Traitor

by Claire Farrell

  “Let’s leave Marina out of this.”

  “You never know when she’ll come in handy,” he said. “Koda seems well, by the way.”

  According to Lucia’s vision, Koda’s imminent death was supposed to spark change, but I couldn’t figure out how.

  “Maybe Lucia was wrong,” I said.

  “Perhaps. How I would love a chat with Eloise instead,” he said longingly.

  “I’d hate to think what Daimhín would charge for five minutes with her seer,” I joked, but he flinched. I was getting really tired of being suspicious of Eddie.

  “Oh,” he said. “How’s your grandmother these days?”

  “Getting worse. The truth is hurting her right now. I don’t know what to do.”

  “I wish I had the power to ease her mind.” He sounded genuine.

  I blinked a couple of times. The conversation had sparked a couple of different thoughts that I longed to explore further. “I should go,” I said, wincing a little as I pushed away from the counter.

  “Are you still wearing a bandage?” he asked.

  “Nope,” I lied and walked out of his shop.

  ***

  Val rang my phone as I sat curled up on the sofa, a hot-water bottle pressed against my belly.

  “Leah wanted me to tell you that there’s a fae outside your door. Should I take his head?”

  I tried not to laugh. “No, it’s okay. Tell her thanks. I’ve got this.”

  I hung up, went to the door, opened it, and returned to the sofa. If he wanted to come in, he could, but I wasn’t in the mood to stand on my doorstep and try to figure him out. The front door closed, a few hesitant footsteps sounded in the hall, and Phoenix walked into the room. He cut a lonely figure, and I did pity him, but I wasn’t sure what he wanted from us, not truly.

  “I needed some air,” he said, taking a seat next to me.

  “So you came inside?”

  “Anywhere is less suffocating than home.” He rubbed his chest and gazed around the room, anywhere but at me.

  The silence made me uncomfortable. “What is it you’re looking for? You keep coming back here.”

  “I don’t know what else to do. They’re here. The answers are here, and yet, they might as well be far away.”

  “You’ll prove yourself, and then the twins will trust you. Everything will work out.”

  “Will I?” he asked anxiously. “What if I can’t? What if I don’t deserve a chance with them?”

  “For Fionnuala’s son, you’re pretty concerned about doing the right thing.”

  He smiled, a faraway smile. “My mother once told me I was exactly like my father. She intended it as an insult, but the words meant the same as yours.”

  “I heard about him. Conn, right?”

  He turned in his seat, his eyes bright and eager. “What did you learn?”

  “That he was a warrior, well loved by the fae. I heard that your mother only held on to her position because she married him. You disappeared after he died, and you suddenly reappeared when talk began about Fionnuala not having an heir.”

  His hand went to his chest. “I remember him being dead. I remember seeing his body, but that’s when things start to blur. That was the beginning.”

  I set down the hot-water bottle. “Thing is, I heard that he was sick in some way, but a witch cured him. Then he died of some wound.”

  He gazed at me in horror. “Did I…? Was that why I was exiled? Because I caused my own father’s death?”

  “No, idiot.”

  He jerked as if I had slapped him.

  I apologised swiftly. “I was thinking that maybe Helena cured him, that maybe you decided to run when he died because you knew what really happened to him.”

  He sucked in a harsh breath. “You believe he was murdered by my mother, don’t you?”

  “It fits with everything else that happened. Maybe you saw what your mother was really capable of, and you knew running was the only way to keep Helena out of her sights. But along the way, something went wrong.”

  He pressed his palm to his forehead. “If only I could remember. Everything would be so much easier.”

  I thought of Nancy. “Maybe it wouldn’t be. My grandmother’s memories are tormenting her. Maybe the memory loss is protecting you.”

  “I would rather know. I don’t remember being in love. My wife must have been my first love. Do you know what that is like? And how it feels to lose it all? Because I don’t.”

  I nodded. “I was separated from my first love. It took me a long time to get over it.”

  “Tell me what happened.” He was so eager to know about other people’s experiences and memories that I couldn’t stop the words spilling out of my mouth.

  “My grandmother was strict with me when I was a kid. Shit happened. I met a boy. Life got better. When I was eighteen, things got hot and heavy, and I almost drained him. I left and didn’t look back.”

  “You never saw him again?”

  “Actually, I saw him recently. My grandmother has Alzheimer’s. I didn’t know, but he’s been taking care of her.”

  “Sounds perfect,” he said, looking surprised. “A second chance.”

  “Not everybody deserves a second chance,” I said grimly.

  “He’s not a good man?”

  “He’s a great man. I was talking about me.”

  “Is this to do with the child? The boy who lived with you. He and his father.”

  I shook my head, sort of surprised. “No. It’s only to do with me. Sometimes you can’t go back. Even if you want to. Sometimes you shouldn’t go back. It’s not like with you and the twins. I really believe that you all knowing each other will make your lives better. I’ll only bring my old love danger and pain and fear because that’s all there is in my life. No matter what happens, something else comes along. And my grandmother… her memories of me are killing her, terrifying her. I can’t even go to see her because she freaks out so much.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could help.”

  I caught his eye, and my heart raced in triple-time. “Actually, I think we might be able to help each other.”

  ***

  My grandmother sat on a comfortable-looking armchair in the living room, moving knitting needles that held no wool, a frown furrowing her brow. She muttered rapidly under her breath, and after a moment, I realised she was praying. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Wesley pushed me into the kitchen. “I told you she was deteriorating, Ava. She’s not comfortable here anymore.”

  “I know,” I said. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

  “Goodbye?” He took my hands and squeezed them gently. “Don’t do it. Not again. We’ve only just found you.”

  “It’s too complicated to explain,” I said. “I haven’t told you the truth about everything that’s been happening, and that’s because you don’t belong in my world.”

  “I’ve always belonged to you.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the memories flooding my mind. His hand left mine and stroked my cheek. I automatically leaned into his palm.

  “Don’t leave this time, Ava.”

  “I’m sorry I hurt you,” I said. “It won’t happen again. It’ll be over soon.”

  “What are you talking about?” he whispered.

  “I need you to forget about me.”

  He leaned his forehead against mine. “Never.”

  He kissed me, and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, feeling like a teenager again. Everything he had done for me—the way he protected me, did his best to make me happy and to show me how to fit in—it all returned to me. I remembered his kiss and how much I had once needed him. But those days were over. I didn’t need him anymore. I wasn’t a victim. I refused to ever be a victim again. And I needed to leave that past behind. I needed to move forward without it dragging me back down.

  I broke away, a little breathless. “Goodbye, Wes.”

  “What?”

  “You can come in n
ow,” I called out, running my thumb along Wesley’s bottom lip.

  Phoenix stepped through the doorway behind me. I took one last look at Wes, hoping he would always be okay. I went back into the living room and knelt before Nancy. She had put her knitting needles aside, and her hands lay in her lap. She smiled serenely at me.

  “Hello,” she said brightly.

  “Hi,” I replied in a soft voice, gazing at the face I had once feared, and later, felt tremendous guilt over. I would always make sure she and Wesley were watched over, but I couldn’t keep coming back and upsetting her. I had to let them go, for their own good.

  “Do I know you?” she asked, her smile fading.

  “No,” I said. “Not anymore. But I’d still like you to know that deep down, I’ve always had love for you. I never wanted to disappoint you. I kept waiting for you to be proud of me, but I don’t need that anymore. And I don’t need to carry around this anger and bitterness either. It’s a burden I don’t want. So I forgive you for everything you’ve done because I know it wasn’t all your fault. Not… not all of it.” I patted her hand and stood.

  Her face cleared. “Oh, do you know my son? He’s such a good boy.”

  “We haven’t met. Maybe someday.”

  I left the house then, unable to bear her presence for another second. I tried not to think about Wesley, about stealing his memories away. To keep from begging Phoenix to leave Wesley alone, I walked away from my old life, from my memories, from my past. I took steps toward an uncertain future, but one that wasn’t linked to my worst memories.

  I didn’t look back.

  ***

  Later that evening, somebody slammed a fist against my door. I might have ignored the interruption if it hadn’t been so loud.

  I yanked open the front door, ready to unleash my wrath, but Phoenix stood there, shaking with fury. His anger terrified me, and I stepped back.

  He stormed in, slammed the door behind him, and clutched my arms. “Did you know that in order for me to hide somebody’s memories, I have to see them? I have to relive them, feel them.”

  I shook my head, unable to even squeak out a sound. His grip hurt, but the lack of control in his eyes was what scared me the most.

  “Our childhoods were not dissimilar,” he whispered. “Yours was a reminder of mine.”

  I shrugged him off. “We don’t need to talk about it.” I headed toward the living room.

  He followed me, but he was so hyped up that he didn’t seem to be able to sit down, so I didn’t either. We faced each other in the middle of the living room, the air practically frizzing with tension.

  “They tried to mould me, too,” he said, his eyes too bright. “But they couldn’t change what I was.”

  “What were you?”

  “Wrong,” he said, his half-smile wry. “Too full of ideals for her, too dark to actually make a difference. This, I remember.”

  “You can be whatever you want to be.”

  He paced the small area, running his hands through his hair. “No matter what I do, there will always be darkness in me.” He stopped and gazed at me, almost pleadingly. “It’s in you, too. I knew it the first time I saw you.”

  “There’s light in me too,” I insisted.

  His face fell. “That’s the difference then. There was never any light in me.”

  “Bullshit! Whether you remember it or not, you disagreed with what your mother stood for. You tried to help. You fell in love, and your children are the purest people I know. There’s no darkness in them, none at all, and that’s some kind of miracle. They had to get some of what they are from you, and there’s nothing dark about them.”

  “Their mother—”

  “She loved you until she stopped breathing. Why would she have done that if you were so bad? Stop letting them tell you who you are!”

  Eddie’s voice whispered in my ear, echoes of his ideas running through my mind. Could I break Phoenix if I twisted hard enough? Was he the key to everything?

  “Why did you do it?” he asked so low I barely heard him. “Why did you give her that gift of letting her forget? She deserved her punishment.”

  “She might have deserved it, but it’s not up to me to sentence her. She’s old, and she was afraid, and I’m tired of being angry. I don’t want to be a victim anymore. Feeling sorry for myself was holding me back. I won’t ever apologise for what I am, and if people can’t accept that, then I’ll let them go for good.” I was panting by the end of my little speech, my heart racing. I was finally willing to let go of anyone who had punished me for what I was born to be. I didn’t hate myself. I welcomed both sides, and that didn’t make me a monster. Not anymore.

  “What is it?” he asked. “Your face…”

  “When we fought together, I relished the darkness, Phoenix, and I’m not ashamed of that anymore. I used to think of my gifts as my dirty little secret, but I’m proud of what I can do. I like it. I would rather be strong than beautiful. I would rather take care of myself than be protected. I’m not going to let guilt or shame hold me back anymore, and that’s why I asked you to take her memories, because I’m tired of being responsible for her guilt. I don’t have to own what she did. It doesn’t have to define me.”

  He closed the space between us, the tension thickening. “And the man? Why did you punish him so?”

  “I didn’t punish him!”

  “You gave him my punishment, and you made me do it.” He hesitated. “Did you mean to punish me?”

  “It wasn’t about you at all, Phoenix. Look, you need me if you want a relationship with the twins. I needed you to help me let go of the past. Deals and favours, that’s how this world works, right? Besides, I set Wes free,” I added, uncomfortable with the way he was looking at me. “He was in love with somebody who died a long time ago. It was time to let him move on.”

  He brushed his thumb across my lips, mimicking the way I had left Wes. “He loved you, and you stole that from him. Just like my love was stolen from me. How could you do that?”

  I pushed him away. “It’s not the same. You gave away your memories, remember? And what I did will keep him safe from me. But maybe losing your memories kept you alive. Maybe you would have died fighting if you remembered what was done to you.”

  “But I’ll never know for sure.”

  I gazed at him, full of pity. “I’m so sorry for that.”

  “Can I see?” he whispered. “Can I see what it felt like for you?”

  Before I could stutter an answer, his fingers were in my hair, tracing my scalp. I panicked as memory after memory flooded through my mind. Good memories, sweet ones. Memories of stolen glances and a first kiss and nights full of dreams. I lost myself in the memories, indulging one last time, and then it was over, and I was in Phoenix’s arms, supported by him because my legs had turned to jelly.

  “I saw how he saw you,” he said under his breath, lifting me so we were face to face. He appeared intoxicated by the memories, obviously struggling to find something he had experienced but didn’t remember. “It was truly pure. How could you let that go?”

  “She doesn’t exist anymore,” I whispered, vaguely aware that we were moving. “I moved on, and now he can, too.”

  “But he didn’t want to.”

  He bent his head, and for one crazy second, I thought he was going to kiss me. I hadn’t figured out what I thought about that when my back hit the bookcase and some things fell, distracting Phoenix from his strange mood.

  He set me down, a frown marring his features. He bent and lifted a dagger, squinting at the handle. “Where did you get this?”

  I stared at it for a moment before remembering. “Oh, right. I forgot I left that there. I told you about Emmett, right? When we got close to the truth about what happened to him, he was sent back from the slave markets, except he had a glamour over him that made him look like a monster. He was carrying this knife, and Peter thought he was attacking us. It got messy, but—”

  “I have to go.” He turne
d, dagger still in hand, and left abruptly, leaving me wondering what the hell had just happened.

  Chapter Eight

  Esther and I sat together on a park bench, waiting for her Circle to show up, hoping they wouldn’t arrest or attack us both. Her knee bounced up and down, tipping off mine incessantly.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “You’ve been quiet all day.”

  “Just thinking about this meeting. Stop fidgeting. I might throw up.”

  In truth, I had been freaking out about Phoenix all day. His reaction to the favour I had asked of him had been unexpected. Although if I had really considered what I was doing, it would have been obvious. Of course he would see parallels to his own situation. I had just been so desperate to leave that life behind that I didn’t think about how it would affect him. He was unpredictable and mildly terrifying, but he was the father of two of my favourite people, and we couldn’t lose him to Fionnuala.

  Esther leapt to her feet. “Here they are.” But her face fell.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “None of the shifters are here.”

  I squeezed her hand. “Too risky for them, probably. Aiden would know if they lied to him, right? It’s better they didn’t come. Safer.”

  She nodded, but her pained expression remained. Two figures came close, and Esther’s fidgeting worsened. They were both women, like all of Esther’s Circle. One was sharp featured and tall, her ash-blond hair tied up into a ponytail. The second was shorter, her long hair sleek and black except for the couple of inches of vibrant purple at the tips. She smiled at Esther as they approached.

  “I’m so glad to see you both,” Esther said.

  The blonde narrowed her grey eyes at me. “Why is she here?”

  “Quinn, she’s my friend,” Esther said.

  “And I’m here in case anyone decides to try to send Esther to the cells,” I said, disliking the way Quinn looked at me.

  “We would never,” the second woman insisted. She threw her arms around Esther, holding her close. “We’ve missed you.”

  Esther pulled away, beaming. “Alanii, this is Ava. She’s—”