Marvels and Misfits Read online

  Marvels

  &

  Misfits

  A Trixie Towers Novel

  By

  Scarlet Dawn

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

  MARVELS & MISFITS

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright 2019 © Scarlett Dawn

  Cover- Manuela Serra Book Cover Design

  Editing - Rmj Editing And Manuscript Service

  Format- Down Write Nuts Book Service

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  Death this way comes to souls who break Fae law. So it is written. So carved in blood. Mighty are the Fae who watch us all.

  I’m screwed. Royally screwed. Of all the ways to mess up,

  I picked a real gem this time—of the hot shifter sort.

  Especially because I’m the crowned elven princess.

  A forbidden soul mating with the cruel King Athon was not why I attended the royal summit of magical races. Our kinds do not mix, as is written in death-blood. And I’ll be damned before I let some arrogant alpha tell me what to do, and for once I’m not talking about my father.

  Now, I’m on the quest of a lifetime.

  My crew of accomplices—sworn enemies. Including King Athon and my father. Our mission—retrieve ancient artifacts lost forever. Good luck there.

  And if we fail?

  No worries. The giants will crush the world.

  Between all the secrets and lies, my name is Trixie Towers; and that’s the only truth that won’t get me dead.

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  About the Author

  Death this way comes to souls who break Fae law. So it is written. So carved in blood. Mighty are the Fae who watch us all.

  Dedication

  To my grandmother,

  I miss you so much.

  Love forever,

  S.D.

  PROLOGUE

  Confession of a princess:

  As much as it pains me to admit, and bless the Fae above and below, but it does truly annoy me to concede this: Father was right. My bravery deserted me in the face of injustice.

  I am ashamed of my first instinct—to hide.

  I vow never to feel this way again.

  I will be stronger. I promise myself this.

  “Trixie! Quit setting your Fae-gifted pegasus on fire!” Grandmother Isabella barked. Her silver shoulder-length hair whipped back in the wind from her fast march across the moon-brightened field, and her silver eyes flashed with humored love. Her young features pinched as she attempted to keep her amusement hidden, waving one pointed finger right at the tip of my nose as she came to a stop next to me. “You must cherish what the Fae gift you. Not torture the bloody beast.”

  I rolled my eyes up to the gleaming silver orb in the star-studded dark sky, exasperated by this old argument. I didn’t let my royal firepower lessen, the flames still leaping off and around my ‘bloody beast.’

  “Grandmother, look at Penelope. Does she look like she’s in pain?”

  Her too-slender arms crossed over her chest, and she muttered, “That is beside the point.”

  “Father said I must continue to do this, despite your complaints.” I curled my outstretched fingers, the flames burning even brighter. “If I use my power while I’m riding her, she cannot be frightened.”

  Grandmother’s silver eyes narrowed. “Does she look frightened to you?”

  “No.” My smirk was far too large, not humble at all.

  “Exactly. You have been doing this since you were five years old. Thirteen years is more than enough time for Penelope to get over her fear.”

  The smile on my face dimmed as confusion entered my gaze. “But Father said I must.”

  Her heavy exhale fluttered the hair around her gaunt cheeks. “I’m sorry, Trixie, but your father has no idea that you’ve been working ever so long on this. The king only sees her acting up when you two fly your beasts together. He’s simply worried and doesn’t know all of the details.”

  My hands dropped to my sides, and my power fizzled out to nothing. The slump of my shoulders was familiar when speaking about my father. I waved a frustrated hand at the small castle where my grandmother and I lived—alone. Situated behind the much larger palace where the king and my mother lived, only a long flower-covered field separated our two dwellings.

  I grumbled quietly, “He’d have all the details if he would come around more.”

  Grandma Isabella nodded her head in tender sympathy. “Your father is around a lot more than most rulers. I’ve explained this before, my dearheart. He does care about you and loves you fiercely. You must understand that his role in life keeps him terribly busy.”

  “Hmph.”

  One silver brow arched. “Trust me on this, Trixie. You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat their children. The more loving a parent, the better ruler of their people.”

  My nose crinkled. She may be right.

  “All right. If you need to hear this again… How long has your father ruled?” Grandmother didn’t give up. The soothsayer never did. It wasn’t in her to back down.

  “A thousand years,” I muttered.

  Grandmother was in full teacher mode now. Wonderful. “In the complete history of the five kingdoms, has any ruler lived without having their Fae-spark destroyed by assassins—bought and paid for by the ones they rule—for over five hundred years if they aren’t loved and well taken care of?”

  “No,” I acknowledged.

  Grandmother was a brilliant teacher.

  And an even better parent figure.

  She’s been both for me, sheltered away from the populace as I have been. She is the light to my dark…even if her power is considered on the dark side for elves, as is mine. But she is the woman I want to be when I grow older. Every ounce of fortitude, love, and respect contained in her heart and mind I wish to have in my own one day.

  “Precisely. It has been noted, throughout time, that the rulers who truly adore their children are spectacular rulers.” Grandmother may have been preening with pride now—just a little. “I raised a wonderful son to be your father. One who does love you, Trixie, but he simply cannot spend all waking hours with you. He must rule.”

  My sigh was heavy. “I know. I know.”

  “No, you don’t. Not truly. One day you will know what I speak of, but for now, you can only speculate and learn. You will understand in time—” Her words were cut off sharply.

  Worry instantly crinkled my forehead. “Grandmother?”

  Her blink was slow.

  Closing…then finally opening.

  Grandmother’s ordinarily silver eyes reflected with gold.

  I quickly grabbed her around the waist right before her entire body
went rigid in my arms, her limbs beginning to quake with uncontrolled movements. Trying to lie her down on the cool grass knocked the breath out of me, one of her elbows spiking right into my chest with enough power that I heard one of my ribs break—then snap back into place a moment later.

  The soft ground cushioned her body as she flailed, lost in one of her visions. I positioned myself above her head and kept my hands gently on her cheeks so I would be the first thing she saw when she broke free. No matter that my grandmother was over two thousand years old, the soothsayer was always frightened when she came to.

  My father may be the king of our people, but I still fully believed my grandmother had more power in terms of position in life. Both were unbelievably daunting, but hers was harder, in my humble opinion.

  In other words, my grandmother was an elven badass.

  Moonbeams gently swayed over the two of us, directed by passing clouds, as the green grass tickled my bare knees planted on the soft soil. My black skirt fanned around my body, and my thumbs brushed against my grandmother’s tormented face. I hummed a soft, soothing tune while I waited for her vision to end, trying my hardest to ignore the pain she was inflicting on herself while she thrashed and beat at the ground with her arms and legs. It always took a few minutes afterward for her body to heal all the broken bones. Not being tied down helped—that only made the injuries worse.

  The elven nursery song I sang flew away on the night’s breeze as her vision subsided in slow increments. Her arms and legs fell helplessly to the ground, her arched back smacked down with labored breathing. Her fingers and feet still twitched a rhythm I would never know, until her eyes blinked once more.

  Grandmother’s striking silver eyes, the gold evanescent, stared up at me. Her harsh intake of breath was nothing new. But the scream that escaped her mouth was.

  I stopped petting her hair, asking quickly, “What’s wrong?”

  Bones popped back together, even as she started to roll onto her side to hold my regard with absolute conviction. “Go to your father now. Run, Trixie. Run. And bring my son back here.”

  “Why?” I whispered, my adrenaline spiking.

  “Now, Trixie. There is no time for questions.” She pulled up onto her knees and shoved my left shoulder. “Do it now. That is an order from your family elder.”

  My chin trembled for the barest beat, and my two tiny fangs bit into my bottom lip. Then I nodded, not about to disobey. I jumped to my feet and started running to the king’s castle.

  I bellowed my harsh command over my shoulder, “Penelope! I need you. Don’t give me any of your Fae shit, and hurry!”

  For once, my pegasus actually submitted.

  Penelope’s hooves beat the ground behind me until she caught up, her whinny loud in the air as she ran next to me.

  Without stopping, I grabbed her red and black mane and hefted myself onto her black back. Her black and red wings pulled in to cover my legs since I wasn’t wearing a saddle, holding me safely in place. There was no need to fly. The takeoff taking too long, my Fae-gift ran full speed toward the only open back door on the castle.

  Penelope jumped inside, and we skidded against the tiles in the kitchen as she tried to slow down. Her left flank slammed into a wall, not brutal enough to break any of my bones or hers, but the pots hanging on the wall did clatter down to the floor around us—and there was a nice Penelope-sized dent in the wall now.

  The late night meant there were few kitchen staffers. The three here held themselves against their workstations, gripping the steel with white knuckles after their scramble to get out of the way. Their silly, white poufy hats were askew on their heads, and their jaws hung wide open.

  “Where is my father?” I questioned.

  The three workers merely stared, nothing emitting from their throats. Their shock still held them at bay.

  “My father!” I shouted and jutted out my chin. I glared down at them like the crown heir to the kingdom that I was. “Where is he?”

  The man in the middle lifted his right hand and pointed. I bypassed the way it trembled and swung my attention to the door on the right. He cleared his throat and finally spoke, “We were fixing the king a snack. He’s in his study.”

  “Open the door for us,” I ordered. “Immediately.”

  The staffer’s feet pedaled swiftly to do as told.

  Penelope trotted as fast as she could on the tiles, her clopping hooves obscene against the stillness of the royal castle. Not once did she buck as I turned her down different halls, loyally doing as I bid.

  My heart hammered in my chest as we stopped next to the study’s grand oak doors. I used the side of my left fist to bang on them, the bolts rattling on the doorframe from the strength of my blows.

  I bellowed, “Father!”

  King Traevon Towers threw the doors open seconds later. The emerald green of his eyes, identical to mine, stared at me in quiet calculation, the way my chest heaved with adrenaline and the death grip I had on my Fae-gift’s mane. Not to mention, Penelope was inside the castle—most certainly against the rules.

  My father pulled his dark red, shoulder-length hair up into a small knot at the top of his head, already preparing for battle. His small fangs flashed in the light. “Tell me what has happened.”

  “Grandmother had a vision, and, after, she ordered me as a family elder to leave her and get you.” I honored my grandmother too much not to listen. “There’s something wrong, Father. I’ve never seen her so serious.”

  King Traevon nodded his head once and maneuvered around Penelope’s body. His march down the tiled hallway was silent, unlike when he barked, “Stay here and don’t let Penelope shit on my floor. And if you see your mother, keep her inside, too.”

  “Father!” I argued.

  “Do not disobey me, Trixie,” he growled.

  The king disappeared around the corner, small sparks of fire already dancing from the tips of his fingers. He hardly ever let his power show, always so in control. He was absolutely ready to use his royal elven firepower if needed.

  My right fang bit into my bottom lip hard enough that a drop of blood pooled around my tooth. I whispered under my breath, “To Fairy with that.”

  I jerked on the mane twisted between my clenched fingers.

  Penelope didn’t move.

  Not now!

  I leaned over and spoke harshly near her twitching left ear, “If you don’t do as you’re told, I won’t give you a blue apple for a full year.”

  My pegasus snorted and turned her head to stare back at me with one fiery red eye, her mutiny obvious.

  “I am your owner, not him. He has Javon. I don’t care what the king said. My grandmother is scared.”

  Her nose twitched…just a smidge.

  I had her. “That’s right. Grandmother. Now get your stubborn pegasus ass moving.”

  Penelope’s ears twitched again—this time in agreement. I held on tightly as I led her the opposite way my father had gone, not wanting to bump into him if he was still inside. I had to get down a few times to open doors, but we were swiftly racing over the field of flowers separating Father’s castle from the heir’s castle. Her hooves beat a swift tempo that was coordinated with my heart, my nervousness ratcheting up as my father’s shadowy silhouette came into view in the dark of the night.

  The King of Elves was on his knees, his head bent as if in prayer to the Fae. Silver hair glinted in the moonlight on the still form lying on the ground next to him. My grandmother’s injuries should have healed by now. She should be moving. Did another vision hit her while I wasn’t there?

  My father’s attention snapped in my direction when he heard my Fae-gift’s hoofbeats, fire once again twirling on his fingertips, but he immediately extinguished his power, recognizing me. He lifted his left hand, throwing it up in a stopping gesture, and bellowed an anguished order, “Don’t come any closer, Trixie! Stay back!”

  I didn’t listen.

  Fairy! Penelope didn’t even listen.

 
We sprinted faster.

  My father was never…sad?

  The king’s hand dropped to his side in defeat.

  Penelope whinnied and reared up as we stopped, her call bereft in the night air at what we viewed—calling her father, if I wasn’t mistaken, even when she tried to be tough every other day with him.

  When her front hooves landed, I dismounted on stiff legs.

  I didn’t understand what I was seeing.

  I…did. But my brain refused to believe it.

  Why was there a hole in my sweet grandmother’s chest?

  This made no sense. Her loving heart holding her Fae-spark should be there. Instead, her heart was crushed and mutilated and lay next to her left shoulder on the dirt. Misplaced. It should be in her chest. Her chest shouldn’t have a fist-sized hole in it.

  Her head shouldn’t be five feet away from her body.

  I couldn’t…

  This didn’t…

  My grandmother…

  I jerked to the side and lost everything in my stomach all over the trampled flowers under my feet.

  Father didn’t look up from his mother, his form still kneeling on the ground, but he lifted his left hand and placed it gently on my left shoulder while I continued to be sick.

  Hoofbeats could be heard in the distance.

  I didn’t bother looking up as tears filled my eyes.

  Javon, my father’s Fae-gifted pegasus and Penelope’s sire, was hurtling toward us, answering his daughter’s forlorn call.

  I spat on the ground and gulped in much-needed oxygen, my emerald eyes slamming to my father’s profile. My agonized cry hurt my ears, “I don’t understand. She was fine when I left her.”

  The king swallowed hard and turned his wet eyes toward me, pinning me with his gaze. “Look around you. She was attacked.”

  I stood up straight on shaky legs, brushing Father’s hand off my shoulder, and tried to focus on our surroundings. Flowers upon flowers and the grass were flattened in a large circle around her body, the indented grass heading off toward one of our less fortified areas on the royal property.