Hollow: Isa Fae paranormal romance (Fallen Sorcery Book 2)

by Steffanie Holmes

  And she saw him.

  As the door crashed against the wall, the fae stood up, towering over her. His face chiseled and hard, his long dark hair hanging in ringlets around his face, and a line of stubble running across his strong chin. Biceps bulged from the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt. Tattoos of fae symbols and arcane languages circled both his arms and trailed along his neck. The tips of his ears swooped back into pixieish points. But this was no pixie. He exuded danger. And she wanted it.

  “It looks as though I’ve been invited in,” he said, giving her a wicked grin that transformed his face into something utterly enchanting. It melted her heart.

  “I … I …” Aisling’s mother screamed at her inside her head. He’s fae. Run away. Slam the door in his face. Punch him right in his perfect fae nose. But Aisling’s body called to him, longing to learn more about him, and to do many other things besides. She didn’t move, and her mind had turned to mush. She couldn’t articulate what she wanted to say.

  He didn’t move.

  “I don’t know what’s going on here,” Niall said, gesturing to the open door. “Tell me what you want me to do. This is your home. I won’t come inside unless you invite me.”

  Aisling stared at the fae boy’s eyes, then at the open door, unsure what to do. Her mother’s voice drummed in her ears. Never let the Fae inside the house. You’re safe in the house as long as the Fae can’t get in.

  Well, you’re not here anymore, are you? Aisling fought back against her memory. You died, and June died, and Bethany died, and now I’m here all alone. I’m as good as dead anyway, so why not take the chance this fae is telling the truth?

  Aisling knew the Hollow well enough to know the house never did anything unless it wanted to. It had its own agenda. For whatever reason, it wanted this fae to come in. Would he be her salvation, or her demise? The Hollow knew, but it would not tell.

  Right now, one’s as good as the other.

  Sucking in her breath, Aisling stepped back, and gestured into the hall behind her. “If you come inside, you may not be able to leave again,” she said. “Not unless the house wants you to. There’s some pretty powerful magic in these walls, and I don’t know what it will do once it senses you inside.”

  “That’s okay. I have nothing to go back to,” Niall replied, his voice hard.

  He lifted his foot and in one swift movement, stepped over the threshold. His heavy boot thudded against the marble floor of the entrance hall, the sound ricocheting through the empty, cavernous gallery like a gunshot.

  Aisling ducked around him and shoved her arm out, trying to pass over the threshold herself. Her hand slammed against an invisible barrier. So much for that idea.

  She grabbed the door handle, ignoring the strange shudder that reverberated through his fingers as soon as she touched it. If I could just force this door to stay open …

  His whole body now inside, Niall turned around, and tried to pass his hand back through the door. His hand came up against the same hard, invisible surface. He tried to push against it, but his hand remained stuck in midair, the barrier before him unyielding.

  “You weren’t kidding,” he breathed, a shadow of fear passing over his face once again.

  Aisling nodded. The door handle flew from her hand, torn away by some secret wind. The door slammed shut. The frame rattled. The outside world disappeared, swallowed in the gaping silence of the house.

  Aisling faced her dream boy.

  She looked up at her guest, her heart pounding. He was real. “I told you. You’re stuck here now, too. Do you … do you want a tour?”

  “A tour? Don’t you want to know more about me? About this weapon they’re sending, and how I can help stop it? Don’t you want to see what’s in my case?”

  “There’s plenty of time for that. There’s always time.”

  He swept her eyes over her body, and she could feel her cheeks growing hot under his gaze. Instead of looking away, she did the same back to him, devouring him with her eyes. He was the first living creature she’d ever seen up close who wasn’t a member of her family. And what a creature he was, all hard edges and taut muscles and he smelled so strange and delicious.

  Widdershins wandered into the hall from the library. When he saw Niall standing there, he arched his back and hissed.

  “Widdershins!” Aisling ran to the cat and tried to pick him up, but he jerked away in terror and bounded down the hall, into the depths of the house. A few moments later she heard him meowing pitifully from somewhere in the west wing.

  “Can I ask how you are keeping a cat in here?” Niall said. “We haven’t seen a cat in Scitis since the second year of the witches arrival.”

  Anger flared in Aisling’s veins at his nonchalance. “That’s because you ate them all.”

  Niall shrugged. “Not me. I’m a vegetarian.”

  “Is that true?”

  “Yes. I answered your question. Now answer mine.”

  She didn’t like his demanding tone, but she decided to let it pass, for now. “Widdershins was my grandmother’s cat. He came through the crack when the fey opened up the world, but for some reason, he doesn’t seem to age. He knows this house better than I do. He disappears for days sometimes. I don’t know where he goes, but he always seems well-fed, and sometimes he brings back objects that don’t belong in the house. Once he came back covered in duck feathers, and I’m going to bet there are no ducks in Scitis, either.”

  “No kidding.” Niall gazed around the entrance hall, taking in the marble, the baroque tables stuffed with June’s hideous ornaments, the enormous chandelier creaking above their heads. His eyes darted over the enormous portrait of Lady Greymouth that hung above the staircases and the door to the ballroom. “I’ve never seen a room this big before, outside of the university. And they’re not nearly this beautiful.”

  “You get used to it.” Aisling led him into the west wing, holding open the doors as he could peer inside. “Here’s the library, and the smoking room. Across the hall we have—”

  “Why is that door blocked off?” Niall stopped in front of the dining room, running his fingers along the boards Aisling had nailed across the door.

  “Don’t touch that.” She shoved him aside. As her palms slammed into his chest, a jolt of fire raced through her veins, sending a wave of warmth crashing through her whole body.

  Niall slammed into the wall, knocking a gilded frame askance. “What gives?” He looked petulant. I guess that’s the first time a witch has ever dared to shove him.

  “There are things you need to know about the Hollow,” Aisling said, breathing hard as she stepped away from the door. Her palms still stung with warmth from their connection with his skin. “The house sits part in the fae realm, part in the human world.”

  “I know that,” he huffed.

  Aisling ignored him, continuing. “The two realms butt up against each other, forcing the house apart. And between the gaps, the void creeps in. It’s capturing the house, room by room, altering it into something completely other. If you’re not careful, it will capture you, too.“

  “That’s impossible.”

  “I agree. It is impossible. The Hollow is a paradox. It shouldn’t even exist. But it does, and that’s why it’s more than just a house. You’ll see for yourself. Some rooms change shape. Some rooms change position. I only just found the upstairs bathroom again yesterday. That’s the first I’ve seen it in months.”

  “And this room?”

  “Some rooms, like this one, will eat you alive. It ate my sister.”

  “Your sister?” Niall’s eyes narrowed. “There are more of you in here?”

  Aisling shook her head, steeling herself as a fresh wave of grief rolled over her. She closed her eyes, shutting out Niall’s beautiful visage in an attempt to hold back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She didn’t want to cry in front of a fae, even if it was her dream boy.

  But it was no use. Bethany’s face at breakfast flashed across her vision. A tear
forced itself out the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek. Aisling hated herself for showing Niall that weakness, but Bethany’s death was still too new, too raw. She turned her head away. “No, there’s no one else. I’m alone.”

  “You’re not alone anymore,” the fae said, stepping toward her.

  Aisling’s eyes flew open, the tears instantly dry. His words echoed in her chest, drumming against her pounding heart. His smell swirled around her, an earthy scent of fire and freedom, another world from the mustiness of the house. Aisling looked up, into his eyes, captured by that icy stare. His chest was so close, all she had to do was tip forward and she’d be right up against him.

  Touch me, her body begged. Please, kiss me.

  Niall opened his lips, as though he were about to speak. But no words came out. Aisling fixated on those pouty lips – perfect red bows, like the weapon that hung from his back. She wondered what it would be like to run her tongue along them, to feel them slide over hers.

  This is insane.

  She tore herself away, staggering backward until she slammed into the dining room door. Shrieking, she leapt back, her heart pounding against her chest. She shook her head. Whatever magic had been pulling her toward him, the spell had most definitely been broken.

  “You okay?” Niall asked.

  “Sure, I just …” Aisling rubbed her elbow, where it had banged against the door. “I don’t like touching it.”

  “Fair enough.” He tilted his head to the side, the way her dream boy always did when he was studying her, parsing her meaning from the words she didn’t say. “Shall we continue the tour?”

  Her heart still pounding, Aisling led Niall through the few rooms on the west wing that were still accessible, before bringing him back into the main entrance. As they crossed the marble toward the ballroom, the knocking sound came from the hall they’d just occupied.

  “What’s that?” Niall whirled around. His hand darted instinctively toward his bow, but he didn’t yet draw it.

  “I don’t know,” Aisling said honestly. “I’ve heard the knocking ever since I could remember. Every year it grows more frequent. Here’s the ballroom.”

  As she opened the door, she heard Niall suck in a breath. Aisling didn’t blame him, it was a beautiful room. Gilded deer leapt across the vaulted ceiling, and pillars of wooden vines twisted around the outside of the room. The dance floor – made from cream and black marble arranged in a checkerboard pattern – gleamed as though it had been used only yesterday. A dusty grand piano stood silent in the far corner.

  But as beautiful as it was, the ballroom was also … wrong. The whole thing was the size of a football field (not that Aisling had ever seen a football field, but she’d measured the room and found a description in a book and they were pretty close). It had grown several times its original size, and didn’t seem to want to stop. One wall wobbled, like a jelly mould set out on the table. Bethany had thrown a teacup into it once, and it had never come out again. The floor sank slightly in the center, buckling like a Dali painting. A gilded staircase had appeared in the far corner two years ago – the steps leading in a spiral down into the darkness below. Aisling had never dared to follow it.

  Sometimes, late at night, Aisling heard the fluttering notes of the piano playing the waltz. She wanted to tell the dream boy all this, but she couldn’t. Not while he was standing right there, being all big and menacing and beautiful and fae.

  “You can see where the floor has—what’s wrong?” Aisling looked at him again, and saw Niall’s face had gone pale, the translucency of his skin making him even more beautiful.

  “I’ve seen this room before,” he said. “It was in my dreams.”

  That’s just nuts. How had he possibly seen this room? Aisling narrowed her eyes. “Maybe you just saw a room that looked like it. Lady Greymouth – who designed this house – modeled this room off the manor of Mandalay. A lot of ballrooms of the era follow this style—”

  Niall shook his head furiously. “It was this very room, only it wasn’t yet changed by the house. It was smaller, and that staircase wasn’t there. You were here, dancing to a beautiful waltz. Then I saw a shadowy figure behind you, and the floor opened up and sucked you in. I tried to save you, but I was frozen in place.”

  His face flickered with fear again. Aisling didn’t know what she was supposed to say. She felt the urge to apologize, but she pushed it down. She wasn’t responsible for his dreams.

  “Let’s go to the west wing now,” she said. “You can tell me more about this weapon.”

  As quickly as she could, Aisling led him through the rest of the accessible rooms downstairs, explaining as many of the house’s quirks as she could remember with him standing there, being all gorgeous and distracting.

  As she led Niall along the first floor corridor, where the manor’s main bedrooms were, Aisling noticed the bathroom had disappeared again. When she opened the hallway door where it had been only this morning, all that greeted her was a red-brick wall. A lone spider clung to the mortar.

  Aisling slammed the door shut. Niall laughed. His laugh was like glass shattering, like ice cracking against the edge of a lake. It was cruel and intoxicating, like a force of nature. Against her better judgment, Aisling found herself smiling, too.

  “These are all the rooms. The rest of the house belongs to the void. Let’s have tea.”

  Careful rationing of her grandmother’s tea stash meant that even with the enchantment malfunctioning, Aisling had two whole boxes of English Breakfast on offer. She fixed the tea with shaking hands and brought it into Niall in the blue drawing room. He slumped into her mother’s old chair as though he owned it, his small suitcase still locked beside him, and accepted the fine china cup.

  “Tell me about this weapon,” she said.

  “Hang on, let me taste this first.” He took a tentative sip, then grinned. “Seems to be free of poison.”

  “I’m not kidding around here, fae. Tell me, or I’ll give you a bedroom with an attitude problem to match your own.”

  He grinned at that, but set down his cup and leaned forward. “Fine. Here’s the story. For years, the Quaesitors – that’s the order of scientists – have been trying to find a way to extract magic from objects. As far as we know, we’re the only faction that has anything like the Hollow. We’ve since discovered you witches hid a fair amount of atern in certain other objects as well, and we need that energy. It’s our currency and our life-force, and it used to be endlessly renewable, but now it’s not.”

  “It was only renewable because you came to our world and harvested from humans.”

  Niall shrugged, as if it was no big deal, which to him it probably wasn’t. “You do what you have to do to survive. Anyway, my job was to locate these magical objects, and the Quaesitors’ research has focused on finding a way to extract their atern. My friend Odiana believes she has figured it out, and she’s designed a ray that will draw out atern from any object. Unlike the other rays that have been trialled, this one’s practically guaranteed to work.”

  “When will they use it on the Hollow?”

  “I don’t know. There’s some rigorous testing first. Last time they tried—” Niall’s throat caught on his words. “There have been accidents here before.”

  “I know. I’ve watched you all through the window, aiming rays at the house and digging holes around the place.” She set down her own cup and leaned forward. “You said you had something that would stop them.”

  “I do. Me.”

  “Explain.”

  “Odiana loves me. She’s always had a thing for me, but she won’t say anything about it and risk our friendship. If I’m inside, she won’t use her ray and risk killing me.”

  “If she loves you that much, she won’t just let you remain trapped in here.”

  Niall shook his head. “I wouldn’t expect so, but finding a way into the house is going to take them some time. Meanwhile, you and I will be able to figure out a solution.”

 
“For a rescue plan, this is awfully vague.”

  “It’s better than, ‘Tomorrow, a ray blasts your house into the void.’”

  “True.” Aisling drummed her fingers against the table. “What I want to know is, why have you come here to help me? I know the fae well enough to know you don’t do anything out of the goodness of your heart.”

  Niall gulped a huge mouthful of tea, and swallowed before he said, “I told you. I see you in my dreams.”

  And I see you. The words were on the tip of Aisling’s tongue, but she bit them back. She needed to keep something back, to retain some semblance of control over this situation. Right now, Niall was scared and amenable, but if he got over that, he’d just be an ordinary fae, cruel and capricious. She didn’t want him to have anything on her.

  Hang on … something occurred to Aisling, and it made her stomach lurch. “I saw your face at the window. You looked just as surprised to see me as I was to see you. You didn’t know I was the girl in your dreams when you approached the house, did you?”

  “I did, actually. I just didn’t expect you to be right there beside the window.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, not sure what to believe. That could be true, but then … he was fae. “Anything else you’re not telling me?”

  Niall inclined his head. “I’m being honest with you here, since we’re in this together, so I’ll give you the full story. This house killed my father,” he said. “He was a Quaesitor, and he died testing the last machine. I guess … I wanted to see if he still left something of himself here. I wanted to understand.”

  It seemed he did. As they drank the rest of their tea, Niall asked question after question about the house, and as the minutes turned into an hour, and then two hours, Aisling found herself increasingly opening up to him. As the hours wound by and Aisling talked more to Niall, she felt her unease melting away, Dare she hope that Niall would stay, that her dream boy was truly real?