VERITY

The three guys are spread around the house when I wake the next morning. Ewan's still in bed, Heath's in the kitchen, and Joss is in the lounge, bare feet on the table and paperback in hand. I incline my head to read the cover on the way passed but don't recognise the title.

"Morning, Vee." He waves a hand without looking up.

"Hey."

"Are you enjoying your time in my bed?"

Joss still doesn't look at me, but I don't miss his fighting a smile.

"I've had more interesting times in a man's bed," I reply. "Not so much in yours."

His head snaps up from the book, and I arch a brow. He'll soon learn that a more relaxed Vee will mean less silence against his banter. "Well, we can fix that. Just say the word."

I leave him with a smile and a question mark over whether I'm interested. Then walk straight into Heath, who has a weird selection of items on the kitchen table in front of him. One I recognise as the knife he used on the demon the other night.

"Are we headed for a fun day out?" I ask, indicating his jacket slung across the back of the chair.

"We're headed into town to see Portia, our local fae queen."

I blink. "Local fae queen? How many are there?"

"A few. We need to explain ourselves to this one, right, Heath?" Joss walks in and drops the paperback on the table. "You got more holy water for me?"

Heath tosses him a small bottle from the table; one I'd thought was alcohol and been confused why Heath needed to drink on the job.

"Has Xander called?" asks Joss.

Joss shakes his head.

"For fuck's sake. I'm beginning to worry now."

"He can look after himself."

"With water and a knife, I suppose?" I ask.

"Take one." Heath gestures at the table.

"What?"

"A knife, Vee."

I cross my arms. "Really? Your idea of diplomacy is marching into an audience with a queen carrying a knife?"

"Audience?" Joss laughs. "He's right, though. Take one."

I stare down at the selection on the table. The only knives I usually touch are when I'm chopping vegetables. "I might leave the killing to you."

"Just for self-defence, Vee."

* * *

The new estate in the village, close to my town, houses the wealthier end of our population. West Fordham and outlying villages are popular with commuters; people endure long journey times to London in order to afford bigger and better houses than if they chose to live in the city. Few of the town's original residents live in the architecturally designed and perfectly planned estate. Parks intersperse the large two-storey houses, and every detached home boasts immaculate gardens and at least two expensive cars in driveways.

Nobody I know lives here; most are families originally from elsewhere and tend to keep themselves away from the local population.

I thought we'd taken a wrong turn when we pulled into the estate. This isn't where I'd expect a fae queen to reside.

I stare at the large brick residence with Tudor-style windows as Heath parks beside the Range Rover in the driveway. Pink and white roses border the lawn and the windows shine, pathways free from dirt and leaves.

"A queen lives here?"

"Where did you expect her to live?" asks Ewan, opening his door and jumping down from the seat beside me, in the rear of Heath's SUV. "In the middle of the woods? The bottom of your garden?"

Yes. "No."

My car door opens and Heath stands there. "When I said the supernatural live amongst us, I meant literally. Hiding in plain sight, the easiest way to stay disguised."

"Makes sense, I guess."

"I hope she's in a good mood," replies Joss as we head towards the front porch.

"I suspect not," says Heath, "so be respectful."

"Always."

If the fae's suburban house choice was a surprise, the queen herself is a total shock. In my imagination, the fae queen not only lives in a secret palace, glamoured by magic so the human world couldn't see, but also glides around in a silk gown with subjects following and bowing to her every whim.

The woman who answers the door wears black and pink yoga pants with a matching jacket, expensive sneakers, and white blonde hair scraped back into a severe ponytail. Her eye make-up and lipstick accentuate her flawless pale skin as she studies us with a disdainful curve to her mouth.

"Hello, Pony Boys."

Ewan mutters something under his breath.

The woman sweeps a calculating gaze the length of me, then tips her chin. "I'm Portia."

"Hi." I cringe. Hi?

The woman ushers us inside.

"Come."

Of everything bizarre in the situation, the fae's eyes strike me the most. They're the same violet colour as the man Heath killed.

Neatness in this house borders on OCD. By the door, shoes are arranged on a rack in size order, as are the coats, and the colours all complement each other. Mirrors line the hallway, interspersed with studio-quality family photos. The stunning parents, their beautiful children, and obligatory cute baby pictures. Two girls, one a teenager and the other much younger.

We head passed an open doorway, and I catch sight of a teenage girl in the kitchen. She looks up from her phone as we go by. Despite her unusual colouring, the girl's beautiful. White-blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. Her sleeveless My Chemical Romance tee has seen better days, and her black jeans accentuate her long legs and slender figure.

"Sweetheart, please get ready for hockey. We need to leave as soon as I've dealt with business," says Portia.

The teen smiles coyly at one of the guys behind me before pouting at her mother. "But Hunter is coming over this afternoon."

"Really, Elyssia, I've asked you not to invite your friends here without asking me first."

"I didn't think you'd be here," she mutters, and the two glare at each other.

"Tell him you're busy." Portia gestures at Elyssia’s phone. A younger girl's voice calls for her mum from somewhere else inside the house. "And please change your sister's clothes. She's covered in mud from playing in the garden and upstairs refusing to change."

I can safely say a teenage fae eye-roll perfectly imitates a human one.

"This way." Portia opens a door leading towards a basement and switches on the light. I follow the guys down carpeted stairs and step into a large room covered in assorted craftwork. The room contains everything from scrapbooking to embroidery, the walls covered in shelves and boxes; framed pictures created by children on the walls.

School mum fae queen who holds meetings with her supernatural associates amongst glue guns and sequins? This world shifts from freaky to unreal as the days pass.

"Are you the Fifth?" Portia asks, studying me more closely this time.

My jeans and hoodie combination make me feel like a hobo in comparison to Portia, even though she's dressed casually too. I'm not wearing a lick of make-up and my ponytailed hair doesn't match her sleekness.

"I'm Verity."

She nods. "Nice to meet you."

"Uh. Likewise."

She gestures to a nearby small sofa close to tall bookshelves and I sit. The guys remain standing, grouped together around her crafting table.

Portia picks up a large pair of scissors and examines them. "Could you explain to me why he"—she points at Heath with the pointed ends—"killed a fae. Big. Fat. No."

Her smooth voice switches to harsh, the tone of somebody used to obedience. Straight down to business, then.

"Could you explain why a fae attempted to abduct Verity and was in the company of a demon?" retorts Heath.

Joss places a hand on his arm. "Heath made a mistake. He understands he should've apprehended the fae instead, but he feared for Vee's safety."

Portia studies me again and wrinkles her nose. "Verity is a Horseman. She could defend herself."

"She doesn't know how," replies Heath. "Not yet."

"Give the girl credit. Her instincts would kick in." She smiles at me. "You have powers that would make any fae proud."

I snap my head around to the guys. Powers? Isn't my self-defence knives?

"That doesn't alter the fact the blue-haired bastard had a demon choking the life from her," snaps Heath.

"Heath!" hisses Joss.

Portia sets down the scissors and turns her face to me. "Blue hair? Did he give a name?" I shake my head.

Silence falls as Portia carefully rearranges items on the table in front of her, long fingers straightening books and tucking items in drawers. I glance at Joss who shrugs. "I'll look into this. Thank you," says Portia, eventually.

Heath steps forward. "Look into it?"

Portia's violet eyes fix on his. "Yes, and if you'd kindly refrain from murdering my kin, that would help us agree to your requests for our aid."

This isn't the reaction they expected, that's clear, but what was?

"Heath kills a fae, who's attempting to abduct our Fifth, and you'll 'look into it'. What the fuck is going on?" says Ewan in a low voice. "Is this something out of your control?"

I recoil as the woman's eyes flash a sudden brighter violet and an energy builds around her. "I will ensure everything is under my control. Do not interfere again."

"So why summon us here?" asks Heath.

"To warn you some may not be as forgiving as me. I am of the opinion that any of my kin who transgress should be dealt with, and I’m happy to do so myself." She pauses. "Myself. Not you. There are those in my society who don't trust the Horsemen and will see more sinister reasons behind your actions, Heath. They will use this incident as a reason not to cooperate. You made a very stupid move there."

"Stupid? Listen, we help the fae remain hidden and protected, and in return, you agree to keep your people under control. If you can't manage, then the four of us step in to fix the problem." Heath’s muscles stiffen and he makes to step forward towards Portia, but holds himself back.

The building energy in the room shimmers around Portia as her delicate features transform into hard anger. "You need us as much as we need you, boy. Don't forget that small fact."

Joss grips Heath's sleeve. "Heath, calm down. Leave it."

"But if some of you are siding with demons—" Heath's interrupted as his voice chokes into a rasp. I shift on the sofa in alarm as I watch their exchange, and at the fae queen holding a hand out, fingers twisting as she points at his neck.

"Your friend, Death, needs keeping under control," she says, not taking her eyes from him. "Where's War? He can smack some sense into him."

"Xander’s missing," replies Joss.

"Oh? So you can accuse me of not controlling my people, while you have no idea where one of yours is or what he's doing?" She sneers. "How do you know he isn't siding with the Order? We're aware you're associated with a demon connected to them."

"How do you know about that?" shoots back Joss.

"Stupid pony boy, we've followed him for a while, and we watch you carefully too. Shouldn't I be the one not trusting you?"

She steps towards a still speechless Heath and trails long fingers along his cheek and across his lips, her manicured nails catching. "I'm still waiting for your decision on who you choose to seal your unity with us. Instead you side with demons." Her mouth twitches, and she moistens her glossed lips as she moves her face closer to Heath's. "Have you decided yet?"

Is she going to kiss him? My heart thumps. This situation becomes weirder by the moment. School-mum fae and death personified together?

"I'm sure your king will love the idea of a unity," says Joss with a laugh.

She drops her fingers from Heath and approaches Joss instead. He remains impassive as Portia runs fingers through his hair. "You know I'm not in the habit of limiting myself to one consort. Why should a powerful woman?" She arches a perfectly plucked brow at me and gestures at the three men. "Correct?"

Heat builds in my cheeks at her suggestion that I might follow a similar belief, not wanting to admit to myself that the idea appeals.

"Have you met the delightful Xander yet?" she asks me.

"No. Not yet."

"He's my favourite." She pats Joss on the cheek with her fingertips. "Sorry, beautiful."

Ewan crosses his arms as Portia sets her sights on him. “Don’t bother.”

I bite back a laugh as she pouts, then shakes her head at him.

Never in my life have I seen three men totally silenced by one woman. Are they staying diplomatic, or are genuinely stunned by her behaviour? The guys and Portia are familiar with each other, that's clear. But how familiar?

Portia laughs, the sound chiming around the room. "Oh so serious, boys." She turns to me. "Verity, I do hope you're going to keep them in check now you've found them."

"Me?" I indicate myself and look back at the three men who could take on two of me in a fight and win. "I think they make their own minds up."

She holds up her little finger. "You have more power just in here than the guys—and over them."

"Stop this. How do we sort out this demon problem?" rasps Heath, finding his voice.

"I said I will deal with issues within my community. You deal with yours."

The door handle rattles. "Mummy!"

Portia drops her invisible grip on Heath, who massages his throat and draws in a breath. She shoos the guys out of the way and pulls open the door. "Yes, sweetie?"

A girl, maybe five years old, white blonde hair to match the others and the palest blue eyes I've seen looks up. "Elyssia's being mean to me! She won't let me wear my princess costume!" The girl’s dressed in a thin white vest, which reaches half way down her knees.

"Mummy's busy right now, Kailey. Tell Elyssia you can wear what you want." Portia glances at the clock on the wall. "I won't be long."

"And I can't find my princess shoes!"

"Have you looked under your bed?"

"No."

I stare at the ordinary, family conversation taking place in front of me. Are her children fae too?

"This one's half-human," whispers Joss as the pair's conversation continues.

"Can you actually read my mind?" I hiss.

"No, but almost. The look on your face asks the question."

"Elyssia says she wants to be with her boyfriend instead. He just arrived to see her. She told him you're a bitch and won't let—"

I almost choke at the word coming from the little girl's mouth. Portia's lips pull tight, and she lifts Kailey out of the doorway. The girl's eyes fill with tears as her mum sets her on the ground.

"Whoa," mutters Ewan. "Who knew fae had teenage girl problems too?"

Joss's eyes narrow as he watches the door. "No. This is different."

"What's wrong?" asks Heath.

"Follow her." Joss rushes from the room, and I freeze as a scream from upstairs echoes through the house.

Heath's out the door behind Joss in seconds, Ewan closes and stands in front, ear to the door and holding the handle.

A woman’s scream chills my blood, and I grab Kailey’s arm as she cries out and attempts to pass Ewan. Ewan rests against the door, knuckles whitening as he holds the handle. His attempt to pull on a calm expression doesn't fool me.

"Is everything okay?" I whisper.

He glances at the girl, then to me. "Well, there's no point in me lying to you, is there?"

No.

"I want, Mummy!" protests Kailey.

"Verity will stay here with you, I'll find out what's happening. Everything will be okay." Ewan’s awkwardness around kids shines through, as does his doubt.

"But I want Mummy!" she repeats in a louder voice.

"Can you wait here with her?" asks Ewan. "I'll be back in a few."

"But—" There's no point continuing the sentence as Ewan's through the door in seconds.

All three guys responding to a screaming queen? I'm not familiar with their tactics but this does not bode well. I attempt to calm my nerves and turn to Kailey.

"Should we sit down? Tell me about your favourite princess." I guide her to the sofa. I half-listen as she regales me with tales of Disney princesses. I'm partly amused; does Kailey know she's a real princess? Is she? God, I don't know.

Another scream sounds above. The last one betrayed fear. This one, pain.

The world shifts sideways again.