation, I wouldn’t. For one thing, I’m pretty sure she can overpower my glamour. For another, I’ve never wanted to be on the receiving end of her fury.
But right now, things are different.
“He’s not my betrothed, Temper. He’s my soulmate.” I never had the chance to tell her.
It’s an explanation of sorts—that I’m not being held here against my will and that I will stop her if she tries to hurt my mate.
For one long moment, Temper doesn’t react at all. Then, slowly, her eyes drift up to the Bargainer, her face expressionless.
In the sky, more fairies have joined him, not all from his kingdom by the looks of them either. Temper’s gathering a crowd, and if this doesn’t end soon, either my friend is going to get hurt, or a bunch of innocents are.
Temper’s gaze returns to me. “He’s your soulmate,” she states, her voice almost trancelike.
I nod, my skin still bright.
Protect our mate, my siren whispers, cajoling me to glamour my friend.
I keep my mouth adamantly shut.
Temper closes her eyes, and I tense. For all I know, she’s about to ignite the skies and every fairy that’s in them.
I could stop her right now. All it would take is a little of my own magic. I have every reason to do so, and my siren wants it badly.
But I don’t.
Des gave me the benefit of the doubt only minutes ago. I can do the same for Temper. So I hold my tongue and wait for her to act.
My friend’s eyes snap open, and all at once, the flames of the explosion extinguish, as though they were nothing more than birthday candles being blown out.
Temper’s irises dim, and the glowing red lines that streak through them now begin to recede. Her skin stops sparking, and that hot, overbearing power of hers finally reels itself in.
One moment she’s a savage sorceress, and the next she’s just my friend.
She lets out a faltering breath. “Girl,” she exhales, “it’s fucking good to see you.”
That’s all I need to hear. I close the last of the space between us, wrapping Temper up in a hug. Her skin feels like sunbaked sand under my touch.
“You’re going to tell me about the wings,” she says as we hug, “and that you’re a soulmate, and how the hell you ended up here. Then and only then can I promise you that I won’t fry your boyfriend’s ass.”
Now that the imminent danger is gone, I can hear the drumming of my pulse. What would’ve happened if I hadn’t come along with Des? What would’ve happened if Temper hadn’t listened to my pleas?
I squeeze her tighter. “Fair enough,” I say into her shoulder.
Around us, fairies are beginning to drop to the earth, cautiously creeping closer. I don’t know how many seconds we have left to ourselves.
I pull away from her. “I can’t believe you blew up a portal to the Otherworld.”
“Bitch, that’s just called making an entrance.”
Chapter 17
Several hours later, after many death threats (both to and from Temper), a near incarceration, and a whole lot of explaining, Temper and I are with Des and Malaki in one of the Bargainer’s private rooms.
Temper crosses her heels over the armrest of the wingback chair she’s in, her back resting against the other armrest. “So let me get this straight: you two—” she points to me and Des, “are soulmates, but you couldn’t get together for a stupidly long time because this one—” now she points to me, “made some mad-ass wish. And right after you both finally got together, she—” me again, “was thrown into a fae prison, and some psycho king decided to give her wings,”—and scales and claws—“and then you—” she points to Des, “offed that motherfucker, but now you—” me again, “are stranded here.”
“She’s not stranded here,” Des says darkly. He sits in another chair, his forearms resting heavily on his thighs.
Temper harrumphs. “Like she can just waltz her feathery ass around L.A.”
Malaki steps forward. “Why don’t we talk about the more pressing issue at the moment: you obliterated one of the Fauna Kingdom’s portals and held a fairy hostage.”
Temper folds her arms, eyeing the fairy up and down. “If you want an apology, you’re looking at the wrong girl, compadre.”
A knock on the door interrupts the conversation. Des waves his wrist, and the door opens.
The fairy on the other side bows. “My king,” he says. “Lord, ladies.” He dips his head to each of us before returning his attention to Des. “There are Fauna fae soldiers at the palace gates. They’re demanding the sorceress’s arrest.”
And that marks another attempt at incarceration.