Night School Read online

  “We were so young and stupid,” Dad says, shaking his head. “It’s hard to believe we thought we could make it on our own with no help.”

  “But you did,” Sunny reminds him. “I mean, obviously you must have worked it out somehow. We live pretty well.”

  My two parents look at one another and smile. “Thanks to Heather,” they say in unison.

  Sunny and I glance over at our stepmom, who up until now has been quiet. She nods. “Guilty as charged,” she quips, raising her right hand. “I was able to relocate them.”

  “Heather works for Slayer Inc.,” Dad explains, shooting me a knowing look. “In their fairy division. They help out fairy refugees trying to make it in the real world.”

  I stare at my stepmom, pretty sure my jaw has dropped to the floor at this point. Heather works for Slayer Inc.? And here I thought she was a stripper or something. Also—they have a fairy division?

  “Heather was able to secure us our first apartment in Massachusetts, new jobs, social security numbers—the works,” Mom says, looking over at the woman formerly known as Home Wrecking Bitch with grateful eyes. “She saved all our lives. We wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for her kindness.”

  “And so you went and made a baby with her to show your gratitude?” I query sarcastically.

  Dad’s face turns bright red. He glances over at our mother who is also blushing furiously.

  “Back then even though we were living as humans, we were still thinking like fairies,” she confesses. “And fairies—quite simply—believe in the free expression of love. We’d both grown really close to Heather after she literally saved our lives and so, at the time, it just ... seemed natural, I guess.”

  I stare at her in disbelief. Here I thought Mom was going to be torn apart if she knew of Stormy’s existence. But it turns out she not only knew—she approved of it, too!

  Seriously, fairies are worse than hippies!

  “Of course then I made the mistake of telling one of the PTA mothers about the whole thing,” Mom remembers with a sheepish cringe. “You should have seen the look on her face. I started to worry that we’d done something wrong. Something that would make us stand out as different—maybe even give away our whereabouts to the Light Court. So I told your father he had to stop seeing Heather altogether. And that we could never tell you two the truth about your half sister.”

  “And that’s why Dad ended up leaving with Heather in the end?” I conclude. “He couldn’t deal with being apart from her?”

  But Dad surprises me with a shake of his head. “Not exactly,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of paper. After unfolding it, he hands it over to Sunny and me. I scan through it, my eyes widening at its contents.

  “A contract?” I ask, looking up.

  “About four years ago, our cover was blown and the fairies found us,” he explains. “Your grandmother was still furious at me—a commoner—for taking her daughter away. I begged them to leave us alone and finally she agreed, with one stipulation. I had to step out of the picture.” He hangs his head. “I knew your mother would try to stop me if I told her the situation. And I loved her too much to let her put her own life—and yours—in danger because of me. So I packed up my things and moved to Vegas—with Heather serving once again as my Relocator.” He shook his head. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my entire life.”

  I stare at him in disbelief, my heart in my throat. All these years I’d assumed he’d taken the easy way out. Ditched his family for a younger woman, living the life of luxury while we struggled to move on in a fatherless existence.

  Was it all true? Had he really done it all to protect us?

  Had I been hating my dad all these years for no good reason?

  “I know I missed a lot of birthdays,” Dad adds, his voice thick with regret. “But I didn’t know how much contact they’d allow me without getting angry again. And I didn’t want to inadvertently destroy the wonderful lives your mom had built for you. So I watched from afar and tried to move on, best I could.” His voice chokes on the last sentence. “But I missed you guys so much,” he adds. “Not a day has gone by when I didn’t want to call you or visit ...” He trails off and both Mom and Heather lean over to console him.

  I look over at Sunny, who’s about as wide-eyed as me right about now. In fact, I don’t know which is more surprising: that we’re really descended from fairies or that Dad isn’t quite the bastard we’ve always believed him to be. It’s truly a toss-up, to be honest.

  I decide to concentrate on the fairy part. I need more time to digest the rest. “So Sunny and I are princesses,” I interject. “Then why don’t we have wings? Or, I don’t know, magical powers or something?”

  “Because you’ve never been through the ritual,” Mom explains. “Once a fairy hits puberty, they’re supposed to go through a magical ceremony to kick-start their transformation. It involves a lot of nonsense, like kissing your elbow.”

  “Is that even possible?” Sunny asks, trying to maneuver her arm into elbow-kissing position. Mom’s eyes widen and she roughly grabs my sister by the hand.

  “Sunny, this isn’t something to play around with!” she scolds. “If you become a fairy, there’s no turning back.” She glances at Dad. “Even without our wings, we still retain our powers. Though, of course, we never use them.”

  “Never?” Heather teases, looking straight at our father.

  “Well, just once in a while,” Dad adds, a little sheepishly. “When I can’t find my keys ...”

  Sigh. Does everyone in this freaking world have “powers” except for me?

  “So let me get this straight,” Sunny says, pulling her hand back. “Dad did what they said and now they still want us back?”

  Our father nods.

  “But why do they care? Is there a fairy shortage or something?”

  “In a sense, yes,” Mom replies. “A couple weeks ago, we’re told that Dark Court agents invaded and killed your grandmother, the Light Court queen.”

  Oh my God. “Grandma’s dead?” I cry. “And ... wait ... she was a fairy?”

  Dad and Mom exchange glances. “Actually, the woman who lives down in Florida isn’t your real grandmother,” Dad confesses. “When you two were young, we ... well, we wanted you to still have some sense of extended family. So we hired a few actors to play the parts. Grandma, Aunt Edna ...”

  I swallow hard, feeling my world crash down all around me. Everything I thought I was, everywhere I thought I knew, has all been a lie. My stomach swims and I’m this close to throwing up.

  “In any case,” Dad continues, “the throne of the Light Court is now empty. And they need to crown the next in line.”

  Sunny turns to Mom. “So ... you’re supposed to be the new fairy queen?” she asks, eyes wide.

  “No, Sunny,” Mom replies gently. “You are.”

  2

  “This is so not good. So not good!” Sunny moans as she hits disconnect and sets down her cell phone after leaving her gazillionth message for Magnus to please, please call her. After attending the play, her vampire boyfriend had hopped on his private plane back to New England, where the Blood Coven’s headquarters are. He’d be incommunicado, he’d told her, for at least five hours. At the time, it hadn’t seemed like a big deal; Sunny had assumed she’d spend a peaceful night with Mom and Dad—a rare treat—and then jump on a plane herself the next morning to join him back home.

  Now everything has changed. Our lives have been flipped upside down. And not being able to share the news with Magnus is tearing Sunny apart. My own boyfriend, Jareth, is also traversing the world somewhere without cell phone service, but, to be honest, I am in no great hurry to mention the skeleton wings in our family closet. I mean, fairy princess? Could there be anything more embarrassing for a self-respecting vampire? After all, everyone knows real vampires don’t sparkle.

  After hearing the news, we somehow convinced Mom and Dad to let us out of the condo for a few pr
ecious moments of decompression. We’d found a local diner and gotten a booth, each ordering a cup of coffee to keep the waitress Nazi at bay. I’d have preferred a vodka straight up but unfortunately my fake ID was confiscated last night at the Excalibur and also as a vampire I can’t get drunk, so the spirits would be worthless anyway.

  “Sunny, relax,” I tell my twin as she bangs her head against the table in frustration. I look around and catch the waitress eyeing us suspiciously from across the room. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Sunny looks up, tears streaming down her cheeks. “In what freaking universe do you live that any of this could possibly be okay?” she demands.

  “Uh,” I look down at my mug and notice a faint stain of pink lipstick on the rim. Good point.

  “Why does this keep happening to me?” Sunny wails. “First I get turned into a freaking vampire. Now I find out I’m an effing fairy princess!”

  “At least you’ll probably find the fairy wardrobe preferable,” I mutter, wishing she’d keep her voice down. “Lots of pink?”

  Sunny shoots me a glare.

  “All I want to be is a human.” She sniffs. “A normal, everyday human who grows up and goes to college, gets married, has babies, and lives in a four-bedroom two-and-a-half-baths house with an open kitchen, granite countertops, and a pool out back. Is that so wrong?”

  “It’s pretty specific, but I guess it’s not wrong,” I say, reaching out to her, squeezing her hand. “But you know, Sun, we can’t always get what we want.”

  “Please don’t start quoting Rolling Stones songs. Seriously, I will stake you.”

  I let go of her hand. “Look. You gotta have faith. And no—” I hold up a hand “—I’m not quoting George Michael, so don’t even start. Dad’s working on it and he’s assured us that everything will be okay.”

  “Like how he assured us he’d be there for our birthday last spring?” Sunny asks pointedly. She picks up her cell phone. “I’m going to try Magnus again. Maybe he had a stopover ...”

  I give up, pushing away from the table and throwing a handful of change down for my un-drunk, lipstick-stained mug of coffee. “You know you’re not even supposed to be telling anyone any of this, remember? Dad and Mom were both pretty clear on that. They said it could be dangerous.”

  “It’s not anyone,” Sunny says, phone to ear. “It’s Magnus. If anyone can help, he can.”

  “Of course. All while simultaneously achieving world peace and solving the nation’s financial crisis, I’m sure,” I mutter. To my sister, Magnus is not only coven master, but Superman, Batman, and the Incredible Hulk all rolled into one. “I’m going home.”

  I can hear her scrambling after me as I stalk out of the diner, and another stab of pity bites into my gut. I don’t mean to be short with her—she has every right to be upset about the situation. But I hate that she won’t let me help her. I’m her twin—I’m supposed to be there for her. Yet all she cares about is her stupid boyfriend. Sigh.

  She catches up, but still has the damn phone glued to her ear so I ignore her and cross the street, taking a right into Dad’s condo building. I hear her leave yet another codependent message as she steps into the elevator behind me.

  “I hope he didn’t get in a plane accident,” she comments worriedly as the doors slide close. Argh. If I didn’t love my hair so much, I’d be pulling it out until I was bald right about now.

  As the doors slide open on the seventeenth floor, I grab her by the shoulder and turn her to face me. “Look, I know you’re upset,” I say, my voice as stern as I can make it. “But try to suck it up in front of Mom and Dad, okay? They’re doing all they can and Mom’s clearly freaking out. So don’t go and make her feel even worse.”

  Sunny scowls. “I won’t. Geez. Give me a little credit here.”

  Shaking my head, I push open the apartment door. Dad and Heather are sitting together on the couch with Mom in a nearby chair, eating a big bowl of popcorn and watching that eighties movie Ferris Beuller’s Day Off. Mom bursts out laughing.

  “Oh that Ferris!” she says, giggling. “He’s such a scamp.”

  “Clearly freaking out, huh?” Sunny mutters in my ear.

  “So, uh, what’s the plan anyway?” I ask. Dad grabs the remote and pauses the movie and the three of them look over at us, surprised.

  “Your mother and I are going back to fairyland tomorrow,” Dad says, “to plead our case. You guys are going to stay here with Heather.”

  “What about school?” Sunny asks. “We’re supposed to go back Monday.”

  “Consider it a bonus vacation. I’ll talk to your teachers,” Mom replies.

  “But I’ve got a field hockey game on Tuesday!”

  “Then you’ll have to miss it,” Dad butts in firmly. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go back. It’s not safe.”

  “The court knows where you live,” Heather adds. “Their soldiers have been watching the house. If you hadn’t had that super security system installed, I’m not sure your mom would have gotten out so easily.”

  David. I’ve had my squabbles with Mom’s new boyfriend, but thank goodness he was there for Mom while we were away. I should have never come to Vegas in the first place after he told me she might be in danger. What kind of slayer/daughter does that?

  “Then when can we go home?” Sunny cries, sinking into a nearby chair, her face ashen. I realize she’s back to thinking about Magnus again.

  Mom rises to her feet and goes over to give her a hug. “I don’t know, honey,” she says, smoothing her hair. “But we’re together and that’s the important part. And there’s no way the fairies know we’re here.”

  Suddenly, as if on cue, a weird thundering noise assaults the apartment. Like the buzzing of a thousand bees. I look over to the window and my jaw drops as I see a shirtless man hovering outside, peering in ...

  Beating his wings.

  “Um,” I say, pointing. “Are you sure about that?”

  3

  The window shatters before anyone can answer me. Though to be fair, it was kind of a rhetorical question anyway. I duck, hands over my head, to avoid the raining shards of glass, as six tall winged men float into my stepfamily’s living room, sinking down into the plush white carpet. Each, I might add, armed with flaming swords, unlike any I’ve seen outside an RPG video game.

  The fairies have landed.

  And just FYI, if you’re thinking “fairy” means the kind of lithe, lispy, glittery creature you might find at a David Bowie tribute night, let me set you straight: These guys are built to the max. Broad shoulders, expansive chests, six-pack abs, and muscular legs. At the same time, each one of them is oddly ... pretty, I’d guess you’d say ... with chiseled cheekbones, wide eyes with long lashes, and blindingly white teeth. Like Disney animated princes sporting wings.

  Delicious but deadly.

  A black-haired fairy—the spitting image of Cinderella’s Prince Charming, though a lot more pissed off—steps forward, his flashing dark eyes bearing down on my mother.

  Mom stands her ground, shoulders back, a fierce mama-bear expression taking hold of her usually serene, hippie-chick face. A trill of pride spins down my spine as I watch her stare the big, bad invaders down, ready to protect her cubs at all costs.

  Yeah, take that, fairy man. My mom’s no shrinking violet.

  “Princess Shrinking Violet?” the fairy addresses her.

  Uh ... Well, you know what I mean.

  “Sir Apple Blossom?” Mom replies, through clenched teeth.

  My eyes widen. This is the hottie Mom was supposed to marry back in the day? And she chose Dad over him? I mean, sure, I’m glad she did, seeing as we’d never have been born otherwise, but damn ...

  Apple Blossom continues, “We have come for the girls.”

  I hear a squeak of fear to my left and turn to find a white-faced Sunny hunched up beside me, literally shaking with fright. I grab her by the arm, pulling her close to me.

  No one steals my Sunshine. At least not without g
etting through me first.

  Or my dad, it seems, for that matter. We watch as our father steps protectively in front of us. “I am their father,” he says in a voice that leaves no room for argument. “And you will take them only over my dead body.”

  Wow. For a guy who never remembers to send a birthday card, Dad can really turn up the parental protection vibe to eleven when he feels like it. I glance over at Sunny, who’s staring at our father like she’s never seen him before.

  “Over your dead body?” Apple Crisp smirks. “I think that can be arranged!”

  On cue, his friends unsheathe their flaming swords. Seriously, how is the sprinkler system not going off at this point? If we survive all this, I’m so complaining to building management ...

  “Violet—catch!” Seemingly out of nowhere, my dad somehow manages to produce a pair of swords of his own (though sadly, neither one appears to be on fire) and throws one to my mother, while wielding the other himself. Hippie, dippy Mom—who is always lambasting Mario Brothers as too violent a video game—catches the blade with ease, like she’s freaking Lara Croft or something. Behind her stands Heather, who has also somehow managed to commandeer a sharp-looking sword. Where do they get these wonderful toys?

  “Sunny! Rayne! Run!” Mom cries, without turning around.

  What?! I can’t run. After all, I’m a slayer. Not to mention a vampire. And I guess, if you want to be technical, a fairy to boot. There’s no way I’m bowing out of this fight.

  I consider searching the evidently well-stocked luxury condo/ armory for another secret sword, but then get a better idea. As Mom, Dad, and Heather engage the fairies, I dive across the room to my purse. Digging in, I toss away Caesar’s Palace poker chips, orange gum, and a really cool Living Dead Doll I found at a small Goth shop way off the Strip, looking for the pièce de résistance.

  My stake.