by Eli Constant
The air in the room is getting heavy now. Heavier. Colder. The lights above us have dimmed. Not because of the electricity, but because of what is happening.
The anti-ether is readying itself to welcome a new acquisition.
“Dominique, stop! I know you loved your wife, your children! You’ll never see them again if you go to that darkness. They’ll be lost to you forever.” I’m shouting against the weight of the world around me. It slams down on my body like it is an elephant stood atop me.
This time, when he speaks, there is no struggle. He appears in front of me, nearly fully-formed yet transparent. “They are already lost forever!” He screams, his corporeal jaw dropping like a snake ready to swallow me whole. He rushes forward and through me, lifting me off the ground so that only the tips of my shoes touch the floor.
And then Liam is yelling. “Blood of the Earth and Spirit. Power of the very nature that draws you. Be released.” He slams his hand down on the salt, ruining all of his hard work. The glowing salt and blood lift into the air as if carried on wind. The particles swirl, the liquid floats in tiny mesmeric orbs. They room about the room with a shining force that lifts the elephant weight from my chest. They kiss my body and banish the hold the near-wraith has on me. I’m lowered to the ground with a strange gentleness.
And then the magic of salt and crimson is a hurricane, funneling and pulling Dominique’s spirit into the center. Liam comes to kneel beside me, placing his arm around my shoulders. I lean on him unconsciously. He feels so safe as I watch the giant storm manhandle the damaged spirit, but leave everything else in the parlor untouched.
Slowly, the glowing salt begins to darken. Ash. Then gunmetal gray. Then charcoal. It still glimmers, but with an obsidian blackness now. The smallest of disturbances in reality ripples across the floor. The anti-ether waiting on its prize.
But it does not get the spirit. Only the impure salt empties down into that pit of gloom. And left behind, when reality is righted and the storm is gone, is the innocent, harmless glow of a spirit without unfinished business, without the burden of a murdered family.
I can see his face, shining between wispy waves of pewter smoke. Tears are rolling down his face. He is broken, broken but free.
Spirits are not ghosts. Ghosts are not spirits. But this is the ghost of a man, a man that was. With nothing left to stay on this Earth for. As I think it, reality wrinkles again. And this time, instead of everlasting torment, Dominique is offered the quietude of the ether. And, hopefully, there is a beautiful promise beyond that for him and the family he will soon see.
Because I have to believe he will see them. That he will kiss his wife and hold his children again.
***
“What was that?” I breathe out as Liam helps me stand. My first instinct is to get a broom to clean up all the salt that must be absolutely everywhere, but there is not one particle of salt anywhere to be seen. It has all been pulled into the dark place.
“Magic.” Liam’s voice is flirty and teasing. Playful obtuseness is basically his go-to.
“Really? No way.” I roll my eyes and walk away from him to pick up the salt container on the floor. “Seriously, I want to know. That was… amazing. Can I do that? With my powers? Or is it something to do with fairy blood?”
“Sounds like it’s lesson time.” Liam grins and quirks an eyebrow. “I imagine Kyle has missed our bosom chats over coffee and an endless array of information he’ll never understand. Being basically an animal. I wonder when he’ll hibernate? I was surprised he stayed up all winter.”
“Liam, shut up.” I sigh out, exasperated. “There won’t be any more lessons if you can’t get it through your head that I’m with Kyle. You had your chance.” What I didn’t say was: even though I know you left me to protect me and it’s really not fair to be mad at you for disappearing. You know, because I’m trying to avoid those pesky mixed symbols.
One look at Liam told me he didn’t need me to say what I was thinking. He already knew. And that made me even more cross with the handsome son-of-a-bitch fairy.
“Tori!” A thick-with-emotion voice yells and, shortly after, there’s the distinct sound of a fist banging on the door that leads to the hallway and stairs. The second entrance into the Victorian, the way I typically go if the business is locked up and I’m doing ‘life’ stuff instead of ‘work’ stuff. Of course, my work is nonstop. Because I’m connected to the afterlife, tethered. Steel cables wrap around my wrists, ankles, midsections and they reach into the different planes of existence.
“Coming!” I call back, walking swiftly over to the locked heavy wood door that bars the stairs from the parlor. Throwing the deadbolt, I pull open the door to find Kyle leaning against the door frame, breathing heavily. The ghost of brown fur is flowing across his skin, yet he’s also pale. “Kyle.” His name is a rushed whisper against my lips. “Are you okay?”
He staggers forward and I reach out to steady him. Of course, he’s nearly twice my size. As I begin to buckle under the weight, I feel Liam behind me, his body barely touching mine. His arms come around me and his hands grip the larger man.
“Let’s get him to the mourning room,” I say, beginning to shuffle my feet backwards. Liam moves with me. Kyle drags his feet across the ground like a zombie, moaning my name as his head rests against my shoulder. It feels like it’s been hours once we finally enter the room with the burgundy furniture. Liam and I have to maneuver our bodies to push Kyle between us so that we can set him down gently. He’s trying to help, but he’s weak and fighting beast-mode.
“I felt you,” Kyle stumbles over the words, his voice deep and tortured. “Are you okay?” He’s suffering, but all he wants to know is if I’m okay. I wonder about the bond between us, that he’d put my well-being over his own. Then again, if you really love someone, isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be anyways?
“I’m fine, Kyle. Liam was here. He took care of it.” When I say Liam’s name, the fur that has been threatening officially sprouts, becoming a full kiss of hair across his skin. His eyes flash silver before settling back into a warm brown.
“Liam took care of it.” Kyle’s voice is so strained. It deepens with every syllable. “It should be me.” The last is an absolute growl, the animal overtaking the man.
“Victoria, I think we should give Kyle some breathing room.” Liam’s hand comes to rest on my shoulder. And Kyle’s Beserker eyes shift to see it. He growls and bursts off the sofa. Liam pulls me back.
“Kyle, it’s okay. I’m right here.” His Beserker form turns towards me, the body held in a defensive position—the shoulders pulled back, the arms bent with fists, the feet spread in a fighter’s stance. I’ve only seen him in beast mode a few times, when Liam is trying to teach him how to control the animal instead of being controlled by it and the few times his animal has activated to save me. “Breathe through it, Kyle. Remember, the beast is part of you, you are not just the beast.”
I repeat the words Liam has said more than once whilst trying to help Kyle. I say them, but I worry I don’t mean them. Because right now, in this moment, he looks all beast.
Chapter Eight
“Kyle, you have to pull it together.” I hold my hands up, palms towards the giant bear man who is not thinking like a human being at all right now. “Liam, stop touching me. I think it’s making things worse.”
“Victoria, I don’t think that’s wise. We should—”
I cut him off. “I don’t care what you think, Liam. Move away from me.”
Reluctantly, Liam’s hands move from my body, from where he’d been gripping me around the waist after pulling me back from Kyle’s savage form. Instantly, I can see a softness around his eyes. A look of humanity. “Better?” I ask, moving forward a little, my hands still outstretched towards him. From experience, I know the fur across his skin is soft and fine to the touch. I’m almost to him, almost able to touch. I hold his gaze, will him to look at me and only me.
“Victoria, this isn’t safe. A
n out-of-control Beserker can do much damage, even to the person with which he’s bonded.” Liam moves closer to me again, I can feel the wind stir at my back and a burst of power that tells me he’s going fae form to meet the power of Kyle’s bear form.
“Stop, Liam. Let me handle this.”
I hear a sigh behind me, and I think he’s resigned himself to listening to me. I’m wrong. “I’m sorry, my Queen. But your life is too precious to play with.”
I gasp as his arms wrap around my body again. He yanks me away from Kyle fast and without hesitation. And Kyle roars. Roars like the world will shatter at the sound. His great body bends, nearly falling to all fours, and he rushes towards us. The man is completely swallowed now; the bones of him are animal.
Liam lifts me over his shoulders, which should be awkward considering my bum is three times the size of his head when I bend over, but it’s somehow graceful. He runs me out the open door, and it’s so fast my hair is whipping around my face in mahogany chaos. Beserker Kyle is still roaring like a mountain lion caught in a claw trap. He fills the frame of the open door moments later, his head rotating back and forth, trying to find me. Or Liam. I’m not sure now. I try to push a sense of calm through my mind, and over my body. I wonder if it will help Kyle in his animal-form realize that I’m okay.
Every second takes us further from the house. Liam is so fast. The white ghost of a deer through the woods, his fae form like a beacon for anyone to follow. I wonder why Kyle hasn’t seen us running, why he hasn’t immediately chased after the wisp of paleness flitting through the darkness.
He can’t see us, Liam’s voice comes to life in my mind. I’ve shielded our presence.
That makes sense, is all I can think back as his movements bounce my body around on his shoulder. He’s not the largest man, not like Kyle. He’s tall, but compactly built. A runner’s body, which is made more apparent by the way he’s whisking me to safety.
There’s a bellow of anger in the distance, but it’s not as far away as I’d have expected, given how fast we’re moving.
He can, however, smell us. His voice is grim as he thinks the words at me.
Great. Super glad I’m wearing that flowered-to-hell perfume he bought me.
Do not worry. We are almost somewhere he cannot track us.
I want to ask where we’re going, but mere moments pass before my unasked question is answered. Liam comes to a halt in front of a large tree, so large that I could not even half surround it with my arms. He sets me down, making sure I’m steady on my feet. I’m fine, save for a wedgie. Even with perfectly-fitting panties, a girl with a large rear gets ride up.
Liam places his palm on the tree and whispers something I can’t make out. My jaw drops as little rivers cut into the bark begin to glow. It’s like a pixie crest. I didn’t know fairies did this too.
“It certainly is not like a pixie crest,” Liam scoffs, turning to look at me. “It is a cloaking spell to safeguard a rip in reality. If anything, pixies took this idea from the full-blooded fae.”
“Full-blooded?” I touch the bark where things are glowing and I startle as my fingers sink into the tree, which should be hard and unyielding. “Holy crap.” I push my hand further until I’m nearly disappeared to the elbow.
“Are you quite done?” Liam asks, his voice playful.
“Erhm,” biting my bottom lip, I pull my hand back. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I just thought we should get to safety before Kyle gets any closer.” He tilts his head, closing his eyes, whispering again. “He’s not far now.”
A short while ago, during one of their ‘training’ sessions, Kyle had pushed Liam clear across the room, slamming him into a pedestal and vase. The vase had broken. The pedestal needed wood repair. Liam had been bleeding. His blood—then, when it had looked normal and without the glow of power like I’d recently seen—had gotten on my hand. It had rushed through me like an aphrodisiac and knocked me backwards. Yet, I could not sense him like I could Mei. I do not get the pangs in my heart when he is in need of help.
Likewise, I cannot feel Kyle. Though that is because I’ve never held his blood within the palm of my power. I need to change that. Maybe if my power touched him in that way, I could reach him on another level. I could feel what he was feeling right now. Our metaphysical connection between necromancer and Beserker was different than my own magic as Blood Queen. I had to find a way to help him through this, not just be on the sidelines as Liam pushed him to control his animal.
Heavy, bestial breathing comes to life then, too close for comfort. “And that, my Queen, signals our departure.” He grips my body and shoves me gently in front of him. Walking through the tree feels strange, like the way your toes feel wriggling in sand at the beach, except all over your entire body, pulsing through your clothing to rub against your skin like sandpaper… but pleasant sandpaper. Silky sandpaper. The sort you finish a project with and it glides with very little friction across the wood.
I know that Liam’s behind me, but he’s also lost to me as I filter through the magical barrier towards whatever place awaits. I can focus on nothing save for the feel of my skin as it tingles and sparks.
Air greets my hand first, as the sands of reality release me into the new space. Once I am fully free, the sensation of no longer being touched is a memory lost against my body. I want it back, the way I want a heavy and comforting blanket after a hard day.
Liam appears behind me. He does a full body shake, as if he too is still feeling the aftereffects of the barrier. Yet, unlike me, he does not seem to enjoy the sensation.
I stare at him a little while longer, as he shakes off the experience I’ve found fascinating. Then for the first time, I take in the place we’ve entered.
The room has cathedral ceilings, fingers of vines reaching towards huge expanses of stained glass skylights. Pale light transformed into a prismatic art show filters into the room. Spinning slowly, I find a rustic fire place burning with blue light and two deep sapphire chairs sat cozily in the mix of firelight and dancing glass. A nook is hidden in the corner of the space, if it can be called a corner since the entire room is made of arcs and angles and the oddest little crannies, and it is a wonderland of ancient-looking books piled up haphazardly. It’s exactly how a true book connoisseur would operate. Leaning towers of devoured books, and those living too long in the to-be-read piles.
As if my eyes have been avoiding it, they reluctantly move to gaze at the large circular bed with the canopy from which hangs gauzy blue material and more vines that have grown and mingled with the fabric. There is also a small kitchen area that looks like something out of a fairytale. Slices of thick, dark bread sits on a chipped clay platter. Beside that is deeply yellow butter and an open jar of what looks to be marmalade. A bowl of fruit is next to the sink, apples bright red and nearly neon green.
“What is this?” I finally ask.
“I have to have somewhere to live, Victoria.” Liam answers without inflection. I am glad, though, that the formality of ‘queen’ has gone for now. “And I needed to be close to you. There weren’t exactly many homes for rent or purchase in your tiny town. Besides, I need to be… incognito.”
“Around humans?” I move further into the room, towards the bed and the puffy comforter that looks so cozy. It’s been such a long day, and I feel safe in this odd fairy hideaway.
“No. I can handle the humans.” Liam hesitates, then speaks in a low voice that threads through the room with enough force to hit me in the heart. “I have to remain under the radar so that my king does not find me. I would, as it were, like to stay alive.”
My legs are concrete, but I force myself to turn around and face him. I know I am slack-jawed, my face giving away what I’m thinking. I hadn’t thought about that. I hadn’t thought about all the ways he’s having to change his living simply because he loves me. He’s lost his home. His king. He will lose his life if he’s found. “I’m sorry, Liam.” I swallow hard, yet the lump in my throat doesn’t
shift. “I’ve been so mad at you. For leaving, for not telling me everything about Oran. I’ve not let myself think about the sacrifices you’ve made, because if I do…” I’ll stop being mad at you. And if I stop being mad at you, then other feelings will rush in and I can’t have that. I’m a one-man woman. I can’t, no, I won’t love more than one man at a time. God, if I had my choice, I’d love one man for the rest of my life. But that’s not an option. Adam sneaks into my mind. His smile. His eyes.
You lost a very great love. Liam’s words float through me, gentle and understanding. I want to protest him invading my mind. But, lately, it just doesn’t bother me the way it used to. And besides, I’m the one who’d spoken to him this time.
“I gave up on love for a long time. Then Kyle came into my life.”
I saw you first. Liam smirks as he thinks it.
“And I’ve told you it’s not a choice. Who you love. When you left, it made the choice for me and I don’t regret it.”
Not even a little? He sobers, walking towards me. Lifting his right hand, he plays with my hair, twirling strands around his pale fingers that are still glowing with a hint of fae light.
“I’m tired, Liam. Where are you going to sleep?” I don’t even ask if the bed is mine. It’s not like Liam would make his ‘queen’ sleep upright in a chair by the fire.
“I will make do.” His hand drops from my hair and his face is stoic. “I’m sorry that I keep pushing you, Victoria. I truly am. The heart is… a hard beat to ignore.”
Moving away from him, each footfall an effort of will, I stand at the side of the bed and strip off my jacket. I fold it and lay it against a small table made of twisted branches and a circular cut of tree. Kicking off my dirty shoes, I wish that I had something else to sleep in. One of my big peeves is getting into a clean, or clean-looking bed, in day clothes that carry the filth of the world on them.