Coastal Magic Shorts

Nidesha Challenges Annaliese To A Battle, Part One

Annaliese was looking forward to the day she could get rid of the surname Klein. That had been her fourth husband’s name. The last guy to take advantage of her swan maid magic, steal her swanskin and make her his common-law wife.

Wife. Hah. If only it had been something that nice. With swan maids, it never was. Not unless they somehow, against all odds, found their One, that single man in all the world who fit them exactly. Who would love, as well as be loved. A love that would only grow better with time.

Annaliese had found her One. Alex Fischer. Just the thought of him made her sigh. He’d turned twenty just last week, and in the few short months she’d known him, he had grown more muscular and blue-eyed and square-jawed and aw-shucks than ever. And more skittish.

Humans. Why didn’t they understand about magic? Alex was her One. Marriage was the obvious next step. You’d think she was asking him to skydive without a parachute.

She put her elbows on the reception desk, resting her chin in her hands. Maybe he didn’t like her hair. But no, Alex wasn’t the superficial type. He wouldn’t care if her short bob looked a lot like white feathers. Or that her eyes were black.

His uncle, Matthew Fischer, said that Annaliese just needed to give Alex time. Easy for him to say. Matt Fischer was a man. It didn’t take much to make a man happy.

Unless the man was Alex Fischer, apparently.

“I’faith,” a familiar voice sneered. “Poor swan maid. Pining away, are we? Pray die of a broken heart somewhere else. We must prosper His Highness’ wretched human-saving business, after all.”

Annaliese glared across the length of the lobby at Countess Nidesha, who stood framed in the hallway entrance. She was clad in a white bodysuit that clung and lifted and separated in all the right places, and she was busy braiding her waist-length hair, which was nearly as pale as Annaliese’s own. Her eyes, that absurdly deep and vivid green that Cedar Elves were known for, glittered with amused malice.

She had such pretty pointed ears, like teardrop pearls. Such a full, rosy mouth. Such a witchy personality.

“It’s not your day to work the desk,” Annaliese said. “If you don’t mind, I have–” Oh, how she wanted to lie and say she had a ton of work to do. If only fairykind could lie.

A smile graced Nidesha’s lovely lips. Did she even wear lipstick? If so, it probably had poison in it. “Work to do? Come, now. The phone isn’t ringing, little swan.”

“What do you want?”

“Why, to spar.” Nidesha began winding the braid into a bun low on her neck. Holding the bun in place with one hand, she walked over to the window and pushed it wide, reaching her free hand outside. A moment later, a thin tree branch grew through the opening, ending inside the lobby. Nidesha pinched off the last several inches and held them close to the back of her neck, and they wound themselves over and around her hair like a net.

Annaliese hid a shudder. Nidesha had severed the branch so casually, like cutting a loose thread.

“I swore to train you to fight, did I not?” Nidesha reached through the window again and tapped the branch, withering it. She pulled the window closed. “You are yet unskilled.”

“Maybe compared to you—“

“Would you truly have me abandon you now?” Nidesha put her fingertips to her cheek and widened her eyes. “Poor fledgling. Any cuckoo might shove you from the nest! Or mayhap, you think Alex Fischer fancies helpless women?”

Annaliese was on her feet in an instant. She knew she was being baited. She knew that. “Do not bring Alex into this.”

Nidesha prowled over until she was almost nose to nose with Annaliese. “This miserable place is Dair’s,” Nidesha said, still smiling, “and everything in it is Dair’s. Including you. What belongs to His Highness belongs to me. I wish to spar. Outside, little swan.”