"Evelyn reports you have been uncooperative," the queen said. Though her tone was not unkind, she was not one to overlook disobedience from any within her court, least of all from him.

"Uncooperative? No, I wouldn't call it that," Luke replied as they strode along the sidewalk, going nowhere in particular. His mother had appeared in the mortal realm without warning, though her visit was not entirely unexpected.

"Then by all means," she said. "Explain yourself."

He shook his head, ordering his thoughts. "How am I to seduce a girl for whom I feel nothing?"

The queen remained silent as they walked, seemingly contemplating his words, but he knew better. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, but she kept her gaze forward. "Evelyn reports you have been unfriendly to the girl," she said at last. "She reports you hardly speak to her."

He wanted to say exactly what he thought of Evelyn and her reports, but he held his tongue. "The girl does not inspire kindness," he said instead. "She is rude and condescending. I find her entirely unappealing."

"Surely not entirely," his mother replied with a grin in her voice. She stopped then and turned to face him. Her attention was uncomfortably intrusive, but he didn't look away.

"Yes," he said. "Entirely."

"You said the same of those last girls, and yet you could not help yourself in the end."

Luke felt the blood rise to his face. To be reminded of the part he had played in their fate, how unrestrained lust had meant their ruin . . .

"Perhaps you should choose someone else, someone who would be better—"

"I chose you," she interjected, temper flaring. "Other fay would wage battle for the honor of your position within my court. You are my son, Lucas. I made you what you are."

"But these girls . . . they are innocents," he argued.

Her laughter was explosive. "Would you have us starve to satisfy your sense of morality? My kingdom, and all who reside in it, is my responsibility. It is your responsibility."

The queen reached out suddenly and cupped the empty vial that hung around his neck. She pulled hard enough that the leather cord dug painfully into his skin and caused him to stumble forward. Their faces were mere inches apart. His mother's beauty was terrifying. "Need I remind you what will happen if you do not bring me what I desire, what I need?"

"No," he said through his teeth. "You do not."

The queen studied him through narrowed eyes, at last releasing the vial. She traced the line of his jaw with her finger, her touch gentle and feather-light. It was a touch he sometimes recalled from a very long time ago, on the rare occasion he dreamed.

She sighed. "My sweet Lucas, these girls are but mere mortals. It pains me to see you concern yourself so."

"I was once mortal myself, or do you not remember?"

"I do remember," she said quietly, a faraway look in her eyes. "But you are mortal no more."

There was no response he could give that she would find satisfactory, so he said nothing. Still, he could no longer do what his mother required of him, and there was only one way to end his servitude. He had realized this long ago but until now had lacked the courage to act. If he refused the task and was unable to replenish the vial, the queen would weaken and eventually die . . . and all of The Otherside with her. But he had lived an unnaturally long life already and embraced the end of his existence.

"Go to her," the queen crooned. "Remember who you are."

Luke bowed his head. "Yes, my queen."

He would remember exactly who he was.

**********

Luke realized he must appear to follow the queen's orders and so arranged to meet Maura after school. She was already in the library, sitting alone at one of the tables in the center of the room, half a dozen books spread about her. As he started in her direction, a hand closed around his arm and pulled him into the seclusion of the towering stacks.

"Looking for something else to report to the queen?" he said to Evelyn, yanking his arm free from her grasp. He hadn't seen her all day, but she had the annoying habit of popping up when and where she wasn't wanted.

"Don't be angry, Lucas. I'm only doing what's been asked of me."

His brows rose. "Asked? The queen doesn't ask. But I'm sure I don't have to remind you of that."

Evelyn crossed her slender arms over her chest, all pretenses of humor vanishing. "I wouldn't have to report your actions to the queen if you would remember your appointed task."

Luke kept his mouth firmly closed, knowing Evelyn enjoyed provocation. Still, there was something in her eyes he hadn't seen before.

"Do your job," she said, the look vanishing before he could pinpoint exactly what it was. "And be quick about it."

Without another word, she turned and faded into the stacks.

"You're late," Maura said without looking up when he finally approached the table.

"Five minutes isn't late."

She checked the time on her phone. "More like eight. Please be on time in the future. Some of us have other places to be."

"Like hurrying home to do more studying?"

There was spite in her eyes. That particular look, he knew well.

"Sit down so we can get started," Maura instructed. "Have you looked at the rubric?"

"The what?" Luke asked, pulling out a chair.

"The rubric. Do you even know what this assignment is about?"

"Um . . ."

"Of course not." Maura pulled out a piece of paper and pushed it toward him. "This is the rubric Mrs. Raines handed out. Like, a week ago," she added with emphasis. "If we want an A, we have to follow these criteria. So?" She stared at him, one brow raised.

"So?"

"We have to write an original fairy tale. Do you have any brilliant ideas?"

"Not exactly."

She sighed heavily, slumping in her chair. "I was afraid of that."

"I'm not much of a writer."

"Well, sadly, neither am I." She shook her head as if to clear it. "Okay, let's just come up with a rough idea and then we can call it a day and get out of here."

"Great."

She turned her notebook so he could see what she had been working on. "I took the liberty of jotting down a few story prompts that I thought might work. I figured I should get something done," she added under her breath, shooting an accusatory look in his direction. "Look it over and see if you like one of these."

"If it means we can get this over with quicker . . ." He twirled a finger over the paper without taking his eyes off her and randomly pointed at one of her scribbled notes. "This one."

She angled her head to read his selection, her nose wrinkling. "Seriously?"

"Sure."

"But it's a totally ridiculous idea."

"You told me to pick one, so I picked one."

"I thought you would pick a good one."

"What's the difference? Besides, it's your idea."

"But it's awful! Even I can admit that. Just like all the other ideas I came up with." She put her head in her hands, red waves spilling over her fingers. "Gods, we're gonna fail."

Luke stared at her, feeling suddenly like he was going to burst out laughing, something he hadn't done in a very long time. He cleared his throat. "You're just overthinking the assignment."

She looked at him. "Whatever. We can do that one. It's fine."

"Great. You can take the lead."

"Fine by me."

They worked for a while, saying as little as possible to each other. Luke wasn't one for making small talk and was relieved she didn't seem inclined either. But after hashing out a crude outline, Maura looked at him. She opened her mouth to say something but then shook her head, returning her eyes to their notes.

"What?" he said.

"It's nothing." She was silent for a moment longer, and then: "I had lunch with your sister yesterday."

Luke froze. "Evelyn?"

Her smile was faint. "Well, we didn't exactly have lunch. More like she crashed my personal study session."

"That sounds exactly like her. What did she want?"

Maura's face went as red as her hair. "Oh! Nothing," she said, suddenly flustered. "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

He could tell she was lying, though. Evelyn had said something of interest to her, but what? "You should stay away from her," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I said so." His words came out more harshly than intended.

The librarian shushed him from behind her desk.

"I'm not joking," he added in a whisper.

The alarm on Maura's phone began to chime just then. "I have to go," she said as she started to pack up her things. "We can meet again tomorrow after school."

"You're assuming I'm not busy," he answered.

"Would you rather meet in the morning?"

"No."

"Then I'll see you after school."

**********

Luke held the glass vial balanced on his open palm, trying—and failing—to ignore the warmth radiating from within. "It's done," he said.

The queen took the vial and held it to the light, tilting the shimmering contents so that they flowed slowly toward one end. "Is this all? The vial is half empty."

Recognizing the question as rhetorical, he did not answer. "I cannot do it again," he said instead.

Siobhan uncorked the vial and upended it over her goblet, the viscous contents trickling out like heavy syrup. The thought of consuming it made his stomach turn. "You can, and you will," she replied evenly.

Luke's expression hardened. His mother, seeing it, pressed her lips together. "May I remind you that you do not have a choice?"

"One always has a choice," he said, though he didn't meet her gaze.

Siobhan placed the goblet on the table, the gracefulness of her movements belying the rage he knew simmered beneath the visage of her calm demeanor. "I refuse to have this conversation with you." She stepped behind him then and tied the now-empty vial, threaded with a leather cord, around his neck, knotting it with faery magic. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "You gave me your fealty, remember?"

"I did not give it to you freely," he said. "You took it from me when I was too young to refuse."

Siobhan came to stand in front of him once more. Though she was small and slight, his heart fluttered uncomfortably under his breastbone at the fierce look in her eyes. "I have raised you as my own," she said. "I gave you the gift of immortality."

"That was no gift, Mother," he replied. "It was a curse."

"You would call immortality a curse?" She lifted a brow, questioning. "Such cheek from my son. Tell me, what is the price of a human life?"

"The price of even one is too great."

"For whom?" she asked.

"For them. For me. I am not like you, Mother. I am not . . ." His words trailed off. He had said too much already.

"Heartless?" she supplied, a goading smile lifting the corners of her mouth. She placed her palm against his cheek and took a step closer, depositing a chaste kiss against his lips. It took all his resolve not to recoil. "Oh, my sweet Lucas," she whispered. "My love. Your heart is as black as mine."

Luke's eyes fluttered open. He lay in his bed, his heart beating wildly, his mother's words echoing in the recesses of his mind.

A dream. It was only a dream . . .

*****

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