by Eli Constant
“I agree.” I close my eyes and then reopen them. “And in that spirit, you should also know that I’m what the fae call the Blood Queen. Well Blood King is more traditional, but I’m the last of the Bager line and the last heir to the throne.”
“So,” Kyle tries to fight back a smile and fails, “the girl I love raises the dead and is a mythical queen of fairies. I’m not sure I’m worthy.” His grin fades, but not totally. “I don’t understand it all, but that can come with time. I love you, Tori.”
“I know you do.” It’s my turn to be silent and wait for more, for the answers that will come.
“You’re waiting for me to explain what happened, but I can’t.” Kyle’s eyes are tight and I know he’s being honest.
“I’m pretty sure you went into actual beast mode and saved me from my deranged half-brother.”
“You have a brother?”
“A half-brother, operative word being ‘deranged’.” Tears are finally coming now. Just a few, streaming down my cheeks like little dancers who know the drill all too well. They pool in my clavicles, the tiniest lakes imaginable.
“And I saved you?” Moisture is building in Kyle’s eyes. Part of me wants to drop the issue, save him the tears even if I cannot save myself from them, but I can’t. I’m a necromancer and my boyfriend is a… what? I have to know. He has to know.
“It had to have been you; the snow made it hard to see. I was on the ground, Braeden on top of me, and then this giant hairy shape knocked him away. Fast forward and I’m waking up on your sofa and you’re in the middle of changing back to a man from… I think you were a bear.”
“A bear.”
I nod.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Tori. I have no fucking idea.” He starts really crying then, leaning forward in his chair and cradling his hands in his face. The sight of him so overcome dries my own tears and I move from the sofa to sit on the arm of his chair—the one that’s not busted.
“We’ll figure it out, Kyle. I promise we will.” I put my arm around his broad shoulders. “I know that werewolves exist and other forms of lycanthropy. It’s different. Werewolves are… you become a werewolf by being attacked and your shifting is connected to the lunar cycle, but other shape shifters can change at will.”
“And you thought you were the freak.” He lifts his face to look at me and then he pulls me to him, burying his damp face against my neck. I wrap my arms around him and we sit there, for the longest time, just holding one another. It’s amazing what a hug can repair, even when everything has gone to total shit.
When we finally pull apart, we kiss and it’s salty with dried tears.
There’s more to talk about, but we’ll get to that. We have eons to rifle through my notebooks, to learn what Kyle is, to find out if our love will actually survive now that all our secrets have been pulled from the closet and our skeletons are flying like sick flags above our heads.
For now, all that matters is that we’re here in this house together.
I stand up, and it takes some work to wiggle my way off of Kyle’s lap, and I go to the kitchen to make coffee, hoping Kyle has kept all the supplies in the same places Jim did. He follows me after a few minutes, when the dark brew is dripping slowly into the glass pot.
“I love you. I really do.” His voice is brusque, his lips pushed close to my right ear, while his hands play around my waist.
I turn in his arms. “I love you too, Kyle.” It’s the first time I’ve said it and his smile in response is soft and wonderful. “Thank you for…” I don’t know quite what I want to say, “being a man who will take all of me, or at least try to take all of me. Up until yesterday, no one else knew my secret.”
“Yesterday?”
“Terrance figured it out.”
“But you didn’t want to tell me?”
“I didn’t want to tell, him either, Kyle. This secret, people would burn me at the stake if they found out. You get that right?”
He nods slowly, looking down to the floor through the slim gap of space between our bodies. “I won’t let anyone burn you, Tori. Not if I can help it.” He looks up, his silly mischievous grin sprouting on his lips. “Except for me and that will be with a raging fire of passion.”
“That is the single most corny thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.” I roll my eyes and then gasp as Kyle picks me up swiftly and tosses me over his shoulder. The kitchen is so small that I feel my foot hit the counter top and my head nearly bangs into the fridge.
“I think that deserves a spanking.” He pops me on the ass, and it’s not a soft pat either.
“Kyle!” I squirm in his grip, trying to get down. “Put me down!”
“Nope. First sex, then coffee, and then we can continue talking about fairies and powers and all that crazy shit. Besides, I’ve apparently got a beast mode now. I bet you won’t be able to walk after.” There’s a tightness to his voice that taints the joking when he says the words ‘beast mode’, but even so, he carries me out of the kitchen and into the bedroom.
Thirty minutes later, I can attest to the fact that ‘beast mode’ doesn’t always require growing fur.
Chapter Thirteen
Tuesday morning, I wake up to the sound of my cell phone ringing shrilly. It takes a lot of willpower to pull myself out of Kyle’s arms.
The call is from the transport company with Mrs. Hawthorn’s body. They’re at the funeral home and I’m not. Shit. I call Dean, hoping he’ll be able to make his way over to sign the paperwork and open the parlor. He answers on the second ring.
“Dean, the transport people are there with the body. Is there any way you can make it over?”
“Sure, they’ve already plowed the roads my way.” Dean sounds groggy; I’ve woken him up.
“You’re a lifesaver. And sorry for waking you up.” I don’t sound as sorry as I should, because Kyle’s woken up too and his fingers are walking their way up my thighs.
My phone falls from my fingers as I’m saying goodbye. Thank god Kyle hangs up, or he would have heard Kyle and me having dessert before breakfast.
As soon as the city plows have cleared the roads Tuesday morning, we drive back to my place in the Thunderbird. My poor Bronco is a mess—turned upside-down on the side of the road near where I’d abandoned it. It looked like a giant had taken a club to it. I suspect that was the work of my asshole brother.
I’m really, really beginning to hate him. Like, really hate him.
We’d left my beat-up beloved SUV where it was, pinning a yellow shirt of Kyle’s between the door and it’s frame, and now we’re pouring over all of the diaries—grandmother’s and the new ones from my evenings with Liam—trying to figure out what the hell Kyle is. It’s still morning, just past ten, and with the Hawthorn funeral tomorrow being pretty well arranged and her body already embalmed, I have all day to sit and search. Kyle doesn’t of course—he’s already asked Mikey to open the bar for him at noon, but I know him and he’ll want to go check on things shortly after that.
“There’s got to be something in here, something Liam’s said that would tell us what you are or what’s happening to you.” I bite my lower lip, sifting through the same pages I’ve read at least a dozen times already. “I mean, it does sound like lycanthropy, but you should be aware and remember what you’ve done while in animal form. And you would have been born with it or infected by another bear shifter. And you’d remember that too.”
“You’re not going to find something that isn’t there, Tori. Let’s just let it go for now.” Kyle’s sitting at the dining table drinking a soda. One of grandmother’s notebooks is open in front of the coke can.
“No. We need to understand this so we can prepare if it happens again.” I flip another page, my eyes beginning to water from all the reading. I needed to get them checked. Lately, I’d been getting a lot of headaches and smaller font was proving more difficult to read. I was too damn young for glasses. “And I don’t know why you’re still reading grandmother’s jo
urnals. I told you she wouldn’t know anything. It’s all necromancer stuff.”
“You keep searching around for what kind of freak your boyfriend is and I’ll keep reading to understand the freak my girlfriend is.” He keeps a straight face as he says it. I throw a pillow at him. Not one of the adorable cat ones, just a small blue one I picked up last week. It was a really pretty cobalt with little buttons.
“Shut up.” I watch, hoping the pillow makes impact, but it goes wide, landing with a soft plop on the kitchen floor.
“You throw like a girl.”
“Seriously, shut up.”
But we’re both laughing, we can’t help it. There’s so much tension in the air, trying to wrap us up tightly, that we need the humor. It’s the only thing keeping us sane. Or at least, that’s how I feel. I really don’t know what’s going on in Kyle’s brain at the moment.
“Well,” I look down at the page I’ve flipped to, “you’re positive you haven’t been bitten by an animal?”
“Yep, pretty sure I’d know if a bear mauled me or a wolf bit me.”
“I think it would have to be a bear since that’s what you seemed to change in to. I think a lycanthrope can only infect someone with the same form of lycanthropy.”
“According to Liam?” Kyle doesn’t look at me, just continues to read and sip soda.
“Yes.” I don’t elaborate. He’s asked me a few more questions about Liam, sprinkling them here and there in places they don’t really fit. I know he’s curious about him, curious about how much time I’ve spent with him while we’ve been dating.
What am I supposed to do though? Not associate with my fairy guardian? Yeah, maybe. But I’d know a lot less about the preternatural community if I’d kept Liam at arm’s length.
We both continue in silence for a while until Kyle chokes on his drink, bringing my focus back to him rather than the notebook filled with my messy scrawl. “What?”
“You said I looked like a bear. Or you think I was a bear, right?” He stands up from the table and moves to me quickly, coming to rest on his knees next to the sofa. There’s no place to sit, not with the journals littering all the cushions. “Look here.”
“I would have remembered if there was something in grandmother’s teachings.” But I look anyways.
“It’s just a footnote. I almost didn’t read it myself.”
Sure enough, there’s a small paragraph tucked in next to the section about methods for protection. I read it aloud, even though Kyle already knows what it says. “In the olden days, a necromancer would be paired with a Norse warrior for protection. Then, we were revered for our powers instead of feared. These warriors, also known as berserkers, were giant men, known for going into battle without shield or weapon, wearing the pelt of an animal. Most often, the animal would be a bear and the spirit of the bear would lend its strength. They would enter a state of madness while they fought and normally would not remember much, save for a few fractured images. A necromancer could call his or her protector at will. It’s too bad the berserkers have gone extinct. My Victoria could use the protection.”
My eyes grew wide. “I don’t remember ever reading this, but I must have. Maybe I just ignored it because grandmother said they were extinct so I knew it was something I’d never come across.”
“I don’t see how I could be one. My mother’s family was German and French.”
“But Jim’s great-great-grandparents came from Norway. I remember because he showed me their family crest once.”
“Then it’s possible.”
“I think so.”
We sit staring at each other, wondering if it could be true. We don’t have to wonder for long.
“I could have told you what he was last year. In fact, I hinted that he was no more human than I or Blackthorn.” It’s Liam’s voice.
I turn and find him standing in the hallway that leads to my bedroom. He’s in full fae glory, maybe to impress Kyle or maybe because he doesn’t often think about holding onto the glamor of his more human disguise when we’re together anymore. I’ve gotten very good at keeping my more human appearance. Kyle’s never seen me become the white-haired Blood Queen. Maybe he should see it though, to get him more used to the idea of what I really am. Of course, we now know that he can change into a bear. Me going all glimmer-y and pale might not be a big deal to him anymore.
Kyle stands, looking every inch his height. “Liam.”
It’s not a question, but I answer it anyways, hoping up from the couch and placing my body between the sofa and the kitchen table. Or, rather, between my beau and my fairy guardian. “Yes, this is Liam.” I force a smile. “Liam, Kyle. Kyle, Liam. Since you two have never officially met.”
They nod at each other, each holding their body stiffly.
“So, you know what I am.” Again, not a question, but this time Kyle’s clearly directed it at Liam so I don’t see how I can jump in and halt interaction between them. Besides, they’re bound to interact. Nothing to look at here, folks, just my berserker beau and my guardian fairy. Absolutely nothing unusual.
“Yes. And if you’re wondering how it’s possible, here’s your answer.” Liam takes a step forward, but then thinks better of handing the scroll he’s produced out of his cloak straight to Kyle. Instead, he leans forward and gives it to me to hand to Kyle.
I don’t unroll the scroll, thinking it’s Kyle’s business more than mine, but when I’ve handed him the parchment and am going to walk away, he stops me. “Stay.”
I don’t say anything, but I do turn back and focus on his hands as they unroll the yellowing paper.
“Jesus, this dates back—”
“Over a thousand years, back to the last of the berserkers who were beholden to Rollo, the first high leader of Normandy who hailed from Norway and brought his warriors with him to enforce his rule. When he died in the year 928, his son Longsword became ruler and he outlawed the berserkers, saying it was unnatural for such warriors to exist. Those that survived fled and found refuge with your people, Victoria.” He looks at me and I find there’s something hollow about his gaze. Something has happened whilst Liam has been away and I know, in my heart, that whatever it is will be my fault in some way. “They became the guardians to the first Blood King and after the line of the blood power was thought to have died out, they were assigned to exceptionally gifted necromancers. They live a very long time, berserkers, but even they die. We thought the very last of them had gone into the ether decades ago. A man known as Andre the Giant, well before the Rising occurred in human history. Kyle existing means that the lineage is not quite lost after all.”
Kyle is still staring at the family history in his hands; I am staring at Liam—who does not waver from my curiosity. Without thinking, I reach for him with my mind. Liam, what’s wrong?
This is not the time or place, Victoria.
Please tell me. Where’ve you been? Why did you stay away so long?
Another time, Victoria. I promise, I’ll tell you everything another time.
I reach for him with my power and feel the way his heart is pounding. I feel the blood running through his veins. And it tastes differently than it should in my mouth, but I know it is him, that truth is unchanged.
I’ll hold you to it, Liam.
I know you will. I can hear his soft smile in my head, even though his physical lips remain in a hard line.
“So I’m a freak.” Kyle sits down, not bothering to move the journals littering the sofa. “I don’t understand. Why now? What made whatever the hell this is present itself now?”
“Because your Blood Queen was near. Her power called to you, she called for help.” Liam shrugs, as if it is the simplest explanation in the world and so obvious that the question needn’t have been asked.
“But she was in trouble last year and I didn’t…” Kyle struggles for a word, “beast out.”
“Did she call for you though? Were you connected then? Did you…” now it’s Liam’s turn to hesitate, but his hesitation
has nothing to do with vocabulary, “love her then?”
I finally stop looking at Liam to look at Kyle instead. He’s already staring at me, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I knew she was something special the minute I saw her, but, no, I didn’t love her then. Not the way I do now.”
Liam’s voice is tight when he speaks again. “Berserkers often formed strong bonds with the necromancers they protected. They are overwhelmingly female and berserkers are overwhelmingly male, you see. In the few cases that a male necromancer bonded with a male berserker or vice versa, things still worked out… amorously. You love her because of what she is, because of what she brings out in you—your best and strongest self so to speak.”
“He loves me because of my power?” I say the words softly, so quiet that I wonder if the two men in the room will hear me. It seems a strange thing to me. Most of the world hates me for what I am, or they would hate me if they knew. To have someone compelled to love me because of what I am… it felt like I’d entered backwards land, a place that invalidated Kyle’s love.
Kyle does hear me and he’s off the sofa in an instant. “No, I love you because of you, because of everything you are. What I am and what you are is only part of that.”
“You can’t know that.” Liam speaks, saying the words that I’m thinking.
Kyle takes my hands in his and his eyes beg me to believe. “I do know that. I loved you before we found out what I was. That has to mean something.”
“It only means that your inner beast was drawn to her and, when the time came, your beast was drawn out by her. I will not deny that the bond between necromancer and berserker is strong, but it is part of the magic. Nothing more.” Liam is still stood in the same spot, his voice as rational as ever. I want to punch him. I want to hurt him. He’s ruining the goodness between me and Kyle—the goodness that was already on shaky ground.
“Shut up.” Kyle drops my hands and takes a step towards Liam. “You shut the hell up.”
I also move, placing myself once again between Kyle and Liam, but this time, I only have eyes for one. I take his hands again, his fingers feeling so right wrapped around my own, and I use my power to feel him. I feel his blood, warm and dark and racing through his veins. I feel how it moves with a purpose. I feel how it is both animal and human. I listen to the memories inside of the cells.