“You have a footman?” I ask, my gaze ricocheting from the marble walls veined with gold to the huge fountain in the center of the lobby. We’re in Manhattan, inside the first floor of the Woolworth Tower where Mack’s parents live. The plan is to stop by to say hello and then go dress shopping. Evelyn, who already has her dress, is here to help us make the right decisions, whatever that means.
“Wait,” Mack says, “we just traveled through a portal to Manhattan from Everwilde, and your mind is blown over a footman?”
It’s true. If anything should have blown my mind, it’s the charm on her bracelet that, when pressed where portals are allowed, forms a portal to her house in the Untouched Zone. It’s a recent gift from her parents for passing midterms.
But I’m already accustomed to magic and its many, many conveniences. We can set the temperature in our dorm just by telling the magical fire what degree we want the room kept, we can find our place in the academy books just by saying, “nerum lantius,” which means find last page read.
And today, in the commons, I discovered a magical coffee mug that fills to the brim with hot, delicious lattes whenever I ask.
I’m a little annoyed that it took me this long to find that party trick, but, yeah, magic has lost its wowing abilities. On the other hand, the Upper East Side of Manhattan is blowing my mind.
I tug on the hem of my tight blouse, trying to pull it down to cover my navel. “He was wearing livery, for Fae’s sake!”
The charm on her bracelet was supposed to take us into the lobby of her apartment, but apparently it needs tweaking because it spat us onto the street outside the Gothic skyscraper.
She sighs as we enter an elevator with an operator—because rich people can’t punch their own buttons, apparently. The operator hardly glances at the two sprites fluttering about our heads.
He must see this stuff all the time.
According to Mack, this building was one of the first to allow integration, and they have a least twelve Fae families who split their time between here and Everwilde.
Just like the footman, the operator gives Mack a curt nod. “Penthouse floor, Miss Fairchild?”
“Yes, please, Mr. Phillips,” Mack says before throwing me a sheepish grin. “What?”
The Penthouse? I mouth.
She shrugs. “Go big or go home, right?”
Mr. Phillips—an older gentleman with a gray handlebar mustache—and I exchange a look. The kind of look between two people who will never own an apartment in any floor of this building.
As soon as we exit, I follow Mack and Evelyn down a mirrored hallway. Soft cream rugs line the white marble floor. I frown at myself in the mirror. My jeans—Mack’s jeans—are stained from overuse, and the sleeves of the gold jacket she gave me to finish off the ensemble hits just below my elbow.
I refused to take any of the clothes from the prince’s manor, but now I regret my stubbornness. I’m meeting Mack’s parents. By now, after hearing all of Mack’s stories, I practically love them, even though I’ve never met them. I want to make a good impression.
“Stop fussing, you look great,” she orders as she drags me to the dark gray door. “Tell her, Evelyn.”
Evelyn gives a feeble nod. This is the least I’ve ever heard her talk.
The moment the bell rings, an excited cry comes from the other side and the door swings open. Two men wrap Mack in an embrace.
Startled by the unannounced hugging, I retreat a step as I study them. Both men are handsome, in their mid-forties, and in good shape. But that’s where the similarities end. The one who practically lifted Mack off her feet has soft green eyes, cropped red hair that’s thinning on top, and thick muscles that scream CrossFit at least twice a day.
The other man is dark skinned and wears a dinner jacket with fashionably distressed jeans. He’s slender and tall, with a shaved head and impeccable eyebrows. I have him pegged as more of an elliptical/hot yoga kind of guy.
As if just remembering me, Mack ducks from the red-haired man’s grasp and shoots me a smile. “Summer Solstice, meet my dads, Nick”—she nods to the red-haired dude—“and Sebastian.”
Dads? Both men are beaming their picket-fence straight teeth at me. Then Nick grabs me in a vise-like hug. “So this is the girl we’ve already heard so much about.”
I lock eyes with Mack, wondering exactly what she told them about