Page 7 of Milk and Honey

“So you’re trying to tell me that you got stuck here and just…what, made the best of things with Mary? For years? Bullshit, Vic. You love that woman to the ends of the earth, we can all see that. I don’t know what this nonsense you two are trying to pull is, but it’s not funny,” I crossed my arms and huffed, giving Elim a baleful glance as Vic fondly twisted his wedding ring around his finger.

“And you! Don’t look so smug. I’m not going to mar-” My tongue adhered to the roof of my mouth mid-sentence and I shoved my fingers between my lips to unstick it, panicking I was going to suffocate. Elim leaned over sharply and cupped my cheek as he kissed me, instantly remedying the problem and, annoyingly, turning me on again.

“My intended, I’d strongly suggest you not make any more declarations of that sort. The bond is strong and it might hurt you as it protects itself. Fae bargains are not things to be undone, particularly where humans are involved, and words have power.” He at least had the grace to look apologetic as he chastised me, but I was ticked.

Vic looked even more tired than he had earlier. “Lord Shadowcourt, perhaps if we-”

Elim slipped his hand into mine, interlacing our fingers with a gentle, cautious smile, and my annoyance levels dipped even further. Charming bastard. He gave my hand a squeeze before releasing it, turning his attention back to my manager, who had gotten a hell of a lot more interesting in the last hour. “Call me Elim, Victor, please. We aren’t in our Courts and the formality invites distance. I consider you an ally, if only for the sake of our mutual niece. Getting you back to the Bright Court alongside your sister will give us the leverage and support we need to oust Gretvir and his kin, and together we’ll be able to keep her safe.”

As they talked a little further about things I didn’t quite understand, something about shorn and Glade and some foreign words that made my ears ring, it was clear whatever had happened was not good and was about to get worse if the two of them couldn’t do something. I’d caught enough of their discussion to more or less pick up the Game-of-Thrones gist of things, and the fact that Elim and Vic probably weren’t the bad guys. Wherever Vic was from, he’d been presumed dead, and wherever Elim was from, he was supposed to be dead, and his replacement sounded pretty shitty, and too interested in young girls.

The fact my mouth kept malfunctioning when I tried to deny “the bond” with Elim had convinced me that the supernatural wasn’t just a tv show, and wasn’t that some shit? I was freaked out, sure, but I wasn’t freaked out enough to suffocate myself by trying to stubborn my way out of the obvious.

I excused myself to hit the dressing room as my head spun with the new information, grateful to find the room empty so I could get dressed again in peace as the men talked things over. I chuckled sadly as I used a wet-wipe to swipe my eye makeup off in the mirror: 24 hours ago, my biggest concern had been making rent. Now I was apparently in the middle of some magical battle for a place I never dreamed actually existed, and my boss was a goddamn fairy. It still didn’t explain why I felt such a draw to Elim, but it was a small relief that magic might have something to do with my growing obsession with a practical stranger. I plunked down in a chair and pulled on my sneakers before heading back: if the world was going off the rails, I sure as shit wasn’t going to meet armageddon in heels.

“The coffee.” Vic sat straight up and looked at me, breaking off mid-sentence with Elim as I slipped back into the office. “Mel, the coffee, we figure that’s got to be it. You said Elim was holding it when you first went outside, right? And you took it back from him? You drank it? The ritual of offering and exchange wouldn’t have been enough to bond you two, not here.”

“Yeah? I get the same thing every day, you know that. Same place, too. A girl named Bailey made it for me this morning instead of Mat, but it was a little bit sweeter than normal, kinda cinnamony maybe when I took the first sip, but that’s it.” Elim was already on his feet, trading unreadable expressions with Vic as the latter reached for his office door.

“Please, you need to show us where this Second Steep is, my Queen. It could potentially save our niece and our lives.” Elim set his hands on my shoulders and touched his forehead to mine before pressing a kiss there too, his eyes flashing with hurt for a moment, whispering for my ears alone. “It may also be able to give you a choice I cannot.”

Before I could ask him what the hell he was talking about, the strange pull in my chest had me eagerly following them both out to the parking lot, and right up to my little shitkicker of a car.

ELIM

My Queen’s carriage left a great deal to be desired. Victor seemed to understand more than I did about the infernal collection of metal, glass, and some soft black material called rubber, but he didn’t appear to like it any more than I did. After moving some small key multiple times with loud exclamations of frustration, I knew I had to step in.

“You can ask me, betrothed. Ask me to remedy this, and I will. I can, for you. Ask carefully.”

Victor looked up sharply and I gave a soft shake of my head to prevent his protests. As monarchs of the Courts, we had access to the ancient knowledge of bargains. We both knew Melisandre could ask three things of me before being compelled to offer herself to me permanently, as my bride. And if I refused to take that payment when the time came, I’d perish with the next sunrise. Fae bargains with humans were rare and legendary for a reason: they usually came with dear costs for one side or the other.

“Oh! Like a genie thing? Cool!” She looked elated, which only made Victor’s brow crease further. We could not explain the terms to her, only offer a warning to be careful, and even that was testing our limits. The burden was on humans that enacted a bargain to understand the terms, or ask about them before agreeing. Mel had done neither of those things, and I only hoped I wouldn’t have to lay down my life for her to understand.

With Victor carefully keeping watch, I pulled on the bond for the precious magic I needed to transform the carriage with a permanent glamor. Though it temporarily exhausted me, we were on our way to Second Steep shortly after in a new, sleek carriage that seemed to fill Mel with equal measures of relief and joy. She talked happily about her new gift removing the stress of something called gas prices, and some sort of metal necromancer called a mechanic that had demanded steep prices to keep her previous carriage barely mobile. The new carriage, which she called a lehx-suhs, pleased her greatly, and her elation was infectious despite the urgency of our errand.

I did not like the carriage at first, the jolting and halting and speed felt unnatural. I eyed the metal warily, avoiding contact before Victor explained that iron here was not nearly as potent as what we called iron in our realms. There was mild discomfort, and I certainly wouldn’t want to sleep on a bed crafted from it, but it was tolerable.

The moment we stepped into the store where Mel had gotten the drink that bound us, I knew something otherworldly was present. Magic hung heavy in the air, and more alarmingly, so did the scent of Unseelie. Victor tensed at my expression, sharing a glance with me: I wished we had weapons at the ready, because something was wrong.

I gently guided Melisandre to stand behind me as some curtains parted behind the counter, a shapeshifter blinking at us as he guided a woman of his own behind him, equally protective.

“Bailey!” Mel smiled and waved from behind me, the girl giving her a confused look before hesitantly waving back.

“Mel? Who the hell are these guys?” The shapeshifter spoke, a trio of tails, one injured, sweeping out behind him as he glanced at us with deep suspicion.

“Who the fuck are you.” I bowed, eager to diffuse the situation, and Mel smacked the side of my arm with a laugh.

“Elim, My King, that doesn’t mean what you seem to think it does. Just say hello and stop being weird.” I tried valiantly to ignore the fact her use of my formal title, however joking, made my cock harder than the fifth soil.

“Ah, hello then. I am Elim Shadowcourt, first heir, and I come in the company of Victor Brightcourt, also first heir. We come to ask about your elixir of caw-fhee and passage between the realms.” I straightened to face the extremely embarrassed-looking shifter, one who struggled to meet my gaze.

“Your graces. I am called Matcha, kitsune and conveyor of this house for all things unseen. I apologize deeply for what has occurred. My new mate Bailey-” He brought the girl forward, looping a possessive arm around her side, “-wisely suggested I might use my magics elsewhere when a pair of Unseelie assassins destroyed my tea last night. I used my foxfire to roast some coffee beans this morning and while I was busy the grounds were unfortunately combined with some previously-enchanted components and given to your-erm…”

I fixed him with a glare. “My betrothed, Melisandre. Yes, I’m well aware of the error, considering we were both bound by it. Is there no way to undo what you’ve done? My Queen deserves the freedom to choose her own suitor.” To my delight, Mel rested her cheek on my shoulder with a warm familiarity as she listened. Perhaps, even unbound, the resilient, beautiful human might still consider me as an interest, though hope seemed like such a fragile thing all around now.

“That, my grace, I fear I cannot unweave. I wouldn’t even know where to start, to be honest, as whatever bound you both wasn’t created with intention, but chance and fate. I also cannot work larger magics right now, given my wounds and the state of my teahouse both came at the hands of two Unseelie men searching for, if I’m not mistaken, you. They’d left me for dead, but my beautiful mate thankfully saved my life.” He glanced fondly at Bailey, who leaned to kiss his cheek affectionately. I frowned, inhaling the scent of Unseelie again, with the grim knowledge that my cousins wouldn’t have trusted their lackeys with such an important task as my retrieval.

“But, passage between the realms, that I may be able to assist with. I’d been working on something for some of my other clients, a way to reduce public sightings during crossovers.” Matcha waved us behind the counter, where we all shuffled through a small food preparation area and over to a large silver door. When he opened it with a flourish, a cold wind tumbled out, revealing a dark interior cluttered with boxes.

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