by Evelyn Avery
The lights came back on, brighter than before, but accompanied by an oppressive silence. I didn’t have to look around to know I was suddenly alone. Vaughn and Chloe had disappeared, along with everyone else in the bar. Empty tables and chairs met my gaze and the oppressive noise of a lively scene
Take me away.
Save for one man.
Take you away.
A man who shouldn’t exist outside of my sexually-charged nightmares.
Take us away.
Killian Everdawn, Prince of Dreams and Illusion, High Royal of the Summer Court.
The Erlking.
As I stared at a face as cruel as it was beautiful, I realized that no piece of art I’d ever created had done him justice. He was beauty carved in marble that had been made fluid and alive while losing none of its unreality. My eyes burned as if the perfection of his face was more than my mortal gaze was capable of comprehending. It simply hurt to look at him, in every possible way.
Hair so pale it was nearly white slipped down his back and nearly to his waist, moving in a breeze that I couldn’t feel. Cruel eyes so colorless that they were like chips of ice stared down at me. My eyes burned with unshed tears as I tried and failed to meet his gaze, like staring into the sun while ignoring the burning heat.
“They call you Isabella.” He whispered my name like an incantation. “I understand it means pledged to God. I wonder which god they mean.”
And this was as close as I could ever imagine coming to staring into the face of a deity—if one were to exist. That was how I knew none of this could possibly be real. I had to be losing my mind.
“Stop it!” I squeezed my eyes closed and pulled at my hair, fingers digging in hard enough that my nails were probably drawing blood on my scalp. The pain should bring me back to reality and tear me away from this impossible vision.
But when I opened my eyes, a gaze the color of bubbling champagne filled my vision. The amusement there was a palpable thing.
I wondered distantly if the color changed slightly with his moods.
My voice was little more than a squeak. “You’re not real.”
He laughed at me. The sound sent shivers of awareness down my spine, like painful pricks that left a shimmering and pleasurable heat in their wake. “I’m as real as the dust and wind that shapes the universe. I’m as real as the fantasies of mortals that give birth to a dozen realms, each the stuff of dreams and nightmares.”
Feeling lightheaded, I briefly wondered why a total figment of my imagination would be talking in fanciful riddles. “You’re a hallucination.”
“I’m real enough to touch.”
He reached out a hand as if to stroke my face but stopped just short of touching. Cold emanated from his skin, like a chill wind blowing across your face when you step outside in winter.
Real enough to hurt.
Pain always worked to bring me back to reality. When things got really bad, I used to cut myself. Greta found out and threatened to have me hospitalized again if I didn’t stop doing it. She assumed I’d been practicing for an attempt at suicide. But I had needed to watch the blade slide across my skin, feel the bright ache of pain as red pooled in the fresh wound. Hurting myself had never been about dying.
It had been about reminding myself I was still real.
There was a steak knife lying on the table beside me, and I reached for it. The Erlking’s eyebrows rose as my hand gripped the plastic handle, but he made no move to stop me as I brought the sharp edge of it to my wrist.
I had to be dreaming. Nothing could hurt you in a dream. Even when you fell from impossible heights in dreams, you were always awake before you hit the ground.
My hand shifted up so the very tip of the blade dug into the thick skin of my palm. The first drop of blood momentarily fascinated me, so stark and brightly red even in the dim light of the bar. Initially, I only felt the pain distantly, like it was something I remembered happening to me a long time ago.
But the pain was still there.
His voice was chiding. “That was a very silly thing to do.”
A scrap of linen appeared in his hand, and he tossed it to me. It caught in the air as if floating there. I grabbed it because I didn’t want to know if it would have fallen to the ground or stayed suspended.
Magic wasn’t real. Magic couldn’t be real.
But those were drops of my blood on the floor, and the throbbing pain where I cut myself was too much to be imaginary.
It sounded nuts to hope that my meds had stopped working, and the hallucinations were back. But otherwise, my entire life was about to fall apart. Everything I thought I knew about how the world worked would be just another dirty trick.
Possible explanations ran through my mind. Vaughn hired an actor to pretend to be a character from my play as a practical joke. Chloe would have jumped on that idea like good dick if he brought her in on it. For all I knew, they’d been planning this for weeks. Get me here and have everyone hide after the lights go out, so I looked like a mental patient having a freak-out. Pay off the staff of the Stockhouse, and now everyone was part of the hilarious trick. It was like a surprise party, only terribly cruel.
“Okay, you guys can come out now,” I called to the empty taproom, even as my heart hammered in my chest. “This is hilarious and all, but it’s getting more pathetic by the second.”
The Erlking watched me with an expression that almost looked like sympathy, but there was a malicious gleam in his eyes.
“You poor, precious thing.” He snapped a finger, and my shift dress was instantly transformed.
Now, I was wearing a gown identical to the one that Vaughn found in the costume closet, so close that it could be the exact same, one and I wouldn’t know the difference.
My fingers shook as I touched the fine beading at my waist. “How—”
“You know. Because you believe in magic.” It wasn’t a question. He tilted his head to the side, staring at me as if memorizing the curve of my chin and the sharp angle of my brow. “You’ve always believed, even when the whole world called you mad.”
This had to be a hallucination, the most compelling one that I’d ever experienced. Even slashing my hand with a steak knife wasn’t enough to bring me out if it.
For the first time, I had some sympathy for all the mental health professionals who worked with me over the years. This must be what it felt like to talk to someone without even the smallest grip on reality. “This isn’t real. I’ve either gone completely crazy or . . .”
I trailed off because putting it into words was simply too much.
“Nothing is more real than the precious blood dripping from your hand. There is much I’d offer you for a taste of it.”
I stumbled back, running hard into the table behind me. More pain that should bring me back to myself, but didn’t. Even though I’d imagined him exactly this way, the potent sexuality still overwhelmed me when he stood this close.
If this was all a dream, then soon I’d wake up, and no harm would have been done. If not, there wasn’t any time to waste on questioning this devastating new reality.
My mouth was dry, but I forced myself to speak. “What do you want from me?”
It was the wrong question to ask. His smile widened to reveal teeth just a touch too sharp to be human. “To show you your dreams. Come with me, and everything I have will be yours.”
I felt a yearning so deep that it nearly doubled me over. From the seductive look he cast over my body, he sensed it in me.
But even if all of this existed entirely in my head, I knew better than to say yes.
Steeling my resolve, I glared at him. “So you can suck my life away to sustain your power? No thanks. I made up this story, so don’t expect me to fall for your tricks.”
His head tilted to one side, watching me with eyes that were almost too large for his face and tipped on the sides like a cat. Or an alien. Because I couldn’t stop the fanciful ideas from popping into my head at the worst times, I wondered if
our conception of little green aliens was influenced by the fae. Perhaps some prehistorical human caught sight of a faerie and underestimated just how foreign its origins might be.
Except, none of this was real. I had to keep reminding myself of that until I believed it.
He seemed amused as he studied me like he could tell precisely what I was thinking. “It is fascinating to me that you think you have a choice.”
“The Erlking steals girls away only when they’ve asked for it. Which I didn’t. And won’t ever.” I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling smug. Even the sexiest hallucinations could be outsmarted.
“I had hoped it would be you to say the words,” he acknowledged with a small nod, that infuriating smile still playing at his lips. “But you aren’t the only pretty little human who knows the right words. And you have no one but yourself to blame for that.”
The right words.
I stared at him, the slowly growing horror apparent on my face.
“Those who call his name in the liminal space, between what was and what will be, and make their demands become the Erlking’s to take.” He repeated words from my play verbatim as if they were a magical spell.
And perhaps they were.
I shook the thought away with an effort. “Even if the Underground is real, which it’s totally not according to every psychiatrist I’ve ever met. Only Chloe said the words, and she didn’t even mean them.”
“Intent has nothing to do with it,” he chided. Long pale fingers stroked his lips, and the movement was hypnotizing. “I am compelled to take what is mine. Both of them.”
My gaze snapped back to his mercurial eyes. “What do you mean by both?”
“The boy is mine to take as well.”
“Only Chloe said the words!”
“She said us. I chose to interpret that as I pleased.”
A phantom hand squeezed my heart, making it impossible to breathe. “You can’t have him.”
The Erlking smirked, clearly not missing that I said him and not them. “You can’t stop me.”
“No—”
“But perhaps we can make some sort of bargain.”
Humans should never bargain with the fae. That rule was in every story, some warning in every version, from the British Isles to Timbuktu. The fae didn’t bargain unless they knew they had the upper hand. Even though they couldn’t lie, the truth could be stretched and warped so far that it was nearly indistinguishable from an actual falsehood.
A faerie deal never worked out well for the human involved.
But he had taken Vaughn. And I didn’t want Chloe getting the life sucked out of her, no matter how much she sometimes annoyed me. “What sort of deal?”
“The only kind that matters. One in which lives are on the line.” His gaze traveled down my body, lingering at the low-cut neck of my dress then dipping to the curve of my waist. “And bodies. And souls. The only things which truly have any value. Come to my realm and face the challenges of my labyrinth. If you succeed in time, then all of you will be returned to this drab little world with no lasting harm done to you.”
The Erlking was no covetous dragon hoarding gold in its mountain cave. He dealt in a very different kind of currency.
Blood. Bone. Flesh. Life.
I knew that because I was the one who came up with it. “Speak plainly. No flowery language or innuendo. What will you get if I fail?”
“You,” he said, so plainly that it was still a shock even though I knew something like it was coming. “All of you. Without resistance or restraint.”
“Not even a safe word? The local BDSM club would have something to say about that.”
I couldn’t believe I just made that joke. My face was already heating with what I knew was a fiery red blush. He merely smirked.
“Do we have a deal?”
“Will you tell me what you want with me? You could simply just take them and be done with it.” I told myself it was curiosity that compelled me to ask and not pride. It only made sense for me to be at the center of the fantasy that I had created. And perhaps he simply wanted to take as many of us as he could get his hands on.
“Perhaps. If the mood strikes. But no, not now. Now you haven’t the time.” He held his hand out flat, hovering over my upper chest where the cut of the dress left an expanse of skin bare. Even though he didn’t touch me, heat grew on my flesh until it felt near to burning.
I let out a cry of pain, and he pulled away. When I looked down, the same lariat necklace that Vaughn had tried to get me to wear in the costume room was around my neck.
That was how I knew this had to be a product of my overactive imagination. Too much of the real world had mixed in with the fantasy. My fractured mind was never good at telling the difference between what I remembered and what I’d only imagined.
Uncut stones in colors ranging from the lightest pink to deepest purple and brightest yellow to forest green were suspended on the chain that trailed down my chest, reaching nearly to my waist. As I watched, they all became transparent, as if the colors had only been a trick of the light. When I touched the highest one, it was cold against my fingers.
“Each stone represents an hour of time in your world. Watches and clocks will be of no use to you in my realm. Time moves . . . differently.” He gestured to the stone under my fingers, which had already begun to darken in color again as I watched. “Their color will brighten with each passing moment. By the time all the color has returned to the last stone, you must have reached the other side of my realm and escaped. Otherwise, you will be trapped there forever.”
I didn’t need to be told that forever in the Underground would feel significantly longer than the average human lifetime.
Thirteen stones for thirteen hours. Thirteen hours. It took longer than that to get across L.A. County during rush hour.
My hand fell to my side. “That doesn’t sound fair.”
“It isn’t, and it never will be.” He inclined his head in a nod of acknowledgment, but anticipation flashed in the crystalline depths of his eyes. “Do you agree to our bargain?”
As if I had any choice in the matter at all. “Fine.”
His smile was feral. “You have to say it.”
“I agree with your deal. If I can cross your realm before thirteen hours are up, then I go home with my friends. If I fail, you keep all of us.”
The ground shifted under my feet, even though nothing had moved. It was as if the world had taken in a giant breath of anticipation and was waiting to blow it out. Nothing visibly changed, but I knew something fundamental, like the very fabric of the universe, had altered.
It was so easy for me to fall under the spell of my imaginings.
The triumphant look on his face made it clear that the Erlking considered the game already won. I wanted to slap the smugness off his face but consoled myself with the determination to meet his challenge and crush it.
Thirteen hours? I’d do it in half that time.
Although, I was smart enough not to say that out loud. That was another rule of dealing with the fae. If you gave them politeness, then they would probably give it back. Give them something else, and they’d return it to you a thousandfold.
“You make it sound so easy.”
I’d never seen irises that were truly silver in color before now. His eyes clearly changed from one shade to another, depending on some unknowable whim. Now they were illuminated with anticipation. That gaze like liquid moonlight bored into me as if he could sense my bravado and wanted to crush it under his boot.
I raised my chin. “You issued a challenge, and I’m meeting it. What more could you possibly want from me?”
“Such an insolent girl.” He slid back a step, so the path in front of me was clear. His arm swung gracefully wide as he gestured for the door. “Step forward and meet your destiny.”
I couldn’t hold back a scoff. “You sound like the cut scene at the beginning of a video game.”
It was impossible to know if he got the jo
ke, but his eyes narrowed as he regarded me, if just from my tone alone. “You should think of your words as tally marks in a ledger. When you become mine, I will collect my due. Consider this your only warning.”
A shiver worked down my spine as I momentarily contemplated precisely what he meant by collecting his due.
I want all of you, without resistance or restraint.
I should be afraid, and I was, but another and even less welcome sensation wormed its way through my insides. “I won’t apologize to you, not after what you’ve done.”
He only smiled as I stepped past him and went to the door of the bar. Tension sang through my body as I passed, but he made no move to touch me. I couldn’t decide if I was disappointed or relieved.
At the threshold, I looked back to see that he had moved to the table that had been behind me. I’d set the handkerchief he gave me on the wooden surface and left it there when the bleeding stopped. My hand ached, a reminder of the blood I’d spilled even though I’d forgotten about the wound until seeing the makeshift bandage reminded me.
The Erlking picked up the bloodstained square of linen and brought it to his lips. I only realized too late that I should never have put it down. Pieces of yourself, like your name, your dreams, and most definitely your blood, could be used to hold power over you.
I’d already made my first mistake, and we hadn’t even begun.
I expected to walk out the door of the Stockhouse and into a fantasy, but that wasn’t what happened.
Instead, I found myself overlooking the Los Angeles skyline as the wind whipped around me, catching in the train of my dress and chilling my skin. The starless sky was dark overhead, but it was impossible to mistake where we were.
This was not some domain of the imagination. The Erlking hadn’t magicked me across stars and space into another world. We hadn’t even left Los Angeles, save for the fact that we were one thousand feet above the ground.
I was on the roof of Wilshire Grand Center, which also happened to be the tallest damn building in the city.