Up in the Air: Faerietales, #3

Up in the Air

By Jeannette DiLouie

Copyright 2015 © Jeannette DiLouie

All Right Reserved

Dedication:

To my amazing parents, Jim and Annette DiLouie, who taught me that I can do just about anything I set my mind to... including let my imagination fly. I might not have literal wings, but what you did give me works quite well. Love you both so very much!

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Faerietales Book 4: Wing and Dagger

About the Author

Chapter 1

Staring into the bathroom mirror of her royal palace bedroom suite, Sabrina knew she was woefully out of her league.

She had handled a lot in the last year: finding out she was a faerie princess, running away from America to the supposed safety of Scotland, meeting the older brother she never knew existed, and getting kidnapped by one of the most evil organizations the world ever knew. Twice. Moreover, she had somehow managed to get through all of it alive and with an admirable part of her sanity intact. With all that behind her, a party shouldn’t feel like such an ordeal.

In the back of her mind, Sabrina knew very well that it wasn’t. Not comparatively speaking. Yet that didn’t mean she was looking forward to the schedule spread out before her.

Her brother Kenneth was throwing a gala in her honor. It was the welcome party she was supposed to have had months ago, soon after she gained the physical capabilities to assimilate into faerie life. But the Human Preservation and Advancement Committee had gotten in the way of those happy arrangements.

It had a long track record of messing up Sabrina’s life, almost from birth.

She hadn’t even been a year old when HPAC operatives assassinated her parents, the then-king and queen of Scottish Faeriedom. That unexpected tragedy propelled Sabrina’s much older brother onto the throne, where his panicked advisers convinced him to send the other remaining member of the royal family far, far away. That was how Sabrina grew up thinking herself an American orphan, far removed from such nonsensical notions as winged people or secret societies or tiaras on her head.

It wasn’t until the HPAC reappeared full-force in her life more than two decades later that she was stripped of that snuggly delusion. The organization’s hardcore certainty that her kind didn’t deserve basic human consideration led to her near-drowning in a Florida hot tub, several applications of electrical shock motivation, and a nasty bout of Stockholm syndrome.

After all that, not to mention growing out her very own pair of wings, it was rather difficult not to believe in faeries.

Sabrina arched said wings behind her back, watching their mirrored image stretch as well. As a general rule, she loved them, with their elongated teardrop shape and lime-green coloring that faded into yellow further in. By faerie standards, they were fully functional and fully regal.

But by her standards right then, they were also fully problematic. If she hadn’t grown into them and hadn’t developed the ability to size-change into the far smaller spaces belowground, which faeries called downstairs, she wouldn’t have to attend any royal parties. She’d be scot-free.

Sabrina sighed at her reflection.

It sighed right back at her.

The defeatist attitude she was currently fostering showed on her face, but otherwise she looked perfectly presentable. Her bright blond hair was pulled into a sporty ponytail, with any and all wisps held in by half a can of hairspray. Her green eyes might not be sparkling, but she knew she could put on a good show as soon as she had to. And her petite but curvy figure was clad in preppy grey slacks and a vibrantly deep blue blouse. Low purple heels, purple earrings and a purple bracelet completed the day’s princess look; and one non-nervous part of her acknowledged the fact that she wore it all well.

The problem was that a polished wardrobe and impeccable manners weren’t going to save her from gossip. The palace was already filling with people who were doubtlessly wondering about her and whispering about the details of her far-from-normal life. Sabrina hated knowing that she was such an open book to not only her own country’s long list of diplomats and dignitaries and masses, but also for Ireland’s faerie populace, Wales’, Britain’s, Germany’s, Spain’s, and the list went on.

She wasn’t being egocentric believing they were all whispering about her. She’d made the faerie headlines too many times for them not to have formed their own opinions.

Those opinions could range from how uncultured she was as an American human, to far more charitable estimations of how well she was holding up after her multiple run-ins with the dreaded HPAC. Despite how carefully Kenneth had tried to handle the press after her last encounter, there was only so much he could do. The palace was filled with too many people, all of whom knew very well that the severely traumatized Princess Sabrina was holed up in her suite for a week straight after her brother brought her back downstairs. What she went through at the hands of our greatest enemies, we might never know.

That was an exact quote taken from one particular melodramatic publication. Worse yet, it wasn’t untrue. There was nothing the royal spokesfaeries could refute about that obnoxious article. All it could do was ask everyone to respect the family’s privacy as they get through this difficult time, a wasted appeal right from the beginning.

People talked just the same in Faeriedom as in the human world.

Despite all of that prying and gossip and speculation, there were just a handful of people who knew the full details. That included Kenneth, his wife Kyla, their son Alistair, her best friend Deanda. And Dallas.

Dallas, who was her official escort to the ball that night. Dallas, who had seen her at her very lowest point.

Which she didn’t want to think about.

It was therefore extremely convenient when someone knocked on her door.

Chapter 2

Since she already knew who to expect, Sabrina didn’t hesitate in trotting over. Unlocking it, she flew several steps backward to get out of the way for her best friend, who was awkwardly cradling a pile of parcels.

There was a particularly large squarish box on the very bottom, with three smaller yet still cumbersome packages on top of that, and five more stacked on top of those. Sabrina couldn’t even see Deanda’s face behind them, just her beautiful black and white wings, which were stretched out on either side for balance.

What in the world are you doing?

Bringing you more gifts from the latest attendees to stroll through the door, Deanda trilled happily. Don’t worry. They’ve all been screened. Where should I put them?

Sabrina looked around her usually neat and tidy room. Presents had been arriving for the last four days straight, and most of them were still lying unopened around her suite. Some were stacked behind the yellow couch, others were piled along the far side of her four-post bed, and still more lined the wall on either end of her walk-in closet.

Put them anywhere. She shrugged despite how Deanda couldn’t see her. I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, but this is getting ridiculous. I live in a palace; I’m pretty sure I’m not hurting for anything.

Laughing in agreement, her best friend headed toward the couch, where she somehow managed to set everything neatly on top of the boxes already sitting there.

Speaking of the girl who has everything, Sabrina added, why are you delivering my packages anyway? Are future queens allowed to do such menial chores?

Deanda, who was steadily dating the future Scottish king, turned around to show her face, her violet eyes twinkling. Future queens are allowed to bully current princesses’ future boyfriends into handing over said packages they so obviously took from menial laborers.

Sabrina scrunched her forehead in complete confusion at the convoluted comeback. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Seriously.

Dallas was looking for an excuse to come see you.

Oh. Sabrina brushed that aside without so much as a blush, only a sad little twinge in her stomach. I’m sure he was just on his way to pick me up for our final dance lesson.

So it’s weird for your best friend to bring packages over, but not for your non-boyfriend? Deanda crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows to emphasize her point. Anyway, your lesson isn’t for another twenty minutes, which makes his behavior even more suspicious.

Dallas is not my boyfriend, Sabrina assured calmly, making herself meet Deanda’s gaze for all of three seconds. And what do you think of these shoes? Do they work or is it too much purple?

They’re fine. You look awesome. There was no hesitation in the response. Either to the wardrobe question or the protest before it. And I never said Dallas was your boyfriend. I implied he was your ‘non-boyfriend.’ That means you guys are mooning over each other without actually doing anything about it.

Sabrina went over to her ornate and multi-drawered jewelry box to pretend like she was reconsidering her earring choices, even going so far as to pick one up and hold it to her lobe. We are not ‘mooning over each other.’ Dallas doesn’t see me that way. Not anymore.

Facing the mirror again, she compared the shade of purple already dangling from her ears to the one she knew she wasn’t going to exchange it with. In her new world, there were whole color schemes humans couldn’t come close to imagining when they didn’t have the powerful eyesight faeries did. In many ways, that newfound superiority made coordinating outfits with wing hues a lot easier. But there were still pairings that clashed, or at least didn’t look nearly as good.

She put the second set of earrings back in their little enclosure, then turned back to Deanda, who was regarding her with assumed superiority.

Sabrina refused to be baited though. There wasn’t a trace of bitterness or horror or even irritation in her voice when she responded to the unspoken challenge. Which showed how much her etiquette lessons were paying off.

I know we had a thing for a week or two when I first arrived, but that was before everything that happened happened. Dallas doesn’t see me that way anymore. He’s barely even teased me since we got back from that HPAC facility, much less made any romantic moves. That was where the training slipped and she let something out that she didn’t mean to. I don’t know if he blames me or is disgusted with me, but that spark is gone regardless.

Are you done? Deanda asked with an impressive combination of condescension and sympathy: a blend very few people other than true best friends could manage.

Sabrina shrugged her wings.

Wonderful. Deanda took a seat on the plush yellow comforter. In that case, wake up and smell reality. Dallas doesn’t blame you, and he’s definitely not disgusted with you. He blames himself, which, deep down inside, you know.

She wasn’t entirely wrong; but that didn’t mean Sabrina could be entirely confident she was right. He has no reason to blame himself. If anything, I was the one who got him into that mess in the first place. It wasn’t his fault.

And it wasn’t yours either, Deanda stated firmly. It was the HPAC’s. I really wish you two would accept that already. It’s painful watching you guys beat yourselves up like this day after day when there’s a whole lot of other people who deserve that kind of punishment.

The uncomfortable sensation in Sabrina’s stomach was starting to spread, as it did whenever she dwelt too long on the current topic of discussion.

Can we not do this right now, Dee? It sounded like a question, but it was much more of a plea. I promise we can have a good, long discussion about it later. But not now. Not when I have to get through tonight without making an absolute idiot of myself.

Deanda sighed, her wings waving unhappily behind her. Then she bucked up and switched the subject as requested. You’re not going to make an idiot out of yourself. You’ve been training for this for four whole months now.

I feel like I need another four months. Minimum.

It was her own fault she didn’t have that extra wiggle room. Her brother had made it very clear she could take as much time as she needed or even wanted. There was no pressure whatsoever. But after her first week back, plagued with memories of Tasers and batons and Dr. Stewart’s fingers wrapped around her chained leg, Sabrina had been ready to do anything for a distraction. She’d thrown herself into her new life, taking classes and courses and tutorials and accepting honorary placements on charity boards with perhaps a little too much zeal.

All of that helped, but only so much, especially when she kept catching unfortunate snippets of rag-mag gossip and even more professional articles about her heavy-handed confrontations with the HPAC. And so she’d determined to give them something else to talk about, like how well she was doing and what dress she would be wearing to the royal ball.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

I stepped on Dallas’ foot during dance lessons last week, she confided. He was a trooper, but I know it hurt. I was in stilettos. It had to have hurt.

So there you go, Deanda assured as if this was the best news ever. You already know if you step on his feet tonight, he’ll be able to play it off like nothing happened. What else is there to worry about!

Despite herself, Sabrina had to smile.

Her friend went on after missing the perfect beat. It’s really nothing. You mix and mingle, and whenever you run out of stuff to say, you give the excuse that you’d better get back to greeting everyone, but ‘it was so lovely to chat, and I do hope you enjoy the rest of the party.’

That easy, huh? She said dryly.

Yup, Deanda assured, rolling her eyes at the simplicity of the matter. Blah blah, chirp chirp, beep beep. Piece of cake.

Sabrina refrained from pointing out that her fellow faerie had grown up with the cocktails and ballgowns scene. It would be a pointless effort when her friend seemed so determined to be optimistic about everything. So she changed the subject yet again.

Now that you mention ‘cake,’ where’s Alistair and why aren’t you hanging all over him? The transition made a lot more sense in her head than out loud, but she didn’t bother to explain it.

She eyed the bed, one part of her wanting to sit down with Deanda, the other part too antsy to actually do it. Instead, she began running her wings up and down the wall behind her in no particular pattern or rhythm.

I do have a life outside of my boyfriend, Deanda retorted. Best friends still take priority, and I knew you’d be stressing.

Best friends take priority, Sabrina agreed, complete with her own knowing look. But this best friend is okay if you want to try smoothing things over with your man. I know something’s off between you two, and I’m pretty darn sure I’m not so wrapped up in my own self to not know what that something is.

Someone knocked on the door before she could completely finish her sentence, ending the chance to have that particular chat.

Deanda grimaced in acknowledgment anyway.

With the influx of well-to-do guests flooding the palace for the last few days, there had been plenty of little spats and drama to juice up the gossip mills. As Deanda had predicted a full week ago, You can’t expect a bunch of spoiled royals to coexist peacefully under one roof. They’re so temperamental.

Sabrina had countered by reminding her that she’d likely be royal too within the next two years. Yet as usual, her friend produced a quick retort, specifically that she would be marrying into the family; she wasn’t spoiled by birth.

Sabrina hadn’t taken offense at the time, and she could see Deanda’s point even more so now. One of the many minor issues marking the soiree was German Princess Elena. The twenty-three year-old had apparently long since set her sights on Alistair, and was making it very clear she didn’t care that he was in a relationship now. While her behavior wasn’t the Scottish prince’s fault, it was still making for some tense times between him and Deanda.

We can talk about this later too, Sabrina assured, flitting her wings enough to float off the floor. Then she was at the door, opening it up to greet Dallas, who was a full ten minutes early.

Early and standing somewhat awkwardly between her guards, Gerard and Simon, who were on duty that day. It was hard not to notice his discomfort when he was so very oblivious to his own feelings half the time. Or maybe it was because they’d gone through so much that she could read him like an attractive but pretty messed-up book.

There was a reason why she had been physically drawn to him from the start. He was tall, dark blonde and handsome, with beautiful brown eyes and smoky green wings. Moreover, he’d been working out a lot more ever since his return from HPAC captivity, which meant it was even more difficult to keep her eyes away from the defined muscles in his brawny arms. Or the way his shirt lay against his tight chest.

Hey, Dallas, she said in her best normal voice, which was a whole lot better than his. I don’t think the dance studio is going to be open until ten-thirty. Wanna come in and kill time ‘til then?

Oh. Yeah, he hedged. I thought we could just walk slow.

A fast walker herself, Sabrina found his response doubly offbeat. She held the door open a little further. Well, Deanda is here –

Oh, sorry, he interrupted. I didn’t realize that. I can come back in a bit.

Dallas, Deanda called out from her place on the comforter. Stop stalling and get your fine self in here.

He complied, but Sabrina could see his eyes settle on the bed. Then he tore his gaze upward to say hello to the other faerie in the room, a pained expression lingering on his face. How’s it going?

With almost all altruistic motivations, Sabrina decided to answer that question instead. She’s upset about Elena.

Deanda swiveled her head away from Dallas to glare her exasperation.

She chose to ignore it, knowing full well that Dallas would be able to back her up on the issue.

Sure enough, his features twisted in immediate skepticism. Why? Because she’s chasing Alistair?

Yeah, Sabrina supplied again, resorting to some Scottish vernacular for emphasis. She’s acting the daft lassie.

He shrugged his wide shoulders, his wings moving easily behind him. Trust me, he doesn’t care about her. She’s all high-street with no real class.

See? Sabrina said with a pointed tone and matching stare. Told ya.

Her laugh is annoying too, Dallas noted, more to himself than anyone else. I can’t wait until she leaves.

Same here, Sabrina agreed, growing much more introspective. If only because that’ll mean this whole thing is over and done with.

Speaking of which. Deanda hopped off the bed with a little too much enthusiasm. You guys should get going. Have fun dancing! And Za?

Recognizing the particular tone in her voice, Sabrina’s eyes narrowed.

Already halfway to the door, Deanda didn’t quite stop in that trajectory to toss a final word of advice over one wing. That conversation we’re going to have later? This might be a good time to start practicing.

And then she was gone, leaving her friend to frown at the hallway, and Dallas to look completely confused. Though that emotion lasted briefly before he reverted right back to nervousness.

You ready?

Considering the way his entire body was leaning away from her, Sabrina was fairly certain he wasn’t referring to anything romantic, no matter what Deanda wanted to think. She nodded, swallowing back the degree of disappointment that welled up inside her unbidden.

Might as well.

Locking her door behind them, she knew very well why Dallas had felt so uncomfortable in her bedroom. He always was when he stopped by, which was always when he was with Alistair; never by himself.

Admittedly, he wouldn’t have visited her there alone even if things had been different. Not to do more than pick her up anyway. Faerie culture was still pretty conservative in a lot of ways, including when it came to dating rules. Her brother in particular didn’t condone unchaperoned lingering in the opposite sex’s bedroom. And it would have been difficult to get around his wishes when she had at least two bodyguards, who just so happened to be in his employ, around her whenever she wasn’t in her private quarters.

That should have meant she and Dallas had nothing awkward to dwell on when it came to bedrooms. However, the HPAC had written out a different story for them, one that had ultimately failed but still resulted in uncomfortable memories.

With both of them held captive at the time, the humans had gone out of their way to set them up, employing various torture tactics until Dallas was going out of his mind with worry and Sabrina was going out of her mind in general, thanks in part to a drugged-up drink she was coerced into taking.

She still didn’t remember the entire encounter she’d literally stumbled into, though she did know she’d done her best to ravish him. Dallas had used very cagey language when he described that part to their lawyer, Elizabeth. However, being a connoisseur of literature, Sabrina was used to reading between the lines.

With the fine print of Dallas’ testimony burned across her retinas, Sabrina had put two and two together. If she was right about that equation – and she thought she was – then she had jumped him, he’d fended her off like a gentleman and they’d spent the night snuggling, him shirtless and her in a ridiculous red dress that showed way too much off.

She remembered those last two details at least. As much as she might wish otherwise, she remembered everything after waking up in the oversexed room with its seductive colors and satin sheets.

So she was very well aware that she’d freaked out and huddled in a corner. That the thoroughly evil Stewart had come barging in like he was saving her when he really just meant to terrorize her into further submission. And that he and Dr. Morrison had planned on foisting the contrived romance on their two subjects again at a later time and place when they were more certain to get what they wanted. Which happened to be little faerie lab rats to add to the full-grown subjects they already had.

That was what her bedroom made Dallas think of; and that was why she couldn’t blame him for balking about coming in. Sabrina just hoped he knew the truth. That she had only been trying to be friendly this time around. She wasn’t trying to ravish him all over again.

For one very brief second, while she was turning away from the door, she wondered if she had the nerve to tell him that. But she chickened out well before she turned to face him again with a perfect smile on her face.

Deanda was entirely correct. There were issues that needed to be addressed all around, this being one of them. It was merely a question of when to do that addressing.

In that one regard, she supposed, the party was a saving grace for her. Comparatively speaking, she’d much rather focus on her guests.

Chapter 3

Say something to distract me, Sabrina ordered after a mere minute’s walk down the hallway in the direction of the dance studio.

Gerard and Simon followed behind her, matching her pace perfectly right down to her footsteps, which forced her brain to count out a terse beat of One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.

Try as she did, every time she practiced her dancing, she found herself focusing too much on the footwork and not enough on the actual dance. In so doing, she usually messed herself up and definitely never relaxed. And it looked like today was going to be worse than normal considering how far in advance she’d started counting before the music began playing. That was why she needed a diversion of some sort.

She should have known Dallas wasn’t the one to fulfill that particular request.

Erm, he stalled, his wings fluttering enough to create a small breeze around them. Are you okay?

No. It came out sounding something very close to snappish. I’m freaking out. Which is why I need you to distract me.

The exceptionally concerned look he shot her ended up doing the trick, but in all the wrong ways. Sabrina knew exactly where his mind went. He’d assumed she was having a flashback to her time with Stewart; and thanks to him, now she was. On top of the worries she’d already been dealing with.

That nervous energy channeled into pure crankiness, pushing her to go for broke with unflinching candor. It wasn’t her usual style, but when motivated enough, she could get brutally honest.

With his simple and yet very complex question, Dallas had propelled her over the line, and Sabrina let him know in no uncertain tones. You have to stop that.

Stop what? His face now showed a sort of panicked confusion.

Looking at me like that. She came to a halt right there in the middle of the hallway, grateful that nobody but her bodyguards were around. If there had been, she knew she would have held her tongue, and she had to acknowledge how good it felt to vent. You’re treating me like my entire world revolved around what they did. I’m trying to get over it. I really am. But you giving me that sad, pitying look all the time isn’t helping.

I’m sorry.

She knew he meant the apology about as sincerely as anyone could. The crestfallen pull at his eyes and mouth sent her irritation skittering to the side in favor of a humongous heaping of guilt for making him feel bad. Without the aid of her righteous indignation, her motivation to discuss difficult topics fell by the wayside.

All the same, she had little choice but to proceed. I know you don’t mean to make things worse, but you taking that tone and regarding me like that just makes me remember it more than I already am. I want you to treat me like I’m me, not like I’m some fragile victim.

Sabrina watched a drastic set of emotions play across Dallas’ face. She saw the way his fists clenched and unclenched several times at his side, signifying that he might not be able to meet her request as easily as she wanted him to.

She persisted anyway. Do you get what I’m saying?

It practically came out as a prayer, a desperate request for understanding. If a person could be killed with kindness, she was sure Dallas would have taken her out months ago.

When he still didn’t respond, she took a deep, calming breath and started walking, not bothering to wait for his brain to keep up any more than she did his feet. And when he was at her side again, she threw him a bone.

Look, if being my escort tonight is going to be too difficult for you to handle, I hereby absolve you of your duties. It was sweet of you to step in, but I’m sure I can find someone else. The truth was Sabrina had no idea whether that was possible or not, but she cared too much about him and her own sanity to distress either of them further if there was some way around it.

He blinked, clearly taken aback. Why would I not want to escort you? His brain must have still been working to process everything, because in the next breath, his eyes went about as blank as he could possibly make them, and his tone became flat. Unless you don’t want to go with me.

None of his carefully closed-off walls meant Sabrina didn’t understand she’d just hurt his feelings. It set her own emotions on another unplanned turn, which wasn’t at all unusual around him. Her attitude toward Dallas switched a lot. She couldn’t even blame her kidnapping trauma for that; he’d had that effect on her right from the start.

You’re impossible, she informed him, rolling her eyes dramatically. Do you know that?

I’m sorry? He was right back to not knowing what to say.

That was it. She gave up. Come on. Let’s just go dance.

Do you still want me to distract you?

Sure, Sabrina agreed amiably enough. Why not. Watcha wearin’ tonight? Some snooty faerie designer I’ve never heard of?

She was relieved to hear him laugh at that, the sound just as genuine as every other attitude he’d displayed in the last five minutes.

Aerifeth. That’s what I normally wear to these things.

Sabrina nodded despite not recognizing the brand. Her experiences in Faeriedom were still rather limited since she didn’t like straying too far from the automatic protection and comfort the palace offered. Fortunately for her, there were plenty of things to do in her new home. Even the dance studio she’d been practicing at was safe and sound inside her brother’s beautiful fortress.

Ten hallways later, they’d arrived at their destination; and seven minutes more meant she was in Dallas’ arms, gliding across the floor as best as she could to a striking and intricate tune. The original piece was by a legendary composer, who wasn’t anywhere so human as his fans upstairs assumed. The rendition Sabrina had chosen was even less so, filled with dueling pianos and lilting flutes and instruments she couldn’t name that made it a haunting depiction of Celtic life from centuries ago.

It never failed to make her heart melt, even if it didn’t have such softer effects on her feet.

A quick glance at the mirrored walls around them showed that her face was squidged up in concentration just as expected. She didn’t like the mirrors when she was dancing, though she hadn’t said as much to anyone other than Deanda. They were supposed to give her insight into what she was doing and how she was doing it. Yet she felt like they just added to her stress levels in the end.

When she’d gotten the privilege of watching other faeries dance in the room, it was quite the different experience. They managed to make every angle and reflection look intricate and easy, powerful and delicate all at once, a combination she aspired to with very little actual hope but a lot of wistful delusion.

For all that, the mirrors were only half of the room’s charm: the lower half, to be specific. Fashioned with pure white oak, the rest of the walls were carved into simple perfection at the base.