Just Believe

by Anne Manning

  "You said you were waiting for your brother," the officer reminded him, poking him again.

  "Stop that! It was a double date."

  "Really?" The woman's eyes passed over Gaelen's form, evaluating him. "At eight in the morning?"

  "What difference does time make to a man in love? So, where did my sweet Linette go?" Gaelen asked again. He put on his best leer. "I'm a little anxious to get her alone."

  The nurse smiled. "Dr. Duncan is transporting a couple of patients this morning."

  "Transporting?" Gaelen asked, a chill running down his spine. "Which patients?"

  "I don't really know." The nurse's forehead wrinkled as though she was trying to remember something. "I should, though, shouldn't I?" She wandered off, shaking her head.

  "Damn. Pixie-led."

  "What?" the officer asked. "What are you talking about?"

  Gaelen didn't answer. As he got on the elevator, he silently kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. Every mortal being on the whole floor was pixie-led. Linette had bewitched them, so they wandered the halls, not seeing anything Linette didn't want them to see.

  And he'd left Lucas all alone in the midst of it.

  During the ride down in the elevator, Gaelen wondered if he should try to escape. He weighed the danger of revealing himself and just getting the heck out of here. Time was wasting, and Lucas and Erin would soon be on a plane to Ireland. He had no illusions that Linette would bother taking them to New Jersey to let the North American Council take care of the matter.

  Not to mention that now he needed help, and there was nowhere to get it.

  Annabelle. He'd need a mortal to break the enchantment that would no doubt have been placed over Erin to make her manageable and compliant.

  But to enlist Annabelle's aid, he'd have to reveal to her his nature.

  He wasn't sure he could handle that.

  The blunt barrel of the pistol again punched Gaelen in the kidney.

  "Get movin', buddy," the officer said, his tone announcing growing irritation.

  For now, there was nothing else to do but accompany the officer to the main security office. With luck, he could get this cleared up and get on with his business.

  * * * *

  Annabelle wandered along a hallway, a fog of confusion around her head. She'd felt it settle over her as soon as she'd gotten off the elevator and couldn't for the life of her remember why she was here. She couldn't even remember where she was.

  Nothing looked familiar, though the place looked like a hospital.

  And didn't Mom come, too? Where was she?

  Twisting around and walking backward for a few steps, she passed an elevator where the doors were just closing. A tall man with wheat-gold hair leaned against the wall inside, an expression of supreme irritation on his very handsome face.

  Gaelen.

  White hot heat flooded her face and flashed down her neck. Snatches of memory poked through the haze and she could feel the way he'd touched her. In her dream, that is. It had only been a dream. There was no reason to be embarrassed. He didn't know how infatuated she was.

  The fog parted, still making it hard to think, but wispy and less confusing. Seeing Gaelen reminded her where she was.

  "Erin." She continued along the hallway, letting her gaze pass over the whole area, trying to orient herself. "Yes," she whispered. "Erin is in...this room." Pushing open the door, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Approaching the bedside, she was at first relieved to see her sister sleeping so soundly.

  "Just like a log," Annabelle whispered with a little smile, a smile that faded as she realized how true her words were.

  Erin lay on her back, arms stiff at her sides. Her face bore no expression, no small smile at a pleasant dream, no frown of discomfort as she rolled over to get more comfortable. In fact, she lay...just like a log. Stock still, only the slow movement of her chest up and down showed the figure in the bed still lived.

  Afraid to, afraid not to, Annabelle gently set her hand on Erin's shoulder and shook.

  "Erin, honey. It's me. It's Annabelle, sweetie. Wake up."

  Erin slept on.

  Annabelle slumped in the chair by the bed, a deep sigh escaping her. What had happened?

  "Erin, please wake up." Her plea went unanswered. A sudden chill rippled through her. What if...?

  She couldn't finish the thought, and fought it, not allowing her gaze to leave her sister's body, as though by keeping the connection she could keep Erin here.

  "Please don't die, Erin. Don't leave me."

  Erin lay so still, Annabelle was struck with the memory of her father's death. She'd been there when he passed, keeping her tears banked up while he struggled for a breath. Even at the end, though, he'd been himself. He'd tried to soothe her pain, making her smile in spite of herself as he whispered "Whatcha gonna do?" These simple words were his motto for getting through the bad times in life.

  Whatcha gonna do? Just get through it and go on.

  Staring at Erin's still form, Annabelle felt the dread of another loss. Sure, the doctor hadn't said anything about Erin being in danger of dying, but Annabelle couldn't escape the fear that she was about to lose her sister forever.

  Her silent vigil was interrupted by the scrape of the door opening.

  "Here you are," her mother's voice broke in. "I've been looking for you. Annabelle, I'm so worried. I think I might be getting senile." Her smooth brow wrinkled with concern. "I couldn't remember where I was. I couldn't remember anything."

  "Here, sit." Annabelle got up to give her mother a seat. "Don't worry, Mom. The same thing happened to me. We're just worn out and exhausted by all this," she said, as much for herself as her mother. Smiling, she smoothed her mother's hair in a gentle caress. "Do you think Erin might be right? You think the hospital has been taken over by aliens?"

  Susan smiled wryly, relieving Annabelle's mind somewhat. If she could see humor in this, she'd be all right.

  "Aliens?” Mom shook her head. “No. I felt more like I was being pixie-led."

  "Pixie-led? What's that?"

  "That's when the pixies confuse you, so you wander around and can't find your way."

  Pixies. A sense that she was on to something raised the hair on the back of Annabelle’s neck.

  "Look, dear. A firefly."

  Annabelle turned to her mother, then followed Susan's gaze toward the window. A flicker of light beat against the glass, just like the first night--was it only three nights ago?--when Erin had sworn it was an alien coming to abduct her the same way they'd taken Lucas.

  But they hadn't taken Lucas after all.

  The firefly tapped at the window. Flittering, tapping. Flying away in a circle, only to return and tap again.

  Almost like it was a code.

  She stared at the window.

  "Isn't that odd?" Susan asked. "Almost like he's trying to get in." She sighed deeply and turned back to Erin, laying her hand on Erin's hair and sweeping the tendrils back. "My poor baby," she murmured.

  Susan sighed again, shuddering this time, the anguish breaking Annabelle's heart. She knelt by her mother's side and wrapped her in a hug.

  "Don't worry, Mom. She'll be all right."

  "I'm trying to believe that, dear. I'm trying."

  Believe.

  Annabelle's eyes were drawn back to the window, where the firefly still tapped against the glass.

  Susan should go home. She needs to rest. You can stay with Erin and look after her.

  Eyes blinking in amazement, Annabelle listened.

  The voice speaking to her. It was Gaelen's.

  "Gaelen," she whispered.

  Yes, love, it's me. Send your mother home. We must talk.

  With no more thought about it, Annabelle took her mother's hand, her writer's instincts concocting the words to accomplish what she wanted.

  "Mom, it looks like it's going to be a very long vigil. The doctor doesn't know when Erin will come out of this." She tipped her head so she
could catch Susan's eyes, still fastened on Erin. "Why don't you let me take the first watch?" Susan opened her mouth to protest. Annabelle cut her off. "I promise I'll call you if there's any change at all. Please, Mom?" She laid her hand on her mother's arm. "Let me do this for you."

  * * * *

  It had been a small matter to squoosh when the officer wasn't looking and flicker out of the office. Now, Gaelen hovered by the window, watching as Susan nodded with supreme reluctance and rose from the chair. He turned his attention away from the sight as she bent over to leave a kiss on the abominable thing that had been placed in Erin's bed.

  When he got his hands on Linette Duncan, he'd...

  It was times like these Gaelen was very glad he'd lived among mortals for so long. Fairies, in spite of the myths and rather inventive tales, were larger-than-life creatures, both in size and temperament. They loved deeper, hated hotter, sought revenge and romance with greater determination, mourned with greater heartbreak than mortal folk. Only twenty years of hiding his nature had taught Gaelen how to control it.

  So, he took his fairy-sized anger in hand. There'd be time enough for that later, when Lucas and Erin were home safe. Then, he'd make sure there was a reckoning for this. He pushed to the side how much of his desire for revenge was for Annabelle's sake. It was such a connection with a mortal female that had started this whole mess in the first place.

  Did she remember their interlude in the Dream Realm? Had she been as affected as he had been?

  He'd know soon enough.

  He returned his attention to the window in time to see Susan go to the door, glance back with longing pain at the thing imitating her daughter, then leave the room.

  Stay there, love, he told Annabelle silently, I'm coming.

  She heard him. She turned toward the window as she had before, the look on her face not one of disbelief, as he'd feared, but amazement.

  That reassured him. After all, what was amazement but another form of discernment?

  His spirits rose as he flew to the top of the building and slipped into the air conditioner ducts, which were fortunately not operating right now. A quick dart down to the eleventh floor and he came out into the hallway, slowly, so as not to flicker and attract attention. He floated at the door to Erin's room briefly, seeking some idea of the mood inside. Then he flew around the corner, stopped, and unsquooshed.

  "Whew!" One hand on the wall to steady himself, the other raised to check the time, Gaelen caught his breath.

  As he paced the distance to Erin's room, he wondered how he could explain to Annabelle. How could he tell her what he was? How could he explain the nature of his nature?

  And would she believe? Or would she take his tale as grist for a story in her tabloid rag, one that would lead to ridicule and derision? And expressed disbelief. Such a reaction from the extensive audience of The Weekly Investigator would set up a wave that would rock Faerie to its foundations.

  Yet what other choice did he have? Lucas would never leave without Erin. He'd never allow her to be held captive in Tir-Nan-Og forever. Gaelen would not allow his brother to be held either. The only answer was to fight this and get them both out. There had to be a way to sway the Great Council, to get that damned law rescinded.

  Even with this determination, he paused when he reached Erin's room. Beyond the door was a woman who could either help him or destroy them all, even if she didn't mean to.

  Time's a wastin', he thought as he pushed open the door.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Annabelle heard the door open, but couldn't turn away from Erin. She lay there so still, so quiet, not even a twitch in her sleep.

  "Annabelle?"

  Gaelen's voice, surprising as it was, didn't startle her. She'd expected him, could almost remember him telling her he was coming, to wait for him.

  Annabelle turned toward him. Her heart flipped over as he raised his hands to her. Was he offering to hold her? Even though it had only been a dream, she had made love to this man and longed to have his arms around her again. If Dr. Duncan had been correct, sympathy was all Gaelen could offer. Would accepting his comforting embrace now cause her more hurt later?

  He must have seen the question in her eyes. He raised his arms higher, open, waiting.

  She stood up, not knowing if she could even take the two steps to bring herself within the protection of his arms. Gaelen must have seen that, too, because he took the necessary steps and enfolded her, holding her against him, seeming to absorb into his own body the shaking of hers. He was so warm, so solid, and his arms felt so good around her, she just gave up trying to be strong.

  "I'm sorry," she said, wiping at the wet spot on his shirt where her tears had soaked through.

  "Don't you dare apologize, darlin'. I'm here, and we'll make everything right." His arms tightened around her and he breathed deeply.

  She looked up at him. "You're so sweet to be so concerned about Erin."

  He squeezed her tighter, then he pulled a linen handkerchief from his pocket. "Here." He wiped her eyes and held the handkerchief to her nose. "Like a good girl, now."

  Obediently she blew her nose. He folded the handkerchief and put it back in his pocket, then sat on the side of the bed while Annabelle returned to her seat in the ugly plastic chair.

  A rueful chuckle escaped her throat. "I never knew where the saying came from before, but I do now."

  "What saying?"

  "You know the one. Sleeping like a log?"

  The strangest expression crossed Gaelen's face, unbroken by even a trace of a smile at her little joke.

  His sky-blue eyes flicked over to the bed, then away. Annabelle could have convinced herself she saw disgust on his face.

  "Love, I have something I have to tell you. Look at me."

  The tone of his voice forced her to obey him, her heart beating with dread.

  "Annabelle, do you remember when you were a young girl," he started, "maybe, twelve or thirteen or so, you heard a ruckus in the back yard in the tool shed? You went out there. Do you remember seeing something?" His pause was full of uncertainty she could actually feel. "Something unusual?"

  "How do you know about that?"

  "Just tell me what you remember seeing."

  "I can't talk about that now, Gaelen."

  "Please, darlin', remember and tell me."

  Spurred by the urgency of his voice, she pulled up the memory, trying to see the fantastic vision again.

  "I saw a boy, maybe five or so years older than me. He was crouched in the corner of the shed." She felt her blush zoom up her face. "He was, ah, naked."

  Did Gaelen blush, too?

  "Yes. What else did you see? What was there out of the ordinary?"

  In a flash, the picture appeared in her mind. The handsome boy with wheat-gold hair and eyes as blue as the sky. He grimaced as though in pain. Behind him, spreading wide and tall, maybe three feet higher than the top of his head. Iridescent, twinkling, with transparent tissue, the colors changing. They twitched, just like...

  "Wings."

  "Aye, love, wings." He reached for her hands. "Do you remember thinking it wasn't real?"

  She'd forgotten that part. It did seem like a dream, like a memory you couldn't trust.

  "How do you know that?" she asked again.

  Again he dodged the question. "Tell me. What happened to the boy when you thought he wasn't real?"

  The picture again flashed into her head. The boy bent over, a grimace marring the perfection of his features.

  Believe. Please, believe.

  The boy's words had shocked her. And she'd been certain then that he was indeed real. She'd forgotten about his nakedness and went to him, offering him help, which he accepted gratefully.

  "You believed. You saved him because you believed." He knelt down by her chair, setting his knuckles under her chin, tipping her face up to meet his gaze. "You saved me, Annabelle. That boy was me."

  "It was you?" She knew it was the truth. "You were in pain," s
he said simply.

  With a nod, Gaelen said, "It doesn't matter now. You did me a kindness that night. I never got a chance to thank you." He raised her hands to his lips, kissing each in turn, first the backs, then the palms. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome," she whispered.

  "I owe you a great debt, Annabelle. My kind never forget a kindness."

  "You don't owe me--"

  He placed his finger over her lips. "Shhh. But I must ask you for another favor first. Annabelle, what I'm about to tell you, you must promise me you'll believe with your whole heart. You must promise you will never, ever divulge to any living person what you are about to learn, nor what you will see in the days to come."

  Her dread grew greater. "What's going on, Gaelen? Lucas hinted at some terrible things and secrets and danger. Danger to Erin." She grabbed his sleeve. "You tell me right now."

  "I must have your promise. Everything depends on it. You will never divulge--"

  "I promise!" she cut in. "Tell me."

  "You'll believe?"

  "I said I promise--"

  He grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard. "I'll not tell you a word until I know you understand how serious I am. My existence, the existence of my people, depends on it. You must believe."

  He frightened her then, the intensity of his stare, his strong fingers digging into her shoulders, the way his voice trembled.

  "I believe. I promise I will believe."

  Gaelen relaxed his grip and leaned back on his heels. "I'm sorry, love. Did I hurt you?"

  "No," she lied. "Tell me," she said. This time it was a plea, not a demand.

  With a single nod, he rose. She noticed he kept his eyes averted from Erin, the fleeting glimpse of disgust she'd seen before appeared again, only to disappear so quickly she wasn't sure yet if she'd really seen it.

  "This isn't Erin," he said.

  Annabelle's eyes flicked between his face and Erin's. "What? Of course it is."

  "No, dearest, it isn't. They've taken Erin."

  "Who? The aliens?" she asked sarcastically.

  Gaelen's chuckle bore no humor. "Not like you mean." He reached into his pocket and pulled a crystal bottle from his jacket pocket. "Here, let me put some of this on your eye."