Fairyville (Fairyville #1)(48)
Author: Emma Holly

"It’s all right," she said, reaching for the door handle. "It’s not like I know what I want, either."

By the time Zoe walked back to her own car, she realized there was one thing she knew she wanted: straight answers from her manager.

Refusing to consider whether getting them was a good idea, she drove to Magnus’s Earth-friendly earthship house. She’d only been here once before, for a wine and Cheetos party he’d thrown for his proteges. It had been their first Halloween together, about a month after he’d started managing her. Magnus had been a little high on salsa music and Mexican beer. He’d danced with her in the moonlight with the red rocks stretching out on the horizon and the other guests laughing inside. He’d called her a fairy princess and threatened to lock her in a magic pumpkin so he could keep her all to himself. His words had seemed more silliness than flirtation, but if Zoe could date her crush on him to any moment, that was the one. He’d made her feel special. Not strange. Not gifted. Just special.

Of course, it had been some other woman he’d spent the next full moon with.

She tried to wipe the memory from her face as she proceeded up his succulent-lined walk. She didn’t need to be thinking about why she was an idiot when she faced him.

His thick front door swung open at her knock. Surprised that he’d be letting his nice cool air out, Zoe called his name and walked into his long glassed hall. The combined living room and kitchen opened to her left, its ceiling slanting up fifteen feet to meet the tall windows. Magnus sat on a bright blue, modern couch in its shadowed rear, his torso canted over his sprawled knees. He looked up as she entered, but didn’t speak.

Strangely, Zoe found she couldn’t speak, either. Magnus didn’t look like himself. Oh, he was still handsome, still sexy enough to make her grind her teeth against the unfairness of the universe, but the crackling energy that made him him had obviously sunk to a depressed ebb. As she approached, she saw he was flipping a DVD case for The Simpsons over and over in his hands, as if the thought of putting the disc into the player and possibly laughing was too much for him.

Even more telling, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream was melting into soup on the coffee table next to his brass replica of Aladdin’s lamp. Magnus was a junk food junkie, but the spoon didn’t even look like he’d picked it up.

When she was close enough to have touched him, he sagged back into the couch. His eyes were hollow, his five o’clock bristle way darker than Alex’s. Zoe didn’t think she’d ever seen him unshaven. Her insides squirmed with interest, which—after the rather remarkable boinkfest she’d had with Alex—made her want to eat that ice cream herself.

No one who’d refused to have actual sex with her should have the right to look that mouth-wateringly masculine.

She supposed her expression wasn’t the friendliest. Magnus stared at her for a long, tired moment before his chest lifted on a sigh. "I have nothing to say to you," he said. "I wish I did, but I don’t."

"Why don’t you wait until I ask my questions first."

"As you wish." He threw The Simpsons listlessly onto the cushion beside him, the opposite of an invitation to sit.

"Fine," Zoe said, ignoring the twinge of hurt. "We don’t have to pretend this is fun. I simply need to ask you about a weird experience Alex and I had at Fairy Falls."

"A ‘weird experience’? Is that what they’re calling wild sex these days?"

Zoe’s breath caught in her throat, not only at the accuracy of his guess but at the bitterness of the anger flashing in his eyes. "Okay, I’m not going to ask how you know that, or why you think it’s your business, but I need to know if your mother is alive or dead, and if she’s dead, I need to know if she passed in some gruesome fashion, because if Alex and I met her spirit, it’s seriously pissed."

Magnus was on his feet before she’d finished, his hands pressed trembling to either side of her head. "Oh, God," he said. "Are you all right?"

If she’d understood the reason for it, this level of concern might have been flattering.

"I’m fine," she said, shaking him off. Talking about cursed bubbles seemed ridiculous, so she let that lie. "I’m just confused. Why would your dead mother want you to come home, and why is her shade lingering at the falls?"

Magnus’s normally high color seemed to have bled right out of his face. "She said she wanted me to come home?"

"Actually, she said she wanted Alex to. We think… it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but we think she must have mistaken him for you."

"She’s nearsighted when she’s here," Magnus said in a dazed, faint tone.

"Evidently, since you and Alex aren’t exactly twins."

Magnus winced and took her shoulders in his hands, speaking slowly and carefully. "Did my mother say anything to you, Zoe? Did she seem to know who you were?"

Zoe folded her arms, less than pleased to be answering his questions. "She seemed to think I was your girlfriend."

"Hellfire." The curse was typical Magnus, but she didn’t smile—considering it wasn’t the most ingratiating exclamation he could have made. She watched as he shoved his hands in his thick black hair and began pacing his living room. After about half a minute he spun on his heel.

"You have to promise me you won’t go back."

"I can’t speak for Alex, but it’s safe to say Fairy Falls has dropped off my must-see list. I’m beginning to think I’m not cut out for facing everything Fairyville can throw at me."

Magnus’s clear green eyes narrowed. "This isn’t a joke. It’s important that you stay away from there."

Zoe didn’t bother to tell him her answer had been serious. "You want to tell me why?"

His face twisted. "I can’t."

"You can’t."

"Would you rather I invent a lie?"

Zoe stared at him, refusing to acknowledge the plea for mercy shining in his eyes. "No," she said slowly. "I guess you’re right about that. I’ve had enough of being lied to."

He said her name, but she turned away anyway, walking out the way she’d come without a backward glance. The heat that prickled between her shoulder blades didn’t matter. Knowing that he was watching her didn’t change a thing.

Magnus didn’t bother to scream again, though he wanted to. He also didn’t throw the couch across the room or shatter a whiskey glass. Now wasn’t the time for pointless operatics. Now was the time for action.

Gritting his teeth, he dumped the melting ice cream into the sink and grabbed an apple from his fruit bowl. Magnus’s fairy metabolism ensured he didn’t have to worry about getting fat, but his brain was feeling in need of vitamins.