by E. A. Weston
“Reagan,” he whispers a few minutes later. Lifting my head, I notice we have stopped and we are back in the clearing.
“Wow, that was fast,” I mutter. Killian puts me down gently on the grass and joins me. “How fast was that?” I ask.
“I am not sure. I have never tried to find out. I am not at full speed yet, that is why I come out to train.” I marvel at his words. Not at full speed! If he were going any faster, he’d be a bullet. Reaching over, I run my hand over his strange tattoo.
“What does this mean?”
“It is my family name and symbol,” he says, closing his eyes. Rolling over, I rest my chin on his chest.
“I miss mine, too,” I whisper. Keeping his eyes closed, he reaches down to rub my face.
“Tell me about them, princess.”
“There’s not much to tell, really. I was born here so my parents were already living here. They didn’t come from here, though, I remember that much. My mom was kind and sweet, and my dad was funny and goofy; we had such a good life. But now I have no clue where they are or if they are alive.”
“Have you looked for them?”
“Yeah, after they first went missing I hounded the cops. Every day after school I would go to the police station. One of the detectives would tell me to sit outside and wait until he called me. He never called me. One afternoon it was so hot, I stepped out to wait by the trees. That’s when I saw him driving away in his car. I realized, all the hours I sat in that police station waiting, he was at home with his family.”
Killian raises his head a little so he can look down at me. He looks appalled. His face shows all manner of disgust on my behalf.
“He left you there, every day, alone, while he went home?” I nod and shrug my shoulders. “That is unacceptable, Reagan. I hope you spoke with his boss.”
“No.” I laugh. “What was the point? He wasn’t doing anything to find them anyway.” Killian pulls me up to him and kisses me gently, just staring into my eyes.
“I will never leave you. You have my word. I am yours forever.”
Leaning over, I kiss him back. My body molds to his and we get lost in the kiss for a while.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“For?”
“For being you and being mine.” I smile, brushing my lips against his.
“I will help you, Reagan. I will help find your parents.” His declaration startles me, but the sorrow in his eyes makes me frown.
“Why do you look so sad then?” He shakes his head no, but I don’t give up. “Tell me or I won’t let you help me.”
“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispers. So much pain radiates from his eyes.
“You won’t lose me. Why would you think that?” His arms tighten around me like he is holding on for dear life. As if I might disappear, too. “I promise you won’t lose me if we find them and they are alive. I am sure they will love you.”
“I know, princess.”
We stay in the clearing for another while, both of us lost in thought. I watch the clouds move slowly across the sky and wonder where on earth my parents could be.
Chapter 19
It has been a week since Killian agreed to help me locate my parents. I finished work for today and stop into Alex on my way home.
“Hey, stranger. Haven’t seen you for a while,” she sings, waggling her eyebrows at me. Rolling my eyes, I pull her into a hug.
“Hey. Missed you,” I smile at her, but she slaps my shoulder, telling me I only missed the coffee and paninis.
“Not true.” I scoff. Turning back to me, she crosses her arms and looks at me. “Okay, fine. I missed the coffee and paninis.”
“Good, because I am on a break,” she says, handing me two plates and grabbing our coffees. We sit at a table and I fill her in on all that has been going on over the last week.
“Wow, Reagan. He said he’d help?” She is shocked as I nod my head.
“Yeah, and he has been. We went over the police reports and interviews, but nothing is any good. No one saw them at all that night.”
“I’m sorry, Reagan. Don’t give up. You will see them one day.” She smiles at me. We finish our food and chat. I tell her I want to get home before Killian goes to work.
“Look at you! Little Susie Homemaker,” she teases, but I don’t mind. Killian is growing on me.
“Yeah, just wait. You and Ryder are next,” I call, pushing open the door and waving bye to her. I walk back to Killian’s and finding him on the couch, staring at the ceiling—it doesn’t look good.
“Hey … you okay?” I ask, kneeling down beside him. His skin looks a little pale and he is sweating.
“Yeah, I am fine, princess. Just feel off,” he tries to explain, but he looks more than off. Grabbing a washcloth from the bathroom, I soak it in cold water then place it on his forehead.
“I think you should stay home tonight.” I am worried about him and I really don’t want him at work looking like this.
“I will.” He smiles, caressing my cheek. “If you don’t mind, I will go to bed.”
Helping him to the bedroom is hard. He is all muscle and slightly unsteady on his feet, but we manage. Once he is on the bed, I put the cloth back on his head and tell him I will come back in a bit to check on him. It’s weird seeing him sick. I didn’t know if being a fairy would make you immune to human sickness, but nonetheless, he is out cold now.
Pulling out my binder, I pour over all the papers again, trying to get some hint of what happened to my parents. If I keep looking, maybe I will find something I missed. Police reports, witness statements, my statement—there’s a ton of crap here and not one single word can help me. I don’t now how long I have been sitting here on the floor of the living room. All I know is I forgot to check on Killian—I was too caught up in the details again.
Taking the short walk to his bedroom, I push open the door. Stepping inside, I stop dead in my tracks and stare at him. He is lying on his stomach and his wings are out in full glory. I marvel at the sheer size of them. They are like black chiffon with silver running through them. My hand reaches out to stroke them. The cool feeling blows my mind. Killian groans and mumbles something I think its fairy speak, but he doesn’t wake.
I am like a kid in a candy store, my fingers moving all over his wings. Smiling, I lean closer to get a better look. Just when my face is about an inch away, Killian moves, knocking me on my ass; for something so delicate, they sure do hurt. Rubbing my face, I stand up and find him frowning at me.
“Hi,” I smile as I crouch back to his level. He looks at me for a few minutes before finally speaking. Only his words are not my words; they are his melodic cadence of fairy speak and I have no idea what he is saying. By the look on his face, he is confused.
“Hey, do you understand me?” I ask, fearing the answer because now he is starting to stand and look around as if seeing this room for the first time. He looks back at me and says something again—I just shrug my shoulders at him. He then points to me, then to the room twirling his finger around.
“Oh, no.” I make the same motions, trying to explain that this is his house. Taking a step forward, his wings knock over some of his belongings from the dresser. He looks at me. His eyes seem harder when his wings fall down his back like the cape of a movie superhero. Following him at a distance, I watch as he walks through the apartment. Picking up his own stuff and examining it before replacing it, he speaks fairy all the while. I have no idea what the hell is going on and I am a little scared.
Where has my English-speaking boyfriend gone? Suddenly he turns on me, causing me to jump and squeak like a mouse. He lets out a chuckle as he steps closer to me. With his eyes roaming up and down my body, he speaks again. I just look at him, wishing I could understand what the fuck he is saying.
“Oh, my God, Killian, what the hell is wrong with you?” I slump onto the sofa. He moves faster than lightning, grabbing my hands and talking at a rate of speed faster than his movements.
He lets out a frustrated g
rowl then points to his head then my lips. Shit! Can he hear me? “Do you understand me?” He nods yes. My heart picks up a bit. At least, he is not trying to kill me or do some kind of fairy voodoo on me.
“Do you know who I am?” He tilts his head, considering the question, and shrugs his shoulders.
“I am Reagan, your girlfriend.” He doesn’t look like he gets it, though, so I motion to his lips and mine.
His voice rings out in laughter at me and he shakes his head no. Now I want to slap him. “Yes!” I mentally shout at him. He snorts at me, crossing his arms over his chest as if I am lying to him. I mimic his stance and glare at him.
“We are together, Fairy Boy. If you don’t believe me, then kiss me and find out.”
I am feeling a little cocky now and dare him to kiss me. He darts his tongue out, wetting his bottom lip as he steps closer.
By the look in his eye, he wants to devour me and I am beginning to think this is all a ruse or a little trick of his. He stops just in front of me, looking into my eyes. Nodding my head, I give him permission. He presses his lips to mine quickly and steps back. I am insulted. “What the fuck was that, Killian?” Grabbing his arm, I pull him closer, crashing his lips to mine. I drink him in with an insatiable need, sliding my tongue over his. At first he hesitates, his movements slow and cautious, but all of a sudden, I am on my back on the sofa as Killian’s hands find my waist.
We kiss for a long time, my hands caressing his wings and back. His hands never leave my waist and hips. Breaking the kiss, I look into his eyes, searching for the guy I found a few weeks ago. He whispers in my ear something beautiful, but I have no idea what and I want to cry. I just found him and now we can’t understand each other. After a while of staring, he stands up. I point for him to go back to bed and he nods at me. I take the couch to give him space.
I wake up with a crick in my neck from sleeping at an odd angle. Last night swims around my subconscious, taunting me. Climbing off the sofa, I walk down to the bedroom, entering quietly. Seeing his wings and long hair saddens me. Creeping over to the chair by the window, I grab my jeans and sweater then plan my escape. As I walk past the bed, his hand shoots out, grabbing mine.
“Jesus, Killian!” I shout, scolding him. He pulls me down beside him and looks at me.
“Where are you sneaking off to?” Oh, my heart. Throwing my clothes onto the floor, I dive on him, locking our lips.
“Oh, my God, you’re back.” Killian pulls back from me.
“What do you mean ‘I am back?’” He asks quizzically. Filling him in on last night is odd. He doesn’t remember anything except for going to bed and waking up now.
“You don’t remember me feeling your wings? Kissing you?”
“No, but I am sure I was happy.” He grins at me.
“This is not good, Killian. What if that happens again and you are out?” I ask. “Who will help you and how will you hide those wings?” I point to his back. He mumbles again and turns back into my Killian.
“It won’t. Now, I think I owe you a night of missed passion.”
We stay in bed for a few hours, exploring each other. I keep explaining what happened last night.
“I swear you didn’t know me and you were speaking fairy,” I tell him again.
“Fairy, huh?” He grins at me. “You know, you should learn fairy … in case of emergencies.” He smiles, leaning closer to my lips.
“No, I have a better idea. How about you never forgetting me again.”
“Impossible, princess. You are stamped onto my subconscious for eternity.”
“I think we should get out of bed and get some food.” I smile at him, caressing his back lazily. After a few minutes of procrastination, we get up to eat.
“Have you been playing detective again?” he asks when he sees the mess on the living room floor.
“Yeah, sorry. I’ll fix it up now.” Killian walks to the kitchen and I begin the task of cleaning up the papers. My mind wanders back to the night before my parents went missing. I remember my mom and dad having some kind of discussion.
“Cealian, I don’t want to.”
“I know, Celeste, but we mustn’t stay any longer. We have already delayed.”
I remember thinking it strange. My parents seemed to be having their first ever disagreement, but I never said anything about it that night. If I am honest, I actually forgot all about it.
“You seem distracted, princess.” Killian’s voice draws my attention back to him.
“Yes, I was just thinking about my parents.”
“I know.” He smiles at me, walking around the counter to take my hands. “I, too, saw your memories,” he tells me, frowning again.
“What do you mean, saw my memories?” I ask, watching his perplexed face.
“I am not sure, but I saw your house and heard what your parents said,” His hands squeeze mine. “I have never had that before.”
“Odd,” I muse. There is no other word for it. Killian wraps his arms around my waist, looking into my eyes. His face is close to mine and I can feel his breath gently blow across my lips as he exhales. “I think I should try to re-create their last movements,” I say, slumping forward and resting my forehead against his.
“Yes, we can do that today,” Killian says, smoothing his hand over my hair. “I would like to help you.”
Nodding in agreement, he takes me by the hand to the kitchen to eat. Afterward, we drive across town to my parent’s house. Pulling up, I spot Mr. Brenner sitting on his porch. Waving, I call out hello to him.
“Afternoon, Reagan.” He smiles as his eyes lock onto Killian. He watches him as he walks behind me up onto the porch.
“How are you today?” I ask, making small talk. He just nods his head at me, returning my smile. “This is Killian,” I say, waving my hand in his direction. Mr. Brenner stands and moves towards us, still watching Killian. They shake hands and look at each other for a minute.
“Princess, why don’t you get started and I will join you soon.”
Killian kisses my cheek, putting his hand on the small of my back and gently pushing me towards the house. Once inside, I take a quick glance out of the window, seeing him and Mr. Brenner in deep discussion. Maybe Mr. Brenner feels like he has to vet Killian on behalf of my father. Making my way upstairs, I sit on my bed and wait. I don’t want to drag up old memories alone.
After about thirty minutes, Killian walks into my room. “So was he telling you if you hurt me, he will kick your ass?” I laugh at him.
“No, princess, nothing like that. So where are we with the locating?” Smiling, I stand up, stepping closer to him.
“I was waiting for you.” Kissing his lips quickly, I take his hand and lead him to my parent’s room. I haven’t actually looked around in here and part of me doesn’t want to.
“Reagan, can I ask why you never sold the house?”
Turning back to him, I notice he is staring at me with that look on his face—the one that people give you at funerals. The one that says, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to say or how to act around you right now.”
“Because I want it to stay the same in case they ever show up. They can come back here to the way things were and are supposed to be.”
Closing my eyes, I let his hand go as all the pain rushes me again. I allow myself to drown in it for a moment then pull myself together. Killian steps closer, enveloping me in his body heat. “Let’s get to work,” I whisper, looking around the room.
We look in every drawer, pull the closet apart—even the bathroom—but come up empty. Nothing at all. Groaning with frustration, I lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling.
“Don’t give up, princess. We will find something.” Killian gets down beside me, lying on his stomach and resting on his forearms.
“I don’t know… it’s been two years. I just don’t know anymore.” My voice is small as I speak. Killian brushes his lips against mine, murmuring something about not giving up. I let myself get lost in his kiss for
a while.
“Maybe we should try the garage,” he says, pulling away from me.
“Yeah, I guess.” Making our way downstairs, I look around my home. It’s the same as always, just a little lonelier. Out in the garage, I stare at the boxes piled high against three walls. Killian tackles the left and I, the right side. Most of the stuff I find are my old clothes and school reports.
“Jesus, they kept everything.” Packing all my stuff back into the box, I pull another one down, beginning my search again. Killian has been quiet on his side, just looking and replacing what he takes out of each box.
“Princess,” he calls after about an hour. Whipping my head around, I see he is holding a wooden box. He takes a seat on a lawn chair, pulling me down onto his lap and handing me the box. It has weird carvings on the front. Running my fingers over it, I feel the grooves of each symbol. Tilting my head, I notice it is similar to that stick thing Killian has at his apartment. Turning on his lap, I look at him accusingly.
“What is this?” I ask, letting my tone convey my anger and confusion. Killian quickly grabs my waist, holding me in place.
“I don’t know. I can’t open it.”
“But why is it like your stick?” I ask, shaking the wooden box in his face. “Why are there the same symbols on it?”
He frowns at me. “What stick, princess?” Trying to stand, I push against his chest, but his hold is too tight.
“The one behind your curtain at your window. What is going on?” I don’t know what to think. Why are they the same? Why?
“Reagan, I don’t know why. All I know is that this is the writing is of my people. It’s fairy, as you call it.”
“But why would my parents have fairy stuff?” I don’t get it. How did they know about fairies? Is that why my mom always spoke about them? Telling me stories? Maybe they knew a fairy once; maybe a fairy killed them. My thoughts run rampant through my head and Killian holds me tighter.
“No, Reagan, a fairy would not kill your parents. We are a kind people.” His words cut through my mental fog.
“What, you have no evil fairies in Fairyland?” My tone is scathing as I push off him.