Blood of the Fae

by Tom Mohan

  “I also do some acting, in plays and such.”

  “Ah, I see. So, are you an editor who acts in her spare time or an actress who edits to pay the bills?”

  Liza thought about it. “Both, I guess.”

  Fallon’s tone grew serious for the first time since Liza had met her. “You can’t be both. You can do both, but you can’t be both. That’s a fallacy too many people live with. How you define yourself tells who you really are. Who are you, Elizabeth McCarthy?”

  I’m all alone in the world, Liza thought, but she was not ready to go there with a woman she’d known less than an hour. “Only my mother calls me Elizabeth. Her gardener, Manny, started calling me Liza when I was little. I like Liza better, I think.”

  “What do you mean, you think? Who are you?”

  Liza felt a surge of enthusiasm. “I’m Liza. Yes, I’m Liza, and I’m an actress.”

  Fallon held up her hand for a high-five. “There, doesn’t it feel good to finally know who you really are?”

  Liza smacked Fallon’s hand. “Yeah, it does.”

  “Well now, Liza, tomorrow we will go see Brianna and find out what this backward town needs with an actress.”

  Dark woods surround Liza as she wanders through the maze of trees. All around her is nothing but dark forest. Unseen creatures scuttle through the underbrush. The forest is strange, yet familiar—frightening yet comforting. She can feel eyes on her, knows she is being watched, but is unconcerned. Cool grass on her feet informs her that she is barefoot. She looks down and sees that she is completely naked. Again, she is unconcerned. Being naked in the forest feels natural.

  I’m dreaming, that’s why nothing feels as it should. This is just a dream.

  A light breeze flits through the trees above her, and with it an ancient voice.

  Kiari.

  Liza stops and listens. The word is familiar to her.

  Kiari.

  Not a word, a name.

  Liza.

  Liza’s eyes slid open. For a moment, she couldn’t remember where she was. The floral scent of the forest vanished, replaced by stale smoke masked by Febreze. The memory of the dream faded as the unfamiliar shadows of the hotel room returned her to reality. Her body remained still as her eyes scanned the room. Something had woken her. The soft hum of the air conditioner beneath the window was the only sound.

  She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but the feeling that something wasn’t right continued to gnaw at her. With a resigned sigh, she tossed the covers aside and climbed out of bed. The room was not so dark as to make moving about difficult. She found her robe on the desk chair and pulled it on. The curtain billowed in the draft of the air conditioner. Liza stared at it as it fluttered almost hypnotically. She reached out and pulled the curtain aside. The night was cast in a gray murkiness unlike anything she remembered seeing at home.

  But I’m not home.

  The thought reminded her that no matter how normal this tiny town seemed, the events that had brought her there were anything but normal. Outside, a light mist swirled with the breeze, dancing in ghostly images. Across the parking lot, the row of trees that had been healthy and green in the daylight now stood bare and dead.

  That’s not possible.

  She felt a chill and shivered beneath the short robe. Something moved at the edge of the tree line. At first, she thought it was some small animal, a skunk or possum, but as it moved further from the shadows, she saw it was a large snake. A distant voice in her mind told her to close the curtain and get back in bed, hide under the covers until daylight. Instead, she remained at the window, mesmerized by the sight below.

  The snake slithered out of the trees until its body was fully exposed. If it had any color, Liza could not discern it. The snake was as gray as the world that surrounded it. Liza continued to watch, eyes wide and breath coming in short gasps, as the serpent continued its smooth glide across the parking lot. Its head was lifted off the ground, forked tongue tasting the air.

  It stopped some twenty feet from the building. Its triangular-shaped head danced back and forth as its tongue continued to flicker in and out. The snake’s black eyes found Liza’s window. The tongue flicked faster. It opened its mouth wide, exposing long, sharp fangs. Liza’s heart thumped hard in her chest. She broke out in a sweat even though she stood in front of the cool air.

  Outside, the snake closed its mouth and lifted its head higher, never taking its eyes from her. Higher and higher it rose, its body thickening, its head growing wider and flatter, until it stood as high as a man. The face became more human. Bulges popped out along the sides of the scaled body from which arms with human hands sprouted. The creature brought its hands together in front, as though praying, and gave a short bow in her direction.

  Liza’s paralysis broke. She dropped the curtain and stepped away from the window. Instead of the bed, her back hit a solid wall. She turned and found herself facing her hotel door—from the outside. She spun back the other way. She was standing on the narrow walkway that led to her second-floor room. Only the weather-worn metal guardrail separated her from the ten-foot drop to the ground below.

  A shriek escaped her throat, and she turned back to the door. She grabbed the knob in a trembling hand, but it refused to turn. She took hold with both hands and pushed and pulled, but the door would not budge. She could feel the serpent-thing’s gaze on her, and she slowly turned back to where it waited. The same gray world met her, the swirling mist cool on the exposed flesh of her legs and feet.

  I’m still dreaming. This has to be a dream.

  It didn’t feel like a dream. Nothing in her life had ever felt more real. The air smelled of mustiness mixed with something sweet and putrid.

  Liza’s gaze returned to the serpent-thing. Its expressionless face continued to watch her. She could almost feel the flickering tongue lick her skin.

  The dark foreboding crept over her, seeping into her mind. Her body began to tremble as panic surged through her. She wanted to scream for help, but the other rooms felt so far—any occupants that might hear her another world away. Movement on the stairs to her left drew her attention. Something small and quick scampered up the concrete steps toward her. The creature was of the deepest black, with red eyes that glowed in the murkiness. Its skin appeared smooth and leathery. Large, pointed ears protruded from its head, and wicked, yellow teeth extended from its lower jaw over its upper lip.

  Liza tried to scream, but no sound would come out. She pressed her back tight against the door as the thing approached. Her mind shouted at her to run, to get away, but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped between the creature on the stairs and the serpent below. Her body remained motionless, frozen in fear.

  The small creature reached the top and continued toward her until it was only inches from her leg. She could hear it cooing, almost a cat’s purr. The thing’s hand reached out and a needle-like claw left a long scratch from below her knee down the side of her calf. She gasped in pain and jerked her leg away, but the thing grabbed her foot and held it tight. Its fingers were strong and cold as it pulled her injured leg closer. She could see her own blood, feel it dripping from the wound.

  Liza felt herself grow dizzy as the thing extended its thick, black tongue. The tongue felt like sandpaper as it licked some of the blood from the scratch. The pain grew numb at its touch. The thing looked up at her, puckering its lips over its teeth in a grotesque manner, and then kissed her foot before releasing her and taking off the way it had come.

  Liza’s glazed eyes followed it until it passed by the snake creature. Again, the serpent gave a slight bow before it morphed back to its original form and slithered into the trees.

  Somewhere, a phone rang. Liza thought it came from her room. She felt cool air blowing on her and found herself standing once more at the window looking out. The gray of the night had turned a more natural dark, and the trees were once again covered in the leaves of late spring. Weariness unlike any she’d ever known washed over her. T
he phone continued to ring, but she ignored it.

  Without another thought, she stumbled to the bed and dropped into a bottomless pit of darkness.

  • • • • • • •

  INSISTENT POUNDING ON the door woke Liza. She groaned as she struggled to pull herself out of a sleep that was reluctant to release its hold.

  “Liza! Are you in there? Open the damn door.”

  “Coming. I’m coming.” Liza’s mouth was dry and her eyes sticky. She rolled out of bed and stumbled to the door. She squinted as brilliant sunshine flowed into the room.

  “It’s about time.” Fallon brushed by Liza.

  “Come on in,” Liza mumbled.

  “What’s with you? Brianna tried to call you last night, and I’ve been pounding on your door for god-knows-how-long. I was about to go get Sidney to unlock it for me.” She pulled the curtains wide, flooding the room with light.

  Liza held a hand in front of her eyes. “Please, I just woke up. Coffee first, then sunlight. That’s a rule in my house.”

  “Yeah, well, this isn’t your house, and since you turned down my offer of coffee yesterday, I wasn’t sure you drank the stuff.” She gave Liza a concerned look. “You okay? You don’t look good.”

  Liza ran a hand through her tangled hair. Her mouth tasted like she’d eaten something rotten. “Just tired. Didn’t sleep very good.”

  Fallon looked past her. “Is that blood on the bed?”

  Liza looked at the dark stain on the comforter. The night’s dream crept into her consciousness, and she peered down at her leg. The scratch was there, red and angry looking. She had not felt the pain until actually seeing the wound. Now that she was aware of it, it stung like crazy.

  “Holy spumoni, girl, what happened to you?”

  “I’m not sure.” Liza looked around the room, but everything looked so normal in the daylight. “I had a weird dream, but it’s hard to remember now.”

  Fallon moved to the sink, where she wet a washcloth and bar of soap. “Sit in the chair and prop your leg on the bed. It looks like it’s getting infected already. How did you not feel that before? It’s got to hurt like hell.”

  Liza wasn’t sure what to say. It did hurt like hell, but the pain, like the dream, felt detached and unreal. She flinched as Fallon dabbed the cut with the soapy cloth. “Ouch! I felt that.”

  “Stop being a baby. We’ll stop at the pharmacy on the way to Bri’s and pick up some disinfectant. If it gets any worse, you’re going to have to see old Doc Simpson and, trust me, you don’t want to do that. Doc thinks a shot is the fix for anything. He loves the needle.” She stopped cleaning the cut and looked up at Liza. “You sure you don’t know how this happened?”

  Liza shook her head. She had a brief flash of some terrifying memory, and then it was gone.

  She felt more like her old self after a shower and the cup of coffee that Fallon had waiting for her when she came out of the bathroom. The shower had caused her gashed leg to throb, and they stopped for some first-aid supplies on the way to Brianna’s house.

  The town was a combination of quaint, well-kept houses mixed with others that had a definite lived-in look and a few that probably should have been condemned. Many had children’s toys and bicycles in the yards. Where she was accustomed to wide-open space above her, the yards of Halden’s Mill grew trees so large that they blocked out much of the sky.

  She was amazed at how open the yards were. There were no fences between the houses. In her world, everyone kept their houses and their lives partitioned from everyone else. Here, everything was open, and she could see through front yards to backyards to houses and yards a block away. There were no barriers, no privacy. Even in the car, she felt exposed.

  The entire town was only about one square mile, so the ride was brief. Liza had left her rental car at the hotel and ridden with Fallon in her pickup truck. Fallon pulled into the driveway of a small, ranch-style house at the edge of town. The lush yard was well maintained, and bright flowers lined the front of the house. The road ended about fifty yards beyond the house in the dirt parking lot of a long, unused baseball field. Vines grew up over the chain-link backstop, and what appeared to be a concession stand was in need of a coat of paint and new roof. The image left Liza feeling a nostalgia for something she’d never known. Behind Brianna’s house was a small field and what looked to be a cemetery beyond that.

  The two women got out of the truck and approached the house. Liza kept expecting Brianna to come out and greet them, but the house remained quiet. So much for small-town hospitality. Fallon climbed the two steps to the tiny porch and opened the door. “We’re here,” she called as she invited herself in.

  Liza felt nervous as she entered the house of the strange woman she knew only as a voice on a dead phone. The first thing she noticed were the pictures. They were everywhere—hung on walls, covering tables, shelves, and the mantel over the fireplace. Photos of grownups, children, babies, and families were scattered everywhere. Some looked new, but many appeared quite old. A few were black and white. Having lived most of her life like a hermit, the menagerie of faces surrounding her felt strange. She didn’t notice the woman beside the fireplace until she rose from her chair.

  “Greetings, Liza. It’s so nice to finally meet you in person. I’m Brianna Finn.”

  Brianna was only a couple inches shorter than Liza and slender without being thin. Her hair was pulled up on her head in a loose bun, and she wore a long navy dress that looked like something from the early 1900s. Liza guessed her to be a few years older than Fallon and Marcas. Her hair was dark, and she did not have Fallon’s pale skin, but they shared the same nose and jawline. If Liza still harbored any doubts about their claim to be Marcas’s sisters, those doubts were now dashed. The similarities were too close to be denied. Everything Marcas had told her had been a lie.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you as well.” Liza felt she should say more, but her mind was blank. She’d never been good at small talk.

  “I smell cookies baking.” Fallon broke the silence. “Is Paulie here?”

  “He just left,” Brianna said. “I told him you were coming over, and he got all flustered and said he had to go get something. He may be back, or he may not. With Paulie, one never knows.” She gave her sister a sidelong glance. “You shouldn’t tease him so. He never knows how to act around you.”

  “I don’t tease him. I show him affection.”

  “You confuse him.”

  “Who’s Paulie?” Liza interrupted. “You mentioned him on the phone.”

  “Paulie is a very special friend,” Brianna said. “I’m sure you will get the chance to meet him.”

  “You’ll like Paulie,” Fallon said. “Why don’t you two get acquainted while I get us some cookies and tea?” She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Liza alone with Brianna.

  Liza looked around. “Um . . . this is a nice house. Very cozy.”

  Brianna smiled. “Thank you. It has suited me well.”

  “You really like pictures. Are these all relatives?”

  Brianna gazed around the room. “Some. Most are people from the town. I don’t get out, so they come to visit and help me take care of the yard and such. In a town of this size, everyone knows everyone, and we take care of one another, for the most part.” She gestured toward a chair near the door as she seated herself beside the fireplace.

  Liza wanted to ask why such a healthy-looking woman did not get out much, but the question felt too intrusive. She also wanted to ask why the drapes were closed on such a nice day.

  “You have many questions, as do I. Let’s start with some simple ones, shall we?”

  Liza nodded. “Okay.”

  “Last night, you were in distress, but you did not answer your phone when I called.”

  “You called? Last night?”

  “Yes, I called your cell phone and your room phone. You did not hear them?”

  Liza tried to remember the previous night. “I think I do remember a phone. May
be. And a dream. A really strange one.”

  “A nightmare, perhaps?”

  Liza felt her pulse pick up. Something was there, just beyond the reach of her memory. “A nightmare? Yes, I think so.”

  “Don’t forget the scratch.” Fallon sailed back into the room carrying a tray of cookies and glasses of iced tea.

  “What scratch?” Brianna asked.

  Again, Liza had completely forgotten the scratch until Fallon mentioned it. She pulled up the hem of her skirt. “I scratched myself last night. I’m not sure how.”

  Brianna drew closer to get a better look. “That’s a nasty cut. You’d remember getting that.”

  “I don’t. It was there when I woke up this morning. It’s weird, even now, it only hurts when I think about it.”

  Fallon sat on the small couch and dug through her purse. “I picked up some stuff to clean it. Put your foot up here on my lap.”

  Liza did as instructed. She tried to relax as Fallon spread the creamy substance on the wound.

  Brianna sat back. “We will want to discuss that cut later, but for the moment, what other questions do you have? Ones that I can answer, preferably.”

  Liza tried to ignore the pain Fallon was causing her as she cleaned the cut. “How did you call me when my phone was disconnected? How did you even know those men were coming?”

  “How I knew the men were coming is simple—I know things. That’s my role.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  Brianna shrugged off the comment. “For right now, it’s the only answer I have. As to how I called your phone…” She picked up the hand piece of an old rotary phone. “I used this.”

  “That’s just an old phone. That can’t make a disconnected phone ring.”

  Brianna picked up her phone and, rather proudly, displayed that it was not connected either. “Really? It seems to work just fine.”

  Liza could not hide her irritation. “So, you’re saying you have a magic phone?”

  Brianna set the phone back on the table. “When most people use the word magic, they are almost always referring to either illusion or something they simply do not understand. This isn’t magic or illusion.”