Tuesday morning
Exhaustion overwhelmed Duncan, but he still stood straight, arms over his chest as he waited for his boss, O’Leary, to speak to him.
He’d been combing the desert for hours after talking to Cara’s parents. Using magic, he’d projected the path of the sandstorm that scooped her up and followed it all across the desert. He flew low enough at some points to drag his fingers in the sand and looked for some sign of Cara.
He found where she’d landed, the energy of the scream still marked the ground, but there was no more trail.
Other FID, including Reese, had looked, but no one could come up with anything. The magic swirling around the desert was enough that even a human would notice, if anyone happened to be nearby. Fortunately, the regular hundred and ten plus degrees of the desert kept most humans out of the area for extended periods of time.
Duncan had felt the resonating energy, both from Cara’s scream—even after a full day since its release—and from the magic the other FID had used to try and find her. He tracked the magic all over, flying so low over the dunes it took a good hour in a shower cleaning off all the sand, though he was pretty sure it still was lodged in places.
Duncan had hoped, with his telepathy, he’d be able to find Cara. Their connection had been so strong for most of her life, he’d thought he’d be able to get a glimmer of her somewhere. That his connection would be better.
Yet it had been fruitless.
He hadn’t wanted to quit; he would still be out there looking for Cara if O’Leary hadn’t demanded him to come in for a debriefing.
So now he stood in the office, waiting for his boss to acknowledge him.
Finally, O’Leary met his gaze. “Quite a clusterfuck you find yourself in, Molar.”
Duncan nodded.
“At least ye saved the Merrow Kingdom. The banshee, however…”
Duncan gritted his teeth. “Cara.” Why does everyone call her a banshee? She’s a person. Named Cara.
That I love…
The words hit him in his gut. Because he knew they were true the moment he thought them. He was in love with her. Without question.
Not that he hadn’t loved her before, but now that he’d made love to her? When they’d connected in a way that he’d never expected? Anything he was holding back burst forward, ramming him in the eye.
How shitty was fate that he’d finally realized he loved her, and now she was gone?
He’d never even gotten the chance to tell her.
O’Leary jarred him from his epiphany. “Aye, Cara. Still no sign of her?”
Duncan shook his head.
O’Leary sighed. “Well, she’s likely to turn up, laddy. Someone would be havin’ a scream if she were gone.” He shuffled papers on his desk, and ran his wand over them, making them float in the air and slip into a file cabinet. Then he glanced back at Duncan. “You be lookin’ like you need some rest, boy.”
Duncan nodded. “Been an exhausting couple of days.”
“Go take some time, and we’ll get you back on that Fairy Godmother case I pulled you off. Make sure that’s going well.”
Ava’s case… Duncan hadn’t thought about it since Cara vanished. Stars, he hoped Ava was behaving herself.
“Go. We’ll take care of that Fairy Godmother tomorrow.”
Duncan nodded and waved his wand, transporting himself back to his little home, where he could get some rest.
Maybe.
Tuesday evening
“We cannot allow Fairy Godmothers to behave like this,” Anteros said to O’Leary.
Duncan rubbed his head. He might actually kill Ava the next time he saw her. A few hours sleep had not prepared him for this mess. What had she been up to while he’d been gone?
Wait, he had a pretty good idea.
Ava’d been all googly eyed at her charge, Jason, since she’d gotten him. And now she’d sought help from Anteros? Anteros, with his thick build and dark hair was the antithesis of his brother Cupid, the god of love. Anteros, the god of unreturned love, was—most of the time—a friend to the Fairy Godmothers. If only to keep his meddling brother out of the picture.
But why would Ava go see him over this? That, Anteros would not explain, only that she’d confided in him a story that went against every Fairy Realm law.
What in the world did she think this would accomplish? Duncan rubbed his eyes, hoping some beam of understanding would hit him.
O’Leary must have had the same concerns. “And why would she come to you, Anteros?” O’Leary put his hands on his hips as he glared at the god.
Anteros waved his hand in the air. “Ava thinks her file is wrong.”
“Wait, what?” Duncan asked. The file—what all Fairy Godmothers got when they were given a new assignment—was magical, and tied to the charge. They were always right. “The file is connected to her charge. It changes because of his actions—”
Anteros raised his eyebrow. “Your fairy has been trying to change it.”
“Ava’s not that powerful!” Duncan snapped, and all the details of her case coming back in a flash. “Son of a Krakon, she’s had help on almost all of her charges over her tenure. By your brother.”
Anteros didn’t even flinch at Duncan’s words.
“Why would she think her file’s wrong now? It’s not like she can change it—the magic’s too strong,” Duncan snapped.
“There is one way…” O’Leary said.
And Duncan might as well been hit over the head with a cast-iron skillet. Because it hit him that hard what they meant.
Ava has been sleeping with her charge.
Duncan shook his head. “I may kill her.” And then something clicked in his head. “Wait, if she’s been intimate with her charge, why hasn’t the file changed?” The file was self-adjusting. It changed according to the choices the charge made. If the charge was more attracted to a different person in the listings, the list adjusted itself.
Duncan glanced at Anteros.
Anteros shrugged. “I know nothing.”
From the look on his face, Duncan was pretty sure that Anteros knew something.
“Regardless, she’s broken the laws. She has to be arrested, pending trial,” O’Leary said. “Fornication with a charge is against the rules.”
“Unless they’re in love,” Duncan said.
Both men glanced at him, but neither looked happy about his particular observation.
“It matters not, if they are not meant to be together. Which obviously, they aren’t,” O’Leary said, gesturing to the file that Anteros had brought with him.
“Ava loves him, I can guarantee you that,” Anteros added as he tapped his finger against his lip. “But I doubt the human feels the same way, or the file would change.” He stroked the bundle of colorful folders on the desk.
“If she loves him, shouldn’t she be allowed to be with him?” Duncan snapped. “Not be forced to watch from afar for all of his life?”
Anteros glared at Duncan. “For some, that is our lot in life. To watch from afar.”
Duncan’s gut kicked. Because he knew Anteros meant himself, but the words were a bit too close to home for him as well.
Though Duncan lost his love—literally.
It was almost the same thing.