Ascension (Facets of Feyrie Book 2)

by Zoe Parker

  When he shifts around, obviously uncomfortable, I giggle a little.

  “I will never find another like your Mother.” He clears his throat nervously after answering.

  “Yeah, she was unique, but that doesn’t mean you won’t find another person to love, Dad.” I’m not sure why this is so important to me, but it is.

  Dad doesn’t need to be alone anymore.

  “Besides, ‘bout time you got laid, isn’t it?” I look over my shoulder to meet his eyes and his smile.

  “Are you saying I need a girlfriend?” He smiles as he asks.

  “Or a hooker. It’s up to you.” Prostitutes need money too.

  His laughter warms the room.

  Chapter Nine

  Iza

  Two awkward weeks have now passed since I stepped into the Sidhe for the first time. Since I woke up… different. At least, it’s been awkward for me. Everyone else seems to be doing fine.

  Which is a fact that I’m only a little pissy about.

  To keep my head about me, I’ve spent a lot of time tidying up the grounds and finding odds and ends to fix or do. At first, I was told no a lot and treated like a fragile little flower. Annoyed, I stopped asking to help and started just doing things.

  I’m not good at asking permission. They just give in and help now.

  Currently, I’m out of things to do. So the urge to get away makes me hurry through the dining hall at damn near a run. My plate is full of mashed potatoes and steak that the wonderful house goblins provided for lunch.

  Running doesn’t mean I can’t have lunch.

  Instinctually, my eyes search for the faces of my kids. I find them at a table full of other kids, laughing and smiling. Well, hell. I’m not about to interrupt that. Turning on my heel, I head towards the exit. I’ll eat in my room.

  Every few seconds someone says, “Good day, my lady”, or “Hello, my lady.” It’s starting to get to me because I don’t know how to deal with this shit. It’s more than enough motivation to make me never want to come out of my room again. Or quite possibly throw up on their shoes.

  “Iza, what are you doing?” Alagard’s words stop me dead in my tracks.

  I look up guiltily, holding my plate full of food in front of me like a shield. Taking a few seconds to study the old dragon’s scarred face as I debate how honest I want to be. His brown hair is long, almost as long as his beard. And the scars on his face make him look menacing, although, he’s a big softie.

  And really, he doesn’t scare me at all.

  Alagard was or is my Godfather. He was like a loving uncle to my mother. A weapons master to the Dragon royalty for hundreds of years. He was kind to me as a child, but other than that I have no real memories of him.

  He is extremely loyal to the traditions of his people.

  He also defected from the Dragon Court to come to the Sidhe with Nika. That says a lot for someone who so faithfully served the dragon royalty for so long.

  He came because the throne is here, because my mother’s bones chose to be here.

  Decision made, I admit, “Running.”

  His golden-brown eyes lighten in amusement.

  “From what, lass? No one here is going to hurt you.” He motions for me to walk by patting my shoulder and nudging me forward. He falls into step with me. “Feeling a little overwhelmed?”

  My cheeks heat and I answer, “A bit.”

  He pats me again and steers me into an alcove.

  For some stupid reason, I let him. It’s totally because I don’t want to drop my plate, right?

  “Sit and eat. We’ll talk and see if we can’t help you with that.”

  So, like the little kid I once was in his presence, I sit. He sits across from me, regarding me with kindness in his eyes.

  “Now, what seems to be the issue?” he asks, that kindness now in his voice.

  Nervously, I move the mashed potatoes around with a fork. Part of me wants to shove the plate at him and run, and the rest realizes that’s stupid. Mostly.

  This time, I opt to answer his question instead. “I’m no better than any of them. They are calling me ‘Lady’ and that’s not a title I feel I deserve.” Or understand, really.

  “They do it out of respect, Iza. It’s not meant to set you apart. They are safe here, and it’s because of you,” Alagard says with a smile playing about his lips.

  His amusement makes me feel a bit childish for panicking. Because that’s what I’m doing. Then again, I’m not exactly a social creature. My idea of socializing is watching a TV show, alone.

  “I remember your mother being of the same mind.” At his words, I stop fiddling with my mashed potato disaster. “If memory serves, she spent a week hiding in her room when she was crowned. I had to bribe her with a brand-new sword to get her out of it.”

  “She was pretty good with them?” I ask.

  There are bits and pieces of my mother’s memories still floating around in my brain, but they’re all around my brief time with her. I don’t have any from before my birth.

  And although I’ll never admit it out loud, I love hearing about her.

  “Indeed. Nisha was my best student. I see a lot of her in you,” he adds.

  “I’m not a lady like her, Alagard.” Waving my fork around, I keep talking. “And I wouldn’t mind being your student too.”

  I shove a piece of steak in my mouth to shut up.

  “That can be arranged.” He studies me and then says, “Keep in mind that our people don’t need a Lady, Iza. We need you.”

  “Do what?”

  “Just be who you already are. Who only you are strong enough to be,” he reassures me.

  He smiles, and I give a little smile back. But not for the reason he thinks. Unfortunately, I’m not feeling all gooey inside. It’s more a baring of teeth than a happy one. Who I really am isn’t something any of them have seen.

  “I’m not sure they can handle the real me,” I warn.

  “They seem to be handling you just fine.” He kind of laughs as he says it.

  Chewing another piece of steak, I stare out the window, contemplating his words. Does he realize I’m working extra hard to—behave? Ha, behave. Be nice if that wasn’t the actual truth.

  “I’m not used to being around other people.” Other than Phobe. He is the only one I was comfortable with.

  The kids are hit and miss, but getting better.

  There’s also a good chance that Phobe is coming back. I’m not stupid; I know he was made to do some awful things to the Feyrie. Phobe is the boogeyman to most of them. A fair description, but still. That’s more hassle I don’t need.

  If these people find out who he really is, they will hate him.

  “But you don’t have to be on your own anymore, lass.”

  With a few exceptions I prefer it, but I can’t tell Alagard that. It’ll hurt his feelings. Wait, since when do I care about hurting someone’s feelings?

  All right, sharing time is done, I’m not the best at it, and I think I’ve hit my hard limit. The need to help them is one I can’t fight. Being their savior? Yeah, I can fight that all I want.

  Pain shoots through my head so unexpectedly that I drop my plate and fall to my knees in it on the floor.

  “Iza?” Alagard asks in concern, getting on the floor with me.

  Agony rips through my poor brain. I grab my head and squeeze to try and make it stop. Distantly, I feel the impact of my upper body on the cold stone floor. I try to get up, but I don’t have the ability to do it.

  Instead, my sight turns inward, yanking me down a long, dark tunnel. Pain tears through my head again.

  “Nika!” Distantly, I hear Alagard yell for the healer.

  The tunnel ends abruptly, and I grunt with the impact. Blinking, I look around—no, it isn’t me looking around. What the shit? The interior of a vehicle of some kind surrounds me.

  Help me.

  The words echo in my mind. It’s a girl’s voice, young. My gaze swings around of its own accord. I�
�m seeing through her eyes! Unable to control it, I focus on what I can, I’ll remember if nothing else.

  A man is leaning over me/her. A human man. I start yelling. No! Fight! But when I strike out with my arms they are much smaller than my own.

  In vain, I try to send my Magiks down the connection between us. I try to tell her that I’ll be there, I’ll save her. I try everything I can think of, and nothing works. She can’t hear me.

  Panicking, I latch onto the strongest thing inside of me. Phobe.

  ‘Phobe! Save her!’ I scream in my mind.

  A flicker of something shiny fills my gaze with tears. It’s a knife. No! No! I repeat over and over. Light floods the vehicle and I quickly file away everything I can about the car, the man, just as the light blinds me.

  ‘I cannot, Iza. She is too far away.’ Phobe’s voice flits through my head.

  The connection fractures and as my vision rights itself I find myself looking up from where I lay on the floor, covered in mashed potatoes. Nika kneels on one side of me, Alagard on the other. Angry with myself, with the situation I wave them off and slip and slide until I gain my footing.

  Without a backward glance, I walk quickly towards my room. Right now, I don’t care about trying to look dignified. I break into a run.

  Chapter Ten

  Iza

  Almost to my room, I come to a jarring stop as every hair stands up on my body. My eyes rise from the floor to look up into the fiery eyes of the man who never leaves my thoughts—but left me.

  The man I called out for and couldn’t help me. Help her.

  Suddenly frozen, all I can do is stand there and look at him. Six months he’s been gone. Six fucking months. I also won’t lie to myself—I missed him every second of it. Feeling him out there, somewhere in the world, but never knowing where he was.

  As our eyes hold the world around us fades away, and it’s just the two of us. Each breath syncing as step by step, we draw closer.

  “You heard me, you jackass,” I accuse, recognizing the stupid, angry words coming out of my mouth, but I can’t stop them.

  My anger is real, wrong or not.

  He stops so close to me, I feel his breath on my face as he leans down to rest his forehead against mine. The mashed potatoes squish between our heads, and I don’t care.

  It’s a struggle to hold onto the anger, and I try hard to, but the longer I look at him the more it fades. Logic is starting to take its place. It isn’t his fault. None of this is his fault.

  It’s not just the logic, it’s well, my brain is turning to fucking mush. All I can do is look at him. Drink him in with my gaze. Breathe in the scent that’s uniquely Phobe, and him alone.

  “I will always hear you,” he whispers, his breath warm against my mouth. “I am… apologetic I could not help the child.”

  Like fingers grazing my scalp, I feel him trying to sink into my mind like he always has. But unlike before, I don’t let him. Can’t let him. As hard as it is, things are different now. There is too much left unsaid, undone between us.

  That doesn’t stop me from throwing my arms around him and hugging him for all I’m worth. He might be a jackass, but I’m allowed to miss him. I pull away and plant a sloppy kiss right on his mouth.

  He came back.

  Pulling completely out of his embrace, I step back and simply stare at him. He’s standing there, his lips slightly parted, frowning, the most puzzled look in his eyes. I surprised him.

  Taking his shock as an opportunity to study the changes in him, I do. He’s a little more filled out, no longer having that hungry look he always had in prison. Which means he’s eating more… people.

  His hair is shorter. The long black strands I’m used to seeing touch his shoulders are tamed into a very cool looking, choppy style right down the middle of his head.

  And his ears are pierced. Two shiny opals sparkle in the low light. Phobe’s been watching TV too. Wrapped in his plain black t-shirt and denim jeans, he’s quite a sight to see. All lean muscle and—power. I swear it looks like his skin is seeping black smoke. I blink. His skin is seeping black smoke.

  Rolling my eyes, I keep ogling the show-off.

  Lean feet peek out from beneath the hem of his jeans. He isn’t wearing shoes, but then again, he never did. The swirl of his Magiks along his tattoos is brighter, newer, but so are some of the tattoos. His power has grown, probably from the eating of all the people.

  God, I missed him!

  It only surprises me a little when I pull back and punch him as hard as I can in his pretty face. With a last look at him, I whisper a request to the Sidhe and step through the door that appears on the wall. His laughter follows me into the darkness.

  Chapter Eleven

  Phobe

  A laugh bubbles out of my rapidly healing, broken jaw as she disappears into the wall. Iza is already using the power of the Sidhe. Her power.

  And she hits like a truck.

  My tongue snakes out to lick my lips. The taste of her still lingers there—along with part of her dinner. Standing face to face with her after weeks of watching from the shadows feels good.

  Tasting her feels better.

  Studying the dispersing shadows where she disappeared, I acknowledge that she is adapting to her new abilities well. I am not disappointed in her progress. But she still has a long way to go.

  She is saturated in power. I can see it. Feel it. Want to explore it. Will explore it.

  A whisper of words from my Forlorn—my Fiend counterparts— and I lose the stupid smile on my face. A dragon approaches. Shadows seep out of me and brush against the intruder. Alagard.

  My skin tingles as my glamour locks more firmly into place. Dragons have better eyes than most. This old dragon does not need to know who I am. None of them do.

  “Looks like she is happy to see you, lad,” Alagard says with amusement. “Who might you be?”

  I ignore him. None of these creatures have the right to demand anything of me, no matter how politely spoken. Iza distracts me too much and I do not want them to see the reactions she causes. Those moments are private, and no one should intrude upon them. I flick a gaze to him then dismiss him. Alagard is right: she is happy to see me.

  She is also angry with me.

  Pulling shadows around me, I step into the bits of the NetherRealm that exist in the Sidhe to pursue her. She is ahead of me but not by much. Iza might be able to traverse it here, in her seat of power, but there is no Darkness in existence I cannot traverse.

  A glimpse of her ahead of me and then she is gone. A leap and I am almost on her and then she is gone again. She is good. I will give her that. My claws swipe open air. I miss again. She is exceptional.

  But I am better.

  With a burst of speed, I run along the shadows of the wall to get ahead of her, watching her look behind her and smirk. Teeth bared, I leap and cage her against the stone wall of the Sidhe.

  She looks up at me, anger swirling her eyes like pearls in the moonlight. Then laughter slowly takes its place. Her sharp teeth flash in a smile that gradually fades as something else bleeds into them.

  Desire.

  I can see it, smell it, feel it and every cell inside of me reacts to it.

  With a growl, I fight the urge to do the very thing I wanted to do since I stood face to face with her like this the first time.

  Completely lose myself in her.

  Using every ounce of self-control, I possess, I bury my nose in her neck. Smelling her skin to try and minimally satisfy the unbearable urge to take from her.

  My need for her is primal, our bond deep and often confusing. Iza needs more than physical. I do not know what the more is yet. Figuring it out is at the top of the list. I am not a creature of emotion… not until her.

  Only with her.

  “How long have you actually been back?”

  My face hidden from her, I smile. “A while,” I finally answer.

  “I should punch you again.”

  I stay there
, unfazed by her threat. She can break my jaw ten times over if she wants to. I keep my nose against her skin.

  “Creeper,” she says softly.

  She is teasing me. I lift my head to look at her.

  Pulling back a little more, I unabashedly study her from head to toe. Able to see past her glamour—with her awake and animated, I want to see the changes her ascension has indeed brought about.

  Her Medusa Strands are alive writhing around her head towards me, blacker than the darkest night, with small white teeth flashing in those serpentine strands. Before they were subtle, the little poisonous devils, but no longer.

  The corner of her red lip curls up, and I can see all those lovely sharp teeth. Almost as long as mine, just as deadly.

  Her face is slimmer, making her eyes appear even larger. As I watch, the second lid—a trait she inherited entirely from her mother—blinks sideways, exactly like I thought it would. Her body is still lean, but the bones are no longer as prominent beneath her skin. She looks healthy and monstrous and breathtaking.

  “I missed you, Phobe.” A breath and her arms encircle my waist again. Without a second thought, I wrap mine around her and pull her tight against me. I inhale the scent of cinnamon.

  ‘I missed you too,’ I say to her with absolute truth.

  The bond between us twangs as it tightens. This bond is a curious thing that I do not fully understand. But it is not unwelcome, this attachment to her. Not anymore.

  The Magiks formed it, there is no doubt to that, but they do not make it grow stronger as it has been doing. That is all us. These emotions between us.

  Death cannot even remove this bond.

  And even if it could, I would not allow it. Through this bond I can feel her, feel what she feels. Find her anywhere. I dare anyone to try and take it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Iza

  Monday has become movie night with the kids. With all the newness and people, I’m more than okay with it. Honestly, I miss spending more time with them. They’ve made friends here. They fit in here.