Chapter 10

The front door slammed open, and the blast of frigid air it let in didn’t just come from the icy weather when Serena’s faerie godmother stalked into the house. Cold fury carried her right into the parlor where the Balefire reacted by shooting up green sparks. Kaine’s giggle sounded loud in the sudden silence.

“You,” she pointed at Evian, who cradled the baby in her arms, “are a stain on the name of faerie godmother. Look at you, cavorting with your charge. It’s unnatural and it sets a bad example for others. If you had any dignity, you’d step aside and let someone else take over.”

Was that even possible?

Deliberately, Evian handed me the baby and turned to face her accuser. Ocean-blue eyes turned stormy, and I backed away because first, this wasn’t my first time around a furious faerie of the elemental variety, and second, I’m not an idiot.

The same could not be said of Fawn.

Not good. This is not good. Do something. Lexi repeated what I already knew when the air in the room turned heavy and the floor rumbled. What on earth was Fawn thinking to come here and use her industrial-sized opener on a can of faerie worms?

Despite Kaine’s obvious effect on people, the faeries could override his magic if not his adorable face, and not even he could stop this fight from starting. Fawn had it coming, anyway. She’d tossed down the gauntlet, and now she’d pay the price.

The chill in the room intensified by another few degrees. “How dare you suggest I’m unfit for my duties? Did someone die and make you queen?” Where most voices might go up an octave, Evian’s dropped and her tone reminded me of whale song. Appropriate, I supposed, given her affinity for water.

Droplets of moisture formed around her, but it was the force of Vaeta’s anger that lowered the temperature and let them freeze. Evian’s blue hair went ice white, literally, but Fawn lacked the sense to shut up and leave. A pity.

She puffed out her chest, lifted her chin, and sneered. “Good thing for you the answer is no. If I were queen, you’d be getting a demotion to junior tooth faerie for the next thousand years until you proved yourself capable of handling sensitive situations.”

And then she capped it by extending the slur to the rest of the family. “Not that I should have expected more from an elemental. Unfocused, the lot of you.”

“Exactly how sensitive is the situation?” Evian demanded. “We’ve shown ourselves to Lexi for her entire life and the world hasn’t rained down sulfur. With the queen’s blessing, I might add.”

The queen they were referring to happened to be a Balefire witch, though one I’d never have the good fortune to meet. She lived in the Faelands, wife of the Faerie King, and was incapable of returning to the human realm. It’s a long story, but the point is that Fawn had no better idea of the queen’s opinion on godmother-witch charge relationships than any of the rest of us.

“Blessing? Ha. Is that why you’re not allowed in the Faelands anymore?” Fawn pressed. She was partially right, but there was no way any of the faeries were going to kowtow to Serena’s crotchety old godmother. Technically, Vaeta could come and go as she pleased; it was only her sisters who’d chosen the path keeping them from their home.

Snaking tendrils burst out of the floor around Fawn’s feet, a gust of wind whipped at her clothes, and lightning slashed from the ceiling to flash-fry her beehive hairdo. Ashes drifted down around her face, which went from surprised to angry with beetled eyebrows and grimly twisted lips.

She looked a little bit like a burned-out match—if matches were chubby in their middles. At that point, Fawn could have made any one of a dozen choices designed to diffuse the situation. Instead, she fixed a sneer on her face and called Evian a nasty name.

It was on.

Do something to put a stop to it before things get out of hand.

Why? I asked the witch. They’re grownups, aren’t they? Let them handle their own problems for a change. Besides, I wanted to see what Fawn brought to the table. Color me curious.

I suppose, given her name, I should have known what form her magic would take. Fawn and fauna aren’t too far apart. She must have called every mouse in a block-wide radius because they teemed up through the floorboards. Not the wisest thing to do in a witch’s house.

Eyes bugging out of his head, Salem skidded into the room, his body quivering in ecstasy while he chose his first target. He geared up to pounce on the nearest of Fawn’s minions. Seeing she’d put the poor thing in mortal danger, Fawn clapped her hands and the mouse went poof. To his great disappointment, Salem came up empty-pawed.

Fawn looked a little concerned when Vaeta called the wind to her service and sent the rest of the mice skidding across the floor and out the open door. I sidestepped the onslaught nimbly, hopping into the kitchen with Kaine securely tucked into the crook of my elbow. His eyes followed the four-legged rodents with interest even though the pressure in the house made my ears pop and must have bothered his as well. He probably thought the whole fracas had been created for his entertainment; he was that kind of baby.

Vaeta’s wind blew the last of the ashes from Fawn’s head, leaving her virtually bald. A perfect canvas for Terra, who flicked her fingers and spread a layer of soil from which a tangle of moss erupted in the bad seventies perm version of a woodland hairstyle.

I had to press my lips under and bite them to keep from laughing.

Frankly, as faerie fights went, this one seemed almost tame. Even if Fawn had no idea, I could tell the godmothers were holding back. Sensible, really, from a warrior’s standpoint. Never showing your full strength to your enemies was just good battle sense.

If all Fawn had to offer was a slew of woodland animals, she was in way over her head. Terra’s affinity for earth gave her an unfair advantage since it extended to include both flora and fauna. Serena’s godmother was outclassed in every way, even if, logically, I could see the point she’d been trying to make.

Terra, and the two sisters who’d joined her to care for me when I was left a virtual orphan hadn’t been the most orthodox of parents, but I’d never been in any doubt they loved me, or Lexi anyway. Enough to put emotion ahead of logic and cast their judgment into doubt. What Fawn said did hold a kernel of truth. None of my godmothers had access to the Faelands save for Vaeta, who hadn’t been part of my adoption and the subsequent slide into blatant flouting of the rules.

They didn’t seem to mind being shunned, and I gathered that the banishment was only temporary, so I’d never given it much thought. What I also hadn’t given much thought to was how the godmothers of other witches might feel about Terra’s decision. She’d bucked tradition, shown herself to her charge, and then taken it one step further with her choice to raise a witch baby as her own. Such scandal.

I could see more clearly now that I wasn’t hampered by an excess of emotion. Well, except for when it came to Kaine. He’d wormed his way past my defenses, and that he’d done it so easily was something I should probably examine. But not at the moment.

Instead, leaving them to it, I bundled the baby back into his snowsuit and popped him into his stroller. As I hustled down the walk, I saw Mrs. Chatterly peeking through her curtains and gave her a jaunty wave and a big wink. The old biddy thought her picture window was a one-way mirror and no one could see her when she spied.

“Ready, little man?” Kaine’s eyes lit up, and he turned his head and looked right at the old busybody. Her face softened, and surprisingly, didn’t crack in half when she smiled. “Better get going before she decides to come out here.” We set off down the sidewalk at a brisk pace.

Every bump made the baby giggle, and every time he giggled I bit down on the urge to babble at him, but it wasn’t easy. He was just so darned cute. In that manner, we made a circuit around the neighborhood. Only once did we meet someone else out walking in the cold, and I managed to dodge to the other side of the street and avoid a Kaine love-fest incident.

A half hour had passed by the time I stood on the sidewalk in front of the house and assessed whether it was calm enough to go back inside. Concentrating on the flash of light and the soft, booming echoes, I didn’t hear footsteps coming up beside me until a voice startled.

“Who’s this cute little guy? Yours?” Kin stroked a finger down Kaine’s cheek and grinned when his touch elicited a sparkling laugh, but seemed otherwise untouched by the strength of the baby’s magic.

“My nephew. I’m babysitting while my, uh, roommates are testing out some new lighting effects.” Nothing like a little deja vu in the afternoon. The first time I’d met Kin I’d been standing in the same spot and staring at the windows of the house wondering when it would be safe to go inside. “They’re designers.” I used the same lame excuse as the last time, too. But he bought it.

“Looks cool. Do you have a card on you? I might be able to throw them some work.”

“Not at the moment.”

“Then bring it with you when you come to my show tonight.”

Had I agreed to that? In my head, the conversation from the restaurant replayed. No, I hadn’t given him a firm commitment. “I’m—” There wasn’t time to say I wasn’t going because he already had.