Revelation

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Revelation Page 4

by Rye Brewer


  I shook my head again, closing my eyes.

  No.

  I wasn’t raped.

  I didn’t see men turn into animals.

  And I’m not a vampire.

  I sure as hell wasn’t that. These things didn’t happen in real life. It was all a dream or a hallucination. It wasn’t real.

  “How else could we have traveled the way we did?” he asked in a soft whisper. “How else can you explain the way you want blood? And I know you want it. You just reached for it when I pulled it out. You tried to drink mine on the way here. It’s all right. You can accept it. Once you do, it’ll be easier to move on.”

  I shook my head, but more weakly than I did before, and was just about to tell him how hard it all was to understand, when my entire body went stiff. My head rocked back on my shoulders and I started shaking uncontrollably.

  “What’s… happening?” I choked out before I started gagging.

  Oh, no. Not again.

  I tried to hold it back while Gage picked me up and carried me to the bathroom—when I was there, positioned over the toilet, I opened my mouth and unleashed the contents of my stomach.

  Blood, bile, and who knew what else.

  11

  Anissa

  Nothing like cooling my heels at the penthouse.

  Alone.

  “There’s been a security breach at one of our properties,” Jonah explained when the message came through on his phone. “I need to go over and see what’s happening.”

  “Do you, really?” I’d asked. When he’d raised an eyebrow, I’d scrambled to explain myself. “No, no, it’s not that I don’t care about what happens, but you already have so much on your plate. Isn’t there anybody else who can look into this for you?”

  “You’re telling me I need to learn to delegate, in other words,” he’d grinned as he put his shoes on. He had just asked me to marry him. We had just talked about spending a future together. And then, something got in the way. What a surprise.

  “Yes. I am. Listen, if we’re ever going to be happy in the long-term…”

  He’d held up a hand to stop me. “I understand. I hear you. And when things calm down a little, and I have a minute to think, I’ll put together a plan for delegating. All right?”

  “When things calm down,” I’d repeated, rolling my eyes. “Because we have such a strong history of calm, easy, peaceful lives.”

  “Point taken.” He’d chuckled good-naturedly before planting a sweet, lingering kiss on my forehead and hurrying out.

  I wasn’t allowed to go with him, which only irked me. That and the way he kissed me on the forehead like I was a child.

  You’re just overreacting. Looking for a reason to be annoyed.

  Maybe, but who would’ve blamed me? Whenever we managed to get a minute to ourselves, something more pressing managed to come up. And I always faded into the background. He said he wanted to marry me, but he didn’t understand how that made me feel.

  I couldn’t hang around here anymore—especially since there was someone hanging around the background of my mind. I zipped up a sweatshirt and pulled the hood over my telltale hair before sneaking out of the penthouse. I hated feeling like I had to sneak around.

  I coursed. The route to Headquarters was just about as familiar to me as the back of my hand by now, only I wasn’t going there to pay a visit to Lucian’s remains.

  Instead, once I reached the wide, open clearing which surrounded the old cathedral, I veered off to the right. In the direction of the entrance to Avellane. I had to check on my brother.

  The old, gnarled tree was my landmark, and I touched its weathered bark before taking a few cautious steps closer to what I knew was the portal.

  It almost shimmered, and I wondered if human eyes could see it as clearly as I could. Or even vampire eyes. Probably not, since if Lucian had ever noticed an entrance to the land my father ruled, there was no telling what he would’ve done. Good riddance.

  Stepping through was like walking from black-and-white into color, even when the human world was already in full color. The trees were greener, the air was fresher and seemed to sparkle just like the portal did.

  I took a deep breath, as deep as my lungs would allow, filling myself up with the sweetness surrounding me. My fae half responded strongly to being there, where it belonged.

  “Anissa?” A semi-familiar voice—female, high-pitched.

  I tensed at the sound anyway, purely out of instinct, before turning in its direction. When I saw Marigold approaching from between two tall, thick trees, I relaxed and smiled.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked with a smile matching mine. She was so free and natural looking in her long, flowing dress. The pale yellow color matched the flowers woven through her hair. “Your father will be so happy to see you.”

  I held a finger to my lips. “Not just yet. I want to see Felicity first. Can you tell me where she is?”

  Her smile faltered.

  Why would I want to visit Gregor’s advisor—if that’s who Felicity was, I wasn’t quite clear on how deep their relationship ran—before I visited him? I mentally crossed my fingers and hoped Marigold didn’t ask questions.

  She didn’t. “Felicity is in reflections.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Like I knew what that was. “Where’s reflections?”

  Her giggle was almost musical. “Reflections isn’t a where. It’s a what.”

  “Sure.” I let out a half-hearted chuckle, like I was in on the joke. “Okay. So, what is reflections?”

  “It’s when one of us goes off to be alone, so we can reflect and meditate. We replenish our health and strength this way.”

  “Ah, I see. And are you completely alone when you do this?” I was already onto Felicity’s game, and I had to give her credit.

  Marigold nodded, and a few of the petals in her crown of flowers floated around her face. “There is a place designated for this, separated into rooms where we can be alone as long as we need.”

  “Can you show me where it is?”

  She hesitated for a split second before replying, “I can show you, but we’re not to disturb those in reflections.”

  “I understand,” I assured her, even though I had every intention of doing just that.

  Not that I believed Felicity was actually meditating or whatever. She had Allonic and used this special, sacred tradition as an excuse to watch over him without being noticed.

  I followed Marigold through the trees, watching my step all the way. She walked without looking down, having traveled this way many times. On the other hand, I had to be careful of thick, snake-like roots sticking up from the ground and the moss-covered rocks which blended in with the thick carpet of emerald grass.

  I glanced up from time to time and saw the crisscrossing bridges spanning the spaces between the trees, heard the laughing voices of the fae as they traveled them.

  Where was my father? I only hoped he didn’t see me, that none of them saw me. I couldn’t risk him finding out about my brother.

  Assuming he didn’t already know. Did he? Would Felicity tell him? I doubted it—besides, I’d know if he found out. He’d tell me so. In no uncertain terms.

  The trees thinned, and I realized we were leaving the heart of Avellane. “How far is this place?” I asked just before tripping over a concealed root and almost sprawling.

  There was a reason bridge travel was preferred, I guessed. At least a person could see what they were about to step on, even if it meant walking over a rope bridge, hundreds of feet in the air.

  “The Hermitage isn’t much further,” she promised.

  The Hermitage.

  I had assumed she’d take me to a special tree or something.

  Nothing could’ve been further from the truth.

  I gasped when I first saw the way the warm, amber light of sunset hit the marble walls of the Hermitage. In broad daylight, they would’ve shone bright, brilliant white. Late in the day, however, the walls seemed to burn orange an
d gold and red.

  “Pretty, isn’t it?” she asked, taking my hand when I stopped walking. I couldn’t help it. Some things required a person to stop and stare.

  It was a huge temple, or what looked like one, set on a gently rolling hill. How had I never seen it before? Because it was too far outside the city of trees, where the fae made their homes. I had never ventured outside there.

  The marble walls stretch hundreds of feet into the air. Almost miles, it seemed, and they were just as wide as they were tall, and dotted with small windows which I guessed were larger on closer inspection.

  At the top of each of the four corners was a half-dome covered in what looked like gold, and in the center, was a giant dome spanning the roof—only this one was set with jewels in every color imaginable.

  I realized the design of the dome was meant to reflect the trees and flowers of Avellane—the leaves and grass truly were emeralds instead of just looking like them, and the flowers were ruby, diamond, citrine, plus a half-dozen stones I had no name for. Sapphire sky, pearl clouds. I stared, unmoving.

  “Yes. It is striking. Sometimes I sit by the hour, watching the sun play off the marble and jewels,” Marigold murmured.

  I wondered how she ever managed to get anything done. I would gladly spend the rest of my life sitting and watching, never taking my eyes from it.

  “Where did all the jewels come from?” I asked, awestruck.

  “No one knows. There are legends, of course. A band of dishonest fae stole them from pirates many thousands of years ago. They were mined from somewhere deep below the ground by trolls. Who knows? It’s enough that we have the privilege of enjoying them.”

  I wished I could adopt her carefree attitude.

  “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I whispered, wiping my eyes with my sleeves. I would love to show it to Jonah.

  “You should see it at sunrise. It’s indescribable.” She let out a happy little sigh, and I made a mental note to do just that one day.

  When we grew closer, I noted a gently flowing river which ringed the Hermitage. Charming little footbridges crossed the water. We walked over one of them—I noted the fish swimming happily around, scales sparkling red and gold—and stopped at a gazebo hung thick with flowering vines. I guessed that was another place designated for quiet reflection—and with the sound of the water behind and the sight of the magnificence in front of it, I could see why.

  “We’re not allowed to go in, right?” I asked, eyeing up the pair of golden doors inlaid with pearls, flanked by towering marble columns. One of them was slightly ajar, which was a good thing. I couldn’t imagine having to open them. They were ten times my height.

  “Right.” Marigold shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, no, that’s all right. I’ll wait here until Felicity comes out.”

  She frowned. “It could be a very long time.”

  “I can be patient when I have to,” I grinned. “And I could use the time to rest and relax a little. This is the first really peaceful place I’ve been to in… well, it feels like forever.”

  She patted my arm. “I understand. I’ll leave you alone, then.”

  I was counting on it.

  She moved quickly, gracefully, crossing over the footbridge and walking down the grassy hill.

  I waited until she was nothing more than a dot against the mossy tree trunks before turning my attention back to the Hermitage.

  My heart skipped a beat as I approached.

  The sheer gloriousness of the building inspired a feeling of reverence I wasn’t used to. What would happen if somebody spotted me and knew I didn’t belong there? No, no, I couldn’t think about that. And I did belong there. I was part-fae, and my father was the ruler. If anybody belonged there, it was me.

  I stepped inside, and instantly plunged into near-darkness. The high-set windows only allowed but so much light, and beams of it streamed down until they met up in the center and illuminated pair of tightly spiraled staircases which ran up from the marble floor up to the ceiling, so high up I had to crane my neck and still couldn’t make out the top. They reminded me of a double helix. It felt like two lifetimes had passed since those classes.

  The staircases led to many floors, stacked on top of each other, and on them walked a handful of white-haired fae who traveled silently, hands either folded in front of them or behind them, none of them acknowledging each other. They were in their own worlds, I realized, deep in contemplation. That worked in my favor. I wouldn’t stand out if nobody noticed me.

  The problem would be finding Felicity in all of this. Sure, she had made a good move by bringing Allonic to a place where nobody paid attention to anything past the tip of their nose, but I couldn’t exactly stand in the center of one of the staircases and call her name.

  I jogged up to the first floor to start my search.

  A person could get lost in here, I quickly realized with dismay. The rooms were small, clustered together. I peered into one through a door which someone had left open to find piles of cushions and a single thick candle burning on a pillar.

  An elderly woman with a long, white braid sat on a cushion, staring up at the flame. That room led straight back to another, empty room, and then another beyond it. There were rooms on either side, too, all connected. On and on. How many were there?

  I stepped aside to allow a pair of quiet young men pass, their eyes downcast. They turned a corner and disappeared into an alcove which, when I followed, I saw led to another, larger room with a trickling fountain in the center.

  I turned and looked to the open center of the building, where the staircases twisted together, then up to the floors above me, and was struck by the sensation of standing in the center of a beehive. The bees went about their business, moving through the interconnected rooms, single-minded in their purpose. A shiver ran down my spine. I didn’t know if I was inspired by what I saw or a little unnerved.

  Felicity and Allonic. Find them. Right—this wasn’t the time for introspection.

  I picked up the pace as I traveled the walkway which ran in a square around the center of the first floor, then dashed up to the next floor to repeat my search. Some of the doors were closed, which only irritated me. Felicity would close the door, wouldn’t she? How was I supposed to find her?

  As it turned out, she found me.

  “What are you doing here?” She met me on the stairs, surprise and concern and panic flashing across her normally serene face.

  “I had to check on... him, of course. I wouldn’t leave him here and forget about him,” I hissed.

  She looked around, clutching my arm. “All right. Come with me. Three floors up.”

  We didn’t run, instead taking on the slow, thoughtful pace of others going up and down the stairs.

  I sensed the tension in her, the way she wanted to run flat-out, the strain of holding back. I knew the feeling. I wanted to run to him, too.

  She led me to a small room, walking through four unused rooms along the way. I saw more cushions, candles, a fountain in the corner of one of them. One room was full of flowers which looked suspiciously fresh, like they were growing there instead of merely decorating the place.

  When we came to the last room, I saw Allonic lying on a bier, and everything else fell away.

  Felicity closed the door behind us as I went to him and dropped to my knees at his side.

  We were along one of the Hermitage’s outer walls, judging by the window which allowed in the sun’s last waning rays. They fell across Allonic’s immobile face.

  My heart sank.

  He was still unconscious.

  12

  Gage

  I held her hair and stroked her back as she threw up, trying to comfort her in any way I could.

  I remembered what it was like when I turned, when Philippa turned. How miserable and terrified and sick we were. So sick. The seizures that ripped through us, the throwing up. The pain as every muscle in my body contracted at once. Wondering if I
was dying, if it would ever end. Wishing I would die if that was what was going to happen anyway.

  The gagging slowed, then stopped.

  Cari sat back on her calves and took a deep, shuddery breath—before another seizure tore through her. Her eyes rolled back as she convulsed and I tried to hold her as still as I could—I was afraid she would hit her head on the toilet or the floor if I let her go.

  “It’ll be over soon,” I promised as I held her and wished I could go through it for her. But I couldn’t protect her from everything.

  Her head lolled forward. She was unconscious. Probably better for her.

  I waited until it seemed like her body was through with the shaking and convulsing and carried her back to the living room, placing her on the couch as gently as I could.

  She was a mess.

  I went back to the bathroom for washcloths and towels and did what I could to clean her up—the blood had dried on her skin, but a little persistence took care of it.

  Once she was clean, I raided the closets for a robe. She couldn’t stay in that ruined dress. I was careful to lift her without waking her up and tried to give her as much dignity as I could.

  It wasn’t easy. They had left her in terrible shape. At least her wounds had healed.

  One of the perks of being a vampire.

  She was so beautiful. How could anybody hurt something so beautiful? So special?

  She might not have been pure in the traditional, old-fashioned sense, but there had been a purity about her just the same. No pretense, no affectations.

  She had been herself and nobody else, and she never would’ve changed for anyone. There was purity in that. And she had been good and honest and sweet and that was all over, too.

  I touched her face and remembered what it was like to watch her die. I would do anything for her. Anything to keep her from dying. I would even turn her into something like me.

  I wrapped her up and left her on the couch. Then, I picked up her dress and held it in my hands. The scents coming from it.

 

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