by Carol Oates
black, and I could see nothing beyond the shadow of the hand directly in front of me.
“She’s found us,” he murmured.
Sally? My gut told me to call out to her, but his hand pressed to my mouth so firmly I couldn’t suck in a breath. My cries were muffled and distressed. I pushed at his shoulder, trying in vain to force him away. I couldn’t. Only one of my hands was capable of any pressure, and regardless, I may as well have been pushing against a stone wall. His other hand was at my back, his fingers splayed out over my lower spine, holding me against him. Regan shushed me again, but I paid no attention because my heart was thundering. All I could smell was him — the heady, hot, spicy fragrance. His touch seemed to burn right through me into my bones, making my entire being malleable, allowing him to mold me to anything he wanted. Conflicting emotions once again gripped me. I wanted to fight him at the same time that I wanted his hold to tighten and never let me go. This is it, I thought, I am another foolish human seduced by the Fae. I ran to my death, seduced by the revered creature that had the ability to strike fear into the hearts of the bravest men.
He hushed me quietly, so close that his mouth brushed against my hair, and all the fight seeped out of me like a sponge that had been squeezed. I sagged against him, angry and confused at both my behavior and his. That was when I heard the rustling.
It was just like before, when the air moved through the forest, making sounds like whispers. They grew quickly, and when Regan removed his fingers from my lips, I didn’t want to cry out. Instead I craved the strange warmth that came from his skin, the security I felt this close to him, and the gentleness he’d showed me moments ago. The whispering grew louder, more intense, and I knew it was a warning, but I couldn’t understand the words. Regan looked up, darting his eyes around anxiously, and I realized he could. The tightness of his jaw and his rushed breathing told me whatever he heard wasn’t good. Suddenly, instead of fighting him, I was clinging to him.
Regan’s eyes began to glow again. It scared me and reminded me of fire, dancing and swirling, moving in a depthless space, something so attractive but deadly. The only thing I felt sure of was that Regan, whatever his reasons, wanted to look after me…at least for now.
“We have to go,” he murmured urgently, almost soundlessly.
“Go where?” I asked, ignoring the pin pricks of doubt stabbing at my consciousness. I had to make a decision: stay out here alone or flee with Regan, possibly even deeper into the forest.
He looked down at me, and it was almost impossible to return his gaze. I ended up blinking repeatedly because I feared I might be sucked into the whirlpool of blue. It felt so weird and wonderful and so familiar at the same time. Regan stroked his fingers down my cheek and caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger softly.
“I will not lose you,” he swore; it was impassioned with an unmistakable underlying fear that suggested he wasn’t all that confident in his own words.
I didn’t have more than a split second to contemplate it before his lips were on mine. An explosion of excitement rushed over my skin, and energy zapped through me. Every nerve in my body came alive, thrilling at the sensation of the soft pressure against my mouth.
I had never been kissed before, and at first my body was rigid and my eyes flew wide open in shock. It was so dark and getting darker, as if a cloak of black velvet had been wrapped around us. His hand slipped from my chin, tracing a line over my jaw and down my throat, over my shoulder. My lips were unyielding, simply measuring the pressure, the softness of his lips, the taste that invaded my head, making everything cloudy. By the time both his arms were encircling me in his warmth, my eyes had fluttered closed and my lips had relaxed and parted. The air around us grew viscous, thick with heat that spun around me. There was pressure everywhere, not only where Regan held me. It was if I was being squeezed through a vortex, sucked away from the reality where I should be fearing for my life, to a lovely, soft, marshmallow world where nothing else existed except Regan.
It was the sound of crashing waves and the salty fragrance of water and sand that brought me back. When I pulled away, I staggered and was once again thankful for Regan’s strong hands. My gut twisted and seized, and my mouth watered. I swallowed nausea down hard, but it was too late; my empty stomach revolted, spewing yellow fluid onto the rocky ground.
“It’s okay.” Regan held my hair back offering soothing words. “It will be over in a moment. Your body isn’t used to travelling through the veils.”
I realized quickly that I was kneeling on unforgiving, rocky ground that pressed sharply into my knees, but the retching was too harsh for me to care. My arms wrapped around my body, and Regan stroked my back which made it a little better. I hate being ill.
“Where have you taken me?” I demanded. My voice was weak and my throat burned.
“It isn’t a place; it isn’t anywhere. We are between,” he explained calmly, assisting me sit up on a low, ridged rock.
It was damp but surprisingly not cold, as I imagined cave rock should be. It was bright as day with a pinkish glow to the light that I could only imagine came from the entrance. I could hear the sea. For the first time, I saw Regan in his full magnificence. He was beautiful. His skin was smooth and flawless as polished stone with the palest warm tint of color over his cheeks. Every perfection I thought I saw before was amplified and exaggerated. He was, ascetically, an impeccable specimen of a human boy, too perfect. His perfection and radiance gave him away as something as far removed from a human boy as a bird is to a wild boar.
His brow was furrowed with three deep lines, and I had an inexplicable urge to run my thumb across the lines to smooth them. I clenched my fist, digging my nails into my palm.
“I want to go home,” I said. There was a bitter taste in my mouth, and my ribs ached as if my heart was a hammer chipping away at them. It had to be well past midnight by now. Even so, I knew my father would be snoring, unperturbed by my absence.
When Regan pulled me to him, I didn’t resist or attempt to hide the sob that escaped. “Please take me home.” I breathed in the fragrance that was fast becoming a comfort to me and leaned my throbbing head against his shoulder.
The soft pressure of his lips against my head was unmistakable. I closed my eyes and pulled myself closer. Although my conscious mind remained suspicious, my subconscious refused to acknowledge he was a danger. Something was chasing me, and Regan was going out of his way to protect me from it. He’d been kind, comforting, and gentle. I longed for the familiarity of my own bed and my own room, but there was also a profound desire inside me to stay with Regan. It was the ivy that attached itself to the front of our house, growing and spreading, creeping in, and taking root in every crevice of my being. It intensified with every kind word, every soothing touch, and every look into his eyes. I could sense the weight of emotions he tried to convey, but I didn’t understand.
“I think I need some air.” I wasn’t sure if it was a request or a statement. I didn’t know any longer if I was a prisoner or a precious bounty.
“Of course.” Regan stood and helped me to my feet but shockingly lost his footing and swayed.
It was my turn to catch him. He was a lot bigger than me and, from what I could feel, made up of solid muscle beneath his smooth skin. He was clearly trying not to lean too heavily on me as I helped him sit back down, but he failed miserably. It quickly registered that he was trembling and had developed a sheen of perspiration across his forehead.
“I’m sorry. I thought I could last longer,” he apologized sheepishly.
“What is it?” I asked, completely forgetting I was equally as ill a few moments ago. I brushed my hand across his head and down the side of his flushed cheek with no idea why I wanted to look after him instead of running like any sane person would do.
“It’s the salt,” he croaked, holding onto my arms for support even though he was sitting. “I will be much better shortly.”
“I thought…” I paused, not quite able to bring myself t
o say the words, knowing it would make this real. It certainly felt real. But there was always the slightest chance I was simply delusional. Saying it out loud would make it undeniably true somehow. “Your kind only have an aversion to salt…I thought it couldn’t hurt you.”
He raised his eyebrows, and despite his obvious weakness, a smile lifted one corner of his lips. “That’s what we want humans to believe. It wouldn’t do us any good to give all our weaknesses away now, would it?”
“I guess not,” I agreed. “Then why would you bring me here if it makes you weak?”
He struggled to stand again and gave up when it seemed his legs weren’t ready to hold him yet. He sank back down onto the rock with a groan. “She won’t follow us here. She can’t abide having her power drained this way. Here we are closer to human than ourselves. We can’t stay long either, but for now this is the safest place I can think of.”
I looked at his pallid face and touched his cheek again. His eyes closed, and he exhaled a warm breath that fanned across my face as leaned into the palm of my hand. He appeared so helpless and had sacrificed himself to keep me safe from his own sister. The thought caused a twinge of something in my chest. It stirred warmth inside me and bled outward toward my extremities, reminding me of