flaring red as he also shrieked.
My heart squeezed with love for my homely horses as the fae went running back across the pasture and threw herself into one of the cars, shutting and locking the door behind her.
“Such a good boy.” I fondly patted Solstice on the shoulder.
“That’s a confirmation that two have chosen her.” The older fae woman peered down her nose at me. “But we ought to be able to make an appeal given her…human blood.” She shuddered in open revulsion, and unknowingly hit my switch.
I like to think I’m a pretty chill person, but I was proud of my human blood. Heck, it was my fae half I wasn’t thrilled about. And I wasn’t going to put up with someone criticizing me for something I was proud of.
“Okay, that’s it.” I slid my arm off Eclipse and straightened up. “You barge in here, break my fence, insult me and take potshots at my horses without even introducing yourselves? You’re awful—not to mention unwanted—guests,” I said, speaking the magic words.
All supernaturals have natural strengths and weaknesses.
Fae are really gifted with magic and are able to twist and meld it for tons of different uses—for everything from wards to mind reading to temporary love potions.
Fae also tend to be faster and stronger than the average human—although they’ve got nothing on vampires in the speed department or werewolves and shifters when it comes to strength.
The fae are powerful. And yet, they’re kept in check by some pretty iron-clad rules.
First off, they can’t lie—they are physically incapable of it. Supposedly it has something to do with the way they use magic and their bodies process it, but I never really bothered to learn for sure.
Lying isn’t as hard for them to get around as you might think—some fancy wordsmithing, a few vague sayings, and they can still manage to cheat and deceive people.
But the second big rule is etiquette. The fae are bound to lots of outdated rules of conduct. I think it’s why they always prance around acting like old nobility from Europe.
The basic gist is that they have to obey and follow their monarchs—like lying, this rule is magic bound—but they’re also supposed to be excellent guests and hosts. This is more of a cultural thing. Magic doesn’t force them to do it, and they can get around it.
But you can still use it as a verbal weapon, which is exactly what I intended to do.
My accusation of their poor conduct made the fae stand tall.
“We,” the older woman ground out, “are representatives of the Night Court.”
“How surprising. What are you doing here?” I curled my hands into fists, dreading their answer.
“We are searching for our new ruler,” Suits said.
And there we have it. The biggest mess I could ever ask for.
The previous Queen of the Night Court died late in the fall. Since it was now May, that was a really long time to go without a monarch.
“And why would you be searching for a fae monarch on human land?” I asked.
The old lady pointed accusingly at the horses. “It is the night mares.”
“What?” I asked.
“The night mares choose our monarchs. We’ve been waiting for them to choose for months,” Suits said.
Night mares? Is that what they’re called? I peered at my equine friends, who seemed entirely unconcerned with our fae visitors.
Solstice bumped my shoulder. I patted his head. “Why are they called night mares when I know that some of them are geldings?”
Suits rolled his eyes. “It’s a title—not meant to be a description. It describes the type of animal they are.”
“They could have just called them night horses,” I grumbled. “I bet that they got named so one fae could tell a half lie to someone.”
The older fae sighed. “And after our pleas, this is what they chose? A mutt?”
“We should return to the Court, to see what can be done to restart the selection process,” Suits said.
“Yeah, good luck with that,” I said. “But there’s no way I’m letting you take these guys back.”
Suits turned to me, the smooth skin of his forehead marred with a wrinkle of confusion. “What do you mean?”
I gestured to the horses around me. “They’re skeletal thin and in horrible condition.”
“Nonsense. It is merely that they have taken on the state of the Court,” the older fae woman said. “As the Night Court is unwell, so are the creatures embraced in its bosom.”
“Yeah, no. This is what happens when you don’t feed them,” I said. “And you can bet the