Daniel’s voice brought me back to the video. “Crush the DMG and find a way to live. You deserve the best this world can offer you. Take Lexie and live the fullest lives you can. Love and have lots of babies. I want all your dreams to come true. If anyone can survive a weakness in her genes, it’s you. You are too much of a fighter to give up.” He took a gulp. “I love you, Zoey Daniels, no matter how you came to this Earth.”
I wiped at my eyes and leaned in to turn it off, remembering it ended here. My finger froze on the button when the video continued to play. Daniel shifted in his seat. His hand ran through his short, dark brown hair, the silver at the temples more pronounced. “I wish this was the end of the bad news...”
What? There is more?
My heart thumped in my chest, recalling Ryker had been the one to turn it off last time. I had only assumed the video had ended. I sat straight in the chair, clutching the camera on either side.
“You have received a great deal of bad news in your life, and you only deserve good.” Daniel rubbed at his chin. During the years, I got to know him completely, so with every movement I could guess his mood. His light blue eyes focused on the camera, full of sadness.
My chest and stomach retracted, knowing more awful news was coming my way. “You are going to be upset because I went behind your back, but I talked to Lexie’s doctors. Her outlook is not good. I know you were fearful of this, but it’s definite. With a few operations, there is a possibility she can live a little longer. She will never have a full life, but even a couple of more years are worth it.” Daniel folded his hands over each other. “A year ago, I opened an account in your name and have been depositing extra money in it. You are also my beneficiary; everything I have will be left to you if something should happen to me. Even though the money in the will can be tracked by DMG, the account in your name cannot. It is not something you can do online or by phone. I wanted no ties to the money I left you.”
Daniel went on explain where and how to get the money, but my brain couldn’t get beyond the fact he had made me his beneficiary. He opened an account for me when he feared he might not be around to protect me. “I want you to use this money to get yourself away from DMG. Give the files to the police and get as far as you can from them. You and Lexie come first. Her medical bills are only going to get worse, and I want you to be able to help her.” Tears filled my eyes. I missed him so much. “I also set it up for whoever is left...” His sentence ended, his voice cracking. I understood. He thought I was also dying. So if Lexie lived longer than me, she would be all right.
Liquid slid down my cheeks. This sweet, unbelievable man. It saddened me we were never allowed the chance to love each other. But I understood all too well life was not kind or forgiving. You had to take what you wanted. Daniel never took the chance, and we both lost out because of fear.
“Which takes me to the last bit of bad news. When I heard of your condition and started researching what DMG was really doing, I uncovered a lot of things. Rapava has stated fae DNA can save human lives. His claims are bigger than his successes. Most humans did not adapt to the fae blood and died. There have been a few who survived, but they haven’t discovered why some humans can take it and some can’t. Going through my father’s research, I learned people with the sight, seers, are those rare people who are immune to fae blood. It doesn’t kill you, but you won’t benefit from it either. I don’t think it’s a coincidence seers are the ones who can see through magic and glamour. Magic doesn’t work on you like others.” Daniel’s blue eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I wanted to believe you could be saved by the one thing we were trying to achieve by collecting fae.”
What? But Ryker’s powers were adapting to me. I could jump. And I definitely was healing faster. The healing wasn’t all in my head, right? Or had I wanted it to be true so badly I believed it to be true? Maybe I could heal externally, but magic was useless in changing my actual DNA?
“My father tested every baby, including you and Sera, and none of you showed signs of being helped by fae blood. The flaw in your genetic code you were all born with was not altered. He tried hard to save the other children’s lives. In the end he could not.”
The life raft of hope circling around my soul popped, deflated, and sank to the pit of my stomach. The hope I held for it to be true curled around my abdomen. In my heart I had clung to the notion Ryker’s power would help me. But it wasn’t true. I was still going to die.
“Again all the information you need is in these files,” Daniel continued. “It is imperative these stay out of DMG’s hands. I know Dr. Rapava has been searching for this information for a long time. He will do anything to get it. So be careful.”
Too late.
I paused the video, no longer able to stop the sobs from wracking through my chest. I really was no different from an hour ago, but hope is a powerful thing.
I cried till nothing was left. Nobody stirred from the bed, which made me feel even more alone, though a part of me was glad. I didn’t want them to know the real truth. It was better to leave Ryker thinking the chance was still there. If a therapist was sitting next to me, they would probably also say it was my way of not fully dealing with reality. If I didn’t say it out loud, then it could still be wrong.
Reality could bite me.
My heart couldn’t take anymore, and I turned off the video, placing it underneath my underwear in a drawer. I sat in silence, staring out the window. Nothing had really changed except now I had money waiting for me in Seattle—if I ever got back there. It didn’t help me now; I was exactly where I started when I woke up.
I made the decision I would go on like I hadn’t heard this bit of news. I’d pretend the video ended where Ryker had stopped it. My sadness turned to a strong resolve, finding the shaman was the number-one priority. The urgency to get Ryker’s powers back to him rang even louder in me.
NINE
Ryker continued to sleep into the afternoon, his body deep in healing mode. Eventually Sprig awoke.
“Bhean, please!” Sprig patted at his stomach. “It’s not happy. You know if it doesn’t get fed I will die.”
I didn’t like leaving Ryker unprotected. When he went into this state it was as if he were in a coma. It rendered him completely vulnerable and an easy target.
“Okay, drama queen.”
“I can’t help it. Sprites have to eat constantly.” The Discovery Channel also taught me monkeys never stop searching for food either.
My stomach had stopped growling hours earlier, as though realizing it was pointless since no food was forthcoming. The night before, Sprig had eaten everything in our fridge, which wasn’t much.
“Okay.” I grabbed some clothes out of the dresser. “But only to get something to eat and come right back.”
“Oh, can we go to Izel’s?” He bobbed up and down on his feet.
“No.” I slipped on my flip-flops, tying my hair back into a ponytail, and scribbling a note for Ryker in case he woke. “We’re only grabbing something at the corner store and coming back.”
“The churro cart is only a couple of blocks away.”
“Okay, churros, shop, back here.” I grabbed a reusable shopping bag and the keys to the room. Sprig hopped on my shoulder. No point asking him to stay behind. He wouldn’t. And besides actual sit-down restaurants like Izel’s, no one seemed to care I had a monkey on my shoulder.
I checked the door twice to make sure it was locked. My stomach knotted the farther my feet took me away from the sleeping man. Leaving him defenseless didn’t sit right with me. We had each other’s backs, and I felt like I was leaving his exposed.
The sun beat down on me as I rushed to the store. Halfway there I noticed people stringing Christmas lights and decorations along the main drag. You could feel an excitement in the air and watch children running around wearing layers of clothes in vibrant reds, pinks, teals, yellows, and oranges, a vast rainbow of colors and patterns with headdresses and hats.
“¿Qué está p
asando?” What’s going on? I asked the shopkeeper as I pointed to the street.
“Celebration,” he replied in Spanish. “There is going to be a huge parade and party tonight. The whole town comes out. It’s a commemoration of an Inca leader, his supposed day of death.”
Good reason as any.
“You must join in.” He placed my groceries in my bag. I couldn’t wait to get access to the money Daniel left me. These people would be getting what I owed them plus a whole lot more.
“Oh, I don’t think so.” I smiled.
“You won’t be able to avoid it.” He laughed. “Takes over the town.”
I glamoured him into adding the cost to the growing bill, thanked him, and headed out.
“Churros!” Sprig sang into my ear.
“Oh, cork it.” I stuffed a banana chip into his mouth.
He batted at it and spit it out. “Ugh, yuck. Banana.”
A banana-hating monkey? Go figure.
I bit into my piece. “It’s sweet.”
He watched me curiously, then grabbed the end of mine, breaking it off. His tongue licked at it with hesitation. “It’s okay. Better than the real fruit. But only give me one of these if I am close to death and there is nothing else around.”
“So in an hour.”
By the time we got the churros, the streets were filling with people. The late afternoon had turned into evening. A flyer hanging from a pole told me the parade started at six and the fireworks at ten. I hurried back to our room. Panting, I unlocked the door and stepped in.
The bed was empty.
“Ryker?”
No answer.
“Ryker!”
“Bhean, listen.” Sprig tapped at his ear, settling himself on top the TV.
Trying to hear past the beating of my heart, I finally took in the sound of the shower. Jeez, Zoey, overreact much?
The water shut off and eventually Ryker came out of the bathroom, steam trailing after him, only a towel around his waist. The memory of him taking my hand last night needled at me. I looked away, putting the groceries on the table.
“You’re back.” He walked over to the dresser.
“I only stepped out for a moment. Sprig was going to die if I didn’t get him food.”
Ryker snorted and glanced over at Sprig stuffing churros into his mouth.
“True story,” Sprig garbled out.
“Yeah, freaked me out when I first woke up, but the note plastered to my forehead kind of let me know you hadn’t been kidnapped.”
Actually, it said: Ryker, haven’t been kidnapped except by a monkey and his stomach. Be back soon.
“How are you feeling?” I pointed to his calf. The wound had finally closed, but it looked puffy and raised.
“Fine.” He frowned. No doubt he’d noticed he was slower to heal. “What I really need is a drink.” He pulled a black T-shirt over his head.
A moment of neither of us speaking suddenly felt awkward and heavy. Why am I nervous around him now? Why can I only think about what’s under his towel?
“Uh. Th-there’s a parade tonight, and I guess it’s a big deal.” I waved to the windows. “Fireworks and a big party in the streets. Whole town is involved.” Shut up, Zoey. “The owner at the market said we couldn’t avoid it.” Please, shut up. “Think the parade is at six and the fireworks are at ten or something.” And then the worst thing possible happened. A nervous giggle broke from my lips. I usually had a deep laugh. I didn’t giggle.
Kill. Me. Now.
Ryker tilted his head, examining me. Even Sprig stopped eating and stared at me.
“Are you all right, Bhean?” Sprig’s forehead folded in lines. “You look flustered.”
Yeah. “No.” I pinched the space between my eyes, squeezing my eyes shut. I didn’t look up as another beat of silence pounded in my ears.
“Sounds fun,” Ryker finally said, drawing my attention over to him. He stepped into a pair of clean boxer briefs, his towel still wrapped around his waist. “Want to start early? Get a drink down the street?”
Drink. Yes. Good idea.
“Uh... yeah.” I nodded. “Where are you going?”
“Tulio’s.”
“The bar we crashed into? The one where he called the cops on us?”
“Don’t worry. I’ve already been back there. Tulio will leave us alone, I promise.”
Ahh. That’s where he came back from the other night, stumbling drunk. Poor Tulio got glamoured.
“Okay, but I’ll meet you there. I want to do something first.”
Ryker’s brows lowered as he tugged on his last pair of green cargo pants. The other ones were in the trash. Ryker slipped on his boots and snagged a churro out of Sprig’s hand, biting down on it. Sprig gaped at his empty hand like he lost his best friend. “You know where to find me.” Ryker grabbed a set of keys and left.
“He took my churro...” Sprig’s bottom lip quivered as he stared at his empty hand.
“Uh-oh. Will I have to break out the banana chips soon?”
Sprig sniffed. “Maybe.”
I shook my head and walked to the bathroom, holding a box I purchased at the store. When I saw it on the shelf I knew what I had to do. Even if it only fooled people for a moment, it would be worth it. I set the package on the counter. A girl with plum hair stared back at me from the carton. Arlo was the one who pointed it out. Right away people would know I wasn’t Amara, only cementing the gossip about Ryker being magic-less and traveling with a brunette human.
Thirty minutes later, my hair was a rich shade of purple. I turned my head back and forth, admiring my new look. My figure was curvier and shorter than Amara’s lean modelesque one, but people would notice my shape a lot less than the hair.
Sprig hopped into the room. “Your hair looks like an eggplant.”
“I know.” The colored locks fell around, framing my face. I actually liked it. A lot. I felt even more like a badass. Sexy badass.
“It actually looks good on you.” Sprig leaped on the sink.
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Making me crave eggplant lasagna. Or berry pie.”
“How about honey-dipped mango chips and a Spanish soap opera?”
Sprig’s eyes widened in excitement, then tempered. “You’re leaving me behind again, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
Sprig tilted his head and shrugged. “For honey mango chips I will agree.” He sighed heavily. He straightened up, eyes growing wide again. “Oh, Senorita Rosa... I wonder if she will find out whose baby she’s carrying.” He bounded off the counter and ran to the TV, stabbing at the buttons.
I clicked it on for him. Instead of the soap opera, I found a reality show, which was as good. He climbed on the bed, Pam in hand, and settled onto a pillow. I grabbed a honey bear full of sweet liquid, grasped the stash of mango chips I bought at the store, and handed it to him. He was already in his happy place by the time I finished dressing.
Uncomfortably, I tugged at my skirt. Was it this short when I got it? It was an impulse buy. One I was regretting. My nerves rattled around, clenching at my chest. Why was I edgy? It was simply a drink. We’d shared plenty of them before. And it was only a skirt. My shorts and cargo pants are dirty. This is only thing I have clean, I rationalized. Not like I’m dressing for a date or anything. But with my violet hair, cute A-line, cotton, flared skirt, and tight tank, I felt as if I were wearing a neon sign, like I was trying to impress Ryker. Before I overthought anything and changed my outfit, I proceeded to the door.
“We’ll be back later.” I rubbed Sprig’s head on the way out. He grunted and shoved another chip in his mouth as I closed the door.
My nerves doubled the closer I got to the bar. Participants in the parade were starting to gather at the end of the lane. Music swayed down to me as the dancers practiced their routines. Excitement ran like a current through the people. Kids ran around squealing with delight, waiting for the festivities to begin.
It only intensified my knotting g
ut. “Relax, Zoey. Simply a drink. No big deal,” I muttered to myself. What would he think of my hair? Would he think I wore the skirt for him? Did I?
Holy shit! I need a drink.
Inhaling a huge slug of air, I took a step into the bar.
It was packed. Tourists and locals mixed with each other, cheering and singing to the jukebox tunes. People were ready to let loose and have a good time. The excitement and happiness in the air was tangible. I could feel it move across my skin. The parade moved past the bar, and everyone cheered in anticipation of the more “adult” festivities later.
Ryker was easy to spot sitting at the bar. Even with all the other tourists, he stood out. Girls stood behind him in a group, giggling and trying to catch his notice. If he wanted to go invisible, he pretty much could, but he obviously didn’t care tonight.
I nibbled at my lip as I made my way over to him. Sensing my approach, he swiveled around in his chair. His mouth dropped open and his eyes grew wide.
“Hey.” I pushed through the throng of girls and wiggled in next to him. Several of the girls said something in German and frowned in my direction.
“What the hell did you do?”
My hand grabbed at the ends of my hair. “What? You don’t like it?”
He adjusted in his seat, really taking me in. “I didn’t say that.”
“Arlo was right. With my brown hair no fae would ever take me for Amara.”
“Why would you want to be mistaken for Amara?”
I turned to the bar, searching for the man who stood between me and the alcohol.
Ryker stood up, motioning me to sit. He leaned over, mumbling something in the man’s ear next to him. The man got up and walked away. Ryker sat in his vacated chair.
“That was wrong.” I scowled.
“Out of all the things we’ve both done, that is what you think is wrong?”
The Barrier Between (Collector Series # 2) Page 8