Demon Day

by Penelope Fletcher

  I frowned, screwing up my face. “That makes no sense.”

  He seemed to be struggling with something. He leaned forward compelling me to do the same. Just shy of our lips touching he paused and hovered there, easing back when I carried on, mindlessly seeking the touch of his skin on mine. Sliding our hands together, he squeezed my fingers and held me still. I could barely breathe and lost brain function to sensation. A tingle ran down my body to the ends of my hair. It collided with a similar disturbance radiating from him. Seeing that I had picked up on this oddity he swayed forward, and my own vibration lessened, became weaker. Felling too submissive I pushed back and felt my vibration grow as his shrank back.

  “What one lacks, the other grows to fill,” I murmured.

  I was determined not to appear freaked out by what Breandan and I meant to each other anymore, so I smiled then ducked my head down so my hair covered my face as I balked inwardly.

  Breandan’s head bobbed from side to side in thought before he nodded. “That is how you stand in relation to me. What you do not seem to realize is that others not connected to you by blood, or magic are far less powerful. Many of our kind cannot touch the Source, though they know it is there, and they can feel it. Magic is to us as air is to breathe–”

  “And water to drink,” I finished catching up mentally. Bloody fairies and their bloody jumpy thought patterns.

  A finger slid under my chin to tip my head up. Breandan’s gaze darted to Conall who looked away, face stony.

  The kiss he pressed to my lips was chaste, soothing, and ended with a wicked nip. Leaning back he hungrily drank me in with his eyes. I trembled.

  Conall, however, had a frown of disapproval stamped across his features. In honesty, he was starting to get on my nerves with all the scowling and edgy looks.

  “What?” I asked my voice still thick with lust. I cleared my throat lifted my chin then lowered it again when I figured I probably should be trying for meekness not defiance. “Conall, what is it?”

  His expression named him thoroughly not impressed. “I think I need to discuss something with you.” No other explanation was forthcoming.

  In the heat of my mortification I snapped, “We’re busy.”

  “Yes. That is why I need to talk to you. There are certain customs that need observing.”

  “I have every intention of showing Rae some of our more pleasurable customs,” Breandan said evenly, but the look he leveled at me had me all but panting.

  I inhaled deeply and as I exhaled I said, “I’m ready for a lesson on customs now.”

  Breandan cocked an eyebrow. “You wish to learn?”

  “Uh, yeah, if you’re the one teaching.”

  Conall hissed and strode forward to grab my arm and yank me back. “It is understandable your natures would get the better of you, but Breandan has been raised by the laws of our people, and I know he does not wish to continue dishonoring you so blatantly.”

  My fairy-boy winced as if Conall had stuck him a blow. Lowering his head, he broke our mutual get-over-here-and-touch-me stare, and avoided meeting my gaze.

  “Forgive me,” he said softly. “Your Elder is right; I shame myself and the beauty of our bond by behaving so.”

  My back straightened. Instead of telling Conall to take a hike, my fairy stood there with his eyes on the bloody floor like he would keel over dead if he looked at me.

  Conall cleared his throat. “You say you are a fairy a Priestess, and you are wrong. You are the fairy Priestess, there can only be one of you. And though you think the powers you have seen are common place many of our kind are simple folk who will never touch the Source, or be able to move as fast, or be as strong. In time, you will learn our ways. Who we are as a people.”

  “They’re normal,” I said feeling a pang of jealousy. “They all get to live normal lives to look to you to keep them safe.”

  “They will look to you,” Conall said solemnly. “As we all will.”

  If my spine got any stiffer it would snap in half. The pressure and responsibility just kept building, and I was sick of it. I did not want any of this. Hearing it laid out in black and white didn’t make it more real for me, or prepare me for what was expected of me. If anything it felt more like a dream, no, a nightmare from which I could not wake.

  A swell of peace I was sure was not my own calmed me. I sighed. Breandan would not be here if this was a nightmare.

  “All of that does not change the fact the two of you could wipe the floor with me.” I gave them both pointed looks, daring them to deny it. They knew it was true. Sure, I could fight, but I had seen the way they moved, and there was no way my Disciple training could match it.

  Breandan snorted, his head lifting. “You have not been taught to use your body as it was designed. We shall teach you how to harness your power, and no one shall be able to challenge you.” He grinned, dazzling me. “Oh, no one, but me.”

  “Not even the High Lord,” Conall murmured. “For the first time we have a Priestess not bound to him.”

  “All will be well,” Breandan snapped and shot the older fairy a look of malevolence. “Rae can control herself and she does not need you to smother her.”

  I stared at him, wide eyed at the harshness of his tone. Conall did not look too perturbed or offended, simply disinterested.

  I narrowed my eyes. I was not the most perceptive of people, but I was not blind either. The undercurrents these two failed so miserably to hide, flowed deep, and would have swept up even the strongest of the disinterested. I knew they had to be feeling the strain of the day before too, after all so much had changed. Breandan had broken away from his brother and was considered an outcast. Conall had butchered several of his kind to give me retribution for Lex’s life. We all had much to shoulder and deal with. I guess I could understand if they were both feeling wound up and were taking it out on each other, but gods did they have to be so rude?

  Grumping to myself about bad manners, I moved away and heard them follow me. When I could no longer smell the shifter, I plopped down on the ground figuring the spot was as good as any.

  “Let’s get on with it,” I grumped. “Clearly you’re warming up to a lecture and the sooner we do it the sooner we can get moving again.”

  We did not have all the time in the world. Devlin would have to stop too, but the fairy High Lord was powerful and tricky. He probably knew I would be slowing his adversaries down, and would use the time to take as far a lead as possible.

  Breandan sank down behind me and I studied his face since the corner of his mouth looked suspiciously curved, like he was fighting a smile. I watched out for them since his smiles were so rare and stunning. His laughter was rarer, but when he did express amusement it was more than worth the wait.

  Conall stepped lightly to seat himself cross-legged in front of me.

  Over the silence was the sound of crickets, and a strong wind that blew through the tall grass, bringing me the earthy scents and smallest sounds of life on the Pride.

  I waited patiently for Conall to begin, idly wondering why Breandan was not touching me and why he seemed painfully aware of how much distance there was between us.

  “Our birth mother was Sorcha,” my brother began. “Priestess and mate of Nyall the High Lord of all fairykind.”

  Already I had to interrupt him. “Don’t we have a family name? I mean, I was given the name Wilder because the Priest who found me thought I was a wild thing.”

  My heart squeezed when I thought of the Priests, for then I thought of Temple, and everything I had left behind. I felt like a leaf that was once part of a great oak, captured by the wind and carried away into the unknown. I knew I was destined to go far, but I missed being unseen amongst others like me. I frowned. Was that the problem? That there was no other like me yet I kept seeing myself as ordinary. Unable to understand that I could not think or act as others did because I was supposed to be the one others followed?

  “We are fairy,” Conall said as if that would explain
everything. “We recognize no other names.”

  “But why? I understand there are few of us, but only having a first name seems … incomplete.” I shrugged.

  Conall tilted his head thoughtfully. “That is a good way to describe it. Incomplete.” He sighed, something I was beginning to notice he did a lot, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Family names have power so we stopped using them many years ago. We are powerful yet vulnerable in many trivial ways. Nick us with an iron blade and we bleed for days. Feed us the Rowan berry and we become violently ill. Too much and we die unless healed under the full moon. Force an oath of suicide and we’ll cut our own throats or drop dead if we do not comply.” He frowned. “We must be fierce to protect ourselves from those who would hurt us for our trusting nature.”

  “It still seems extreme. Why should we feel incomplete in fear of power?”

  “There was a time when our family names were secret, and known only to the kin. It was a way to bind us together and keep us strong. In that strength was our greatest weakness.”

  Fascinated, learning about the fairy culture – my culture – I urged him on and leaned forward. “Please, go on.”

  “You know there has been a bonding before?”

  I bobbed my head. “Ana told me, yeah. She said that it didn’t end well.”

  At the time I had sensed ‘well’ was a massive understatement, but had not pressed the issue as it had made the white witch agitated. Then again everything made Ana agitated. The term ‘highly strung’ came to mind when I thought of the petite blonde Seer. How she handled her Sight without going completely nuts was beyond me.

  Conall looked away, face tightening. “They were consumed by each other and out of control. They were born into two of the larger and more powerful families. They broke with tradition, with sanity, and they....” He was unable to go on.

  Breandan stiffened beside me and tension radiated across the space between us. I glanced at him under my lashes and saw his face, plainly upset.

  My brother cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “They gave each other their family name.”

  My lips twitched but I managed to remain quiet. That was the monstrous thing these two lovers did? For the love of gods, these fairies had melodrama down to a fine art. I tried to keep the laughter from my voice. “And?”

  Both boys’ head’s snapped up. The twin expressions of astonishment told me my reaction was way off. I looked between them and shrugged sheepishly.

  “She does not understand,” Breandan murmured.

  Resting his hands on his knees, Conall opened his mouth then closed it again.

  At times, there was a language barrier between these fairies and me. They said things and expected me to simply grasp the significance. There seemed to be two meanings in every sentence, a thousand ways to interpret what was spoken.

  It hurt my head.

  I focused and tried to work through it, use logic.

  Family names held power and were secret. Histrionic and strange, if they’d ask me, but voicing such a thought we only get me in trouble, and I kept it as my own. Fairies breathed tradition. Every five seconds it was tradition this and tradition that. I guess it helped them retain their sense of purpose, of meaning. Just like the belief that every being had a purpose and a destiny – that our lives were set, and it was a matter of time before fate had its way. I wondered what that meant in isolation. Was Lex never meant to die, and was Maeve supposed to be dead in her grave? Was Tomas trying to save a Nest that needed to die out for a greater purpose? Was it time for the human race to fade away into legend?

  I could not believe it. I knew the notion of having a purpose made sense, as it attributed to how the Wylds were structured and the royal family determined, and combine that with bloodlines; surely you would create a sovereignty that would stand the test of time.

  But I just ... it seemed so ... coincidental. They let their lives and decisions be based on small happenings and signs that could mean and pertain to nothing.

  I rubbed my head becoming aware mentally I was off track. Conall was still stumped, and Breandan stared at me in that intense, blink-less way he did when he was trying to see inside my head. He smiled; a small thing that passed over his lips.

  I eyed him, rubbing my nose absentmindedly. How odd. It was like he knew I thought of him.

  Cocking his head, he grinned broadly.

  Frowning at him, I went back to mentally taking apart what I had learned and translating it into something I could understand. The fairies believed names had a physical power, a contextual hold over them. So…. Giving someone your family name meant they had your power? Was that it? Was Conall saying that by giving each other their family name...? “They relinquished complete control to each other,” I said and looked up, ready to be praised for figuring it out by myself. “They gave each other something sacred to prove their love.” Well, by the blank look on their faces I would be waiting a while for all that praise. I sighed. “That would not go down well with their families, I’m guessing.”

  “It was seen as punishable by death,” Conall explained.

  My eyes got wide. “They were put to death?”

  He shook his head again. “They ran, and were found, of course. They too were young, and like I said consumed in each other, unable to think straight or function properly. They were brought back for judgment, after all their bond was clear.” His eyes flicked over Breandan and me. “It is something anyone deeply attuned to magic can sense and feel, unique. There is no faking it.” He sighed heavily, and muttered something to himself too low for me to hear despite my acute hearing. “A bonding is sacred, since you become a living embodiment of the Source. It was agreed it was not up to the High Lord to decide their fate, and so they turned to the spiritual leader. The Priestess. She ordered them separated and kept apart until nature took its course.”

  My heart became heavy with grief. “They died alone?”

  The wind whipped through the grass as if in lament.

  “They took many lives with them, in the end,” Breandan said. “When bonded ones are kept apart the power builds between them. It grows with each passing moment building momentum and force. It is believed if they are kept apart and unable to come together to release the buildup of power that eventually the bond will simply consume them.” He stopped, checking I was following him, measuring my reaction.

  I thought on what they were saying and a chilling realization passed over me. “They came together,” I said and wrapped my arms around myself. “Somehow, they managed to come together and the nexus opened.”

  Conall nodded sadly. “There were once three Wylds on this region, not two. The Golden Glades was where the royal family reigned. It was destroyed the last time a bonded pair came together and it shook the foundations of what defined us as a people. That love could cause such pain and destruction … it was a reality many struggled to come to terms with.”

  I remembered the intense light that had blasted from Breandan’s body and mine when we had finished healing. Conall and Lochlann had fought so save us yet forgotten to ensure that we touched skin to skin. The light that erupted as we did touch, as if his skin had been touched by sunlight, had burned Tomas.

  What would happen to a bonded couple separated for a long time – say days – across such a vast distance who came together in a passionate reunion?

  The thought was terrifying and exhilarating.

  “How?” I whispered. “How could that have happened?”

  “It is said the male was guarded by her family and she guarded by his. Such a simple mistake can cause devastation. The Priestess was more concerned with showing mercy than dwelling on the cause of their situation. The bonded female commanded the guard to set her free. And they did – they had no choice.”

  My mind boggled by the intricacy of it. How such a small action rocked the foundation of a species and altered a fundamental way of life. The lovers had given each other their family names as a token of devo
tion, and in one selfish act they shattered the faith of so many. “That’s why you stopped giving them?”

  “It was considered best. It was not the only reason, but the beginning of the end. We let the old names of power die and the bonding became seen as a taboo. There are many who would try to hurt you in fear of what you and Breandan share.” The warning in his voice was clear. “Long lost Priestess or not they will try to harm you. If I had known … if the white witch had warned me of what might happen if you were to meet and touch I would never have–”

  “Enough,” Breandan said flatly.

  My head swung back and forth between them, more than concerned now. They were being openly disrespectful to each other. Breandan ran a hand down my arm and I shuddered. Who knew how many he had killed with those hands. How many he would kill to get back to me if ever we were separated? I knew he was trying to distract me from what I had passed between him and my brother, but it would not work. I could not ask them what was wrong, somehow I knew they would not tell me and would have a mutual agreement to keep it between them. But I would figure it out, oh yes; I would work it all out.

  Leaning back on my elbows, I kicked my legs out in front of me to cross them at the ankles. “I understand.”

  “This is a good thing. We are beginning to hear each other clearly, little sister.” He looked so proud I swallowed a disagreeing snort. Conall slapped his knees, face lightening, and becoming fair with a beauty I had not known a male could possess. “And now you learn our family history. Our mother was Sorcha. A fairy of such beauty and grace there was nothing she could not have or command from anyone. When I was a boy, I watched our father rule our people when the forests covered the earth. As a young man I watched him keep us safe when the humans built their cities and destroyed our forests.” His voice became thick with emotion. “We learned to blend. To glamour ourselves to look and move like them so we could be safe. We would convene in parks and woodlands to frolic and tend to the nature that was left. Our numbers dwindled and we became myth and legend to a race that once lived with us in harmony.” Conall’s face was tight, strained. “The other races spawned from us were not so amenable to change. They were not content to hide.”