I lounge on the couch in my family’s penthouse. This is my favorite spot since it sports a fireplace and awesome view of Manhattan. And let’s not forget the kick-ass gaming station that’s set into one wall.
My buddy Knox is camped out on the same couch, too. We’re playing a new game called Magicorum Killers. Humans can pretend they’re a shifter, witch, or fairy and then go fight evildoers. It’s hilarious, considering how I’m a wizard and Knox is a shifter. We’re also wardens of magic, which make us tops in power for our Magicorum type.
Long story short, there definitely are times when Knox and I must kick some troll butt or whatever. It’s just bizarre to see it on screen. And did I mention that I’m seriously losing this game? My skills are way off this afternoon. Not that I’ll admit such a thing to Knox.
I shoot my buddy a snide grin. “My controller’s broken.”
“Is not. I just kicked your ass, fair and square.” Knox is tall and ripped, same as me. Early growth spurts go with the whole warden situation. Unlike me, Knox has black hair, heavy brows, and a super-short temper. I’m more of the blond haired, blue eyed, and charming type.
“Best out of nine,” I counter.
Knox shrugs. “Whatever you say.”
Once we restart, I keep screwing up all the electronic spells. It’s like my fingers won’t move fast enough or something. On screen, a pack of vampires corner me in short order.
A note on vamps. It’s funny how humans know all about the Magicorum, but they’re oblivious to trolls, vampires, and the like. Sure, humans sense the danger when a vamp or whatever is near, but that’s it. The reason? Those supernatural folks—what we call the shadowcoe—are experts at staying hidden. Good for them.
In the game, I’m finally able to take down the vamps. Still, something feels off. On reflex, I pause everything and look to Knox. A question falls from my mouth. “Do you ever think about our fairy tale life templates?”
One great thing about Knox: when he isn’t enraged, my bud is super calm. At this point, anyone else would complain that I stopped the game. Knox stays totally chill.
“Nah,” Knox replies. “I think about how to kick Jules’ ass, only worse than I’m kicking yours.” Jules is the leader of a group of zombie-mummies who murdered Knox’s parents.
“Makes sense. Normally, I’m right with you. Unless my parents are going on about my Glass Slipper Ball, I don’t think about my life template at all.”
Knox tilts his head. The movement reminds me of the massive black wolf he carries inside him. “What’s up?”
I debate about lying or restarting the game. Once again, those are my plans. But different words tumble from my mouth, all on their own. “I had this crazy dream last night.”
“Was it a dream … or a magical message?”
“Hard to tell. I saw the Queen of Hearts.”
Knox’s upper lip curls with a look I like to call his protective growl. “She’s dangerous.”
“The queen told me that Legend would one day form an evil alliance to keep me from my true love.”
“Huh.” Knox purses his lips. “Not a surprise that the Queen of Hearts would get interested in a warden’s love life. But Legend forming an evil alliance against you?” Knox gives me a look that says, we both know who he really wants to hurt.
As if on cue, my father saunters into the room. Legend is all blonde hair, blue eyes, and magnetic charm. Tonight Dad looks like an older surfer in a three piece suit.
Beside Legend stands my mother, Diamond. She moves with a ballet dancer’s grace, mostly because she used to be one. Her long brown hair falls in waves down her back. My mother looks runway-ready, even if she’s wearing a sweat suit, which is what she sports today.
Speaking of Diamond, she rounds on me. “Tell your father that he needs to attend the Le Charme grand opening in New Jersey.”
Legend lifts his chin. “Tell your mother that I’ll attend when the opening is actually scheduled.”
Welcome to the ongoing battle over Le Charme Jewelers that is my parents’ existence. Once in a while, I get in the middle of their marital war. Whenever I’m dragged into such a fight, I find it’s easiest to put on my mental armor and battle fast.
I look to my mother. “Diamond, he’ll go to the opening.” Next I focus on my father. “Legend, she knows you hate Jersey, so don’t try to weasel out at the last minute.” My gaze flicks between them. “Are we done here?”
Without another word, my parents march off to their separate rooms, slamming doors behind them as they go. Normally, this scene would prompt me to want to punch someone. For some reason, their actions today only remind me of the Queen of Hearts.
I return my focus to Knox. “About that dream.”
“What about it?”
“It makes me wonder. My parents both have life templates for the Cinderella story.”
“Yeah.”
“The queen talked about my true love. That’s Cinderella template stuff. But with my parents?” I hitch my thumb in the direction where they marched off. “I don’t think they’re each other’s true loves.”
“I get that.” Knox itches his neck. It’s a move that means he’s thinking something through. “Unless you say their one true love isn’t a person. It could be Le Charme Jewelers.”
Those words are totally foreign and familiar, all at once. “What makes you say that?”
“Because I’ve known you forever? It’s the only thing your parents really care about … outside of you. I mean, stop me if I’m wrong. I’m just your friendly neighborhood werewolf.”
“No, you’re not wrong.”
“And?” prompts Knox.
I lean back into the couch and admit the awful truth. “I don’t want to turn out like them.”
“I get that, too.”
All of a sudden, it feels like the walls of this spacious penthouse press in around me. “Do you think we’re locked into our fairy tale life template?”
Knox bares his teeth. It’s the face he makes when disgusted. “Fate … Fairy tale life templates … Those are things adults talk about because they screwed up their own lives and want an excuse.” Knox fixes me with his most serious stare. “You get what I mean, yeah?”
Nodding, I try to process all this. Are fairy tale templates real? And do my parents truly love Le Charme Jewelers most of all? Good questions. Yet whatever the answer, I meant what I said to Knox.
I do not want to end up like them.
“So.” I raise my not-so-broken controller. “Are we playing best of nine or what?”
Knox chuckles. “Prepare to get your ass kicked.”
“Maybe.” And somehow, it feels like that statement is about far more than this game.