“Yeah, great.” The boy was still sheet-white. “You couldn’t have warned me sooner that I was supposed to get out of the car? I thought you would just come outside!”
“That was the original plan—which wasn’t helped by your loud-ass truck! And, what, you couldn’t have warned me you were going to wear a Corona hat?” I eyed the thing with hate.
He ground his teeth, pulling out of the driveway. “I borrowed it from Drake. Sorry.”
I rolled my eyes. Oh well. It wasn’t worth getting mad about when it was over now. Zoning, I stared out my window as the Silverado growled down the road. When we hit the main way, I asked, “So what will I be learning tonight? I want to know more about that planet diagram in the binder. Was that the faerie world?”
His shoulders tensed. “… Yes.”
“So it’s a planet?”
“Sort of.”
“What does that mean?”
“You can’t even wait until after dinner?”
“Come on, you said we only covered the basics!” I put on my cutest smile, the one I saved for extracting answers from reluctant boys. It almost always worked. The only men impervious to the power of the Smile were dad, Joe, and the boys. “I want to know more!”
His lips pressed into a thin line. For some reason—and to my amazement— the Smile didn’t seem to be working on him, either. “The more you know, the more your life is put in danger,” he muttered. “Do I need to keep reminding you of that?”
“Well, no.” Ok, so I was a little caught off guard. But I quickly recovered. “But not in anymore danger than your life, right?”
He didn’t respond to that. Just when I figured my argument was lost, he gave in with a sigh. Mua, ha, ha. The power of the Smile succeeds again. “Their world is sort of the alternate reality of Earth, named Fethe Pentranna. The word, fethe, meaning first, and the word pentra, meaning people. The suffix anna is often used when talking of a place or a dimension… or a world.”
“So it’s like, place of the first people?” I guessed after a moment of piecing the words together.
He gave a single nod. “Fethe Pentranna was said to be created shortly before Earth. Some argue it’s the Earth’s reflection in another dimension while others argue that Earth is Pentranna’s reflection. Some argue it’s neither one; they’re just two planets connected. But they have basically the same continents and conditions.
“Either way, it is home to faeries and creatures of myths instead of animals and humans. And their world isn’t exactly in this dimension, either. You can’t reach it by space shuttle, for example.”
“Oh.” I gaped, totally fascinated. “So wait, if their world isn’t here, how do you get to Pentranna? If Adrian came through, there must be a way to go back.”
“There is. Yes.” His tongue poked at the inside of his cheek. “You know, we have two and a half hours before you have to be home, there’s plenty of time to discuss this at the apartment.”
“But I wanna know now.” I pretended to pout.
“Cut me some slack! I agreed to this little evening get-together, didn’t I? I could’ve blown it off if I wanted.”
“… Yeah. I suppose you could’ve,” I muttered, narrowing my eyes at the windshield. “But you didn’t. And that’s the part that matters.”
He gave me an exasperated look as we came to a stoplight. It was the look that said: you’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?
When we got to the apartments, we were not as alone tonight. Even while the eerie buildings still seemed dead and silent, the two old men I’d seen were gone. Instead, looming on the sidewalk was a group of teenagers. They hovered under a dim streetlight dressed head to toe in black. A cloud of opaque smoke drifted over their heads.
I heard Hayden cuss under his breath. “Wonderful.”
“What?” I eyed the gang. They seemed like your typical punks, outsiders. I’d dealt with plenty of those in my lifetime.
He rolled his eyes like he’d heard my thoughts. “Zip up your jacket. Stay close.”
“Who are they?”
“City trash, but the two on the end are fey. Do me a favor and don’t look at them?”
My nerves kick in for the first time. “… Ok.”
Hayden was by my side the second we were out of the truck. I zipped up my PINK sweater, hiding the tiny line of cleavage that’d been showing and glanced over his shoulder. They didn’t seem to notice us. Not yet. But I noticed that among the six homely figures on the dark street, there were two that stood out from the crowd.
They were tall and muscular, carrying a slight resemblance to the orcs off the Lord of the Rings movies. Cigarettes hung from their mouths, balanced between pale fingers. In the lamplight, their eyes were visible through their damp manes of hair. Black holes, they looked like, or caverns nestled at the bottom of the ocean. I’d hate to know what Hayden was seeing with The Sight.
“Rose,” Hayden snapped. I tore my eyes from them. “Don’t. You’ll gain unwanted attention.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
His voice softened. “Don’t be scared, ok?”
I couldn’t speak, so I nodded. My primitive instincts were acting up as my adrenaline doubled. Again, I thought of that new word I kept crossing lately: predator.
Hayden walked arm-to-arm beside me. My gaze was fixed on the upcoming stairs. I had this terrible urge to grab his hand, but that might’ve been a bad idea.
I almost thought we would go unnoticed as the gang kept laughing and making jokes too crude to recall, but as we stepped up the sidewalk the noise—unfortunately—died. Hayden tensed. In a flash, his arm was around my shoulders. Maybe I could’ve grabbed his hand after all.
The gang rumbled with low mutters. They were watching.
“Hey, Hayden!” One called to us. “That’s a pretty one you got there!”
I glanced at the source of the noise, but snapped my head forward before the faerie with the tattoos up his arm met my gaze.
Someone whistled. “Yeah, that’s a nice one. Don’t suppose you’d mind sharing?”
Hayden made no effort to respond. “Up the stairs,” he whispered.
“I think that’s the finest he’s brought back yet, don’t you think Hobbes?” A husky voice asked.
“Yeah, considering that’s the only one he’s ever brought back!”
They burst out laughing. I received catcalls all the way to the door. Derek and his crew came to mind, the day they were all hovering around my car. The only difference between that incident and right now: I wasn’t so afraid of Derek’s gang.
To say I was “grateful” as our shoes set foot inside the apartment was an understatement. I crossed the carpet and flopped into the chair, sighing in relief. “Wow. That was… kind of scary.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Hayden threw his jacket over the couch, revealing a tight, black, long-sleeved Corona shirt.
I scrutinized his choice of clothing. “Thank God you weren’t wearing that in front of my dad.”
“You and me both.” He smirked from the kitchen. Turning towards the microwave, he faced a note that had been stuck to its surface. His eyes scanned over it once and he growled, “Aw, sheeze.”
“Huh?”
He glanced at the clock by the fireplace. “Idiots.”
“Hayden? What is it?” I sat up.
He crumpled the note and tossed it in the garbage. “Drake and Lea left ten minutes ago. I hope you’re not hungry just yet. Food’s not going to be here for a good half hour at this rate. Drake drives like an old man.”
“Oh.” Good thing I snacked when I got home from the shop. “Nah, I’m fine.”
He rummaged around the fridge. “You want anything to drink?”
“No, thanks.” I jumped up and skipped to the fireplace. “So. Where’s the binder?”
“Nah-uh! What did I say about that?” He snapped his head up, one hand tightening around the fridge handle.
“Awww, come on! Please?”
“Nope,
” he said. It didn’t sound negotiable. “Nope, nope, nope.” He shut the fridge, shaking a metal can. It looked like a protein drink.
I eyed the can. “Question.”
“Yeah?”
“Faeries don’t like metal. There is so much metal around here and in Los Angeles. How can faeries live here?”
“Well.” He paused, pursing his lips. “You have to be careful what stories you read. While faeries don’t like metal, not all of them are allergic or reactive to it. Their skin doesn’t start melting like vampires in holy water or whatever.”
The steel knives in my window came to mind. “Then why did you have me put metal in my window?”
Hayden sipped his drink. “It’s a warning. Metal is the physical strength of mankind, the most used man-made substance. To put metal in your windows or doors tells any ill-minded fey that you come from a powerful race. Unless they wish to challenge that, they should back off… In the old days, Indians used to hang spearheads around their camps. It told any nearby faeries that if they entered that territory, they would be skewed alive.”
“Wow.” It was both fascinating and discomforting to hear this. Fascinating because it was faerie history I’d never heard, but discomforting because it meant that metal was harmless. Should a faerie decide he/she really wanted to kill me, metal wasn’t a physical barrier like I’d thought.
If he wanted, Adrian could come through my window.
I turned back to the book collection, filing this thought away. Hayden had a lot of books, actually. If he bought many more they would be flowing off the mantel. I read mostly fantasy titles, though there were a few questionable ones that I was sure were not fantasy. I pulled out a paperback entitled, Lucky Country, Montana. My eyes made contact with a half naked cowboy holding a topless cowgirl. I quickly jammed the book back, covering my mouth and nose so I wouldn’t burst out in guffaws.
“That is not mine.”
I startled. “Oh my gosh.”
Hayden had appeared inches behind me, admiring his collection. “I borrowed it from one of Drake’s girlfriends and by the second chapter I was done with it.” He sipped his drink again, then snorted. “I’d never read such smut in my life.”
I bit my lip. “I can’t believe you tried to read erotica. Even I don’t read that stuff.”
“Yeah, well, before that book I thought erotica was some sort of fancy term for epic fantasy or something—don’t ask why… course that explained why all the things I’d seen that were labeled erotica usually displayed naked chicks.”
A giggle slipped loose. I shook with silent laughter while scanning some other titles. “Oh.” I spotted a novel entitled, The Summer Child. “Oh, wow. I can see why you have that one.” I hadn’t read it yet, but I knew it was a faerie book, a story inspired by the Shakespeare play A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
“Yeah. Wasn’t really my thing, but I did it more as like, a research assignment.” He leaned against the end of the fireplace, looking thoughtful. “I was curious to see what other kinds of stories people had heard or made up about the fey.”
I pulled the book down and skimmed the summary on the flap. I stared at the cover, of a summer faerie dancing alongside a faerie wrapped in shadows. The black faerie wore a crown on her head, her eyes glittering red. “Hayden?”
“Uh-huh?”
“What did the fey in the street want with you? Are all dark faeries like that?”
“Ugh,” he sneered, scrunching up his nose. “Yes, many are like that. Those two just enjoy bugging me because I’m a son of the Bavellas court. They find it comical I don’t try to be more like Adrian, the freaks.” He swirled his protein shake, avoiding eye contact all of a sudden. “Of course, it’s for that same reason they’ll never do anything to me. Adrian frightens them.”
I replaced The Summer Child on the shelf. “How are they here? Do they sneak by the faerie courts or what?”
He tilted his head, weighing his words. “There was a time about three-hundred years ago when fey with a reckless streak found getting into the human world real fun. There were many here already, before Earth was off limits. Thanks to the sivehas that amount has massively decreased in the last few decades.”
I stared blankly at some other titles, not really reading them anymore. Then I came across a book named Atrocious Silver. I took it down and glanced at the cover. There was a young man sitting against a brick wall under a full moon. His eyes were grey.
My memory jogged. “Why won’t you tell me?” I whispered.
“Huh?” Hayden had been zoning.
“Why won’t you tell me about your faerie traits? I’ve seen Adrian’s now. I’ve seen Lea’s in the binder, and his fiancée’s… why not yours?”
“Aw hell, Rose!” He threw an arm in the air, moving back towards the kitchen. “You—I can’t—… Damn, you don’t want to see my traits!”
“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t want!” I trailed after him, stopping at the counter. “I can’t understand why you won’t tell me! It can’t be that bad. You can trust me.”
He shook his head, eyes wild as he threw the can away with a little too much force. “Not happening.”
“And why not?”
He slammed the cabinet door below the sink so hard that the whole kitchen shook. The lamp in the living room sounded with a crack and went out, the stove light faltering.
I froze.
His expression was hard as he faced me. “Because I got dark faerie traits, Rose. Traits like what the pair hanging out on the street have! You know how you looked at all those pictures last time you were here and you asked me if all fey were beautiful?”
“I remember,” I whispered. How I began to regret that question.
“And do you remember how I said some aren’t?”
“… Yes.”
“Well— … Oye.” He rubbed his forehead and readjusted his hat.
I leaned on the counter, watching him stare hopelessly at the floor. “Please?” I whispered. “What are you so afraid of?”
He squeezed his eyes shut, hands on his hips. No response.
“Do you think I won’t handle it? Or, what?”
“I don’t know what you’ll think,” he snapped. “That’s what scares me.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what I think then.” It sounded simple enough to me. And not much scared me. “Ok?”
He gave me a nasty look. “And if you think I’m a monster? Then what?”
“You are so not a monster,” I scolded. Whatever his traits, monster was a word I wouldn’t use towards him. “Adrian’s the monster. If you were like him you’d have let him eat me by now.”
He winced. His hand gouged into his face, pulling on his cheek. “Alright— you know what—here!”
The next thing I knew he’d crossed the kitchen and seized my wrist. He yanked me into the living room and I fell onto the couch. It was dark without the lamp, the moonlight from the night sky the only real light source now. He was standing by the window, staring down at his open hands.
“Hayden?” My nerves returned.
“Just remember,” he said without looking at me. “You’re the one that wanted to see.”
A rush of excitement streamed my veins. He was going to show me. At last, I would finally understand all his bizarre little habits, his need to stay away. He was letting me into his world, his personal space that I was pretty darn sure he didn’t let many near.
He took a deep breath, then slowly extended an arm into the moonlight flowing through the glass. At first, I didn’t see anything. Just a human hand. Then I realized his skin was glowing under the moonlight. No… his skin was shining, solidifying into a covering of silver. Real silver instead of flesh. His nails elongated like bird’s talons, grey talons sharp enough to cut glass.
And yet, I felt like—
“That’s it?” I blurted. “So, what, you turn silver and have claws? Talons? That’s what you thought I’d be afraid of?”
His face was unreadable. “No, that is
n’t all.” He flipped off his hat and pulled his shirt over his head. My heart skipped a beat as I eyed his abs and arm muscles (somebody was working out). Stepping forward, he balanced his knuckles on the coffee table. His back was moving, rippling like water under falling rain. Two silver vines emerged from either side of his spine. Long and thick, they curved down to the floor, and out of thin air, rows of feathers rapidly grew from them.
Rows of silver feathers with black centers.
I gasped, slapping a hand over my mouth. They were identical to the feather in the woods at camp, the night I’d heard someone in the dark. He straightened up and I took in his full image. “You… you have wings.” I could barely say it.
He grimaced. “Wings and claws and skin of silver. Yeah. Pretty much.”
I scanned him head to toe. “A monster, huh?” And where exactly did his interpretation of monsters come from? Monsters were things with three eyes or sharp fangs and distorted faces. He was nothing like a monster; he looked like the type of superhero I’d have watched on the WB Saturday mornings during my tomboy years. I found myself rising from the couch. “You look more like… a celestial angel.”
“Psh! Right. An angel.” He rolled his eyes. I started towards him and, as he realized my feet weren’t coming to a halt, he backed away. “Hey, what are you doing?”
“What? I can’t have a closer look?” Did he really expect me to admire from afar when I had the ability to be closer? When there was no fence, wall, invisible veil separating us? “I’ve never seen anything like you in my life! You look… you look too good to be real.”
“Too good to be real?” His eyebrows shot up, feet still moving to keep the distance between us. “You’re joking, right?”
“Can I touch you? Do you feel like silver?”
“Whoa!” He went rigid, holding his hands up. “Uh—yeah—no, I’d prefer you didn’t.”
“And… what would happen if I did?”
“Well, I—if you—Rose, don’t! You can’t just—” He babbled until I’d practically cornered him. Flattened against the wall by the television, for the first time, he looked afraid of me instead of it being the other way around.
A Taste of Silver Page 20