Americana Fairy Tale (41 page)

He laughed under his breath as he rocked in the bedside chair. He reached out to stroke through Corentin’s short hair. “There I go…,” Taylor murmured. “Falling for the crippled cricket.”

Corentin’s brow twitched, and Taylor knew it was time. Any minute now, Corentin would wake and be scared.

Taylor nodded to Ringo, who stood vigil from the nightstand. “First blue tab,” Taylor said softly.

Ringo flicked his fingers, and the massive journal opened, flopping over to the first chapter in question. Taylor took his own letter and carefully slipped it between the pages. He drew his hand away, worried it would make him sick again.

“Mmm…,” Corentin groaned and slowly opened his eyes. “Where am…?”

Taylor smiled and cooed softly. “Hey, sweetheart, welcome back.” He stroked Corentin’s cheek.

“Back?” Corentin asked, clearly still groggy. He shifted in the bed, and the restraints squeaked against the bedframe. Taylor saw it happening in a matter of seconds. Corentin panicked and jerked for freedom. “What have you
done to me
?” Corentin snarled his rage.

“Now, Ringo.
Now
!” Taylor yelled.

Ringo snapped his fingers, and with the use of his magic, Corentin’s right hand slapped to the open pages of his waiting journal. Corentin froze for several moments midthrash and then relaxed against the mattress.

His hand stayed on the book as he remained still. His fingers ran over the text blindly as the glimmer of green sparked around his eyes. As if guided by its own mind, his hand flipped the pages and continued coasting over the writing. Taylor carefully undid Corentin’s other restraints. Corentin seemed to take the cue of release and shifted in the bed to hold the monstrous book in his lap. His fingertips slid over the pages as the memories recrystallized in his brain.

Taylor waited, watching Corentin from the bedside chair.

Ringo kept his place on the nightstand. He pressed his fingertips together. “Do you think it’ll work?” he whispered.

Taylor folded his hands and squeezed tight, hoping some almighty force out there was listening.

Corentin came to the page with Taylor’s letter. Taylor held his breath. Corentin’s finger came to a halt at the edge of the paper as if it had slammed into a concrete wall. Taylor slapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head. He couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t going to work. A cry came up Taylor’s throat just as he tried to swallow it down.

Corentin frowned, and his finger tripped onto the paper as if it were a body falling off a building. Corentin flattened his hand to Taylor’s letter, and a burst of pink sparks erupted from his fingertips.

Taylor had burned the letter into his memory as now it seared into Corentin’s. Taylor hadn’t known what to write at the time, but he wrote what was in his heart all along.

Corentin’s mouth fell open, unmoving, as the words on the letter poured out in Taylor’s voice.

“
Dearest Corentin
.”

Taylor sat back, listening to the whispering echo of his own voice. Corentin stared vacantly, rendered blind by the magic, his mouth wide and broadcasting like a speaker from another world.

“
I am the man sitting next to you, watching you read this. My name is Princess Taylor Hatfield. We are on an incredibly complicated journey on a road that will never end.

I don’t want it to end because I’m with you.

I know you’re scared, you’re lost, but everything will be okay because we still have each other.

This is your first breadcrumb of many breadcrumbs to lead you home out of the dark forest.

Come home.

I love you.
”

Corentin’s gaze faded into lucidity, and the winks of light surrounding his eyes disbursed into nothing. They slithered away like extinguishing fireworks. Taylor straightened, his lips drawn into a pensive line. Corentin turned to him with a smile.

There was a moment of confusion on Corentin’s face, but it wasn’t of fear—it was of curiosity. He reached out to run his fingers over Taylor’s cheek. Taylor sat still as Corentin explored his face, his hair, and then pulled away. Taylor took his hand before Corentin could get out of reach. “You have pink eyes…,” Corentin said with a smile.

Taylor smiled and then smeared a tear away. “Weird, huh?”

Corentin tilted his head. “They’re pretty. We need to take your picture and put it in the journal,” he said and then pulled Taylor from the chair into the bed.

It was Taylor’s turn to be confused, as this was going a lot better than expected. He lay atop Corentin and listened to the beat of his heart.

“Every day,” Corentin said after a long silence between them.

Taylor lifted his head from Corentin’s chest and watched his contented face. “You want to take my picture every day?”

Corentin nodded. “I need proof you didn’t just wander into my life at random.”

Ringo snorted a laugh from the nightstand. “He kinda did.”

Taylor shifted closer to be able to kiss Corentin’s jaw. “But I’m not going anywhere,” he said, then planted a kiss, followed by another. “You are taking this a lot better than I thought you would.”

Corentin encircled Taylor’s waist and squeezed him close. “Admittedly, I’m a little foggy on all the details. But you seem nice,” Corentin said with a cheeky grin.

“
Nice
?” Taylor asked in contempt. “Just nice? I’ll have you know, huntsman,
you
savaged a virginal princess last night.” Taylor licked his bottom lip and whispered in Corentin’s ear, “And your cum was so hot and salty going down my throat.”

Instead of embarrassment, a slow ear-to-ear jackal grin cracked across Corentin’s face. “I think you’re going to have to remind me of that later,” Corentin muttered.

Taylor blushed as the excitement prickled at his skin. He leaned into Corentin’s ear again. “I like it when you cum on my face and I have to lick it all back up,” he said in a breathy whisper.

Corentin groaned, and his grip on Taylor tightened. “Oh yeah, you’re going to have to show me that too.”

Ringo fluttered over the two of them with his hands on his hips. “If you are talking about sex stuff, can you at least wait until I’m
out
of the room this time?” Ringo said and grumbled.

Corentin arched a brow at Taylor and Taylor nodded. “He apparently was in the bathroom the whole time.”

“The
whole
time,” Ringo said and tossed his arms out in a wide arc.

“Really?” Corentin sat up and smiled at Ringo. “What was it like?”

“OhmyStoryteller,” Ringo said and drifted back in horror. “Dude. I’d just prefer to erase the night my princess lost his virginity from my memory—wait.” Ringo clapped his hands over his mouth. “Sorry. Just came out.”

Taylor sat up and then playfully bumped Corentin with his shoulder. “We kinda scarred him for life.”

There was a knock at the door, and Taylor shifted from the bed. He stared cautiously at the door.

“I ordered room service,” Ringo said over Taylor’s shoulder. “Go on. It’s cool.”

Taylor trusted Ringo, even though after everything, they still had to be on guard. Ringo may have been confident, but after seeing Atticus in the forest last night, anything was possible.

“Do me a favor and conjure up some new clothes for us too,” Taylor said over his shoulder as he headed to the door. “There is no way I’m going to wear that Boymom shirt again.”

“Gotcha, boss,” Ringo said, snapping his fingers.

As Taylor moved across the room, trails of light crawled over him, dissolving his bathrobe and leaving behind new fabric and newly made garments. In one step, Taylor’s bare foot hit the floor again while protected in a combat boot. Frayed jeans shimmered into being over his legs, and then a black cotton T-shirt wove together, blooming with the grungy graphic of a gold princess tiara on his chest. A beaded hematite bracelet wrapped around one wrist, and then Taylor’s hair blew back and plaited itself into a French braid.

The knock came again, and Taylor turned to look back at Corentin. He stood next to the bed, and Ringo had returned Corentin’s Redwing work boots and then a new pair of fashionably broken-in Levi’s. Taylor swallowed when Corentin rolled up the sleeves of his red plaid flannel over his white tee and the trunk of Corentin’s oak tree tattoo was prominently displayed on the bare skin of his left arm.

Ringo gestured to Corentin like Vanna White revealing a
Wheel of Fortune
puzzle. “Good, yes?” he asked Taylor.

He nodded slowly, but it was Corentin who spoke up between them. “You’re an artist?”

Taylor understood he was referring to his clothes. “Stage actor,” he said in a low mumble, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I can hear you guys chittering in there.” A young woman’s voice carried from beyond the door.

The trio snapped their attention to the door and nodded in unison. “Phillipa,” they said to each other. Corentin pressed his lips together in a pensive line.

Taylor pulled the door open, and Phillipa wasted no time sweeping into the room. She held a large leather satchel tight under one arm.

“Took you guys long enough, Mother Storyteller Almighty,” she said and stood between them. She arched a brow and looked from one to the other. She raised a finger. “What’s different?” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Fuck, guys. Do you not know I can smell pheromones?” She coughed and swatted Corentin aside, then shoved open the window and took a gagging breath. “Smells like a whorehouse in here.”

“You remember her, right?” Taylor asked Corentin.

Corentin nodded. “She’s one I don’t forget.”

When Corentin didn’t say anything else, Taylor let it go. He turned his attention to Phillipa. “Corentin’s curse kicked in again. So he’s… fresh out of the box?” He shrugged. “I guess that’s the term for it.”

Phillipa shook her head. “You didn’t break his curse?”

“Apparently not,” Taylor said with a frown. “I think I saved him from dying.” He scratched at his cheek and then turned to Corentin. “You’re not dying anymore, right?”

Phillipa blinked. “You were dying?”

“That’s a story for another time. And to answer Taylor’s question… I don’t feel like I’m dying.” Corentin held up his hands.

“You could feel yourself dying?” She butted in again.

Corentin patted his chest, appearing to check himself over. “Well, I definitely feel different. I guess that’s a good sign.”

She crossed her arms and rested her rear on the windowsill. “That is not a credible diagnosis, just so you know.”

Ringo smacked his forehead. “Kids.” All eyes settled on him. “The power of Taylor’s love for Corentin may have saved his life—pending Phillipa’s notarized medical proof—but only princes and princesses can break each other’s curses,” Ringo said to Taylor.

Taylor frowned and pointed an accusing finger. “You are
so
making this up as you go, aren’t you?”

Ringo didn’t answer Taylor but then pointed at Phillipa. “You owe us something,” he said in a firm tone.

“And I have her.” Phillipa brightened and presented her travel satchel. She lifted the flap of the leather bag, and Honeysuckle burst forth into the room.

Honeysuckle zipped in maddening circles and spit babbling curses as she flew. Corentin dodged her as she repeatedly tried to dive-bomb him. “I am never,
ever
, traveling in such shoddy accommodations again,” Honeysuckle said with puffed-up indignation.

Taylor arched a brow and gave Corentin a smirk. Corentin shrugged.

Ringo darted to catch Honeysuckle by her shoulders and stop her frantic flitter. “Honeybee. Honeybee!” he said and shook her shoulders.

Honeysuckle blinked her wintergreen eyes and came back to the present. “Ringo?” she asked, and then recognition came a moment later. She crushed Ringo to her. “Oh, oh, Ringo! I’m so glad you’re alive.” She pushed Ringo away from her but kept a grip on his shoulders. “You wouldn’t believe it. Atticus has forsaken me and is in cahoots with Idi now. It’s awful, Ringo. Simply awful.” She pulled Ringo to her again. “Oh, my precious Ringo….” She stroked his fluffy gray-blond hair. She blinked and pushed him away again. “You have had a shower, correct?”

Ringo snorted. “Only you,” he said and then leaned in to nuzzle noses with her. Honeysuckle squealed in delight.

Corentin stepped between the two cuddling pixies. “Which is why we’re taking Atticus and Idi out.” Taylor watched Corentin, and there was a distinct hardness to Corentin’s gaze. “That’s still the plan, right?”

“I think that’s the best we have right now,” Taylor said and averted his gaze.

Honeysuckle zipped to Taylor and hovered inches from his face. “What do you mean? Kill Atticus?” Her tone wasn’t upset or accusing.

Uncertainty and sadness shifted into a quiet anger. Taylor narrowed his eyes at Honeysuckle. “Well, you knew, right? Snow White and Idi are true loves through the centuries?”

Her wings drooped, and she sank like a deflating balloon.

Taylor held up a hand and addressed the entire room. “They just move their kin around a chessboard to suit their whims. Snow White let the princesses believe they were fighting for the greater good while they died willingly in her name. Idi exploited the witches to do the same. You knew the whole time, right?” He turned his attention to Honeysuckle again. He had the good sense to scoop her up in his palms before she sank to the floor.

Honeysuckle sat on Taylor’s hands and wrung her own. “I didn’t think it would come to this….”

Corentin stooped over the bed and then scooped up his journal. He took Taylor’s first love letter breadcrumb and slipped it into a more prominent place between the pages. He wrestled the book shut and then secured it with the bungee cord that Ringo had hung on the headboard. “You knew, didn’t you?” he asked Honeysuckle.

Taylor turned to Corentin, watching him, surprised he’d defend Taylor willingly.

Honeysuckle nodded, her expression riddled with remorse. “I couldn’t protect him. I could never protect him. I watched him grow up, knowing there was nothing I could do,” she said in a croak. She smiled at Ringo. “You did such a good job with Taylor.”