Heart of Stone (Rock Star Fairy Tales #1)

Chapter 23

C h apte r 23

F amily Ties

Morning, Friday, Febr uary 20 th in Margot’s Bus in Kerva Point Park in Ke rva, Armav

A sh sighed, arms moving awkwardly in the small space. “I hoped you wouldn’t ask,” he admitted, and she heard the last of the wine in his voice.

“But that’s what started all of this. Tonight.” She grinned. “Last night, I mean.” He shifted beneath her, and she moved with him like a ship on familiar seas. She didn’t look away from his face, needing to hear a ll of it.

I can take it , she assured herself. I’ve taken in a lot of changes without breaking—even the possible loss of my free will. This will be one more detail to add to the pile. She took a deep breath, relishing the feel of his body beneath her, finally hers to explore as she wanted. “Tell me.”

His hand slid up her back to trace the curve of her head. “It’s a family mark,” he said bluntly. “For Lord Tennere.” He glanced down at her small kitchen. “You want coffee? I want coffee.” He moved out from beneath her, sliding out of bed and hopping down to the floor. She remained where she was, enjoying the sight of his bare bottom as he walked over to her small kettle and began filling it from the water jug beneath the sink.

He ducked into her bathroom for a minute, and Margot climbed out of bed with less grace than she usually managed, abused muscles protesting as she moved. She grabbed a long t-shirt from the small bin at the base of her tiny closet, sliding it over her head and trying to subdue her love-tangled hair. There was a soft thump from the bathroom followed by a low curse, and she smiled. Her bathroom was small, even for someone her size—but it was hers and it worked just fine. She had enough room to stand in front of the toilet and enjoy th e shower.

As long as my wings never pop out when I’m in there, she thought. That could get awkward . She yawned, and when the door opened, she and Ash exchanged places, him leaning down to kiss the top of her head as she passed, the gesture familiar and exciting in ways Margot knew better than to get used to.

As she closed the bathroom door, she reminded herself of all the reasons she had never truly pursued Ashton Stonewall. He was a manwhore, for one, sleeping with different women, and some men, in every city. He was a rock star. He may have said he loved her— He loves me!— but it didn’t really matter. She was still not good enough for him. Not enough for him. She could hear him in her kitchen, opening the little cupboard to set up the coffee in the pour-over carafe. Of course he knew where everything was—he’d helped her set up this place years ago. Before he was the lead singer of Stone Dragons. Back when he was just Ash and everything she wanted in life.

That seems like a lot, she told herself. Is he really everything you want in life?

I don’t know. Yes . And no.

She shook her head, running a brush through her hair and quickly brushing her teeth before stepping back into the livi ng space.

Ash had two mugs ready for the brewing coffee, the liquid slowly sieving through the cloth filter. He had put on his pants, and she missed the familiarity of his naked body. “Thanks,” she said, nodding at the coffee, very aware that she wasn’t wearing pants and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. As if sensing her mood, Ash gently tugged her close, wrapping her in his arms as he leaned against the edge of the sink.

“I’m not hungover,” she commented, noting the relaxed and content feel of her body in his arms.

“Me either,” As h agreed.

“I thought you got sloppy drunk the last time you drank Maddie’s wine?” she prompted.

“I did. But I was very young then. Maybe it’s just not meant for t eenagers.”

Margot recalled seeing them stumble back into the bar, Ash throwing up on his friends. “Did you tell Nik?” she asked. “Did the wine let you tell him t he truth?”

He nodded. “But Nik was already … different. He needed to know.”

She sighed. “And I didn’t.” Before he could say anything, she hugged him tighter. “It’s fine. I get it.” They said nothing for a moment, his hands sliding lower until they moved beneath the shirt to caress her back, eventually hitting the spot where her new mark was.

“It wasn’t there before,” she said, recalling their conversation. She had a bad feeling about where this was going, but like everything that had happened since wings first popped out of her back, she couldn’t stop it. She added, “It’s not like I always had a b irthmark.”

“I know,” he said. “I’ve seen you in a bathing suit, Margot.” His hand slid over the space between her shoulder blades where the mark was—the same place where her wings sprouted when she called them. She shivered, trying not to think of her skeleton, the way her body shifted with magic, defying the laws of physics and gravity and biology.

“I didn’t think you were looking,” she told him.

“I am always looking,” he declared, then he leaned down to kiss her. A few long breathless moments later, they finished dressing their coffee—sugar for her, a splash of milk for him—and moved to sit down. She sat in her normal swivel chair, and Ash sat on the floor before her, his mug on the ground beside his knee.

“Why is the mark here now?” she asked, continuing the conv ersation.

“It appeared when you Manifested,” he explained, taking a sip of his coffee. He looked a little embarrassed, and added, “So everyone knew where you should go … until…”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, reaching for her own mug. “We know that’s not happening. I’m not running to some fae to hide. I’m staying right here.” She took another sip. “Does it help—going to a family? Does it prevent Claiming?”

Ash shrugged. “Depending on the family, perhaps, but it’s not a long-term solution. Just long enough to get one’s affairs in order, say any goodbyes…”

“Tobin and Timothy were Claimed as children. Is that common? Or does it happen later in life like me? Can a person have a normal life and have to leave it behind when they Manifest?” The idea was shocking that a society could function that way.

“Young Claimings are more common,” Ash explained, sipping his coffee, “or arranged Claimings. But yes, sometimes people don’t Manifest until later, after they have some life est ablished.”

“Do some fae just not Manifes t at all?”

He nodded. “Yes. Not everyone is officially Claimed but those who aren’t generally don’t have much power in our world. They usually serve a Lord anyway, though without t he magic.”

“Such a weird concept,” Margot mused. “Everyone having a specific place.” She thought of her own life, mostly wandering with her mother, seeing new places but never calling one home—besides the bus.

The caffeine and conversation cleared some of the morning-after haze from her brain, and Margot moved slowly side to side in the chair, her thinking movement. She spied the wine bottle, mostly empty, abandoned on her desk, and grabbed it. She handed i t to Ash.

“Do we keep it?” she asked as he shook the bottle to reveal the few remaining inches at th e bottom.

“Can’t hurt,” he said, rolling up a cloth napkin as a makeshift stopper before he put it back in her fridge. Margot frowned, legs pushing her this way and that as she tried to recall what he had told her the nigh t before.

“Tennere,” she repeated, then held out her thumb, mimicking his motion. “He was the odd man out, the distant one. The not-threate ning one.”

“Lord Tennere is plenty threatening,” Ash warned. “But he poses no threat to you.” He chuckled. “Not many can claim that honor—to be safe from Tennere.”

“Not you?” s he asked.

“Meh,” he said. “I’m definitely not topping his list of enemies—my family, I mean. But we’re not allies either. Tennere and my father have sparred ofte n enough.”

“So my mother and Maddie—they were part of the Tenner e family?”

“No. Your mother was an Atherton.”

Margot frowned, recalling the names. She looked at the ceiling, as if they were written there, lifting a finger for each. “Your father, Lord Novus?” At his nod she continued, “Alick and Kristoff, the troublemakers of the moment. Tennere, the odd man out.” She pursed her lips. “Then the bad one, Renulus.” A pause, then she tried again, “Rebulus.”

“Rebinus,” he corrected.

“Yeah, that one,” she agreed, pleased that her magic wine-addled brain had remembered most of it. I suppose when people want to kidnap you and claim you, you pay attention to the details . She frowned. “But you didn’t mention a Lord Atherton?” She paused, realization sinking in as she contemplated the logistics. “Duh,” she said. “Of course there would be more families—all of them nestled somewhere in the hierarchy below those five you mentioned, right? Five CEOs with everyone working for them somewhere along the line.” She took in a deep breath, preparing for another hit of bad news. “So where are the A thertons?”

Ash moved his hand from side to side. “Middle. Last I knew, they served under Lord Kristoff.”

“Uh oh, he’s one of the bad ones.” She narrowed her eyes. “So why am I marked for Tennere if my mom was one of Kristoff’s? Did something shift while you’ve b een gone?”

“No.” When she didn’t seem to understand, Ash looked at her carefully. He put his mug down, reaching out to cradle her face with both hands. “Your father, Margot,” Ash said, his eyes sad. “Lord Tennere is your father.”