Page 156 of Magical Mayhem
Twobble’s brows shot up. “Fiber arts?”
“Yes! Don’t laugh. She had skeins of the stuff. Soft, scratchy, enchanted, who knows. Next thing we knew, Stella was tied up tighter than a roast and twirling from the ceiling fan.”
Gasps and muffled laughter rippled through the students still lingering nearby.
“And Lady Limora?” I asked low.
Skonk’s blush deepened until it looked like his whole face might ignite. “Tied to the bed. With Vivienne, Opal, and Mara. Arms out, all very dramatic, like one of those tawdry romance novels Stella hides under her shawls. Yarn everywhere. It smelled like lavender wool.”
I groaned, pressing a hand to my forehead.
“And Gideon?”
Skonk winced. “He fled with Luna. Yarn trickery still around his arms. I barely got away myself. Crawled through a window like a dignified goblin.”
Keegan swayed slightly, catching himself against the step’s railing. His face was pale, but his eyes were blazing. “You left the elderly vampires tied up in one of my hotel rooms?”
The courtyard rippled with suppressed laughter, but Keegan’s tone carried a bite that silenced it quickly.
Skonk adjusted an imaginary tie at his throat, straightening with mock dignity.
“Well. When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound nearly as heroic as me coming here to get help to rescue them, does it?”
Twobble’s mouth spread into a wide, toothy grin. He shook his head in sheer delight, crumbs tumbling from his chin. “Now who’s the Twiblet?”
A roar of laughter erupted around us this time, but I couldn’t laugh.
My heart hammered too fast.
Stella. Lady Limora. Vivienne. Mara. Opal. Incapacitated.
Gideon gone with Luna of all people pulling the strings, literally.
I stared hard at Skonk, my voice tight. “You’re lucky I don’t charm you into a ball of yarn myself.”
He winced, then threw up his hands. “Hey, I didn’tplanfor the yarn witch to burst in. I thought my job was just babysitting the cursed mage. Not fending off enchanted knitting circles!”
Twobble wiped his nose on his sleeve, still giggling. “You’ve got to admit, Maeve, the visual is incredible. Stella twirling from a ceiling fan? I might die happy if it didn’t mean Gideon was on the loose.”
I sat back down on the step, my head spinning, my hands trembling. The warm summer air pressed close, the stars overhead bright as ever, but it did nothing to soothe me.
Luna was gone. Gideon too.
And somehow, some way, this wasn’t over.
Chapter Forty-Seven
The courtyard still smelled like smoke, but the battle had shifted into its awkward aftermath. People sat in clusters, murmuring, laughing too loudly, or just staring at the sky as though waiting for it to break again. The stars held steady, bright and strange.
Nova brushed down her cloak, her raven-dark hair catching starlight as she strode toward me. Ardetia wasn’t far behind, her fae grace still pristine despite the chaos. They both looked like women who had not only survived a war but were already drafting its report.
Nova’s green eyes landed on me. “We’ll fetch Stella.”
Ardetia tilted her chin. “And the others.” Her lips curved faintly, dry humor glinting in her voice. “I’ll come with you.”
I almost laughed, but the sound caught in my throat. “Skonk, is she… still on the ceiling fan?”
He piped up, ever helpful. “Spinning. Like a very angry chandelier.”
