Solstice (Midsummer #3)

29. Lex

29

Lex

I t was a sham marriage.

Everyone knew it.

I knew it. Ivy knew it.

Four years of faking it, and here we were, staring down a day that would most definitely live in infamy, but for all the wrong reasons. The public wanted the glitz and the glam. They wanted the star-studded event with the free booze and the photo ops. That wasn’t us anymore. That hadn’t been us for a long time. Not since Ireland. Not since Samhain and Poppy and the clusterfuck in the woods.

We’d be lucky to make it out alive. We’d be lucky if this event didn’t end in bloodshed.

The sun had faded behind dark, smoky tendrils, the once brilliant Saturday morning now turned to shades of gray.

We were so fucked.

“Lex.” Ivy’s eyes implored me to listen. “We can’t wait any longer. Siobhan isn’t coming. We need to get everyone out of here.”

I took a deep breath, reminding myself of the great plan. This had to happen. He had to come here, and we had to face him.

Except, that was when I thought we had Poppy on our side. I’d been texting her for hours with no response. I’d tried calling her after she didn’t make her scheduled check-in, and when it told me the number had been disconnected, I suspected we might be screwed.

The sky grew darker, and the guests below stood, grabbing onto their dresses and sweaters as they rushed inside. The winds blew harder, and my heart beat faster as I racked my fucking imagination for a game plan. The black tendrils swirled outside the window, and we backed away, Ivy gripping my hand tighter as it seeped in through the cracks like smoke.

“Fuck!” Kit startled and jumped away. “Guys, make up your mind.”

I had planned for this. I had suspected Siobhan and her lovers wouldn’t make it back in time, and now that we were dealing with that reality, I had to fall back on plan C—the one where we ran and he chased.

“We’re getting out of here.” I grabbed Ivy’s hand to lead her back over to the door.

“We’re leaving?” Ivy’s eyes bulged. “What about all these people?”

“If we leave, he’ll come after us.” I ushered everyone over to the door.

“To where?” Jon ran a hand over the back of his head. “Where are we supposed to hide?”

“The closest place that’s warded is our house. That was the plan when Siobhan and Finn were here.”

“That’s where the queen is,” Ivy said. “We’ll lead him right to her.”

“Then we go to Kit’s or Jon’s,” I said. “Anywhere. We just need to go.”

Ivy took a deep breath. “Yeah. Okay.”

“What?” Jon’s eyes narrowed. “He’ll catch us in a second and crush us in two.”

“We don’t have another choice.” Ivy gave her brother a reassuring nod.

I decided not to read too much into her quick agreement.

“C’mon,” she said, tugging me over to the door. “I can sense him getting closer.”

“Where’s Henry and Abigail?” Kit asked.

“I don’t know!” Ivy shook her head. We walked out into the hallway just as they appeared at the top of the stairs.

“There you are!” Abigail said.

“The minister thinks the weather is about to take a turn.” Henry looked between us. “We should get started soon.”

“Yeah, it’s not the weather.” Ivy gave Abigail a knowing look, and she grabbed Henry, hauling him along with us as we headed toward the back stairs.

“What’s happening?” Henry narrowed his ice-blue eyes on our panicked state.

“There’s no time to explain,” Abigail said. “You have to trust us and do what I say.”

“Isn’t that my whole life?” Henry rolled his eyes but trotted dutifully along. We ducked behind the door and took the steps two at a time. Ivy struggled in her enormous, obnoxious dress, her arms one giant poof of sparkling fabric as she walked. I held up the back of it, and goddamn it, if this was just the train, what did the rest of the thing weigh?

The king used his black mist to peck at the top of the floor-to-ceiling windows like a million tiny birds. It surged upward, a dark blanket consuming everything it touched. Chirp. Chirp. Peck. Chirp. Peck. The sounds unnerved me, tickling my molars like nails on a chalkboard.

Once we were on the lowest level, Ivy pulled her phone out of her purse to call Carter one last time. On the second ring, he finally answered. She put it on speaker.

“Carter, he’s here,” Ivy said, cutting him off.

“Fuck.” He sounded restless and exhausted. “Where are you?”

“We’re still in Mount Vernon,” Ivy said.

I took the spot in front of her, grabbing her hand while I led her through the hallways we’d used to run through as children. “We’re leading him away. We have one of his primary targets.”

Fury burned through me as we ran, at fucking Evelyn for being such a goddamn pain in the ass, at the king for being such a show-off, and at Siobhan for not coming through for us. I thought fairies were supposed to be honor bound by their oaths or some shit. Where was that now?

Fuck her, fuck Donnelly, and fuck Finn. All that planning, all that scheming, all for nothing.

“Is he still in London?” I asked, my hand on her waist to halt her from turning around the corner. I peeked first, checking both directions before guiding her and her siblings into the basement hallway. The world grew blacker and that dreadful sinking feeling in my stomach intensified, putting even more pressure on my lungs as we walked. The atmosphere reeked of magic, seeping in through the cracks in the cinderblock walls like mist. Unlike the queen’s energy, which radiated with vibrance and life, this echoed the pain of hollowness. This scratched at my insides like the worst depression in the world, like absolute torture that would never end.

“Yeah,” Carter said. “But I can be in DC soon. I’ll call Miri.”

I held back a growl as the thought of Miri broke my heart. “Have you talked to her?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s not good.”

Not good? What could be so complicated she couldn’t share it with us? Whatever. Not the time to discuss it. We needed to get to safety first.

“Be careful,” Ivy told him.

“Of course, Weeds,” Carter said. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

The muffled conversation on the other end of the phone made me pause. It sounded like Carter said, “Lizzie?”

Lizzie? What the hell was his sister doing at his hotel?

“Poppy? What are you doing?”

“Poppy?” That got my attention. “Did he say Poppy?”

Ivy froze, and her siblings looked at each other while Poppy and Carter argued. “Is the king making you do this?”

“No, it’s not the king,” Poppy said. “I just thought you should say goodbye.”

The fear and trepidation rose in me, and I understood what was happening. Poppy had Lizzie. Was this what the king had asked of her? Why hadn’t she contacted me? Or did she realize we had the queen and retaliated?

“Carter!” I shouted, trying to get his attention, trying to tell him to get Lizzie and get out of there.

But it was no use because Carter shouted, “Poppy, no. Wait. Poppy. Stop!”

And then the line went silent.

“Carter!” Ivy tried to call him again, but it went to voicemail. “Shit!”

Her red-rimmed eyes met mine, and I ran my hands through my hair. I had told Poppy not to make any drastic decisions without cluing me in. Something was wrong. Was she stealing family members? Was this part of his plan?

“C’mon. We have to go.” Ivy’s voice sounded as rough and devastated as I felt.

“This way.” Jon opened the door that led to the side of the house, and we crossed the lawn to the litany of vehicles near the garage. My heart pounded as I looked at the sky. Smoke spiraled around us, frightening and beautiful, making it infinitely more difficult to see.

Ivy lagged behind me, her dress weighing her down even after Kit and Jon grabbed a piece of the monstrosity so we could go faster. One of our wedding guests stood a hundred yards in the distance, slack-jawed and staring at the sky. From this distance, it was difficult to make out, but I could swear his eyes were pitch black. I stopped, taking a moment to look. Other people stood around in the same position, wearing similar expressions of dumbstruck wonder.

That was the least of my worries.

“C’mon, X!” I stood by the back door of the nearest Range Rover while Ivy ran faster. Kit climbed in first, followed by Abigail, Jon, and Henry. Ivy tried to get in the passenger seat, but the train of her dress was too big for her to squeeze through the door.

“Get it off me,” Ivy said, scrambling for the zipper on her back, but she was tied in this thing tighter than anything I’d ever roped her up with.

“We don’t have time for this,” Kit said.

I grabbed the delicate lace holding her in with both hands and gave it a sharp tug, ripping the seams down the middle and peeling it from the front of her body. Wearing only her petticoats and her bra, she hopped into the seat and slammed the door closed behind her. I circled the hood, watching as the king’s madness descended on us.

Fuck. No matter if Siobhan had shown up with the Fianna, we still would have been greatly outmatched. I gazed at the spectacle. What a fucking drama queen to show up like this. To hypnotize my entire family. To chase us down like dogs. It indicated a level of narcissism and righteousness I knew all too well. Perhaps Siobhan had been right. Perhaps there had been a reason the four of us were chosen.

I got in the driver’s seat, started the engine, and put it into drive, leaving our family and Ivy’s pretentious three-million-dollar dress behind. I turned right at the end of the driveway, and the clouds followed us, swirling through the atmosphere on either side of the SUV. It reminded me of the night we’d gone to see Siobhan.

Except this time, when the vehicle pulled to a stop, it wasn’t henchmen that stood in our way.

No.

It was him.