The Mad King (The Dark Kings #1)(59)

“Uncivilized.” Jinni sniffed. His form shimmered like heat rolling off the desert sands. Cursed years ago to a semicorporeal existence, Jinni might never again know the touch of another soul. It was a curse Danika still worked diligently to try to reverse. Of all her boys, he was the most confusing. A naturally magical creature, he was Djinn—genie to most. With powers that rivaled her own, by all rights he shouldn’t have a godmother. But... he’d screwed up big, gotten himself cursed, lost his ability to use magic, and was now her problem to fix.

However—stubborn, difficult man that he was—he was offended by the very notion of a godmother. Which made her job all the more difficult.

Danika knew that beneath Jinni’s icy exterior flowed lava, a spark so hot it consumed. If a woman could ever get into that cold heart, his passion would burn as bright as the desert land he hailed from. However, there was still the minor problem of his near invisibility.

But she was not here for Wolf, Hook, Jinni, or even the lovely, thickheaded Gerard.

Hatter slouched even farther in his seat, his stare a mile long. Apathy clung to him like second skin.

She tsked.

Wolf stilled, sniffed, then looked up. The others followed suit.

“Fairy Godmother, here to grace us with your presence. Oh, goodie.” To the untrained ear, Hook’s greeting smacked of sarcasm, but she knew the raven-haired brute well.

She dropped to the center of the table, dwarfed by heaping trays of food and enveloped by the scented aroma of tea and spices.

Danika walked toward him, gossamer skirts swishing in her wake. “Were you hoping maybe for Tinker? Heard tell you had a thing for waifish blondes.” She patted the back of her bun, pointing her wand at her chest. “I could always turn myself...”

“Bollocks,” he growled but couldn’t quite hide the smile twitching the corner of his full lower lip. “I’ve a Pan to conquer, madam, so do let us hurry.”

“Ravishing as always. And is that stardust? Why, Danika, you shouldn’t have dressed so formally for us.” Gerard smoldered, his words layered with sex and decadence. Promises of dark seduction and wicked nights danced in the air.

Her stomach quivered and heat bloomed in her cheeks.

He smiled and scratched his own. The rascal. She’d find a woman to bring him to his knees. Too bad Belle had fallen for the Beast—she’d seemed so perfect. But alas...

She turned to the Hatter. He looked even more bedraggled up close. His tie was undone and skewed. She flitted to him, attempted to tuck back the dark strands of hair in his eyes, but it was useless.

Finally she sighed. “What has happened to you, Hatter?”

There were no emotions on his face and no smile to betray a hint of what he felt. “Life happened, fairy. Surely you know. Or haven’t you heard? Cursed I am. The sky is gray, the sky is light, and still the Hatter bemoans his plight.”

That voice made her think of hot nights, cool sheets, and heady moans.

A choir of mingling voices began to sing. “The Mad Hatter bemoans his plight. Oh nay, oh my, the Hatter bemoans his plight...”

“I hate those flowers. Enfer, why did you plant your abode here, Hatter?” Gerard’s French lilt grew rough with annoyance, and he chucked a bone toward the garden of singing dandelions.

Shrieks resonated and then flowery roars reached a cacophonous pitch as they cursed him full of boils, warts, and pustules.

“I do wish you’d hurry this on, starflower,” Jinni said with an exotic inflection that rolled over her skin like heated honey.

Dizzy and slightly breathless, she returned to the center of the table. Too much testosterone, too many fine pairs of eyes studying her. Heaven help the women these men paired with, they’d be the devil in the sheets for sure.

“As you know, I’m your godmother, and as such I’ve duties to fulfill.”

“Mon Dieu,” Gerard groaned. “Must we abide this horror every year? Be done with it, fée. It’s not worked yet.”

“Again?” Jinni crooked a brow.

Hook fiddled with the end of his mustache. A glint of something in his dark blue eyes led her to suspect he was not as opposed as the rest.

The Wolf gave a moaning growl—human in its whining undertones.

Hatter jerked. It was the first reaction she’d seen from him so far. She might have been pleased were it not for the threat of violence that quivered through the air like the strike of a finely honed blade.

“No more. I told you last time: no more, fairy.”

She held her chin high. “And I’ve given you leeway and your space. But it is more than time to get back in the game. We will keep searching until we find your Alice. We must.” The lie settled heavy on her tongue. Alice had been already been found, and she knew without a doubt he’d be irate. Danika raised her chin. She would not give in to fear though, not now.

Gerard threw himself back in the chair, causing the legs to rock precariously, and laughed, a great big booming sound that rent the night. Pigwidgeons scattered like falling rose petals in a thousand different directions.

Gerard picked his teeth. “Mates, I’m in. I’ll take three; no, make that four. All blondes. Big”—he framed his chest—“and no readers. Dieu, I hate readers.” His nose curled as he grabbed his magically full tankard again.

“One will do. And that goes for all of you.” She eyed Jinni hard.