Strength

by W. J. May

  “This is incredible,” Evie breathed, peering once more outside her window.

  It was like they’d entered some kind of puzzle, an elaborate labyrinth of twisting rope bridges that led from one magnificent treehouse to the next. Her mother once told her she’d been to a settlement like it—when she’d met Ellanden’s great-grandmother for the first time. She’d gushed about the warmth and vibrancy before muttering something about a deranged panther and turning in early for bed. As usual, Evie selectively remembered only the parts she wanted to hear, but even after having imagined such a place for so many years...the reality was blowing her mind.

  “Why did Ellanden never take us with him?” she murmured almost to herself. “He went for the beginning of every summer, but he always made it sound like such a drag.”

  On the one hand, she could almost see why. The steamy Kreo jungle was nothing like the ivory palace the prince called home. Between the mud, the dwarves, and the inherently imperious nature of a fae she could see him being resistant to the idea. Throw in a dead bat or two and he might flat-out refuse. But she’d seen something else on his face when he watched those children running by. The same tender nostalgia as when he’d smelled the wildflowers for the first time.

  Like it or not—a part of this was home.

  “I think he was embarrassed,” Cosette replied, coming to stand beside her at the window. “I remember asking him what it was like once when we were kids, but he wouldn’t really say. Just that it was hot and loud— everything you might expect from people who decorated themselves in bones.”

  Evie laughed under her breath. “Yeah, that sounds like Ellanden.”

  “But I know he missed it when he came back to Taviel,” Cosette added suddenly. “I walked in on him chanting one time—holding this weird necklace in his hand. He stuffed it under his bed and threatened to cut off my hair if I ever told anyone.”

  The princess rolled her eyes with a smile. “That sounds like him, too.”

  “I don’t know what in the world he’d be embarrassed about,” Freya exclaimed, examining herself in the mirror. “This is hands-down the greatest place I’ve ever seen!”

  The young witch had fully embraced the lifestyle of the Kreo—more specifically the wardrobe. The second they closed the door of their room, she ripped off her clothes and began adorning herself with the same leather bands the rest of them wrapped around their bodies. A generous selection of clawed jewelry was soon to follow. She could no longer find her shoes.

  Both Evie and Cosette wanted very much to tease her.

  Except they’d done the exact same thing.

  How scandalized they’d be at the palace, if anyone could see them. The two princess of the High Kingdom decked out like jungle gladiators. Their old governess would faint dead away.

  “I won’t say it’s comfortable...but it’s easy to move around in.” Cosette sliced her arms in a wide circle, mimicking the motions of shooting a bow. “I could definitely hunt in this.”

  Evie laughed, while Freya rolled her eyes—shoving the fae onto a chair so she could begin braiding her hair. “Yeah, because that’s totally what the Kreo had in mind when they started wearing these things. That it would be easier to hunt.”

  Evie pursed her lips, fiddling with the claws hanging from her neck. “They were probably thinking it was stiflingly hot—”

  Freya held up a hand, unwilling to listen. Instead she turned her full attention to the fae, twisting tiny braids into her long hair. “Seth was looking at you again today.”

  Cosette visibly tensed, looking away from the mirror.

  “Seth almost drowned like the rest of us,” she said dismissively. “He’s probably just thanking the gods he’s still alive—”

  “He’ll be thanking them for a little more than that when he sees you in this tonight,” Freya interrupted coyly, putting the final touches to the fae’s hair. “In fact, I’d be very surprised if he doesn’t ask to come back to your room.”

  Evie snorted with laughter, while Cosette’s face went cold.

  “Silence, witch.”

  “I’m just saying—”

  “Perhaps if you spent more time on your own dalliances, you’d realize that Ellanden wasn’t looking at you. He never does. And I highly doubt that ferret you’re wearing will change that.”

  Freya’s eyes flashed in anger before she glanced suddenly at the bones circling her wrist. “Wait...this was a ferret?”

  And that’s my cue to leave.

  Evie slipped out while they were still arguing, shutting the door silently behind her. The sun had set about an hour before and torches had been lit along the swinging pathway. She wandered aimlessly for a while before coming to a place she remembered from when Eli had escorted them to their chambers. While all of the friends were sharing a room, Asher had been given one of his own.

  She knocked lightly on the door, listening intently to the other side. It was no use. There was no way of tracking a vampire once they decided to move. One moment Asher was standing thoughtfully by the window, the next he was standing in the frame.

  “Everly.”

  It came out as almost a gasp as he looked her up and down. His eyes dilated slightly, resting on certain parts before returning almost feverishly to her face.

  For a long moment, they just stood there. Then the princess cleared her throat.

  “...can I come in?”

  He flushed with embarrassment and pulled open the door. “Of course. Sorry.”

  She swept past him, secretly thrilled with his reaction but trying awfully hard to act casual. His room looked very much the same as hers, minus the teenage girls threatening each other with bodily harm. The window opened onto a stunning view of the jungle, a warm breeze swaying the trees.

  “I didn’t mean to surprise you.” She turned around to face him. “I just wanted to...” Her gaze fell on the Kreo clothes still lying on his bed. “...get you for the feast.”

  A single look at his face said it all.

  “You’re not coming, are you?”

  He hesitated, worried about disappointing her, then shook his head with a sigh. “I don’t think anyone would like to see me there—vampire at a feast. Besides,” he glanced down at himself self-consciously, “I’m not really in the best state.”

  When the friends had arrived at the camp, none of them was at their best. If it wasn’t the injuries they’d sustained in the shipwreck and from the Carpathians before, most all of them had suffered from mild heatstroke upon washing up on the beach. Fortunately, the resident coven of witches had cured such maladies with a healing elixir. Unfortunately, the vampire couldn’t partake.

  The princess bypassed her first question to ask her second.

  “Wait—what do you mean? What’s wrong with you?”

  Before he could answer she swept forward, lifting her fingers to the hem of his shirt. He stiffened slightly as she rolled it up his stomach, pulling it over his head with a gasp.

  “Asher...”

  There wasn’t an inch of him that wasn’t marked—whether it be bruises, or lacerations, or the kind of discoloration that made her wonder if the witches’ light had burned his skin. Beyond that, there was everything you’d expect to find from a survivor of a shipwreck. Plus a little more.

  “It isn’t that bad,” he deflected quickly, grabbing unsuccessfully for his shirt.

  She ignored him completely, running the tips of her fingers over his skin. “Why aren’t these healing?”

  He tried to shrug, but it was too painful. Instead, he simply picked up his shirt.

  “I’m sure they will,” he said evasively. “It’s just taking a little longer.”

  He was about to add something stupid, like, ‘maybe it’s the heat’. But his girlfriend wasn’t like most people. She’d grown up around vampires. His lies and deflections seldom worked.

  Her eyes traveled twice between his chest and the dark circles under his eyes before lighting with sudden understanding. “You need to feed.�
�

  He shook his head, trying to stop her.

  “Hang on—”

  “What are you waiting for?” she interrupted, grabbing him by the hand. “It’s a feast, Ash. I’m sure they’ll have something.”

  “I don’t need—”

  “I don’t care how weird you are about eating in front of other people.” She towed him towards the door. “These people are weird, too, all right? This is no time to be squeamish.”

  “Evie, stop—”

  “Quit stalling.” She yanked open the door. “We’re going to be—”

  He slammed it shut again, wrenching himself free.

  “I’m not going to the feast!”

  She blinked up at him, falling quiet.

  “Evie, I...” He moved away from her, too ashamed to look her in the face. “This isn’t healing because I need something stronger.”

  Silence fell between them, broken only by the princess’ quiet, “...oh.”

  Her mother had spoken of this as well. The blood of animals could only sustain a vampire; it wasn’t powerful enough to heal, not when it came to injuries as grave as these. With a spike of panic, she suddenly wondered why Asher didn’t want to go to the feast. Was he worried about the way people might look at him? Or was he worried about the way they might look to him?

  A ripple of fear washed over her. But she squared her shoulders and looked into his eyes.

  “So drink something stronger.”

  He stared for a moment before his face whitened with shock. “...what?”

  They had done it once before. Only once. And only to resurrect him from the brink of death after a kelpie had tried to drown him in a river. To suggest doing it again?

  “Evie, this will get better,” he said hastily, snatching the shirt from her hands and sliding it back over his head. “It will just take—”

  “Time?” she finished sarcastically. “Time that we don’t have?”

  He shook his head quickly, avoiding her eyes. “This isn’t casual—”

  “And I’m not offering casually,” she interrupted again, stepping towards him. “You need help, Asher. Let me help you.”

  Their eyes met for a split second, then he turned away.

  “I...I can’t,” he said quickly. Too quickly. His eyes had flickered to her neck. “We’ve talked about stuff like this before. You know that I’d never—”

  “You already have,” she said plainly, sweeping her hair off her neck. When he didn’t move, she let out a theatrical sigh. “Look, I’m just going to stand here until you do it, so you might as well not make us late for the feast. They might have kabobs.”

  He stared at her a moment, then laughed in spite of himself. The curtains fluttered as he closed the distance between them, wrapping a hand behind her head. A shiver swept across her skin as he leaned closer. Her eyes fluttered shut and she pulled in a breath.

  ...then he pressed a gentle kiss to her neck.

  “I don’t have to do it there,” he said softly. “It’s more painful.” He reached down and took her hand, smoothing it flat with a conflicted expression. “Are you sure?” At this point, he was talking to himself as much as her. His eyes swept over her soft skin, and he shook his head slightly. “I don’t want to do this...”

  “You don’t have a choice,” she answered quietly, lifting her wrist. “Come on. Drink.” She paused suddenly as an unexpected truth rose to the surface. “...I want you to.”

  His eyes flashed up with a heated expression, locking onto hers in the dark. Another prickle of fear danced across her skin but she lifted her wrist even higher, pressing it to his lips.

  A second later, she felt his fangs.

  They sliced cleanly through her skin, puncturing a vein as his lips closed in a dark sort of kiss. Her head swam immediately when she felt the sudden pressure, but this time she kept her eyes wide open—determined to feel every bit of it.

  It wasn’t like she had a choice. It was pure sensation.

  Her breathing hitched as he drank deeper, wrapping his other hand instinctively around her arm. A warm tingling sensation followed his every move, hooking deep in her stomach as she took a step closer, winding her fingers through his dark hair.

  His eyes closed with a quiet moan and things started moving faster.

  She was suddenly aware of his clothes. She was suddenly aware of her own. She suddenly wanted, very much, to take them all off. Asher seemed to be thinking the same thing.

  Without ever breaking their connection, he started walking backwards—leading them to the bed. She stumbled after him, a willing prisoner, climbing on top of him as he lay down.

  The tug on her wrist became sharper. The tingling faded and her arm began to go numb.

  The world tilted suddenly as Asher flipped them over—pressing her into the mattress so he was lying on top. His teeth dug in with a little growl, but his hands never stopped moving. They fought briefly with the leather straps of her new shirt before tearing clean through them and tossing it to the floor. Her pants were soon to follow. His clothes were already gone.

  This is happening. I can’t believe—

  Her head spun suddenly and she pushed weakly against his chest.

  “Ash...”

  He stopped at once, pulling back with his mouth dripping red. The sight of it was enough to startle her out of her trance. She leaned back with a shiver. A second later she picked up her shirt.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, lifting a hand to cover his fangs. “Evie, I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s fine,” she said just as fast, wishing that for once he wasn’t able to hear the erratic pounding of her heart. “We should get to the feast. We don’t want to be late.”

  He froze for a moment, naked and panting, then pushed off the bed in one lithe motion, sweeping his own clothes off the floor. She shot a secret look at him in the mirror.

  His skin was already healed. Hers would take longer.

  They dressed quickly and headed for the door—drowning in the silence, unable to say a word. A second before she could pull it open he stepped in front, staring in a quiet panic.

  “Please tell me we’re okay,” he begged. “I didn’t realize that was going too far. I thought this was always the plan. I mean, we had talked about it...”

  When she didn’t say anything, that panic increased tenfold.

  “Evie, I never would have done anything if I thought you didn’t want to—”

  She shook her head quickly, eyes prickling with secret tears.

  “It wasn’t too far. It was fine. Let’s just...let’s just get to the feast, okay?”

  He stared a moment longer then stepped silently out of the way, holding open the door as she slipped outside. The evening breeze chilled her flushed skin, and for the first time since arriving at the village she wished she was wearing more clothes.

  “After you,” Asher said quietly, gesturing to the path with a lifeless smile.

  She rushed past him, wiping a secret tear as she started to cry.

  The problem wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to.

  The problem was that she had.

  Chapter 10

  By the time Evie and Asher made it to the clearing, the feast had already started.

  Several wide tables had been dragged into the center of the grass, sagging with the weight of every imaginable kind of food. And what looked like the entire village was gathered noisily around them—eating, laughing, and drinking without a care in the world.

  Eli hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d implied there weren’t many of them. The entire community could fit into a single wing of her father’s palace. Evie studied them carefully, well aware that she was being studied herself.

  There were several obvious standouts—nixies, pixies, dwarves, and a handful of nymphs that were emblems of the supernatural community and impossible to hide. From what she knew about the magical heritage of the Kreo, she was guessing the rest of them was an assortment of witches, warlocks, and shifters. Witc
hes, in particular, seemed to dominate the rest of the group.

  It might have been a limited community, but it was a happy one.

  A pair of young men with fiddles weaved their way casually throughout the party, pausing every now and then to steal a sip of wine. Old dwarves gulped ale with their beards dragging on the ground, while all the children who’d been playing were now dancing around the roaring bonfire, throwing in handfuls of pinecones and shrieking with delight at the accompanying shower of sparks.

  Given the parade of horrors to which the friends had become accustomed, it was like coming up for a breath of fresh air.

  Then why am I still shaking?

  The princess spotted her friends immediately and made a bee-line right for them. Even amidst the colorful assortment of company, they tended to stand out. Perhaps because Freya was doing her best imitation of a Carpathian warlord. Perhaps because Ellanden was the only person at the entire party who was still stubbornly wearing shoes.

  Evie flashed a quick smile and sat down beside him, pretending not to notice as Asher seated himself in silence on the opposite side of the table. They hadn’t spoken since leaving his room. Not a single word. It was new territory for them. The fae would prove a natural buffer.

  “Really getting into the spirit of things, are we?” she teased.

  Ellanden flashed her a cold look. “Not all of us must pretend to be savages.” But he did a double-take in spite of himself. “You look hot.”

  She laughed shortly, relieved to be back on familiar ground. “Thanks.”

  Seth lowered his voice conspiratorially, leaning across the table. “The fae might not have embraced the wardrobe, but he does approve of the whiskey.” He picked up a flagon and poured the princess a glass. “I’ve been told you’ll feel the same.”

  She picked it up gratefully, throwing it back like a shot. “Keep them coming...”

  Unlike the fae the shifter had immersed seamlessly into Kreo culture, and she had to say it suited him very well. He was topless save for a pair of leather bands around his arms, and his tanned skin glowed like honey in the light of the fire. Two crimson suns had been painted on his chest and his dark hair was strung with decorative braids, brushing the tops of his shoulders.