To The Fairest

  TO THE FAIREST

  (Fairest of Them All)

  A D R I A N N E B R O O K S

  TO THE FAIREST

  A Fairest of Them All Novel

  Adrianne Brooks

  Copyright © 2014

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  For questions and comments about this book, please contact us at [email protected]

  Cover Art: Book Cover by Design

  Published by: Rascal Hearts

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Maximillian Zaran had never truly understood the idea of loyalty.

  Out of all the demons out there, Wish Granters had the unique honor of understanding the intricacies of the human psyche the best. Zaran struggled with concepts like love and guilt. Honor, strangely enough, was simple for him to comprehend and utilize. But loyalty, a close cousin, eluded him. The idea of devoting oneself to another person, of being willing to sacrifice morals and personal comfort for the benefit of someone else, seemed both barbaric and idiotic. People were idiots. How were they ever supposed to prosper and succeed if they were always worrying for one another?

  He liked to think that on the day he died, he’d finally understood at least a fraction of what it all meant. What it was to have loyalty. To favor the fate of the many over the comfort of the one. More likely than not, he’d simply made yet another stupid mistake in a long line of them and had ended up paying for it with his life. All that other sentimental bullshit was just the ramblings of an overly proud demon who liked to think that he hadn’t ended his existence for a whim.

  Yeah.

  That was probably it.

  He’d known things would never be the same once the Imp Rumplestiltskin had first been released. He was a lower level demon, but what made him truly dangerous was his lack of a true name. All demons had true names. It’s what gave them power. What made them who they were. A demon, even a lower level one, could wreak havoc. Especially when he had the ability to take the names of other demons. It made it easy for him to rise through the ranks as if they meant nothing, taking out High Lords and Dukes of hell as he went along.

  It was the reason why Rumple had been cursed in the first place.

  Now Zaran found himself pandering to the whims of an Imp. One too powerful now to fight but too valuable to lose thanks to his particular skill set. He was the only one among them able to deal with the witches. They’d never see him coming and that was the beauty of it. After the Widows had killed off the Fae, the demons had feasted on their souls, crushed their bones, worn their skins, dried out their blood and snorted it in neat lines laid out upon naked flesh. Magical beings from the other land were sold like jewels. Treated as a status symbol. It had been so many years since the massacre of the Fae that the underworld was craving a new form of currency. Of riches. Now that their supply of Fae was running out, the witches seemed the next logical course. Their power was similar enough to be just as potent, but different enough to be exotic.

  As an added bonus, getting rid of the witches would pave the way for the Widow’s return. They had always been strong supporters of the demons and the sky was the limit when it came to the type of havoc that they would be able to wreak together. First things first, the demons needed, wanted, craved, a new obsession. One they could sell and trade. Without it their economy would crumble. Which meant that the demon who could bring about that change would be the one held in the highest esteem…regardless of his original status. It was supposed to have been how Zaran finally improved his standing.

  But Rumple had somehow taken control. Not only of Zaran’s plans but of everything. He was running other demons into the ground. Gaining the trust of some with his slaughter of the Witches and simply destroying the demons who questioned his position. Which meant that Zaran, who possessed a higher than average sense of self-preservation, had wisely chosen to play the part of side-kick. Despite the fact that he despised every second of it. For instance, their current endeavor just so happened to include torturing Maleficent. He’d always wondered what it would be like, causing the Witch pain. But it turned out that it wasn’t nearly as fun as he’d always imagined it would be.

  “Where are they hiding?”

  “—don’t…don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He wrapped his arms around her throat, chuckling when she struggled for breath and scratched at his face with her nails. She’d given up trying to use magic days ago. Her magic had no effect on him. The spells somehow sliding off his skin, unable to attach to him. Without a true name it was as if he didn’t exist at all. It made it hard, if not impossible, for anything that wasn’t from his own realm to harm him. In fact, as far as Zaran knew Hellfire was the only thing that could do him harm. Fortunately for Zaran, Hellfire was rare. Zaran couldn’t remember the last time fire had been in hell. It was a frozen tundra now. So cold that it might as well have been heat.

  “Where. Is. Samuel?” Rumple snarled, smile affixed on his face.

  “Why do you even care?”

  His head cocked to one side. “He presents a threat. One I’d rather eradicate than let live.” His thumbs caressed her skin and she shuddered, eyes fluttering in disgust. “Tell me where he is, love. I’ll make the pain stop if you do.” Leaning down he pressed his lips against hers. “If you play your cards right, it’s possible we could reach some sort of…agreement.”

  “Do you know what happens to a demon after they die?”

  Rumple blinked, startled by the suddenness of the question.

  “No. I can’t say that I do.”

  Maleficent met his eyes and there was a wild rage in her, a proud defiance that lit her face and gave her following words an edge of threat despite her situation.

  “They burn.” She hissed, and spit in his face.

  His claws bit into her throat and tore skin. Then he struck her with the back of his hand, hard enough that her head snapped back. Zaran found himself taking a step forward, but held still just in time. His jaw tightening. This didn’t feel right. Probably because, no matter how badly they got along with one another, he still respected Maleficent. She was a pain in his ass, a constant interference to his plans. But…they had history together. They had a system. He did something awful, and she beat him soundly for it. It was just the way things were. In truth, even as he’d been making plans to kill off the witches and sell their souls to the demons, he’d somehow expected Maleficent to stop it before things progressed too much further.

  Rumple would have said that he wasn’t committed enough. Wasn’t loyal. And maybe he’d be right. But he couldn’t stop the thoughts in his heads. The doubts. The instinctive snarl that lifted his upper lip when Rumple struck her again, and again, and again. When Rumple opened his mouth and began to breathe in, sucking up Maleficent’s power and essence, she whimpered and coughed up blood. Zaran wasn’t sure why he spoke just then, but the words escaped before he could stop him
self or really understand what he hoped to accomplish.

  “Sir.” He said, “I believe Mara had a message for you from Danielle.”

  Rumple paused, releasing Maleficent abruptly as eagerness filled his gaze.

  “What is it?”

  Zaran shook his head. “I wouldn’t know, but she should be at her desk.”

  Rumple nodded and turned away. “Watch her.” He said absently, leaving the room without looking at either of them on his way out. Silence weighed heavy between them and Zaran stared down at Maleficent, willing her to look at him. When she did, he very deliberately turned his back on her. She wasn’t tied down. Nothing was keeping her there but him, and Zaran couldn’t seem to work up enough enthusiasm to carry out the task. He heard a rustle, felt a bend in the air as magic gathered, and when next he looked the space where she had been collapsed onto the ground was bare.

  Maleficent was gone.

  Now she’d be safe.

  When Rumple found out what he had done, or rather, what he hadn’t done, there was no guarantee that Zaran would be able to boast the same.

  Chapter One

  “I’m cute.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I’m cute and cute, and the cutest of cuters.”

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “I know.”

  “Mostly though, I’m just sexy and my ass is super toned. Have you bounced a quarter off of it yet?”

  “Not yet. But I’ve been thinking about it.”

  “That’d be cool. You can touch my penis you know? It likes you bunches. I bet if you paid it some attention I would stop talking about whatever boring subject you’re ignoring this time.”

  “Do you promise?”

  Sam sighed. Crouching until he was eye level with me, he snapped his fingers in front of my eyes.

  “Alex.” He said, sounding more than a little irritated. “Focus.”

  I shook my head to clear it, and gave it a shot.

  “Ok. Now what?”

  “Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

  “I’ve been listening to you.” I told him before he could accuse me of anything serious.

  “No you haven’t.”

  “Yes I have.”

  “You’ve been staring at my crotch for the past five minutes.”

  “How would you know?” I demanded, then I flushed guiltily. “I mean, no I haven’t.”

  His lips quirked into a half smile. “Then what have we been talking about?”

  I hesitated, more blood rushing to my face as I dropped my gaze. He shook his head in disgusted amusement.

  “Sorry.” I grumbled, and he sighed before taking a seat next to me on the couch. I was curled up beneath a blanket, a bowl of popcorn in my lap and my hand on the remote. I’d been watching a show when he’d come bursting into the apartment, all frazzled about something or other. I’m not even sure when I stopped listening, or why. But when he started pacing in front of me, my gaze had gone directly to those cheeks and they hadn’t released me since. I would have felt bad about it, but he’d started shooting goldfish crackers down my cleavage a few weeks ago and I figured I was past due for a little old fashioned leering.

  “So what has your panties in a twist?”

  He sent me a look from the corner of his eye before leaning back and pulling me in close.

  “The doctor called.”

  My eyes narrowed and I tried focusing extra hard on the television. The hope was that if I looked uninterested enough, he’d stop talking.

  “He says that you never showed up. That it’s the third appointment you’ve missed in as many weeks.”

  He obviously wasn’t going to let this go.

  “No.” I said, deciding to cut things short.

  “Alex.” He said, grabbing my knees and pulling me around to face him, my feet on the cushions beside his knee. “Alex, you have to go.”

  “I don’t want to.” I groused.

  “But for me you will.” There was a hardness in his voice that pretty much defied argument and I groaned, pulling myself into his lap and pressing my cheek against his. He was so furry and warm and delicious.

  “Come on baby.” I said, striving for sultry jazz. “It’s my birthday.”

  “First of all.” He began, kissing his way down my neck. “No it isn’t. Secondly, that has nothing to do with anything.”

  My breath caught and I squirmed in his lap, everything else fading under the warmth of his touch. “Yeah, whatever.”

  “I told him you’d be in at 3:00pm.”

  “Yeah, ok.” Mentally, I made a promise to wrap this touchy feely stuff up by 2:30 so that I could hide out.

  “And because I know how awful you are at keeping appointments.” He said with amusement, “I’m going to drive you there myself.”

  I groaned and let myself fall backwards onto the cushions, staring up at the ceiling and trying to ignore my rising frustration.

  “Sam.” I began. “I can’t stress enough how much I dislike your chosen mode of transportation.”

  “Don’t care.” He said shortly. “I’m not dissing the Harley. I just got it back and besides, leather pants make my ass look fan-tastic.”

  Couldn’t exactly argue with that.

  “Fine.” I pressed my feet into his lap and felt something interesting. “Oh la a. What do we have here?” He growled and shoved my legs aside.

  “Something that’s going to have to wait until we get back.” Shoving me the rest of the way off the couch he got to his feet. “Now go get ready.”

  “It’s not even two yet.”

  “I want to get there early. Claim the best magazines in the waiting room.”

  “You’re ridiculous.”

  “I like to think of it as frugal. Subscriptions to Ebony can be expensive.”

  I laughed. “What the hell are you learning from Ebony?”

  “How to be a strong black woman?”

  I had to clutch my stomach I was laughing so hard, and Sam stepped over me on his way from the living room. Clearly offended.

  “Oh come on Sammy.” I said breathlessly. “I think it’s cute.”

  “We leave in five.”

  I sighed as I rolled to my feet.

  If sex wasn’t going to distract him then I was pretty much out of ideas and I trudged to the bedroom in low spirits. Already imagining the worst. I hated going to the doctor. I was somehow under the impression that no one was ever really sick until a doctor told them that they were. I hadn’t been feeling well the last few weeks, but I was ready and willing to write off the occasional discomfort to my atrocious eating habits. Sam wasn’t so flippant towards my health however, and he’d been hounding me to get checked out. He’d even gotten my mother on his side, and Danielle Greyson had refused to tutor me in the fine arts of black widowdom until I figured out what the hell was going on.

  It hadn’t exactly been a deterrent however.

  Learning magic was cool and everything, but hanging out with my mother for ten hours a week wasn’t exactly my idea of fun. If she actually gave me bathroom breaks and stopped calling me names, I’d almost classify our sessions as a part time job. Or maybe even an internship since there was no way in hell she was ever paying me anything. Speaking of which, I still owed her from when I had to bail Rachel and Christopher out of jail. While my best friend and my brother hadn’t ended up on the wrong side of the law again, they hadn’t been acting…normal.

  I wasn’t sure what ‘normal’ was for Chris yet, but Rachel seemed withdrawn. Almost hesitant to be around me. I had to admit the fact that some of the reason why I’d been so reluctant about going to the doctor was because I was waiting for Rachel to rip me a new one. I was sort of looking forward to it. But no dice. She’d been M.I.A ever since Chris’s curse had broken and had dodged my calls as if I were a loan shark eyeing her knee caps.

  Maybe I’d go see her after my doctor’s appointment was over. Make her feel bad for ignoring me for so long. I got dressed, did my hair and all that other extra stuff to make m
e less offensive to the general population. Once finished with all of that I examined myself critically in the mirror. I had never been much of a primper, but I’d begun taking extra care of my appearance lately. It was sort of a necessity. If I let myself slack off in the foundation and blush department I’d look more like a corpse than a woman. A lovely byproduct as my yet unnamed illness.

  Once I looked less like a zombie, I sat on the edge of my bed and performed a quick centering ritual. Ever since I’d accepted my birthright, controlling it had become easier and easier. According to Danielle, our gifts were passed down from our Siren ancestors. If I wanted, I could lure a man to his death or get out of a speeding ticket without flashing nipple. That was the upside.

  The downside was that if I wasn’t careful, or if I used my power too much or too often, I’d start attracting more than your average admirer, and my boy toys liked to get...pushy. I had no desire to find myself in the same position as before, so I grit my teeth and followed my mother’s instructions to the letter. According to Danielle, centering myself was a good way of keeping control over my magic. It had helped. As long as I performed the centering thing each morning, my allure was kept under wraps unless I wanted to utilize it.

  Closing my eyes, I straightened my spine and took a deep, cleansing breath. I’d done this often enough that I didn’t need to force my mind to go where I wanted it. As soon as I’d inhaled and exhaled a few times I slipped within an easy trance. I was no longer aware of my body in the usual sense. Instead I was painfully in tune with the life and magic that lived just below my skin. Swirling in my veins and filling me up.

  It was sort of like being in a river. Right now the current was calm and controlled and I investigated the depths to keep them that way. Lately, I’d begun to notice something strange swimming in the depths of me. Something…off in the flow of my magic. It lay heavy along the bottom of my ‘river’ and I averted my eyes. Getting too close, staring at it for too long, made me nauseous and shaky. Which is why I’d perfected the art of ignoring it. I probably should have mentioned it to Danielle, but I was pretty sure that it had something to do with my health. Both had started to decline around the same time. For the first time I saw an upside to Sam’s bullying. If Doctor Leon could help me feel better, I may not have to deal with the dark undertone in my magic anymore. Done for the moment, I finished up my magical maintenance and pulled myself free of the trance.