Heart of Stone (Rock Star Fairy Tales #1)

Chapter 19

C h apte r 19

In Vi no Veritas

M argot realized that Ash was trying to speak, his mouth making empty sounds, his breath tickling her hair. She leaned back, looking up into his face. “Ash?” s he asked.

His mouth moved, but again no sound came out. The heat around them flared, and she gasped. It wasn’t painful but quickly moving away from comforting warmth into uncomfortable hot. “Ash,” she said, “calm down.” When he only stared at her, she reached up to touch his face, closing his open mouth and ending his strangled attempts to speak. “Don’t burn down my bus,” she told him clearly. “Cool it.”

She could feel it, that brush of something against her skin—magic, she realized—as Ash slowly pulled it back, the heat retreating with it.

Ash seemed to return to himself, closing his eyes, and she felt the air temperature cool, suddenly aware of the sweat beading on her skin. “Good,” she soothed, a hand brushing his hair away from his face, a movement she had longed to do and wasn’t going to miss now that she was in his arms. No doubt other women had done the same, and Margot decided that at that moment, she didn’t care. She would take her moment as so many had before, and she would enjoy it.

When he had settled and her bus was a reasonable temperature again, she cocked her head. “You want to tell me what brought this on?”

He nodded, opened his mouth, but she shut it, gently pushing his chin up, silencing any words he managed to say. It was clear that something happened to him any time he tried to tell her whatever was going on right now. Margot didn’t know much about fae magic, but the way the lead singer couldn’t make sounds pass his throat suggested this was more than normal hesitation. Ash could sing like a god, his voice divine even when he wasn’t trying. Something choking his words could only be magical.

“But you can’t tell me, can you? It’s all connected: the Claiming, your family, the reason you’re here at all…” She frowned. “Is i t magic?”

He nodded again, eyes closed, then he sighed, his entire body shifting and moving her with him. He leaned his head down atop hers, resting his chin on her crown and drawing her close again. Margot stood there for a moment, recalling what she had learned in the last day about magic as she let him hold her, and then a thought popped into her mind.

When you need answers.

“You think getting really drunk would help?” she asked, her lips brushing his shirt as she spoke. “I mean, you said it was ma gic wine.”

Ash released her slowly, eyes wide as he looked at her. He found his voice again, apparently able to answer her on this point. “Are you sure, Margot? Perhaps these are answers you do not want to hear.”

“I think the time for what I want or don’t want has come and gone,” she told him. “I think it’s wha t I need.”

“What do you need, Go?” he asked, his voice husky as his eyes skipped down to her lips.

You .

The thought was instant, familiar, consuming, but she knew better than to say it. Not yet, she told herself. Not now.

Why the hell not? A part of her demanded answers while another just wanted him to keep looking at her like she was the only woman in the world for him, the only one he wanted to touch.

Because I know better , she reminded herself. She had seen the groupies who stalked him afterward, the ones who grew desperate in their need to bask in his attention one more time, the emptiness in their eyes as they slowly realized he would never look at them again. I will not become one of them.

She wondered how much of his sex appeal was due to his fae nature. She wondered if being with him was like some kind of fae drug, his magic somehow stealing a part of his partners’ soul, sparking their need for him. She had worked with the police on more than one stalking case, filing restraining orders as his groupies became too determined to see him again. Both Timothy and Nik had their share of stalkers, but none so frenzied as Ash’s former partners.

“I need more,” she said finally.

“More what?” he asked, still giving her that hun gry look.

She slowly lifted his arms from her body, stepping away from him. “More than you can give,” she said simply. “And I want to know why.” She moved quickly, not wanting to see his reaction to her words, ignoring the tingle of frustration that spilled from him.

Leaning down, she opened the small fridge and retrieved the bottle from the back. She stepped over to the back wall of her kitchen, and while she didn’t have any wine glasses—or any glasses at all, actually—she did have two coffee mugs, and she handed one to Ash, settling herself cross-legged on the floor with the bottle be fore her.

“Okay,” she said, studying the wax seal. “Is there a trick to this or what?”

Ash mimicked her position on the floor, then set the blue mug down next to the bottle. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “Last time, it got … intense.”

“I am,” she said, lifting the bottle to the light. “Are you?”

H e nodded.

“Good,” she said, then used the edge of her nail to break the seal, folding up the wax and opening the bottle. A glorious scent filled the air, sweet and seductive but without the bitter undertone she associated with wine. She poured a small amount into his mug, then the same into her own. She set the bottle on the floor, then raised her mug to his. As they clinked, she said, “To answers.”

Th e first few sips were divine, and soon, Margot forgot why she was slowing herself down, refilling both her and Ash’s mugs without thought.

“I guess,” she pondered after a long sip, “I just never had good win e before?”

“This isn’t ordinary wine,” Ash told her. “This is powerful stuff.” He took another sip, then cocked his head at her. “You’ve really never had a wine you enjoyed?”

Margot shook her head. “Not at all.” She sighed, recalling the long nights spent sitting at bars, surreptitiously watching Ash in the mirror, waiting for him to leave with his companions before she headed back to her bus, alone. Well, she didn’t always leave alone—but usually. “I tried a few and settled on rum and soda.”

Ash’s eyes widened in shock and surprise. “How boring, Go! Next time we’re at the bar, I’ll get you some drinks. We’ll find something you like.”

Margot held up her almost empty mug. “It won’t matter. Nothing will ever be as good as this, will it?”

Ash looked at her for a long time, weighing her words, and she refused to look away. “Nothing,” he said finally, the words coming out thick and purposeful, as though he had to pull them from his throat, “will ever be as good as you , Margot.”

“I’m not that good,” she replied, assuming he was referring to her “good girl” status when compared to the debauchery of the rest of the band.

“No,” he agreed. “You’re perfect. I hate that I can’t be with you.”

“Why can’t you be with me?” she asked, the question she kept asking escaping y et again.

Ash hesitated, took another sip that drained his mug, and set it on the ground. Margot refilled it, waiting for him to find h is words.

“I am under a spell,” he said, the words coming easily, and a huge grin split his face. He reached for the mug anew, taking another sip. He looked up to the roof of the bus and held the mug out as if in salute. “Thank you, Aun t Maddie.”

Margot smiled at the mention of her aunt. Though she wasn’t actually Ash or Timothy’s blood relative, Maddie had taken them in and accepted them both as her own—as she had done for h er niece.

“What kind of spell?” Margot prompted, not sure how long the magic would let him speak and eager to get as much information as s he could.

“A family oath,” he replied, eyes alight as the words came easily. “When they took Tobin, my father made me swear fealty to him alone, so it couldn’t happ en to me.”

“He Claimed you then?”

Ash shook his head. “No. Parents cannot Claim their children. There’s loyalty there, of course, but Claiming is someth ing else.”

“And oaths? How do they play in to this?”

Ash sighed, clearly organizing his thoughts. “Claiming is a life-long commitment, a promise to obey an individual and actively promote their agenda in all things. It’s like getting your dream job and doing everything you can to keep it, to keep your boss or whatever powers that be, happy with y our work.”

“That doesn’t sound awful,” Margot said. She thought of the way Tobin spoke of his Lord, distantly respectful. But Tobin was definitely vocal about his dislike of Claiming in general. Margot wondered how much freedom was allowed within the bond.

“You can’t ever break the connection,” Ash told her. “And you won’t want to. That’s what makes it so awful. You lose your free will. You forget you ever wanted anythi ng else.”

Margot frowned. “You say that like you’ve seen it happen,” she observed . “Tobin?”

He nodded. “Before he was taken, Tobin and I were close. We both swore we’d find a way to avoid the Claiming, often joking we’d just Claim each other if that meant nothing would change. It’s illegal, of course, to create a household of two, but we were already loyal to one another.” He took a deep breath, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “But after he was Claimed by Rebinus... he was d ifferent.”

“It made him loyal to Rebinus?”

“Yes, but that wasn’t what made it terrible. He didn’t mind that he was Claimed by Rebinus. The brother I knew would have fou ght back.”

Margot nodded, knowing that much was true. Tobin didn’t seem to mind his Claim that much. It was her getting Claimed that he disliked—if it wasn’t by Ash. She peered at the lead singer in her bus. “So you saw him again after he w as taken?”

Ash nodded. “He may tell you he was kidnapped or taken, words implying violence or even legal recourse in this world, but in our world, he had been fairly captured. Our father had been careless and left him vulnerable—a mistake he would not make again as you can see. But there was a ceremony, and I was permitted to attend. The brother I saw before the Claiming and after were not the sam e person.”

“I’m sorry,” Margot whispered, trying not to think of how much her mother had changed in those last months when the sickness really got its claws in her, how the mom she had known faded into a memory. “That must have been terrible.”

“I don’t want your pity, Go,” he insisted. “It is Tobin who deserves compassion for what he suffered.”

“I’m still confused,” Margot said, focusing on the oath instead. “How does this oath protect you and prevent you from Claiming someone?” Margot took another sip, refilling their mugs again. She knew she ought to slow down, but the flood of information was too tantalizing. She had longed for Ash to give her straight answers since the day they met. Sure, he would tease her and offer comfort in extremity, but he had never been so open, so willing to share himself with her.

“A family oath ensures that my loyalty remains with my father. It limits my focus, meaning…” His voice trailed off as he gave her a l ong look.

“Meaning you can’t be devoted to anyone else,” she finished for him. “Does that mean you can’t Claim anyone or you shouldn’t Clai m anyone?”

He tilted his head. “Being sworn to my father—and hidden among the humans—makes it very unlikely that another fae would try to Claim me—if I even can be Claimed.” He looked surprised as the last few words came out, then glanced at the mug in his hand and put it carefully on th e ground.

“Putting a pin in that possibility,” Margot said, mirroring him and putting her own mug down. She let him shift the focus, address the rest of what he had said. “Why is it unlikely another would try? I get the impression your father is powerful—and you. Why wouldn’t someone try to get you?”

“My father is quite powerful in our world. That’s why Tobin was taken. He certainly has abilities that Rebinus has found useful. But anyone who tried to Claim me would earn my father’s anger, first, but also, if they weren’t much stronger than I am, they wouldn’t be able to countermand the oath.”

“So other fae must do this oath thing, then, right?” Margot pried, trying to un derstand.

“Only the truly powerful among us. It wouldn’t matter for a lesser fae. It may bind them in some ways, but the Lord would only overcome it in the C laiming.”

“A powerful fae … like you,” she repeated. “Ash, what ca n you do?”

“I can make you smile,” he said quickly, and Margot felt her cheeks warm as she returned his gr in. “See?”

“I’m being serious,” she said, slapping at his arm. Her voice sounded a bit off to her ears, a tiny bit like a radio warbling in and out or range. She knew there were other questions she should be asking, but she stared at him instead. “Can you fly?”

H e nodded.

“But you don’t ha ve wings.”

“Not like this, I don’t,” he said, moving his arms and shoulders as he looked down at his body. At the words, he slapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide as he stared at her. Margot wasn’t going to let him go, not when he was finally so vulnerable be fore her.

“How do you fly, Ash?”

His hands moved a tiny bit, his mouth visible between his splayed fingers. The words kept spilling out. “When I transform, I can fly. But in truth I don’t need to. I can simply will myself othe r places.”

Margot decided to ignore the idea of willing herself from one spot to another for the moment and sat up on her knees, leaning closer to him, focusing on the other thing he had said. “Transform into w hat, Ash?”