Heart of Stone (Rock Star Fairy Tales #1)

Chapter 9

C h apte r 9

Fae Powers

N ik cocked his head, leaning forward like he always did when he shared gossip. “Okay, so you know a little bit about fae powers, right? Useful stuff, most of the time: glamours, mind wipes, elemental control, but Ash? He does none of it. None. Dude lives like a human.”

“He has a harem,” Margot observed dryly. “That’s fae pow er stuff.”

Nik laughed. “Go, that’s rock star stuff.” He gestured at himself with a supremely arrogant smirk. “No fae glamour here, and I get plenty of action just being nearby.” He shook his head. “But Ash—and Timothy too—they never do anything remotely supernatural. I’m starting to think that they don’t want anyone to notice them that way. Being rock stars is one thing, but they are the most rock star-ish rock stars I’ve ever seen. Like, they’re every stereotype you can imagine, like they’re trying to fil l a role.”

“Why?” she asked, intrigued. She thought about Ash’s behavior: the groupies, the parties, the occasional drugs, though she knew the boys rarely went there. The elusive lead singer smolder could be a cover for something bigger. “What do y ou think?”

“I said it earlier, though joking.” He gave her a hard look. “I think they’re hiding from someone.”

Margot nodded, recalling snippets of the conversation between Tobin and Ash, hints that Ash and Timothy were recognized as something more than members of Stone Drago ns. “Who?”

Nik shrugged. “No idea. But with you Manifesting, it’s sure to bring attention this way—attention neither of the g uys want.”

Margot frowned. “Wait. So if they never do anything … supernatural … as you put it, how did you know they were fae?”

Nik shook his head. “Long story, Go. Too long for tonight, but I do promise that I will tell you all of it. Soon. But not now. This is enough to wor ry about.”

“I always worry about you, Nik,” she told him. “This is not hing new.”

“No need, Go,” he assured her with a wink. “I have you to look after me.”

She smiled, a soft laugh escaping her, and sniffed a final time, finding her center again. “Thanks, Nik. You always know what to say, even if it isn’t anything I don’t alre ady know.”

“Glad I can help.” He pursed his lips. “So, am I staying here tonight, or do you want to be alone?” It was rare, but sometimes Nik would spend the night in her bus, on the floor with her swivel chair as a pillow or sprawled in the passenger seat with a pillow between him and the door.

Margot shook her head. “You’re all parked nearby. I’ll be fine.” She took a deep breath, then finished her tea. Giving Nik a challenging look, she tossed it toward the can, the bottle bouncing off the edge and rolling on the floor along the bottom of the cabinet. “Damn,” she sighed. “Guess sprouting wings didn’t hel p my aim.”

“Your aim is fine, Go,” Nik assured her. “It’s been a wild night. Take some time to think.” He paused, then added, “You need to be ready for what co mes next.”

“The Claiming bullshit?” she asked. “That’s not happening. I will drive this bus to the other side of the continent if I have to.”

“Not that,” he said quickly, though she couldn’t ignore the shadow crossing his face. “Your abilities. They will Manif est soon.”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “That part.” She leaned back, running a hand through her long hair, gathering it up and tossing it over her shoulder so it hung down her back. “You really think New Guy would help me?”

“He seemed pretty into you. And no doubt he felt that Connection too.” He frowned. “Why? You think he’s gonna disappea r on you?”

Margot recalled Tobin’s face when he had seen her power: his lust, his excitement, his eagerness. “No,” she admitted, “but I would be surprised if Ash and Timothy let him near me. There was definitely some tensi on there.”

Nik’s frown deepened, but he sighed, standing up and offering her a hand. “Ash wants what is best for you,” he said, “and if that’s the New Guy—”

“Tobin,” Margot said, not wanting to call him New Guy lest the nickn ame stick.

“Tobin,” Nik repeated. “If he’s the one who Awakened you, then they have to let him help. I know enough about fae laws to know that they cannot actually deny him access to you, nor you to him. Not until you’re officially Claimed, that is. Until then, he’s your … teacher.”

“Some teacher,” Margot snorted and stood, a flash of Tobin’s mouth on hers making her shiver and the hair stand up on her arms.

Nik gave her a knowing look, eyebrow raised. “Hot for teacher, are we?” he teased.

“Shut up,” she mumbled, then turned him around to face the door. “Good night, Niklaus.”

“Good night, Baby Go,” he said, opening the door. “I should probably stop calling you that, huh? Are you Lady Ma rgot now?”

“Good night!” she said, pushing him between the shoulde r blades.

“As you wish, my Lady!” he yelled, hopping down. He grinned at her before shutting the door, and Margot smiled as she pushed the lock button. She grabbed the empty bottle on the floor and tucked it into the garbage can, then stood in the center of her bus, willing herself to do the n ext part.

“Just do it!” she ordered herself. “Time to see these wings.” A long mirror mounted on the bathroom door showed her reflection. She had changed into soft pajama pants and a tank top after returning home, then spent the shower thinking about her wings, but thankfully, they didn’t pop out while she was in the small space. Alone, she tugged the tank top over her head, tugged her hair out of the way, and angled her body so she could see her bare back in the mirror. At first, nothing visible showed, but then she noticed a patch of lighter skin between her shoulder blades. Grabbing her phone, she arched and clicked pictures until she found the right angle. Bringing the phone closer to her face, she tried to find the different skin, but her camera didn’t seem to notice any di fference.

Maybe it’s a ma gic mark?

Margot twisted around and around, eventually identifying a small, stylized set of slightly raised soft pink lines across her skin. The mark was small, only a few inches across, but Margot knew it had not been there before. She pushed her hair behind her shoulders, seeing that the end of her hair rested just above the new mark.

“Damn,” she whispered. She had hoped her hair might hide it if she ever lost her shirt. She shook her head, dark hair moving around like snakes. “Lose your shirt?” she asked her reflection over her shoulder. “What are you thinking?” Frowning, she nodded, hoping the pain she recalled that first time had more to do with her wings tearing through her dress than actual pain each time she called them. “Okay, then. Ju st do it.”

Closing her eyes, she thought about her wings. Please come out, she thought. A flash of light against her eyelids, images painting the inside in a riot of color, and she could feel them. Opening her eyes, she studied her back.

The wings were big, but not huge, the width just beyond her elbows with her arms held out at shoulder height. In the small space, she had one hand against her bed and the other against the top of the door, and her wings fit easily in the space between. They were longer than they were wide, the tops of each wing peeking a few inches above her shoulders and ending just below the back of her knees. The color was glorious, a wash of browns and blues, and Margot stared at herself for a long time, moving this way and that, getting a sense of how she could make the wings move too. The feeling was odd, but also completely natural, like making a fist or wiggling her toes. Her body simply knew how to m ove them.

“Can I … fly?” she whispered, then moved the wings in the way that made sense. Her feet left the floor of the bus, and she rose a few inches in the air. Margot lifted her arms up, stopping her flight before she crashed into the roof, and her feet landed on the polished wooden floor with a thump. “Oh crap,” she cursed, then closed her eyes, willing the wings away. That flash of light, and she was herself again, standing topless in the middle of her home.

Too much, she decided. Time for bed.

Margot moved to hop up to her bed by stepping on her desk but realized she didn’t need to. Her body felt so light she simply rose into the air. She rolled into the bunk the way she always did, pretending to ignore the ease with which she had moved—the same lightness she had felt when Tobin had asked her how she was feeling right after she Ma nifested.

Right before he kissed her in a way that made her toes curl i n memory.

Nope. Stop that, she told herself. It’s been a day. Go to sleep. You can think about it again tomorrow.

Turning on her music and closing her eyes, Margot settled in bed. She knew she would dream of Tobin’s hands on her body and his voice in her ear, saying, Tell me what you want .