Faerie Lords Boxset

by Isabella August

  Gabe’s eyes flickered with an odd, distant distress. Jenna felt the heavy pressure of the Looking Glass, leaning in upon them.

  She reached out to take his hands, squeezing them in hers. She forced herself to look him in the eyes, to face down the terrible emptiness behind them.

  “…I shouldn’t have blown up at you,” Jenna told him. “I cared about what you wanted, but I didn’t trust you to know what you wanted.” She hesitated. “I was so glad you stayed, when I found out. And I felt selfish about that. And I took it out on you, which I shouldn’t have done.”

  Gabe tightened his hands on hers. Jenna saw a flash of something real in his eyes. The weight of the Looking Glass retreated just an inch, and hope sprang up in her chest.

  “You don’t have to be a genius for me,” she whispered. “You don’t have to be brave, or ambitious, or… or anything. You just have to be here.”

  The magic of the Looking Glass lifted away, dissolving into the air.

  Gabe met her eyes. There was just an inch more of him now, looking back at her. It was a struggle, she knew. That inch was painful for him — it might as well have been a mile.

  But he had clawed it back for her.

  Jenna threw her arms around him, holding on tight. Relief blossomed in her throat. “I’m trying,” she whispered to him. “I’m trying so hard to sort through all this, Gabe. I know you are too.”

  He held her back, like a last desperate lifeline.

  “Please don’t leave me alone again,” Gabe whispered into her shoulder. “I know it’s selfish. I know I shouldn’t ask. But I… I need you, Jen. I don’t know what I’ll do if you disappear again.”

  The effort it took him to ask — the fear in his voice — hit her right in the gut.

  Her father’s blank, staring eyes.

  “I killed him.”

  Jenna squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her teeth against the memory.

  Gabe had to know. Some part of him knew that she had every reason to run away from him, to hide from what he’d become.

  He was trying to put himself back together. But she could shatter him again so easily, and he knew it.

  “…I promise,” Jenna whispered.

  It felt like a lie, even though she meant the words. But Gabe let out a long, relieved breath, as though she’d lifted a terrible weight from his shoulders.

  Jenna dared to open her Witchsight just a little bit. The crack in the mirrors that made up her bedroom had melded itself together. Only a long, silver scar remained.

  Jenna woke in the warm light of a sunbeam, with Gabe’s arm curled around her waist.

  She leaned back into him, savoring his nearness. Distressed, complicated thoughts threatened at the back of her mind, but she shoved them down and turned in his arms, breathing in the smell of soap and hopeless coffee addiction.

  Gabe shifted in his sleep with a faint mumble. Jenna grinned in spite of herself. It was another familiar echo, a gesture that was unmistakably him. He was so annoyed by the idea that he talked in his sleep. When they were younger, she’d had to record it and play it back for him, just to prove that it happened at all.

  “What was that, Gabe?” she asked, poking him in the chest.

  “Get the bunny out of here,” he muttered. “This is dumb, Jen.”

  With very great effort, she stifled a snicker. “There’s no bunny, Gabe,” Jenna said.

  “What?” He frowned vaguely. “Okay. Fine.” He tugged her closer, the annoyed expression smoothing slowly away again as he dropped off into a deeper sleep.

  “Weirdo,” Jenna told him. She wiggled loose from his arms, glancing around the bedroom.

  The scarred mirror had blurred into view sometime during the night, even without her Witchsight. Jenna blinked at it. For a moment, she found herself taken aback — did I do something wrong? she wondered — but there was a different reflection of her standing next to the door, patiently waiting for her to wake up, and she quickly put things together.

  Jenna scowled. “That is creepy,” she accused the faerie lord. “Can’t you figure out some way to knock?”

  The other Jenna rolled her eyes. She knocked her fist against the door’s reflection — predictably, perhaps, no sound emerged from the mirror.

  “Fine,” Jenna muttered. “You still ought to respect people’s privacy.” She glanced down at Gabe, who’d fallen back into a deep sleep. A suspicion arose within her. “I know he needs his morning coffee,” she said. “But he’s not that much of a deep sleeper. Did you do that?”

  The mirror Jenna smiled pleasantly. It was an eerie expression on her face. “I do that,” she confirmed. She gestured at the door. “You do that,” she added.

  Jenna climbed awkwardly over Gabe’s sleeping form, half-tumbling out of bed. She staggered to her feet, still blinking herself awake. “I fixed one of those cracks in the Looking Glass,” she said, as she headed for the door. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  “I wanted those cracks fixed,” her own voice replied. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  Jenna headed out into the university hallway, yawning. The walls rippled into mirrors as she walked, allowing her reflection to keep pace with her. “Yeah,” she said. “We’ve got mutual goals. Great. I’m still not your biggest fan. Gabe wouldn’t even be in this mess if you hadn’t turned him into a warlock.”

  “You turned him into a warlock,” the faerie lord corrected her. “Gabe wouldn’t be in this mess.”

  Jenna whirled on the mirror. “Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

  Her reflection regarded her calmly. “Just what that mean,” she said. “If Gabe not your biggest fan, wouldn’t be in this mess.” She turned to look toward the door outside. “We’ve got mutual goals.”

  Jenna pressed her lips together. “You know where there’s another crack,” she said.

  The other Jenna’s eyes flickered silver. “You know,” she said. She gestured for the door.

  Jenna sucked in a breath and shoved the door open.

  The sun had been shining inside her bedroom, and in the university. New York City was still dark for some reason, though. Stars shone overhead on lonely, empty streets.

  Mirrors rippled into being along the buildings next to her. Jenna trailed her own reflection, winding her way deeper into the city. The streets grew slowly darker and more cloaked in shadows as she went. An uneasiness settled upon her.

  “…so we’re not going to a nice part of town, I take it,” she muttered at herself.

  “We’re not,” the faerie lord confirmed.

  The Lord of the Looking Glass turned to face Jenna, her silver eyes flashing… and Jenna realized where it was that the creature had taken her.

  The apartment door should have been on the fourth floor. It should have been up a crappy elevator, and down a long hallway. Instead, the scratchy black welcome mat was hidden down a dark alleyway, tucked away where no one would ever willingly go wandering.

  Jenna stared down the door to the apartment where she and Gabe had grown up together. A great, painful gash of splinters showed openly upon it.

  “…fuck,” she said quietly.

  “Fuck,” agreed the Lord of the Looking Glass.

  Jenna hesitated, her fingers hovering just over the splintered door. What if this is it? she wondered fearfully. What if this is that night?

  Moonlight trickled through her fingers. She pressed her lips together. There was no point in putting it off. A hundred different things seemed to be riding on Gabe’s sanity right now… and if he couldn’t face what had happened, then there wasn’t much choice but for Jenna to do it for him.

  She pressed her fingers to the glass, and summoned up her magic.

  Her father’s voice whispered through the mirror.

  “You’re not my son.”

  She clenched her teeth… and walked through the glass.

  “I do not have the time to be picking you up from the principal’s office.” Her father was
there in front of her, clear as day. Robert Wright was still wearing his business suit, with his long, yellow tie tucked into his vest. A series of golden rings glinted on his left hand — anchors for his Leo magic, though few people looking at him would have known as much.

  Gabe — a young Gabe, maybe twelve or thirteen years old — followed along behind him, his hands in his pockets and his eyes to the floor.

  Her father turned to look at Gabe, severe. “This isn’t going to happen again,” he said. “I might be your guardian, Gabriel, but you’re not my son. Jenna is sick, and she needs my attention. If your presence here starts distracting me from her, I will call up your aunt, and you will be on the first bus out to Massachusetts that I can find.”

  Gabe flinched. His shoulders caved in, making him look smaller than he already was.

  Jenna stared at her father, horrified.

  “Stop ignoring me,” he said to Gabe. “Look me in the eyes. I want you to tell me that you understand, Gabriel. Otherwise, I can start looking up bus tickets now.”

  Gabe trembled. Slowly, he forced his eyes upward. “Yes,” he managed. “I… I understand.”

  “Good,” said her father. “Now get inside. Tomorrow, you’re going to apologize to the boy you hit, and to your teacher, and to the principle. And from now on, you’re going to be an absolutely model student, so that we never have this conversation again.”

  “Yes sir,” Gabe whispered.

  Her father loosened his tie, and shoved open the door.

  Gabe scurried past him, his eyes down on the floor again. Jenna followed after him, her heart in her throat.

  The scene shifted subtly as she crossed past the scratchy black mat and headed inside. Gabe was older now — sixteen? she wondered — sitting awake at the kitchen table with a textbook out in front of him.

  “Isn’t it a bit late to be reading, dear?” Jenna’s mother stood in the doorway to her bedroom, blinking sleepily.

  “Going to bed soon,” Gabe told her distractedly.

  Kaitlyn Wright padded over toward him with a yawn. She glanced down at the book in his hands. “My,” she mused. “Your science class is ambitious, isn’t it?”

  “Biology,” Gabe mumbled. “I asked for recommendations. If I can ace a few tests, I might be able to get to medical school a little quicker.”

  Jenna’s mother sat down in the chair next to him, with a sympathetic look on her face. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said. “I… I think it’s wonderful what you’re doing. But medical school is a lot of money. You might need to think about some smaller goals before then. Baby steps, you know?”

  Gabe curled his fingers on the table. “I just need a scholarship,” he said. “I’ll figure it out.”

  “That strikes me as highly unlikely.” Jenna’s father had stepped out of the bedroom, his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s late, Katie. We should all be in bed.”

  Kaitlyn shot him a frown. “Couldn’t you manage a little more tact, Robert?” she asked.

  Robert frowned back. “A lot of doctors have thrown a lot of medication at this by now,” he said. “One more isn’t going to solve it, and you know why.”

  Gabe stared down at the textbook in front of him, carefully silent.

  Jenna bit at her lip. Gabe’s not supposed to know about the magic, she thought.

  Kaitlyn sighed, and pushed back up to her feet. “We can keep talking about this tomorrow,” she told Gabe gently. “Jenna’s asleep, and you should be too.”

  Robert took her by the arm, guiding her toward the bedroom. As she disappeared inside, he paused in the doorway, and turned back to look at Gabe.

  “It should go without saying,” he said patiently. “I’m not paying for your college, Gabriel.”

  Gabe swallowed minutely. “I didn’t expect you to, sir,” he said.

  Jenna’s father nodded slowly. “Good,” he observed. “I’m glad we don’t have to have that conversation.”

  The bedroom door closed behind him. Gabriel sat at the kitchen table for a long, spare moment… and picked back up the textbook.

  Jenna settled herself slowly down into the chair that her mother had just vacated. She watched Gabe for a long while, with her lips pressed together.

  “I never knew about any of this,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me, Gabe?”

  The younger Gabe paused uncertainly over his book. “…you were sick,” he said. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “Was… was my father always like this with you?” Jenna asked hesitantly.

  “I always wondered if you noticed,” Gabe said. He turned a page in his book. “I thought maybe you knew, and just didn’t want to say anything.” He said it so casually, without any sort of blame attached.

  Jenna closed her eyes. “…I didn’t know,” she told him. “I thought he was a little snappy sometimes. But I didn’t realize it was directed at you.” She pressed her hands to her face. “Oh, god. This is my fault. I bullied him into letting you stay.”

  “I didn’t want to leave,” Gabe said softly. “I could have.”

  “You should have left,” Jenna said. “You deserved better than this, Gabe. People who loved you and wanted you around—”

  “I had that.” Gabe glanced back toward the room where a memory of Jenna still slept. “I had you.”

  Jenna shook her head, lifting her face from her hands. “Is this why?” she asked, in a hushed, horrified voice. “Is this why you did what you did?”

  Gabe frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

  Jenna felt a pang of disappointment, mixed with agonizing relief.

  This part of Gabe doesn’t know about that, she thought. He’s hidden it somewhere else.

  “I didn’t know,” she said again. “I would have said something, if I did. I’m so sorry, Gabe.”

  “I don’t like it when you’re sorry,” he told her. He closed his book neatly, glancing over in her direction. “I’m just glad you didn’t know. Is that weird?”

  Jenna swallowed. “You’ve always been weird,” she told him. “But this one seems pretty normal to me.”

  Gabe smiled her way. “I guess I’ll take that,” he said.

  Jenna reached out to ruffle his hair. I used to do that, she thought. He hated it.

  Sure enough, Gabe shot her a dirty look. “Do you know how hard it is to keep my hair from going everywhere?” he complained.

  Jenna grinned at him. “Yeah,” she said. “I like your hair all over the place. That’s why I mess it up.”

  Gabe rolled his eyes. “You’re such a girl,” he said. He shoved himself up from the table, and headed for the bedroom where her memory slept. “I need some sleep,” he told her. “Chill on the guilt, would you? You’re already giving me a headache.”

  Jenna let out a long breath. “…I’ll try,” she said. “Can’t promise anything.”

  He opened the door gently, careful not to make a sound. As he slipped inside, the kitchen blurred away…

  …and Jenna found herself staring down at a scratchy black welcome mat.

  Chapter 8

  Jenna’s reflection waited impatiently for her, arms crossed over her chest.

  She took a deep breath… and forced herself to say some very unpleasant words.

  “I need to talk to Adrian,” Jenna told the faerie lord. “Where did Gabe stash him?”

  Her reflection raised a single eyebrow. “Need to talk to Adrian?” the faerie lord repeated skeptically.

  “Yes,” Jenna sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “I’ve got a lot of work to do in not much time. I don’t know if you know this, but when people break their minds, the healing process is normally supposed to take years. Adrian might be a lying shitheel, but he’s still an expert at speeding up that process.”

  “He’s still a lying shitheel,” the Lord of the Looking Glass observed.

  Jenna snorted. “Yeah. I’m not saying I intend to trust his advice implicitly. But he’s in a tiny bit of existential trouble
at the moment, so maybe he’ll consider the virtues of honesty in this case.”

  The faerie lord narrowed her eyes. “…I intend to consider existential trouble,” she said warningly. “In this case, he’ll consider honesty.”

  “…yeah,” Jenna said, after a moment. “Okay. I think I can get behind that this time.”

  The other Jenna’s eyes flashed silver. “Get behind,” the faerie lord commanded her.

  Jenna’s reflection turned away from the dark alley, and headed back out into the starlit streets of New York City.

  Adrian was in somewhat less dire circumstances than Jenna might have expected, based on the faerie lord’s less-than-pleasant reaction.

  She found the vampire in the eerily empty Java Lounge, blandly sipping at a cappuccino. As she walked in through the front door, she saw him blur from his seat with sudden alacrity, moving to escape the café…

  …only to slam, face-first, into a transparent pane of glass.

  The wallpaper rippled into a mirror. The Lord of the Looking Glass looked on wearing Adrian’s form, with a laughing sneer on his face.

  Adrian groaned from the floor. Jenna didn’t bother to suppress her snort. “Morning, sunshine,” she said. “Had a little too much caffeine?”

  The vampire blinked red eyes at her. “Jen?” he mumbled.

  She grasped at a shaft of moonlight, twisting it around to coil at his throat. His eyes widened at the purely physical display of magic.

  “Do not call me that,” Jenna hissed at him. “You bloodsucking, medieval parasite.”

  Adrian sucked in his breath, still staring at the serpentine moonlight that wavered just beneath his chin. “What… exactly would that do to me?” he asked carefully.

  “I really don’t know,” Jenna told him. “In the real world, it would probably dig up your worst memories and feed them back to you bit by bit. But in Arcadia…” She shrugged. “Maybe your worst fears will show up to have a word with you in-person.”

  “…so this is Arcadia,” Adrian observed, with a calmness that she was sure he didn’t really feel. “I suspected, but I wasn’t entirely sure.” He closed his eyes. “All right. This is entirely fair. I understand why you’re upset.”