Grave Memory: An Alex Craft Novel

by Kalayna Price

  “Alexis.” My name, whispered so soft it barely made it past the buzz of shock in my ears.

  I’d never heard my name said with so much heartbreak tangled in the simple syllables. I blinked.

  “Alexis, I love you.”

  Now that got a reaction from me, and I startled at the barely whispered words. I’m not sure if I made a sound or if he felt me jerk, but he pushed away from the tree so he could meet my eyes.

  “You can’t trust me,” he said, his hands falling from the tree to my shoulders.

  I blinked at him, my brain muffled in shock so that all I said was, “You can talk now?”

  Falin pressed his lips into a tight line. “She froze my voice only until I completed her task. Ryese told her that you don’t eat at the Bloom. She wanted to see what would happen if you ate our food.”

  Too many shocks had struck me in the last few minutes, so this newest one took me a moment to get my still reeling mind to wrap around.

  “Then she…You…?” I hadn’t had time to consider it, but I’d assumed he’d handed me the flute as thoughtlessly as I had drunk from it. But if the Winter Queen had wanted me to eat Faerie food. If she’d told him to make sure I did…“You did that on purpose.”

  He squeezed his eyes closed. When he opened them again, they were blue ice. Cold. Emotionless. His hands slid from my shoulders to my upper arms, and he gripped me tight. The bullet wound on my arm screamed in agony, making me wince.

  “You can’t trust me. Do you understand?”

  “You’re hurting me.” My voice sounded a hell of a lot calmer than I felt. I’d have been proud of that fact, except it was from the shock, not any great inner strength on my part.

  “Good,” he said, but he frowned and his grip loosened. “As long as I belong to her, you can never trust me. I have to do whatever she commands. So don’t call me, don’t look for me, and if you see me, run away. Do you understand?”

  I didn’t say anything, and he squeezed my arms again, hard. It was meant to hurt. Even if I hadn’t had the wound, it would have hurt. I yelped, I couldn’t help it, and Falin shook me.

  “Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I said between pain-locked teeth.

  “Then go.” He released me. When I didn’t move, his face contorted. “Go. Now.”

  Still I hesitated, and his blades appeared in his hands.

  That got me moving. I darted around him, breaking into a run.

  I glanced back only once, when I reached the tree line.

  Falin had dropped to his knees in front of the tree, his head hanging low, and his daggers driven into the ground on either side of him. I almost stopped. Almost went back to him. But I didn’t.

  After all, I had no idea what other commands he’d received from the Queen Ice Bitch.

  Chapter 28

  Returning to reality after a day in Faerie was like being pulled out of a dream by a splash of cold water. And then being smothered by the wet pillow.

  The music cut off abruptly. The air, which in my previous breath held the earthy smell of the forest and heady laughter, was now too thin, too sharp. It smelled of car exhaust and metal, and it grated against my skin like steel wool. Grave essence, which hadn’t existed in Faerie, crashed against my shields, reminding me that the world around me was dying. Darkness crawled over my vision and for a moment I thought I was blind, but no, it was night, dark, and my eyes were back to their normal, damaged state.

  Burning hot tears welled in my eyes. Some were of self-pity. Some were because in returning to reality, to what should have been home, I felt like I’d lost a part of myself. But most were from anger at Falin’s betrayal. I rubbed my arms where he’d squeezed me, intentionally causing pain, and a shiver ran through me as I remembered the glint of his blades in the moonlight.

  A tear escaped and seared a line down my cheek. I blinked back the rest—they wouldn’t help anything. Why waste energy on what I couldn’t change?

  But that betrayal hurt. Even though I knew it wasn’t his fault. That he was bound to the commands of his queen. It still made an agonizing ache twist under my sternum.

  He’s right. I can never trust him. Not while he was hers.

  I lifted a hand to whisk away the single tear that had escaped and stopped, staring. My fingers shimmered in the darkness. My hands too, as well as my arms and what I could see of my shoulders and chest. I was glowing, pale light seeping from my skin like moonlight caught just below the surface.

  Like a Sleagh Maith.

  This can’t be happening. But it was. Even my hair glowed, casting a halo of gold light. Damn the Winter Queen. She’d wanted to see what would happen if I ate Faerie food? Well, it apparently turned me into a glowworm.

  And I had no idea how to stop.

  How the hell was I supposed to pass for human if I could double as a reading lamp? Maybe it isn’t as noticeable as I think? After all, just because I could see something, didn’t mean other people saw it as well. Maybe I glowed on some other plane.

  Only I wasn’t actively touching any plane besides mortal reality.

  I looked around. In the predawn the streets were quiet, empty. The early-morning hours, long after the bars had made last call and before business owners prepared for the day ahead, were one of the few times things were quiet in the Quarter. Which I was thankful for—except that there were no taxis and the buses weren’t running yet for the day. I briefly considered calling Tamara, but dismissed the idea. One, I was glowing and I wasn’t ready for the big “F” conversation. And two, if she was already awake she was getting ready for work, and if she wasn’t, I didn’t want to wake her. I’d been asking for far too many favors recently.

  I glanced behind me at the door, waiting to see if Caleb and Holly were right behind me. I’d left hours before the end of the revelry, but the slowly brightening sky proved I’d lost the full twenty-four hours just as Rianna had warned. Holly and Caleb would lose the same, but apparently not the exact same because the door remained shut.

  What was I supposed to do now? I didn’t have my purse as I’d known I wouldn’t need it in Faerie. I only had my phone and my keys. I paused. My key ring did include the keys to the Tongues for the Dead office, and while it wasn’t the most casual walk away, the Quarter had been designed for foot traffic. It was also considerably closer than Caleb’s house and would get me off the street while I figured out what to do. Turning on my heel, I headed in the direction of the office.

  I’d made it a block when a car turned the corner in front of me. The red glow of the brake lights flashing was the first indication something was wrong. I glanced up, hoping for a taxi. After all, who else would be stopping but a taxi that assumed I was a good chance at a fare?

  But no, not a taxi. A silver coupe slowed to a crawl as it approached. I couldn’t see how many people were inside, but I felt the stares. Even seventy years after the Magical Awakening, spotting an unglamoured fae on the street wasn’t common—I’d once thought that was because they didn’t like being gawked at, and in part that was true, but recently I’d learned that most used tightly woven glamours to insulate themselves from the iron in the mortal realm. I wasn’t nine feet tall, blue skinned, winged, horned, or any number of the much more other aspects many of the fae displayed, but apparently glowing was enough.

  I hunched forward, staring at my feet and letting my shimmering curls fall in front of my face like a shield. The car window opened, and something flew out, crashing into the facade of the building in front of me. The Styrofoam cup exploded on impact, showering me in soda and ice.

  “Get out of our town, you faerie freak,” a teenage voice yelled from the dark recess of the car. Then the vehicle sped off in a peel of tires and laughter.

  I cursed at the car’s taillights, and then stood in the center of the sidewalk, sticky soda dripping from my arms. Okay, so the glowing is noticeable.

  I had to get off the street. I’d never make it to Tongues for the Dead before the Quarter began to fill with
people, and I couldn’t let more people see me glowing. If I were recognized…Say good-bye to passing as human.

  I ducked into an alley. I’d lose my OMIH license if my fae heritage was discovered. I had to figure out how to stop glowing before more people saw me. But how the hell am I going to do that? Caleb hadn’t left the revelry, and I definitely couldn’t go to Falin—not that he was back from the revelry either. Hell, every fae I knew was in Faerie.

  Well, not every fae. I knew of one person I definitely hadn’t seen at the revelry. And not only could he help me; he damn near owed me the help.

  I called my father.

  Chapter 29

  A dark Porsche pulled to a stop and the window rolled down, showing my father’s profile. Well, actually, showing his fae-mien’s profile, but one couldn’t expect the governor and prominent member of the Humans First Party to be seen in the Quarter picking up a glowing woman. I climbed to my feet slowly, using the crates I’d been hiding behind as leverage to pull myself up.

  “This is becoming a habit, Alexis,” my father said, and I cringed at his use of my name.

  I’d become accustomed to hearing it on Falin’s lips. Hearing it said in such a disapproving tone cut. Of course, I may never hear Falin say my name again.

  My father glanced at me. When he wore his human glamour he was a respectably middle-aged man with dark brown hair and eyes. It always made me wonder where my sister and I got our coloring. Without his glamour it was obvious, his pale hair shimmered the same color blond as mine. I also had his green eyes. I looked away. I didn’t like seeing the similarities.

  “Alexis, you could have called a cab.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  He frowned, a flicker of confusion crossing his brow. It was the first real emotion he’d shown since I’d climbed into his car. “It is your name.”

  “Yeah, well, just don’t use it, okay?”

  “Shall I call you daughter dearest?”

  I shot him my best death glare, which didn’t faze him in the least.

  “My, my, aren’t we in a mood.”

  “Did you miss the fact I’m glowing?”

  “Now you’re just being dramatic.” He shrugged as if glowing were no big deal. Of course, as he was unglamoured he also shimmered. “You’re Sleagh Maith. This is our natural state. Though I must say, I’m quite surprised the glamour is failing so quickly. What have you been doing with yourself?”

  Dancing in Faerie rings, playing their games, oh yeah, and eating their food. I cut off my sarcastic inner monologue as the implications of what he’d said sank in.

  “Wait, what glamour?”

  He didn’t answer as he switched gears and headed over the bridge that separated what most people considered the “witchy” side of town from the rest of Nekros.

  “What glamour,” I asked again, “and how do I get it back?”

  His fae face was as good at giving completely disinterested glances as his human one.

  I ground my teeth but neither of us spoke for a long time, until I realized he was headed toward his mansion. The last time I’d called for help he’d dumped me in the mercy of an overly opinionated brownie at a ramshackle house in an old neighborhood.

  “Going to risk being seen with me, huh?” I asked, and noticed that he once again wore his respectable gentleman glamour. If I had to guess, I’d also assume that the Porsche had changed colors and tags. My father’s skill at glamour was second only to his ability to manipulate those around him.

  “You called me for a reason, Alexis.”

  “Because I need not to be glowing?” I said as he pulled the car into the long drive.

  When he stopped in front of the mansion he called a house, he turned, watching me expectantly. I knew what he wanted me to say, but the voice in the back of my head kept screaming that no, I wasn’t a fae, I couldn’t possibly…

  I sighed. “I need to learn glamour.”

  He nodded as if satisfied. Then, leaving the keys in the car, he climbed out and headed for the front door. He didn’t offer me a hand or wait, but he also didn’t rush. I extracted myself from the car much slower, reluctant to enter the oversized house.

  The gate guard had called ahead and a man rushed from the house, sprinting for the idling car. Another man, presumably the butler who’d replaced Rodger, opened the front door. My father nodded a greeting to the man before he led me into the enormous receiving room. Neither the disused chauffeur nor the butler stared as I passed, and while expensive help was trained not to pay too much attention, I was guessing if I glowed they wouldn’t have been able to help themselves. Which meant my father must have extended his glamour to me when he changed the car and himself.

  Good to know. As that immediate problem was solved, at least temporarily, one other rather pressing issue worried along the edge of my mind.

  “Do you have any food?” I asked, and my father paused at the base of the marble staircase he’d been about to mount.

  “Yes, Alexis, I have food.” The look he gave me could only be described as calculated curiosity. “I take it you would like to break your fast?”

  He had no idea. I’d had one potentially life changing sip of wine, and I needed to know if…if I could still consume human food. My father’s studying gaze appeared to see straight through my skin, and I rescinded my earlier thought. Maybe he did know. I shifted uncomfortably, but when I nodded that I did indeed want breakfast, he turned to the butler who, in good invisible but always at hand mode, stepped forward.

  “Would the young lady like to take her breakfast in the sunroom?” he asked, addressing my father, not me.

  “That’s fine, but something light and quick.”

  And that’s my father. No consultation with me. I didn’t care, as long as it was real food.

  This house had never been my home. I spent parts of my summers here as a child, but that didn’t create any warm fuzzy feelings in me, and my more recent memories of the place were far from happy. Which was a major understatement. Terrifying would be far more accurate. But I still remembered where the sunroom was. I didn’t need a guide or a chaperone. I got one anyway, my father leading me to a beautifully decorated sitting room with a large bay window facing east so the morning sun filtered in, casting the room in a warm hue.

  Casey, my sister, sat at a small dinette, a mostly untouched muffin sitting beside a half-filled glass of orange juice. A paper lay on the table in front of her, claiming more of her attention than the food.

  “Morning, Daddy, did you see this article on—” She looked up and stopped abruptly, pushing to her feet. “Alexis, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  I bet she hadn’t. It had been months since I’d seen my sister. She’d asked to see me when she’d been in the hospital recovering from the fallout of being the intended sacrifice in a megalomaniac’s ritual. I’d gone to see her once or twice at the private—and very discreet—hospital my father had placed her in, but on my last visit she’d told me she wanted to forget what had happened. Her chilly demeanor made it clear that she considered me a reminder. It wasn’t like we’d ever been close, so I’d made a polite good-bye and left. I hadn’t seen her since.

  “Hello, Casey. You look good,” I told her, though I could feel the concealment charms she wore and I knew at least forty percent of her body, particularly her torso, was covered in scars. The glyphs that had been carved into her skin had a power of their own, so the doctors had to excise parts of them to make sure the glyphs remained inert.

  Casey was everything I wasn’t. Where I had the height and sharper lines of the Sleagh Maith, she was a good head shorter with abundant curves that she usually dressed to accent. Not today. Her clothes were loose fitting and covered everything but her hands and her face. The concealment charms could hide the physical scars, but I wondered if she’d ever again be comfortable in her own skin.

  She blinked at me, not acknowledging my words. Then she turned away, as if she couldn’t bear to look at me.

 
“Is there something you wanted to tell me, dear?” my father asked, his voice nothing if not the epitome of patience.

  He never used that tone with me. I tried not to hold it against Casey.

  “It can wait,” she said, and then, leaving her barely touched food, she swept out of the room.

  I listened to the retreating click of her heels. “She hates me.”

  “Does it matter?” His voice was once again empty, dispassionate.

  I shook my head at him. “Sometimes I wonder how I ever believed you were human.”

  “An unkind thing to say.”

  Yeah, to the other fae I know.

  I was saved any further awkward conversation by the older gentleman entering the room with a large blueberry muffin and a tray with coffee. The man glanced at Casey’s hastily abandoned food. “Should I take the remainder of Miss Casey’s food to her suite?”

  At my father’s nod, the man gathered the food and silently excused himself from the room.

  I sank into the seat opposite from where Casey had been and poured my coffee into the too dainty cup. Then I hesitated. What if I can’t eat mortal food anymore? I broke a section of the sugar-encrusted muffin top free, but I didn’t eat it. I was starving, but as soon as I tried it, that was it. If I’d become addicted to Faerie food, there would no longer be the hope I wasn’t.

  “For goodness sake, Alexis, just eat the food. It doesn’t matter what you did at the revelry. You blooded true as Sleagh Maith. You are fae.”

  I blinked at him, the break of muffin nearly falling from my fingers. He shook his head.

  “Do you think I don’t know what the date is? Now eat. I don’t have all morning to waste on you.”

  Nice to know I’m important. I popped the piece of muffin in my mouth. Not only did it not turn to ash, but it was absolutely delicious, the relief making it one of the best things I’d ever tasted. I polished off the rest of my breakfast quickly, and then followed my father out of the sunroom and upstairs.