Crown of Moonlight (Court of Midnight and Deception Book 2) Read online

  Crown of Moonlight

  Court of Midnight and Deception Book 2

  K. M. Shea

  CROWN OF MOONLIGHT

  Copyright © 2020 by K. M. Shea

  Cover Art by Covers by Christian

  Edited by Deborah Grace White

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any number whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of quotations embodied in articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historic events is entirely coincidental.

  www.kmshea.com

  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

  Afterword

  Leila’s adventure continues in…

  Other books by K. M. Shea

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Leila

  I squinted at the crumbling Night Court Castle and wondered if all of Skye’s antacids were finally starting to affect her mentally.

  It was dark—it was always dark in the Night Realm—but at least for now the moon was out, which shed just enough light to illuminate the disintegrating castle walls, the broken windows, and all the weeds that jutted out of the massive stone patio we stood on.

  “Skye,” I said. “There’s no way we can use this place for my crowning banquet. We’d need a year to get it ready, and I’m not willing to spend the money to get it fixed when the Night Court’s finances are already terrible.”

  Skye glanced down at the screen of her tablet, which cast a blue light on her face and her brown hair that made her look like a movie star. Her hair was cut in a bob that went just past her chin and curled in the most amazing, thick, frizz-free curls I’d ever seen on a living being. “Yes, I figured as much.”

  I pushed my own hair—long and dark black—over my shoulder and eyed my steward. “Why, then, did you insist on dragging me here?”

  “Because I wished to show you the preserved weapons of the first few Night Court monarchs, and I knew if I said so you’d refuse to come,” my steward said—proving she could scheme like the best of her kinsmen, even if she was half fae/half human, like me.

  “Skye,” I groaned. “I need to talk to the Court accountants to see how much of the deficit I’ve covered since I’ve sold the Chicago condo and the cabin in northern Wisconsin. I also have to mediate a talk between the head representative of the mermaids and the head representative of the naiads because they’ve gotten in an argument about the mansion’s lake—and Indigo said she’d make a cake for that occasion!”

  I mournfully stared at the star spattered sky, even though it was barely past ten in the morning. “The point is, there’s a ton of stuff that’s way more important than being dragged before the weapons of some long dead rulers!”

  “It’s vital that you understand the history of your Court.” Skye was all serenity and grace as she gave me a slight smile that accented the beauty of her heart-shaped face. “It will further your understanding of current Court politics.”

  I glumly stared at the tiny, cat-sized griffins that were half pigeon half raccoon and roosting on the roofline. “But I don’t want to learn about the original Night King who lived and died centuries ago. Particularly not when he’s the reason why I’m stuck in this mess, because of those stupid laws and agreements he made when he established the North American Night Court!”

  Skye made a choking noise, and I heard the familiar rattle of her mint tray—which was stuffed with antacids.

  As I waited for my steward to collect herself, I looked from the pigeon-raccooon-griffins—I needed to come up with a shorter name for them—to Kevin and Whiskers who were lounging by my feet.

  Kevin—a shade—stood about waist high and was wolfish in shape…if wolves had glowing crimson eyes and looked like they were wrapped in shadows that made his shape almost flicker.

  Whiskers—a gloom—flicked his tail before he twisted and licked his back, smoothing out his black fur which was swirled with tiny red hairs. He was a cat, but like all the glooms that hung out with me, he panted, and was so skinny he looked diseased.

  I eyed his patchy fur, then Kevin’s spine—visible even through the haze of his fur—with displeasure.

  Dusk and Dawn have been diligently feeding all the glooms, shades, and night mares a high fat, nutritional diet. Why haven’t they put on any weight?

  I petted Kevin, smiling even though his fur felt greasy and thin. The shade wagged his tail and leaned into me, almost knocking me over in his exuberance.

  Indigo shuffled across the far end of the patio, cradling a magic-made orb of light that acted like a lantern. “My Sovereign,” she drawled. “I’m afraid you might have broken Skye with that response.” She strolled up to me, hesitating when she came face to face with Whiskers before offering her hand to the feline—who plopped his chin in her palm for scratching.

  Indigo bravely scratched, even though she was barely taller than Kevin, and the glooms and shades had a bit of a wild reputation among our Court.

  “Sorry, Skye, I don’t regret it,” I said. “I’ve had enough time to think about it, and I’ve concluded every problem—my getting picked and forced to become the Night Queen, the fact that I can’t abdicate, and getting married to a freakin’ assassin—is all the original king’s fault, because he made all those stupid laws when he ruled. The creep.”

  “Hey, you only have yourself to blame for getting hitched to an assassin,” Indigo said. “Skye went through all the half decent candidates with you, but you had to go for the bad boy.”

  “Because he doesn’t have any political connections,” I protested.

  Skye had regained some of her spirit—or at least she stopped crunching antacids. “The first king made those laws as a way to limit the power of the Night Court because he saw—in his immense wisdom—that as the sole Night Court in North America, it would have too much power.”

  “And because the Night Court and Day Court are inescapably linked given that they rule day and night together, the limitations on the Night Court would force limitations on the Day Court even if their monarchs did nothing,” I recited. “I know, I know—you’ve spent a lot of time tutoring me on history, and because I’m highly motivated to move on to new subjects I’m not going to forget it all.”

  “Don’t worry, Skye,” Indigo assured her. “It’s not that she doesn’t listen to your lessons—our queen is too diligent for that. It’s merely that she’s a heretic.”

  Skye looked contemplatively at the mint tin in her hand, the golden skin of her forehead puckered with thin wrinkles.

  I vaguely noted that even when in distress, Skye still looked gorgeous and graceful—and far more queen-like than me.

  Sure, my fae blood made me pretty enough for a human. It was also responsible for the unusual purple-ish-blue
shade of my eyes, and I’d inherited my height from my fae biological father. But while I was prone to flashing my emotions across my face, Skye was far more controlled and better at hiding her expressions. Or she usually was, unless she was getting out her antacids because of something I did or said.

  But that might have had something to do with our upbringing.

  Skye grew up among the fae, living with her fae mother’s family. I lived with my human mom and dad—or step-dad, really, but he practically raised me. To me he would always be Dad.

  Fae are pretty vicious supernaturals. They play all sorts of games—mental and political. And even though they can use magic and have certain limitations that you think would improve their personalities—like the inability to lie—they’re all about power. Both obtaining and keeping it.

  “You can’t tease Skye like that,” I told Indigo. “You’ll give her ulcers.”

  Indigo kept scratching Whiskers’ chin, eliciting a deep purr from him. “I wasn’t teasing.”

  I made a noise of dissatisfaction. “I see how it is around here. There’s no respect!”

  “Probably because you’re the most disrespectful person I know,” Indigo said.

  A brownie, Indigo was short and bird-like with her thin legs and arms. Her hair was a wild mess of the most glorious russet red color I’d seen—though today she wore it shoved up in a ponytail.

  She wrinkled her slightly up-turned nose as Whiskers rubbed his head on her shoulder. “Stop it,” she fussed. “You’re going to get black hair all over this shirt.”

  Today’s t-shirt was bright white and spattered with several superhero insignias. Indigo was something of a closet nerd. She’d applied for her role as my companion—which was basically a fancy title the fae used for personal assistant—because she wanted the hefty salary to buy more movie, book, and TV show merch.

  “We may as well get this over with…” I trailed off and curiously peered around the expansive, half-dead gardens when I heard heavy footfalls.

  Kevin, his shoulder pushed against my hips, lifted his head and scented the air. He didn’t seem worried, and neither did Whiskers—who was half draped over Indigo by now—so I didn’t think whatever was approaching me was bad.

  But I didn’t expect the creature that trundled around a corner of the castle and marched straight toward us.

  Even though I’d never seen one before, I knew what it was on sight because of all its heads. It was a hydra.

  With four wedge shaped heads sitting on four arched necks and a thick, sturdy body, the hydra was a mixture of a flightless dragon and a water serpent.

  This one was a little bigger than my truck. Its plated scales were a dark blue mottled with watery gray—I had a feeling it could effortlessly blend in with water or rock, its primary territories.

  Indigo stiffened and dug her hands into Whiskers’ fur, and Skye took a step closer to me. “Queen Leila,” she whispered.

  I slipped my glass prism—the royal magical artifact I used to channel magic—out of the pocket of my blue jeans, but I smiled as the creature approached.

  “Hey there, cutie,” I greeted.

  Indigo made a high-pitched squeak, like a balloon losing air.

  The hydra stopped just short of me, tilting its four heads as it studied me with yellow eyes.

  I stepped forward, offering my hand. “How are you?”

  No, I’m not an idiot. I know wild animals are dangerous. But fae have natural magic that effortlessly oozes out of them. Typically it’s something that makes them extra beautiful or graceful, but I was lucky enough to get something useful—I have natural magic that makes animals like me, and any creature I work with long enough gets smarter.

  Plus, as Night Queen, I had dominion over the Night Court and Realm. While Skye reminded me frequently that my subjects’ inability to kill me—locked in by the magic that made the foundation of the Court—didn’t extend to the creatures of the Night Realm, I was pretty sure it was what had attracted the glooms and shades to me—and now possibly a hydra.

  I wasn’t too surprised when one of the hydra heads inched forward enough to sniff my hand, and then the creature thumped its massive tail on the ground like a happy dog.

  A second head invaded my space, resting its large chin on my hand, before a third head slammed into it, knocking it out of the way, making room for the fourth head to stretch out and lick my hair.

  “I’m glad you approve,” I said.

  The soft sensation of my natural magic flowed around me as I patted large, stone-like scales.

  All four of the hydra heads settled down to sniff me, which—not gonna lie—was pretty intimidating. Having four serpent heads—accented with glittering teeth that I could see because the fangs poked past the hydra’s lips—sniffing my shoulders, waist, and legs was enough to make my belly flop around in my gut.

  I wasn’t sad when all but one of the heads retreated. I fondly patted the last head. “Do you need something?”

  The hydra’s heads looked down at Whiskers and Kevin. Whiskers screeched at it—which sounded like a goblin getting run over by a golf cart—then purred deep in his chest.

  The hydra’s stretched out head gently nudged my cheek, then as fast as it arrived, it marched off, heading into the gardens.

  I dusted my hands off on my thighs. “Do creatures just meander around the castle? Or was that a tame hydra?”

  “There is no such thing as a tame hydra,” Skye said. “And no. The creatures of the Night Realm typically do not wander around the castle grounds. They have been wild for decades, and most of them are extremely dangerous.”

  Oh. Well. Would have been nice to know that before I greeted it. But I suppose everyone freaks out about the night mares all the time, and they’re as sweet as ponies. Maybe the hydra just offends the fae’s obsession with beauty and power?

  “It’s fine,” I said.

  “You most often say ‘it’s fine’ when it, in fact, is not fine,” Skye said.

  “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure it was just greeting me. I don’t think it’s going to go on a murder spree. It was actually a lot smaller than I thought it would be.”

  “That was a juvenile,” Skye said.

  “A what?”

  “It’s not full grown.” Indigo used her artifact—a ring slipped on her thumb—to create a second orb of light—one for each hand. “Although it’s still dangerous—especially because that was the one Queen Nyte used an enslavement spell on and forced to fight when she faced off with the Drake Family vampires and the House Medeis wizards. Wasn’t it, Skye?”

  “I believe so.” Skye tapped her tablet screen. “There are only a few hydra that technically belong to the Night Court. Most of them live in the Night Realm and are rarely seen.”

  “Wow, poor thing. I should have seen if it wanted to stay in the stables with the night mares,” I said.

  “Hydra prefer a landscape with access to large bodies of water,” Skye informed me.

  “Oh. Then it would have had to stay down by the mansion’s lake, and I’m guessing the mermaids and naiads wouldn’t have liked that,” I said.

  “A possibly dangerous creature that will continue to grow for most of its life? Yes, they would not like that,” Skye confirmed.

  I absently patted Kevin’s head. “It seemed like it accomplished whatever it was that it wanted. Shall we get going?”

  Indigo pushed her cat eye glasses farther up her nose. “You’re willingly going to see the first king’s artifacts?”

  “The sooner I get it over with the sooner I get back to work—and I really need to meet with the chef. I’m a bit concerned we won’t have enough food for the party-banquet-thing,” I said.

  Skye extended her arm and pointed to the shabby castle before she led the way up to it. “I doubt it will be a problem,” she said. “You already have enough food to cover all the guests on the list I made for you.”

  “Yes, but I invited some other people, too,” I reminded her. “And they RSVP-ed wi
th me.”

  “Perhaps.” Skye tried to yank open a wooden door, but it didn’t move. “However, it saddens me to say this, Queen Leila, but I highly doubt any of the other Court monarchs will come, even though it’s tradition and you sent them invitations.”

  Although I’d been officially crowned—and married because of those annoying laws from that stinking first king—almost two weeks ago, my official first royal banquet was in three days.

  Technically I’d been made queen and bound to the Court months ago—the Night Court monarch was picked out by magical horses called night mares. Usually they just found the next monarch, but six of the night mares had decided they liked me enough to use their magic on me, inescapably binding me to the Court and making me queen long before I usually would have been crowned.

  It was complicated.

  The important thing was the other Courts wouldn’t recognize me until I was officially crowned—and to be officially crowned I had to be married, hence my unusual ceremony with my assassin-husband. On the bright side, said assassin-husband seemed to be tolerating my presence well enough these days that I didn’t think he was going to kill me in my sleep—and now I was crowned.

  But, as I said earlier, fae were all about power plays.

  I’d learned since being made queen that, to the fae, everything was a game for power.

  They would cheat, kill, and betray one another to obtain more power—both in their own Court, and among the others.

  I’d fought to subdue my Court enough that I could reasonably say they’d follow me and wouldn’t betray me—especially not when my dear husband, Lord Rigel, the famed assassin known as the Wraith, would inherit the throne if I died. But my power place among the other Courts?