The Mad King (The Dark Kings #1)(57)



Preposterous.

She was a disgrace to all the fairy godmothers out there with her ridiculous bippity-boppity-booing.

Not to mention her clientele. That simpering little doll—a classic Mary Sue if ever there was one. Oh save me, Prince Charming, for I am pretty and cannot do a thing for myself. Bat lashes, wiggle bottom, ad nauseam.

Blah!

Pathetic little creature. Danika would rather gouge her eye out with a spoon. A rusty one! And... and... roughened at the edges. She humphed. That’s how much she hated the simpering princes and princesses of her world.

Thankfully, she’d never have that problem. The moment Danika had graduated from Fairy Godmother Incorporated—three hundred years ago—she’d applied to work as godmother to the lowly. Since none of the other godmothers wished to work for the less desirable clients, the powers that be had given her the position posthaste and left her to do her thing. Quite happily too, she might add.

Danika worked for the bad boys of Kingdom.

The degenerates, lowlifes, and naughty villains. She snorted, shaking her head at how little anyone knew about her boys. Why any self-respecting fairy godmother would pass them over for an inane twit who relied on animals to do her housecleaning was beyond her. Grabbing her stardusted cloak from the coatrack, she tossed it over her shoulders. Glittering bits of stardust drifted to the floor.

A golden bolt of power flowed down her arm, through her fingers, and out the tip of the wand. It swirled like a flame, dousing out the candles. She shut the door behind her. Tiny, iridescent wings broke free of her vest, lifting her high into the bejeweled night. Her path cut through trees with branches as thick as the fattest snakes.

Stargazers shivered at her passing. “Thank you, Fairy Godmother!” they crooned as the stardust settled on their beautiful pink petals. They swiveled on thin green stems, lapping up the powder like a fine wine.

Danika winked, gave them a jaunty wave, and continued on. Most days she’d stop to chat, maybe sing a song or two, but tonight she traveled in haste.

Once a year, the Bad Five (the truly worst of the worst of her boys) gathered to drink, to discuss whom they’d plot against next, and generally muck it up together. It was perfect timing for her—because she had five birds to kill and one stone to do it with.

Miriam the Shunned—fairy godmother of wishes and visions—had given Danika some sobering news last month. Either get the Bad Five hitched, or great misfortune would befall them.

Not like Danika hadn’t made many love matches already. Her résumé was quite hefty. Why just last week, Mr. Fee Fi Fo Fum himself had fallen madly for the Wicked Witch of the West. Next month was to be their nuptials. Danika had received her invitation to the gala only today. And last month she’d introduced Tweedledee to La-Di-Dah, sparks had ignited, and Danika was fairly certain there’d be a second wedding in the future.

Danika was good at love matches when given sufficient time, but love matches weren’t as simple as poof, there she is; kissy kissy; and sailing off into the sunset. Finding a perfect mate took patience and due diligence. To suddenly be told the Bad Five had a year to find their mates... The thought twisted Danika’s stomach in knots.

Not like Danika hadn’t tried already, many times. But love was much more than chemistry; it was a melding of hearts and minds, of seeing someone and knowing unequivocally she or he was it.

Thankfully, Miriam had gifted Danika with a boon. There’d been an incident several years ago, one nearly forgotten by all but Danika and Wolf. A sad affair really... Danika shook her head, shoving the haunting memories aside before they grew too strong and claimed her thoughts. Now was not the time to think on that. Eventually she’d have to address the wrong and pray to the gods she could make it right. But today was for her boys, and thanks to Miriam’s sight, Danika now knew the names of the women, the very ones her boys were destined to be with.

But she’d been shocked. Not at the names, but rather at the reality of just how close she’d been to finding Hatter’s match once before. All within Kingdom knew Alice was destined for Hatter. Their story had been entwined since the very beginning. Problem was, of the millions of Alices in the world, ’twas hard to know exactly which one she was.

When Danika was around a viable option, her entire body would tingle. Her body had tingled many times, and each time she’d been wrong. But a few years ago she’d come across an Alice who did more than make her tingle; her body had surged with power so intense that Danika had momentarily blacked out.

Her name was Alice Hu.

Miriam had told Danika that Hatter’s true match was also named Alice Hu, great-granddaughter of the original. And Hatter had hated the original.

Flapping her wings harder, Danika tried to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’d agonized about this all night and finally come to the only conclusion there was: she would not tell him who the girl was beforehand.

A squawking noise broke her from her musings. Startled, she looked up, and just in time too. A large white stork carrying a blue bundle in its long beak headed straight toward her.

“Stork!” she cried and beat her gossamer wings in a furious fashion, hoping to sail clear of the sharp dagger that was his beak tip. She clutched her chest, breathing deep to calm frazzled nerves.

“Mmm, so shorry, Danika. Muss make me drop time—hiss Excellenshe will tar and feather me if I’m late.” His words were slurred as he was unable to open his beak too wide lest the babe drop out.

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