Heart of Stone (Rock Star Fairy Tales #1)

Chapter 26

C h apte r 26

Roadside Encounters

Late Afternoon, Friday, Febr uary 20 th in Margot’s Bus in North east Armav

B y the time Margot felt sturdy on her feet again, the afternoon light was waning. They had inspected the bus, making sure it hadn’t sustained serious damage from the storm, but aside from a few dents in the roof—nothing new there—the bus was ready to drive again. Margot had been even more disturbed by the level of devastation surrounding them: downed trees, swaths of asphalt torn away, replaced by rivulets of dark sand, the volcanic rock sliding down the mountain.

“I feel like I should donate to the road repair crew,” Margot said, settling into the driver’s seat again. “This will cost a fortune to fix. I’m shocked there’s even a road left to drive on.”

Ash nodded but gave her a reassuring look. “That’s what taxes are for, Margot. Storms affect roadways all the time. This isn’t a n ew thing.”

“No, but I literally caused it.” She started the bus and checked her mirrors. Even though she was the only one who ever drove her bus, she always checked her mirrors every time she sat down in the driver’s seat, a habit learned from her mother who drilled road safety into her as they traveled the other continent. “Isn’t one of the reasons for the southern resistance abou t taxes?”

“Yeah, taxes on imports from Genc and even Arillo keep increasing, even though they mostly come via the port in Tunica. The rebels say someone in the southern government is pocketing all the extra,” he explained, settling into his seat as Margot carefully pulled onto the road. Even though it wasn’t yet dark, she turned on her headlights, staying well below the limit as she drove around scattere d debris.

“You think we’ll have any trouble at the border?” she asked. They normally crossed between provinces in Ardon without much more than showing ID cards, but Margot didn’t know if the unrest had changed the normal customs.

“I doubt it,” Ash said. “Tim and Nik crossed easily enough. They’re already at the venue. There’s a big pre-show party tonight at the Upto wn Olive.”

Margot gave him a quick side glance. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Why are yo u sorry?”

“Because you should be with them. Now all my crap is fucking up the tour.” She frowned, squinting through the windshield as she followed a curve and headed sharply downhill. They seemed to be reaching the edge of the storm field. Margot was relieved—it had only covered a few miles, with her bus at th e center.

“It’s fine, Go. I don’t love those partie s anyway.”

She scoffed, flipping on her bright lights since there was no one else on the road. She finished the curve to the right and turned left, continuing downhill. “Liar,” she declared. “You love those things.” She started to add her next thought—that Ash met most of his women at the parties both before and after their shows—but stopped speaking, squinting again as something appeared in the middle of the road ahead. “Is that—is that a person?” she asked, slow ing down.

“Margot,” Ash’s voice was deadly quiet, “do n’t stop.”

“What?” she asked, foot lifting from the brake but not completely, the bus still slowing as they drew near to the figure. It was tall, and wearing some kind of dark cloak, definitely not the kind of clothing to wear while standing in the middle of the road in the deepening gloom. The fading light behind it seemed to glow, the stranger soaking it up in a spot of darkness. “But we’re in the middle of nowhere. We can’t just leave someone stranded—”

“Margot,” he insisted, “don’t stop . Hit it.”

“What?!” she shrieked, slamming on the brake as she turned to gawk at him. “I am not running someone over!” she declared, offended he would suggest such a thing. “Not in my bus!” she added, the afterthought the least of her reasons, but still in the list.

The bus came to a stop about fifty feet away from th e figure.

“It’s not a someone,” Ash said. “Not anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded.

“Look at it,” Ash said. “Centaur’s Balls, Go—That is not a person!”

Margot glanced at it again, seeing the dark cloak that had begun to flap in the non-existent wind. A cold feeling crept up her arm. “Is it a fae?” she whispered, not sure why she suddenly wanted to hide.

“It was, but not anymore. It’s a faeng.” Ash’s voice was low and he moved slowly, unbuckling his s eat belt.

“What the hell does that mean?” Margot asked, fear slicing through her chest in a cold arc.

“It means you stay here,” he ordered, reaching for the door handle. She grabbed his hand. The bus lurched forward as her foot left the brake pedal, and she whirled, jamming it into park. The creature, which had been taking a slow step toward them, h esitated.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked. “Seriously, have you never seen a horror movie? Do not go o ut there!”

“We don’t want it in here,” he said reasonably. “Better to fight it out there. I don’t want to wreck your bus.”

“Why are you fighting it? What is happening right now?” she demanded, anger replacing her fear.

“Because otherwise it will try to Claim you, and I don’t think you want that.” He lifted her hand to his mouth, gave it a quick kiss, and opened the door. At her shocked expression, he repeated, “S tay here.”

Feeling like an idiot, Margot watched him get out of the bus and shut the door. He strode confidently down the road in front of the creature like a dark avenging comic book hero. She had a heated debate where her hand moved to open the door and follow him and froze on the doo r handle.

“You have no business here, faeng,” Ash said to the creature. In the eerie quiet of the last light of day, she could hear him easily through th e window.

“Give us the girl,” the creature hissed, its voice a mix of whisper a nd gravel.

“She is not for you,” Ash insisted. “You kno w better.”

“She is Unclaimed,” the creature declared. “We will have her.” Margot scanned the road, wondering why the creature would use the plural. Maybe it was like the royal we , she thought, but glimpsed movement in her mirror, a darker splotch approaching the bus from behind. She didn’t hesitate, hopping out of her seat and clambering into the back of the bus, crouching next to the s ide door.

“She is spoken for,” Ash said.

The creature made a sound that Margot recognized eventually as a laugh.

“And who are you, little one, to speak for one such as she?” the faeng asked. The faded light outside the window in the back rear window darkened, and Margot flung the door open, slamming it into the other creature who was creeping alongside the bus. There was a screech, and then the door was slammed shut, nearly hitting her in the process, the force making the entire bus rock dangerously on its wheels. Margot flailed to catch her balance and settled on the balls of her feet, waiting for the door to swing open and the other creature to come for her.

“She is ours!” the first creature shrieked, and she caught movement through the windshield. She didn’t look, focusing on her own problems. A quick survey of her surroundings reminded her of the metal baseball bat she kept in the corner, a last ditch safety net if someone should get rowdy in the parking lot. Margot snatched it, teeing up for a swing when the door opened. She didn’t know what a faeng was, but she imagined it wouldn’t enjoy a bat to the face. She heard the scraping of nails— Oh fuck, are those claws? —on the outside of the door and metal thunking as it fumbled with the handle. She waited, adjusting her grip on the bat, accounting for the small space, recalling those days with the boys when they played the occasional baseball game—except back then it had been Benjamin who had sidled close to her, showing her how to hold the bat to have the stronge st swing.

Okay , she thought, I’m ready to hit one out of the park.