Carrie Jones - Entice

“I would take it all away if I could,” he says.

“Why?”

It’s his turn to shrug. “I just would.”

My butt rests against the MINI. I reach out and wipe the snow off his shoulders. “I wish you could.”

His fingers curl around my wrists, wrapping the ends of my mittens with warmth.

“Zara?” His voice is hoarse and aching.

I tilt my head and before I know it I’m clinging on to him, like he’s some magic tether that keeps me from sinking under with grief and pain and loss. His head dips down and our lips touch just the faintest of whispers, and then they mold right into each other, aching for life and comfort, longing to know that we aren’t alone. The world shimmers. He clutches me closer, and it’s just the two of us standing in the snowflakes, air swirling around us, the world spinning on its axis, time slowly clicking forward. It’s like the world has wrapped us up in old blankets, warming us with passion and need and…

I break away first. My hand flutters to cover my lips. “Oh… Oh…”

Someone starts a car in the next aisle and pulls out of the space. I try to figure out what to say, what to feel. Astley kissed me. And it was nice. It was more than nice. I can’t-

Astley interrupts my thoughts. His face is suddenly hard, lined. “It was all a trap. My mother set us up. She hoped to kill you at the bar, but she had a backup plan. Vander must have been beholden to her, in league with her. It’s rare, but it can happen, because she was the queen and I am not as strong as I should be.”

Shock ripples through me. “Why? Why would she want to kill me?”

“She is the widow of a king. If I died, she could choose her own king and rule through him, but now that you’re alive, you have that power instead of her.”

I try to process that. If Astley died, I’d have to find another king. And if we both died, she’d get to rule again. “That’s horrible. She meant to kill me? And you?”

“She killed my last queen, I think, through treachery. And Iceland- She- It was her. I am sure of it.”

Concentrating on his face, I try to push the anger out of my gut and focus on him and his hurt, his loss. I don’t know what it could possibly be like to have a mother like that. How alone he must feel. As I watch his lips, my stomach hitches up. I kissed him. We kissed each other. We…

He swallows so hard that I can hear it. “I shall find him.”

“What?” Shaking my head, I try to clear my brain. “What do you mean?”

“I will find your wolf. I want you to want me because you want me, not because of grief, not because he is not here. I want you to love me for me. I want you to kiss me first and not because you need me to help you, but because you need to kiss me .” He lifts his eyebrows just a little bit and his lips open. I drop my hand, reach for him, but he steps back and whisks away, dodging behind cars, before I have a chance to say that I don’t want to lose him too.

I see Astley the next day after school. He meets me in the parking lot and we stand by the MINI. His eyes are soft but wary-he’s watching the perimeter of the woods while we talk instead of making eye contact, which I understand because I do it too. We can’t let our guard down.

“I need to ask a favor of you, Zara,” he says.

I nod. I’m cool with that.

“I have arranged a meeting of our pixies so that-”

“In the graveyard again?” I interrupt.

“No. I think that was a bit-”

“Emo? Melodramatic?” I suggest.

Tilting his head, he smirks at me and makes eye contact. “As a species we have a weakness for drama. Thank you for reminding me,” he teases. “But no. It is actually in a conference room at a hotel. Many of our pixies are posing as reporters and are at the Holiday Inn. We’ve rented a room and pumped in a feed so that everyone in the kingdom, even those who are not here, can watch.”

That’s smart. But then I think, why?

“I want to tell them all about what happened in Iceland and with Mrs. Nix. I need to reveal my mother’s treachery.” His Adam’s apple moves down in his throat and he rubs a hand through his hair. “It will not be fun.”

It isn’t. We spend an hour in the conference room with its puke pink walls and old coffee smell. The whole time I remember how I ran at the cemetery, and the shame of it burns my cheeks. They’ve made such sacrifices being here, to protect the town, the people, my friends, me. They deserve more. Throughout the meeting, Astley stands at a podium and talks and talks, fielding questions from the two hundred or so pixies sitting at tables. The questions are respectful, and from the way that Amelie glares at anyone who asks anything, I’m sure everyone is afraid she’d rip their head off if they were even the slightest bit rude. Astley explains how his mother is basically trying to assassinate us. He also mentions that we saw Fenrir, the wolf who heralds the Ragnarok, the end of our world.

Finally Becca, a pixie who has chewed gum the entire time, raises her hand and asks, “So, you’ve been trying to find Valhalla to rescue the were who at one point tied you to a tree?”

“Yes,” Astley says.

Amelie paces along the perimeter of the room, feral almost. I try to imagine how hard it must be for her, having killed her sister and now having to see me as Astley’s new queen.

Becca ignores Amelie and continues on. “And he is the boyfriend of the queen?”

Astley nods.

“And the queen has killed others because of this wish? Exploited it?”

“Yes,” Astley says, looking at me. I think we’re both hoping that Becca will get to the point.

“Look,” Becca continues, “I’m cool with trying to save anyone who can help us kick Frank’s ass, but what I’m wondering is, why don’t you just ask the council how to get to Valhalla?” She stares me down, but her eyes aren’t unkind, just tough.

“I have via phone and I am going there to ask personally after the meeting. As of yet they have not responded,” Astley says. He looks around the room to see if there are any more questions.

“Does the queen have anything to say?” Becca asks. She smiles at me. She’s so pretty when she smiles. Her parents are from Hong Kong, Amelie told me. “She has been so quiet.”

The energy in the room changes. I know they’re all remembering how I ran off, how I was weak and scared. That’s not what they need right now. I can tell from the feeling in the room that all of them are nervous, on edge about the treachery and the attacks they’ve been dealing with here.

“This is not about Zara,” Astley says, but then he looks at me and adds, “but if you would like to say something, you most certainly can.”

My knees shake a tiny bit as I stand up and move toward the podium. I adjust the microphone down. It’s beyond awkward up here. Wishing that I’d taken speech or debate or something, I force a slow deep breath through my lungs and out.

“I am honored to be your queen. Every day I become more and more honored by what you all risk just by being here. You know what Frank’s pixies do: they torment, they torture innocent people, they drain their souls, rip their skin, ravage their minds. They do this as pixies. When they do this they ruin who we are. Show the world, show me, show your king, and most importantly show yourselves that you are better than that, that you are not that. Continue to protect the people of this town. Use your power for good. Be proud to be on the side of good. Be proud of your king and yourselves. I know that I am, and I am so thankful for all of you.”

Sitting back down, I start smiling, because I know-without the smallest of doubts-that if my dad-the one who raised me, my stepdad-were here, he’d be really, really proud.