by Eli Constant
“Okay, that’s good. You have them all then? We need to destroy them.”
“We had them all. Yes.” Terrance sounds tired.
“You had them all?” I repeat in disbelief. “How do you lose… five big jade stones, Terrance?”
“Yeah, funny thing that. Get all the counties to agree to let us hold them in our evidence locker so they can be examined. And all it takes is a busty woman with her flirt game on point to talk one of my guys into giving her the damn things. It’s all on fucking camera. The deputy couldn’t even string a few words together to admit what happened. It was like he was…” Terrance stops speaking abruptly. “Dammit, Tori. Magic. It was fucking magic. Son of a bitch.”
“Well, I’m guessing it wasn’t just her epic sex appeal.” I sigh and close my eyes. This was not going to do anything to back Terrance off his anti-supernatural kick. “I need to see the security tapes, Terrance. If I had to guess, I’d bet that was Eve, the proverbial first lady witch.”
“She was right here, Tori. Right fucking here, and she walked in and out like she owned the damn place. It’s not right. How can humans fight this shit?” I can feel his anger in emotional spikes jabbing at me.
“Fire with fire, Terrance. Supernatural against supernatural. Aren’t you glad I’m not just an ordinary human?”
“If this shit was eradicated, Tori, I’d be happy as a fucking peach for you to be human.”
His words stung. I wanted off the phone. I wanted to sit by my supernatural boyfriend and say screw humanity. Even the good ones turn on you.
But I don’t.
Because part of me is human, even if it’s not always the best part of what I am. “As soon as I can leave Kyle, I’ll come to the station.”
Terrance doesn’t respond. He just hangs up. And I’m pissed, because I wanted to be the asshole who didn’t say goodbye.
***
I sit by Kyle through the late afternoon, into the evening, and well into the night after Crow has left and the bar has fallen quiet. He wanted to stay and help, but I’d told him I was fine. I didn’t want him around, especially not at night in the dark uninhabited bar. I was still getting strange vibes from him. The good old-fashioned heebie-jeebies.
There wasn’t much for entertainment or reading in Kyle’s office. The only catalogues were for restaurant supply, and the only magazines were psychology journals. After much searching, I find an ancient copy of Moby Dick in the lower drawer of his desk. It seems like the sort of epic literary venture Kyle would go on, but I’m surprised when I open it. I see Jim’s name written on the inside cover in sprawling, fading black ink. I smile, because you never really know a person, not the whole person under that nesting doll surface my dad talked about. Jim always seemed like his type of reading would be the pictures in Playboy. Now I knew somewhere, deep down, he harbored an Ahab.
I could believe that.
Kyle’s body takes up the entire couch, and then some, so I settle myself on the floor with my back against the wall. I could have sat in his desk chair, but that thing is torture on the body. It pushes hard in your back, springs poke your ass. Just plain awful.
At some point before I’ve even finished the foreward letter from the edition’s editor about the actual albino whale, Mocha Dick, that inspired the novel, I lean my head back and close my eyes. I don’t mean to doze, but I’m so tired. Emotionally fucking exhausted. And I just need a moment’s reprieve.
A moment stretches into uncomfortable hours, and I blink when a burst of light wakens me. As I flash my lids up and down, I see the world through an inconsistent feathering of lashes. It’s not daytime. I turn to the clock. I think it says five AM. Maybe not. I’m still half-caught in sleepiness. Light sparkles again, like firecrackers on the Fourth of July.
Shifting my body, I lift myself straight against the wall, but I’m not quite cognizant enough to attempt standing yet.
Blink.
Blink. Lashes flutter like butterfly wings. Fog wants to creep into my brain again, and make the synapses quiet as a graveyard.
I blink again, hard and fast and with determination.
Dammit, wake up.
When my vision finally, fully clears, I see a long waterfall of ginger-hued hair. It is nearly carrot-orange and shining like a roadside sign for a motel in sunny, citrus-centric Florida. Glowing like Liam’s does, and like mine does when I’m pregnant with power. Fae. The female is hovering beside the sofa. The glowing sparks that had woken me are shining around her in small bursts without pattern. I try to stand, but I’m stiff and unsteady from being on the floor so long. A familiar grip reaches down and wraps around my waist.
Stay calm and quiet, Victoria. She needs to concentrate if she is to heal Kyle completely. If even a trace of the dark mark is left, he will find himself ill yet again in the near future.
I nod and finish standing with Liam’s help. I lean against him, and the wall, and I am silent as the stranger works her magic on my beau, who is now shirtless and as still as a corpse. I can see his chest, though, rising and falling slowly, almost imperceptibly. What I really want to do is make the fae stop, introduce herself, convince me she means no harm to Kyle.
But Kyle is dead without help. She is the only chance we apparently have. So I must trust that Liam has done a wise thing. Though, I wonder what it will cost him… will the Light Court scouts drag him off to be imprisoned once more or… worse?
I will be safe, My Queen. This fae is to be trusted. I would give her my life, as she would give unto me.
That sounds… serious. I mentally reply back, wondering who this fairy is, and how she’s come to be entwined with my Liam. My Liam. I repeat in my head, knowing how unfair that is. I’ve chosen Kyle, and I have no claim to the fairy stood beside me. Thinking that, I move away from him and steady myself only against the wall. Not touching him makes it easier to focus, and more fair to him in the long run. Because I won’t change my mind. As long as Kyle is alive, I will choose him.
And he needs to stay alive.
Kiera is doing everything she can, My Queen. I hear the tinge of hurt in Liam’s mental voice, and it also hurts me, but I’ve got to stop with the mixed signals. I have to let him know that there’s no possibility, so that he can move on and be with someone who can love him wholly, without hang-up. Maybe this Kiera could be that someone.
The stream of ginger hair sways as the fairy stands tall, waving her hands once more over Kyle’s body, emitting a last stream of pale gold sparks. When she turns around, my eyes are on her fingers—the glowing is fading to smoldering embers. I envy that magic—to heal instead of hold dominion over death and dying things.
My gaze moves up, over her thin yet supple body that is poorly-hidden beneath a transparent white tunic and pants that tie up the sides for range of movement. I want to comment on the attire. I would think a scout would need to be less conspicuous. Perhaps roaming around in camouflage so as not to be seen. As her body moves though, I see how the fabric seems to mirror the room. I can almost see the sofa and shape of Kyle behind her as the reflective material takes on its surroundings. It is a camouflage, in its own way.
Then I get to her face.
Her forgetful face surrounded by ginger hair. It doesn’t matter that she is taller than I recall. Sweating and sparing, giving me advice on my stance.
Garden scents float in my memory. Odd words… a name. Blud-ah Vas.
“You!” I gasp out, taking a step forward and lifting my hands like I’m about to school her in sparring, even though I’m a poor study. I remember everything now, even the flash of her hair as she rounded a street corner. “What the hell!”
“Victoria, stop.” Liam puts his hand on my arm hastily. “She has just cured your bear.”
“What she is, is a fairy freaking stalker. I only have room in my life for one of those. And that’s you.” I glare at Liam, and then turn to glare at the redhead. “Why the hell were you at my self-defense class? And why couldn’t I remember your face until I saw you agai
n right now?” I pause, my eyes widen. “How many times have I met you?”
“Many times,” the tall beautiful fairy responded, her chin tilted up slightly and almost in defiance. “I told Liam it would be easier to make you aware of my presence, but he disagreed. You apparently don’t like to be managed.”
“You… told… Liam.” I turn to Liam, a frown warping my face. “What’s she talking about? You obviously know her. I mean, you basically said you’d give your damn life for her if necessary. You said you were going to find a Light Court Scout, that it was Kyle’s only hope. You made it sound like it was some great noble deed and I was worried, so damn worried, that you’d be caught and taken back to prison. Or maybe worse. So what the hell’s going on?”
Liam sighs and looks past me at Kiera. “Kiera and I are… rather, we were, bonded mates.”
My mouth gapes open. “Bonded mates? Do you mean… you’re freaking married?”
Behind me, Kiera gives a startling, jarring laugh. “Oh, God. No.”
I don’t bother looking at her, but wait for Liam to continue. “We’re not married in your human sense, Victoria. We were deemed compatible over fifty years ago and entered into a contract of breeding. In the fae courts, we marry for love, but we mate for the strength of our species. Our genetic combination,” Liam once again looks behind me towards Kiera, “has produced formidable offspring.”
If my jaw could drop any further, it absolutely would. “Liam, do you have kids?”
“Kiera and I have produced eight younglings.”
“Eight. You have eight kids. Christ,” I move away from him towards Kyle’s desk. “I need to sit down.”
When I am sat in the terribly-uncomfortable chair, I take a deep breath. “Where are your kids? I mean, are they back with the Light Court? Did you abandon them?”
“Again, we do not treat parenthood the same way the humans do. The children are reared in a convent of sorts. They’re taught our ways, separated into schools of thought by aptitude. They grow fast, and there is little time for the coddling of youth.”
I look between the two elf faces in the room. Kiera stood with her hands on her hips, as if daring me to act like their arrangement was anything save normal. And Liam looking like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, like he hadn’t told me any of this about himself because he maybe knew how I’d react. Actually, I really didn’t know that much about Liam, did I? He was teaching me so much, about the supernatural world, about myself, but rarely did he divulge on personal matters.
Apparently his past was full of little details I might want to know if I was ever to consider dating him. Not that that was on the table.
“So,” I wave a finger between the two fairies, “There’s nothing between you two aside from a contract to make babies and gift your genetic material to the next generation?”
“Kiera holds a special affection in my life, but it is that of a sibling or a cousin. It’s familial, not amorous.” Liam stands completely still now, his hands clasped behind his back.
“Yep, Liam. Totes normal to have babies with your sister. I know a few states that would welcome you with open arms.”
He scoffs. “You cannot be so narrow-minded as to think the human way of approaching life is the only or best way, Victoria.”
“So she’s the Blood Queen,” Kiera changes the subject like whiplash post-car wreck. “Honestly, I don’t see it. I mean, surely the magic could be urged to choose a more appropriate host. We’ve never had an outsider Monarch.”
“She is not an outsider, Kiera.”
“She’s a half-breed at best, Liam.”
“Hello,” I say sarcastically, “I’m sitting right here.”
Kiera quirks an eyebrow as if to say ‘and your point is?’
I stand, feeling fight mode coming back like a rabid coyote. Kiera is saved by the groan, though, as Kyle shifts positions and starts struggling to sit up.
“Kyle?” I question, rushing forward to support him as he moves. He still looks pale when he’s sat up on the sofa, but I love that I can sit beside him and he feels regular shifter warm, rather than dying shifter cold. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” his smile is hesitant as he eyes Kiera. “I’m guessing I have you to thank for that?”
“Yes. Though I’m not sure your girlfriend is as grateful.” She says ‘girlfriend’ with a snide undertone.
“Hey, I’m grateful. I just don’t appreciate being stalked, again, by a fairy.” Kyle tenses beside me, his protective Berserker…or maybe just his boyfriend instincts…flaring. I put a hand on his knee and give it a small squeeze. “So that brings me back to it. As far as my understanding goes, Dark Court members breezed into Bonneau and decided to dick around with a few supernaturals, Kyle being one victim. The Light Court markings on the bar, and on my apartment, were your scouts tracking down the foul play. Right?”
“Well, as we were already in the area,” Kiera remarks, perching herself on Kyle’s desk and looking effortless in her transparent clothing. “The side task of controlling our trouble-seeking dark brethren was a simple enough thing.”
“So Light Court Scouts were already in Bonneau?” I bite my lower lip as I waited for her answer.
“Yes,” she casually slings her long ginger hair over her shoulder. I really want to punch her, but I want answers more.
“And they were here already because…” I let the question trail off. I know what’s coming. I can feel it in my gut, just like I know I’m absolutely right that Braeden is behind Kyle’s illness.
“Because Oran, Prince of the Light, wished it so.” Kiera says the words I dread. “Your location was divulged to us months ago.”
“By my brother,” I say with absolute certainty.
“By someone who has trespassed many times against the Light Court, and who sought absolution for his sins.” Kiera tiptoes around a straight answer.
“It had to be my brother.” I focus on Liam. I want the absolute truth. I want to stop worrying about Braeden’s note and whether it was a lie to scare me or if he actually did it. I reach for Liam with my mind. An expression like pain crosses his face. Because, hell, if he did actually tell the Light Court like he said, then at least I know for sure. And you can stop trying to protect me so hard, Liam. You don’t have to run off all the time to lead them on a fake trail.
I speak out loud again so everyone can hear me. “He threatened to tell Oran in his letter, Liam. I mean… he said he did tell him. I keep wondering if it was a scare tactic, but if he did that would make sense. That would be why the fae scouts were here.” I stand, agitated, and Kyle reaches up and takes my hand. I can feel his need, and that he doesn’t want me to leave him. So I fight my need to pace and quell the anxiety trying to swallow me.
I am sorry for this, My Queen. Liam’s voice is a tenuous thread in my mind. It scares me.
“It was not your brother, Victoria. Though, I do not doubt the Dark Prince also spread the news in his own way,” Liam speaks slowly, his words heavy. And, suddenly, I don’t want the truth. “I did not simply escape from the Light Court prison. No one ever truly escapes. Through death perhaps…” He begins to pace; perhaps moving makes the truth fall easier from his lips. “I lied to you, in my desperation to return. I knew that your location would be found out sooner rather than later. Oran had his highest councilmen and scouts on the task. I bought my freedom by the bargain of you. Where you were, your life, your weaknesses, your strengths.”
Now, I am gripping Kyle’s hand hard. I’m making myself stay connected to him because I need him desperately and not the other way around. My chest hurts; my heart thumps. I’m breaking.
“All your talk about leading the scouts away? Of keeping me safe? I thought you gave up your entire damn fairy life to come back to me, Liam. And if you told Oran, if he knows where I am, why hasn’t he shown up with an army to whisk me away against my will?” I’m equal parts rage and pain.
“That was also part of the arrangement. I would kee
p tabs on you, teach you the ways of the Court, prepare you to take your place at the Light Prince’s side. It was the only way to keep you free.” Liam holds his hands out, hoping I’ll understand.
“Free… free for now, you mean. And all this time… all this time I was scared. I’ve been reading Braeden’s note over and over again for months.” I let go of Kyle’s hand and I march forward. I imagine each footfall is a gunshot at the great betrayal. The heartache weighs me down like so many sandbags before a hurricane. Before I can think about what I’m doing, I cock my arm back and I swing. My palm catches Liam’s hard cheek. I hit so hard that my hand stings and my elbow aches.
And he stands there stoically, hands now at his sides, ready to take more of my anger should I want to deal it out.
“Leave. Get out of this bar, get out of my town, and get out of my life.” I put my power behind the words. I let every iota of what I’ve learned pour through me. I am so angry that my skin begins to redden and blood begins to leak from my pores. It drips beneath Adam’s jacket and leaves me sticky. I shrug it off and let it fall to the floor with a thud. My floor-length dress now looks like leopard’s fur, dark spots blossoming on the olive green material.
“I did this to protect you, Victoria. They were coming for you; it was only a matter of time. I was able to delay it, to prepare you, to keep you safe.”
I shook my head and smiled. The power was reaching a tipping point, that crest where I would release my grip and let it overtake me. And I’d ride that wave, until I crashed on the beach and everything was broken in my wake.
In that moment, I realize how my powers have grown. But I also realize that I am hurting myself in my wrath. I am dragging my own life force forth through my skin, pouring it out into the world like the visual portrayal of a shattered heart.
“I did this all for you, Victoria. Please. Try and understand.”
“I do understand, Liam.” I speak softly, and that eye-of-the-storm sound is infinitely more frightening than yelling. “You lied to me. You have been lying to me. For so long. When you saw the Light Court marks, you knew exactly what that meant. You knew Kiera was following me, keeping track of me. How many scouts are here? How many eyes watch me and report to Oran? I can’t trust you. And you need to leave. And take your breeding partner with you.”