Melissa Marr: Desert Tales: A Wicked Lovely Companion Novel

“Yeah, that part.” Rika couldn’t help it; she felt better. Keenan was banned from the desert; Jayce was accepting of her obligations; and Sionnach was happy and at her side.

“You talk to her, and then we’ll take her before the rest.” He scurried over a rocky outcropping, not quite as quickly as he usually would.

“I shouldn’t look forward to this,” Rika said quietly.

Sionnach paused mid-step and leaped down in front of her with a slight wince. “Princess, the only reason you haven’t been Alpha around here is stubbornness. You are what you are.”

“Looking forward to a fight is—”

“Perfectly normal. You’re a solitary faery. A strong one. . . .” He pulled back a fist as if to strike her. “And you’ve spoken your authority into reality.”

He swung. Without pause, she stopped him, capturing and holding his fist in her hand.

“This is your territory, and there’s a threat in it.” He punched upward with the other hand.

She blocked him again.

Gently, he said, “Just like you defend against me without thought, you will defend them.”

“Maili doesn’t get that about being Alpha, does she?” Rika glanced at Sionnach. In their mock-fight, his jacket had gaped open. She stared at the dried blood on his shirt and at the fresh blood seeping around it like a flower blossoming. “Shy, you’re—”

“Fine.” He waved her concern away.

“Maili wouldn’t understand, not like we do. We have a duty to them, and with you beside me, we can succeed.” He nodded at faeries who had crept out to watch them and pulled his jacket closed again casually. Then, in a low voice he added, “But I think that’s what you want to explain to her.”

Rika shook her head and chastised, “It is, but you need to stop hiding things from me.”

“I am trying.” Sionnach linked his arm with hers. “Come now, princess. Run with me?”

“Where?”

“Let me lead you there, and you can handle the fight.”

She nodded, and they raced toward a crevice in two rock walls. Rika knew that he held on to her in part because he was still healing from being stabbed, and that only served to increase her anger at Maili.

Sionnach flashed Rika a smile. “Shall we knock?”

“No.” She stepped in front of him and disappeared into the opening.

“ There’s my princess,” he said as he followed her into what appeared to be a roofless cavern.

Inside were four faeries, including Maili. Rika wasn’t sure how to start. Part of her wanted to simply launch herself at Maili, beat her for her selfishness and the pain she’d caused as a result of it. The rest of her knew that wasn’t the answer.

Sionnach whistled, and when the faeries looked his way, he raised a finger and shook it at them like he was scolding a child. “Stay out of it, or share Maili’s sentence.” Then he gestured Rika toward Maili. “She’s all yours, Rika.”

Maili tilted her chin up in a defiant posture. “I don’t need help fighting her.”

“Pretty to think so,” Sionnach muttered. He knew that Rika could handle the disobedient faery even if she wasn’t angry, and right now, she was still holding on to both anger and hurt over the situation Maili had caused. The fight could only go one way.

The other three faeries stepped back, and Sionnach nodded at them approvingly before clambering up the side of a rock wall and crouching on a ledge. The solitaries were a fickle lot sometimes. They saw the way the winds shifted, and their allegiance shifted with them. It was a large part of why being an Alpha was difficult.

Maili looked at Sionnach appraisingly.

“It would be best if you left the desert,” Rika told her, drawing her attention away from Sionnach. “We’re willing to let you go if you leave now.”

Maili laughed.

“Go.” Rika advanced slowly toward Maili.

“When Keenan comes here, you won’t be so—”

“He won’t be coming here.” Rika spread her feet to give herself better balance. She watched Maili carefully as she added, “Third chance, Maili. Your Alphas direct you to leave.”

With a yell, Maili launched herself at Rika. “You are not my Alpha. Neither of you are.”

For several moments, Rika and Maili exchanged blows. Rika’s punches landed more often than not, but Maili was quick on her feet. Rika was out of practice, but her blows were more forceful than most faeries’ strikes. The fight wasn’t truly well matched; Rika was steadily pummeling Maili, and when the other faery realized that, she grabbed Rika by the throat.

“Bad idea,” Sionnach muttered.

Rika took Maili’s legs out from under her. The rebellious faery stumbled and—needing her arms to keep her balance—released Rika’s throat.

Promptly, Rika delivered a punch to the stomach.

Maili fell to the ground, legs curled to the side. She attempted to get up, and Rika kicked her before glancing up at Sionnach and nodding.

He looked at the faeries who had been there with Maili. “Spread the word that there will be an assembly today.”

As the faeries were departing, Rika yanked Maili to her feet and told her, “This wasn’t what I wanted. I asked you to leave before this had to happen.”

Sionnach hopped down and applauded. He moved slowly, but he’d often moved at that pace, a heightened cautiousness that faeries often saw as his deliberateness. In that moment, Rika wondered how often it had simply been a ploy to hide injuries he’d sustained.

“Step two,” Rika said quietly.

Sionnach smiled and echoed, “Step two.”

They escorted Maili to a mining shack on the hill in the same abandoned mining town that Sionnach often called home. After they trussed her up, they left Maili inside the solitary mine cart that was stored in the shack, and closed the door. Then, they waited for the faeries to arrive for their first assembly with their new co-Alphas.

Once the crowd had begun to gather, Sionnach climbed gracefully to the top of a dilapidated porch roof and balanced along the fractured railing as if he were oblivious to all the faeries—except Rika. He looked only at her as the faeries started coming closer. Then, he held out one hand to her.

She walked closer to the building and looked up at him as he stood motionless on the battered wooden railing. “What are you doing?”

He crouched down and held out a second hand. “Helping you up.”

With far less grace than he had, she clambered up to stand beside him and took his hand in hers.

“Showmanship,” he whispered.

Once she was steady, he released her hand and then hopped up to a higher roof, deftly avoiding a gaping hole that looked like a mess of splinters and glass. Then, he looked back at her.

She didn’t hesitate as she reached both hands up this time, and with a relieved smile, he lifted her to stand beside him.

Letting go of one hand, they took another step—together—to stand on the roof.

On the ground behind them, faeries had assembled in silence.

“Rika will be beside me keeping order here,” Sionnach said by way of introduction. “As co-Alphas we will be happy to keep you safe, at cost to ourselves.”

“We will not forgive betrayals easily,” Rika glanced at Sionnach. “We would rather not have to have any betrayals, but if you do . . .”

She released Sionnach’s hand, and he hopped down with far more ease than they had ascended, looking animal-graceful, and ambled up the hill to the shack. It was once part of the aboveground mine structure, so there were tracks that began near the door. Sionnach pulled the mine cart out and shoved it onto the tracks. Then, he proceeded to push it down the hill and into the dusty street.

The assembled faeries looked alternately amused and curious, and Rika suspected that they were quite aware of which faery was being pushed into the crowd.