Page 36 of Hell on Wheels

“Do you mean the one where you drank all of us under the table? I’m not surethat’sa smart plan. This place is packed and Reb’s meeting with Sariah and her girl. I don’t want to carry you out when we leave.”

Rogue waves her hand at the server to call them over. “I suggest you gird your loins, Mr. Proper. If we have to sit here and watch the party, we’re going to get schnockered, whether you like it or not.”

The poor server recognizes her, so I watch them chatter for a few minutes before Dragonfly instructs her to bring a fairy princess cart to the table. The girl sneaks a look at me and giggles, then takes off.

This is very, very bad.

“I don’t think a fairy princess cart is a good idea…” I start, feeling the fire in my veins flicker to life as I think about it. “That’s a bitmuch, Dragonfly. Plus, the rest of them are going to murder me if I let you?—”

“Let me?” Her growl is dark and I blink. It doesn’t sound like her normal fury. “Javier Emil King, I will not tell you fools again. You. Don’t. Own. Me.”

I shake my head ruefully. “I’m well aware of that. But a fairy princess cart?”

Before I can talk her out of it, the girl returns with a mischievous grin. She’s pushing the fancy looking cart full of Fae drinks and treats carefully—the slightest jostle could send dust into the air and wreak havoc with the other patrons. Everyone knows to avoid these like the plague unless you plan on getting so thrashed you barely remember your name, but Rogue isn’t your typical woman.

Also, she’s Dark Unseelie and this shit won’t affect her nearly as much as it will me. That's her gambit.

“Javier Emil King, do you accept my challenge?” Her expression is playful, but I know she’s deadly serious. Using my full name means she’s asking for definitive consent, and I can’t ignore what that might mean.

I’m surprised, maybe, but not stupid enough to decline.

“I do, Rogue Olive Kelly.” A sharp elbow connects with my ribs when I say her middle name and I laugh. “Why is it that your people can make such a big deal of everyone else’s name, but you get pissed if we reciprocate?”

She picks up a delicate pink and greenpetit four, holding it up for me. “There’s power in a true name, Javi, particularly for us. The names you know are only the ones given to us by a witch and a Brownie—our true names are only known to one another. Even the Society knows not to list them in our documents. So the most powerful elements are protected, sure, but you don’t need a nuke to drive a nail. A lower magic user can do damage with the full ‘normie’ name as well.”

I take a bite, considering when I hear my full name—outside of her and Rebel. Even when it’s not a Fae, the use of my entire name is typically reserved for my disappointed parents or some legal form. It makes sense that other species have picked up the Fae’s aversion to giving that kind of power away. “Okay. I’ll use Dragonfly instead.”

“Good boy,” she chuckles, winking at me. “How does that taste?”

“Like fucking springtime in cake form. How the hell do you people do this shit?” I swallow and a warm, languid feeling spreads through my limbs immediately.

“It’s in our blood.” Her eyes dance and she pops a midnight blue cake with stars on it into her mouth with a moan that makes my cock jump. “I prefer the Midnight Court’s version because, even though I can’t remember, it tastes like home.”

My head buzzes a little as I accept the martini glass of light colored alcohol she lifts from the cart despite the fog andsparkles emanating from it. “I’m only familiar with the Spring Court—which I’d guess these are from—and the Winter Court.”

Rogue snorts. “Rumors and garbage. There are Seelie and Unseelie. The Seelie prefer the warmer climes, which is why everyone thinks they are summer and spring. Unseelie are seen as darker and more unforgiving, so they are relegated to Winter and Fall. Death touches us all, so the assignation of morals based on what weather we prefer is simplistic at best.”

I sip my drink, tasting sunshine and meadows. “So correct the gossip. I’m a captive audience—something I hear your people also prefer.”

Her face turns bright red and she mutters something I don’t catch before she nods. “Okay. Like everyone else, we have inherently good and inherently bad people in both races. The majority are more ambiguous, just like humans or other supe groups. However, if you’re looking forourclassification system, it won’t match what legends and media tell you.”

After selecting a purple bonbon, she pauses as she chews, clearly deciding how to explain. “There are Seelie and Unseelie. Royals, royal adjacents, craftsman, artisans, academics, and healers are part of all Fae life. But when we look at who’s in charge—the royals—we prefer the Midnight Court, the Daybreak Court, the Harvest Court, and the Court of Reaping.”

I didn’t expect her to be so candid about Fae life. Usually, their kind won’t even speak of life in the Faerie on this side of the divide.

“Will you get in trouble for telling me this?” I ask. She shrugs and pours herself a glass that looks like it’s filled with somethingpoured from the heart of a glacier. “Rogue, will you get in trouble?”

“Only if you tell anyone. I can share with specific people at specific times. I’m choosing you now because you asked me,” she replies. The sip she takes must be ice cold because she shivers and gives me a delighted look. “I rarely partake in the Court of Reaping’s goodies, but this is amazing.”

Leaning in, I tilt the glass towards me and take a drink. The icy blast on my tongue is amazing. I look into her eyes as I savor the flavor, watching her cheeks pinken slightly. Fae magic is swirling in my body and it makes the tattoos on her skin illuminate without the help of black light. When I pull away, my eyes catch on something I couldn’t see before I consumed the faerie treats: mating marks.

“Dragonfly!” I whisper as I look around us carefully for any lurkers. “You… There are… you havethreemate marks.”

Have I lost my chance? Who did this?

This time, her face turns scarlet, and all the Fae tattoos glow eerily. “I… I do.”

“Rebel is going to losehis fucking mind.” Muttering as I run a hand through my hair, I feel the fire in my gut roar in fury. The phoenix is pushing its way out, demanding to be recognized by the girl in front of me. I swallow hard, unsure what to do. Whoever dared to mate with her is going to have a tough row to hoe, particularly when Rebel finds out. And multiple mates arealwaysa struggle at the beginning, unless their families are polyamorous by species.

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