The Glass Man

by Jocelyn Adams

  Gallagher winked at me as he followed Neasa out and shut the door behind them. Him, I liked. The other one would take some work.

  I took in the room, still unconvinced I was finally alone. The walls were all painted cream and had bland landscapes hung in carved black frames around the perimeter.

  “A little dreary, don’t you think?” Other buildings had heard me. Would the castle, too?

  The room groaned. The walls shook. The cream paint melted away and pooled on the floor, revealing a deep red. All of the paintings fell with a crash. New ones grew, vivid pictures of sunsets, one of a fae who looked similar to my mother warming her hands by a fire, and other brightly colored landscapes.

  When I gathered my chin off the floor, I managed a smile. “Red suits you better, and I don’t imagine having your guts covered in paint is particularly comfortable.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed. As broad as two kings pushed together and far enough off the ground it took steps just to get down from the mattress.

  After I not-so-gracefully stumbled down the stairs, I clutched the back of a blue wing chair and made my way toward the door in the corner. A stone fireplace crackled along the same wall as the hallway door across from the foot of the bed.

  I sped into the bathroom where most of the fixtures were gilded gold, even the toilet. A sunken tub took up most of the floor, though it was more the size of a small swimming pool than a tub. A glassed-in shower stall sat at the far end with an enormous round golden showerhead perched above the center. I had to admit the thought of a hot shower enticed me. Later. A dark wooden vanity stretched the length of the far wall, with gold bowls on top for the sinks.

  I did my business while shaking my head at the absurdity of such an exorbitant room. When I finished, I pulled open a few closet doors until I found a silk robe that I applied over top of the corset and red butt floss.

  It took me half an hour to stack all of the old pictures along one wall. I stood on the bed, working on a painting half the size of a Volkswagen wedged behind the head board when a voice startled me.

  “Do you need some help with that?” Nix leaned against the doorframe, his hand still on the knob. Amusement ripened his tone.

  “Damn it, Nix, you scared the hell out of me.” My breath heaved out in unhealthy bursts. “Ever hear of knocking?”

  “I did, but you look pretty absorbed in what you’re doing. I guess you didn’t hear me.”

  I’d give him the benefit of the doubt. I nodded my apology and returned my attention to the painting, in search of a place to get a good grip. I had to stretch to reach it. “Would you mind getting the other side of this?”

  He stepped up on the bed beside me, gazed around the room. “Redecorating?”

  We lowered the painting and set it against the front of the headboard. His blond hair tumbled forward. It reminded me of pale corn silk.

  “He is.” I pointed to the wall. “I just made the suggestion.” I jumped off the bed and grunted as I dragged the painting over to the rest. “These buildings are alive. Give them a pat once in a while. They get lonely.”

  “Neasa says they exist to serve us.”

  I gritted my teeth, assembled my thoughts so I didn’t say the nasty words burning my mouth.

  “I didn’t say I agreed with her.” He grinned.

  “Now you’re making fun of me. Nice.” I shook my head and stroked fingers along the smooth wall. “What are these structures exactly?”

  “As our population grows, they rise out of the ground within the faerie mounds. When I needed a place to live, I sent out a burst of Light, and one of the creatures answered me. Once I formed a bond with it, I pictured what I wanted: color, design, furniture. The changes happened before my eyes. My perfect home and companion too, like sleeping in the arms of a cherished friend. Gallagher says they’re shape-shifters that predate even the fae. Somehow they became dependent on our Light to survive. I think they stay here because they enjoy the company.”

  Fae, trolls, witches, shape-shifters. I didn’t have any room left in the mental inn for more, so I held up my hand to stop him. “How do I fix the ones in the rest of the city?”

  Nix smiled half-heartedly. “I give you my word I’ll explain everything, but later.” He motioned to a small table by the door with a tray of food on it. “I brought you something to eat. Why don’t you tuck in, and I’ll find someone to help me take away the snore-worthy art Neasa arranged for you.”

  Maybe Nix wouldn’t be the pain in my neck I’d first imagined. “That would be great.” I returned his smile.

  A jolt of panic caught me off guard when I remembered Liam and Garret.

  “Where are my boys? I mean, thank you for the food and the help. I don’t mean to sound so ungrateful.”

  “They’re waiting for us in the main briefing room. They’ve eaten, showered and changed, and I give you my word nobody has harmed them.”

  “Okay. Can you tell them …” Tell them what? That I ached to have Liam near me again? That the thought of my little brother alone and scared somewhere made my heart hurt? I didn’t know Nix, and I didn’t want to hand him my weaknesses, though my reaction probably betrayed me anyway.

  “I’ll tell them of your concern.”

  I fidgeted with my hair, twisted a bunch in my hands as he took the silver lid off a bowl of orange soup and another from a plate that held a variety of cheese and crackers.

  “Liam tells me you haven’t been able to eat much, so I thought something simple would be best until we can return you to full strength.” The contented smile never left his face as he spoke, or when he stared at me afterwards.

  “Uh … thanks. That’s thoughtful. And good thinking.” I found myself tugging the robe tighter around myself and wondering if his pale skin was as soft as it looked. God, what the hell am I thinking? If I couldn’t be around the fae without turning into a nympho, I’d be going back out to the bush to live under a tree for the rest of my life.

  “Do you need anything else before I go, Lila?” The way he said my name enticed my eyes to his.

  I don’t have time for this! “No. I just need some time to myself. I’ve had better days.”

  “Understandable. Once you’ve had some time to adjust, we’ll establish a link so you can call me metaphysically. For now, there’s a silver wall panel beside the bed. Just place your hand against it, think about what you need and I’ll come. Brígh will be here in a while to drop off your clothes.” He winked at me, but I didn’t know why.

  I wouldn’t hitch my mental caboose to another guy whose presence made me all squeegee. “Thanks,” I mumbled as he walked out the door.

  The instant he left, I wanted him to come back. My frenzy to clean the room had only been a distraction. Alone, I had nothing to do but think.

  Thoughts of Donovan, of his face, of his screams crept out of the shadows of my mind to haunt me. The thought of eating made me gag, so I paced, frantic to take my mind somewhere else again. More dark thoughts poured in: my brother, Milo, bellowing from beyond the door that night, the high-pitched squeals of my little sisters as the Glass Man took them from me, the look on my mother’s face as she closed the floor above me. Garret. Liam. That young boy and girl who witnessed the murders of their entire family. The Conners, who would never be the same again.

  I threw myself on the bed and screamed into a pillow, the sounds in my head growing to a boom, the blood painting my mind’s eye red. The room vibrated as I leapt up, desperate for some way to cut the pain out of me. I ran into the bathroom, stripped off my clothes and turned on the shower. Hot water poured over my head as I slid my back along the wall, shaking until I sat on the white tile beneath the showerhead.

  “Lila,” Liam’s voice whispered through me.

  When I tried to speak I realized I was weeping. “What?” I thought at him.

  “You can’t fool me when I’m with you like this. I can feel your pain. Don’t shut me out.”

  I gasped when his spirit filled me until I thought I�
�d burst. He wrapped his essence around me, an embrace from the inside while the water washed away my tears for Donovan, and for the rest of the ones I couldn’t save.

  Liam fed me his warmth, his desire to take away my ghosts, to grab me up and run away with me, to keep me safe. For the first time since I’d left home, I put the weight of my mind on someone else, and I let him hold me. I wanted to stay that way forever, to never be alone again. The softness of his thoughts sliding through my mind brought light to my dark night.

  When there were no more tears, I pulled myself together and turned the shower off. I would find a way to keep my promise to my mother. I would fix the Seelie and the devastation Parthalan had brought upon the human world. Somehow.

  “I’ll be waiting for you,” Liam whispered as he left my mind.

  I dried myself with a towel and slipped the robe back on before going out to the bedroom. The soup was cold, but it still tasted like ambrosia. I scarfed down the crackers and cheese until the plate held only miniscule crumbs.

  My mouth was still full when the hallway door burst open and a girl rushed in. Her light pink hair, the color of the sky before dawn, was gathered up in a bouncy ponytail that reached down past her shoulders. She had the look of fresh youth—fair skin with a smattering of freckles high on her cheeks and pouty pink glossed lips. Her white skirt flared around her knees, and a T-shirt in the same shade as her hair stretched over her small breasts. She held a bundle of clothes in her arms.

  The young fae stopped mid-stride and scanned the room with barely contained energy, antsy as a racehorse behind the starting gate. When she turned and saw me standing beside the door, she let out a huff.

  “Well, come on, girl.” She urged me forward with a nod toward the bed. “Let’s get you in some practical clothes before old mother hen comes back and pecks my eyes out. They’re waiting for us.” She had to be Brígh.

  “Who is?” I grabbed the clothes and sorted through until I found a pair of reasonably sized black pants.

  “Everyone that’s left in the city.”

  “Where did you find these clothes?” I put on the blue underwear and a matching bra I found in the bundle. I yanked on the pants and pulled a snug-fitting white T-shirt over my head. I rubbed my hands over the cotton, happy to be dressed again.

  “I saw you coming and went looking for something practical for you to wear. I knew the silver bitch would never go for anything but the ruffled shite she wears, so I hooked you up.” Ah, so that’s why Nix winked.

  I stopped while trying to stuff my foot into a grey sock, my thoughts screeching to a halt. “What do you mean you saw me coming?”

  “I’m a Seer. I’m not very good at it yet, but some snippets of the future come to me stronger than others. Seeing you come through the portal sent me off the bed in the middle of the night. Cracked my forehead open on the table and went around for three hours with two black eyes and a red exclamation point carved above my eye. Hurt like a bitch, but I figured I might as well get to work while I was up.” She went from talking to a blinding grin in an instant. Watching her bounce around filled me with some of her restlessness.

  How could they all take their abilities in stride when I hurt more people with mine than I helped? Why weren’t they afraid of their power? I began to wonder if I’d been doing something wrong.

  After I finished lacing up a pair of black sneakers, I went to the door where Brígh pranced as she waited for me.

  “What’s the rush?” I asked.

  Some of her jubilance drained away as she met my stare. Brígh’s anxiety convinced me something waited for me.

  “We received a message from Parthalan.”

  I coughed in an effort to avoid throwing up my soup. “Oh, hell.”

  23

  I sprinted along the corridor after Brígh. The polished alabaster walls gleamed, making the tall, seemingly endless hallway appear brighter than it really was.

  “What was the message?” My chest constricted—not from the exertion of running, but from the horrific thoughts that crept into my mind about what Parthalan might have done or threatened to do. Knowing him, it would be bad.

  She stopped in front of a set of wooden double doors, an inlay of a golden eye in the center of each. The doors opened a moment later, revealing a white chamber. Without a pause, she snatched up my hand and yanked me inside with her. The doors closed, and the light in the walls brightened.

  “What is this thing?” I asked when my vision distorted.

  “It’s a transport. Beats the hell out of walking up the stairs.” She paced and muttered something unintelligible.

  I moved to block her path. “The message. What was it? By the way you’re carrying on, I’m thinking we need to get this transport moving faster.” My heart beat an ominous tune against my rib cage as I stared at her fear-shined eyes.

  “I don’t know exactly, but it freaked out Gallagher. If it freaked him out, then—shit. He doesn’t get freaked out over anything.” She shook her hands out and threw her arms around me. I stumbled back into the wall with my new cling-on. When I couldn’t pry the trembling fae away from my body, I rubbed her back until she calmed.

  “Your Light is so warm,” she whispered against my throat.

  Awkward didn’t quite cover it. I grabbed her by the arms and pushed her back far enough I could see her face.

  “Can you see what Parthalan plans to do?” I asked.

  She dropped her eyes, rubbed her arms. “It doesn’t work that way. And I don’t want to see.” She put a hand over her eyes, a child afraid to look at the monster.

  I wondered how old she was. I guessed late teens, but considering how slowly the fae aged, she could have been anywhere from fifteen to four hundred. “Then how does it work?”

  “I see visions once a path is certain, like when you escaped Parthalan and started for Dun Bray. Nothing with him is ever certain. His madness makes him too unpredictable to see, and his ambition makes him dangerous.” She met my gaze with haunted eyes. “He can still win. He can still destroy everything we are and every last human on the earth. All he needs is you to do it.”

  I slumped against the chamber wall. She spoke the truth, but to hear a certified psychic say it out loud crumbled the momentum I’d been building.

  The doors opened. Panic launched me out of the transport beneath a domed glass ceiling. The enormous circular room hummed, filled with at least fifty fae, sitting, standing, some talking and some staring absently at the alabaster walls. Their postures, low voices and darting eyes betrayed a communal fear.

  Liam bolted up from a black leather chair, one of many that encircled a round table the size of a small house.

  I ran, unable to peel my eyes away from him as others stood. Clean shaven, his hair spiked up a little—similar to the first time I’d seen him—wearing light blue jeans and a white T-shirt. I stopped before I touched him, realizing how many people were watching us. He kept coming, grabbed me up in a hug and squeezed until I thought he’d break me in two. I gave up, pressing my face against his chest and inhaling his scent until his essence drowned out everything else. Trembling, he grabbed my face and crushed his lips against mine.

  Our Light flared, permeating me to my marrow. I opened myself to him, relished in the softness of his lips, the skill of his probing tongue.

  When he finally released me, I found Nix standing beside us. The sight of him brought my thoughts back to reality. I put a hand on Liam’s cheek.

  “I missed you,” he said through our link.

  “I missed you too. I admit it, but I’m not into public displays, and we kind of have a big problem right now.”

  I wondered if Liam put on that little display for Nix’s benefit, but I shoved it aside. Message now, petty concerns later.

  “What’s the message?” I asked Gallagher. My voice echoed back to me from the ceiling.

  Neasa approached. Her mouth hung open, I assumed upon examination of my outfit.

  Garret sat huddled beside a stone fir
eplace beyond the table. He shot me a glare, and the corners of his mouth dropped into a frown. After kicking the nearest chair hard enough it slammed against the table, he folded his arms over his chest and scowled.

  Gallagher stood and walked directly to me as if his clouded eyes could truly see me. Expression grim, jaw flexed, he reached a hand out and touched my arm. Instinct forced me back a step, and he didn’t pursue. I liked him better all the time.

  “I think it would be best if the boy leaves before we begin.” Gallagher stared at me in a way that made my spine itch.

  “He lost his father getting me here, Gallagher. He has as much right to hear this as I do.”

  The white-haired fae glanced at my brother. After stuffing his hands into his pockets, he edged closer. “It’s out of kindness for the boy that I say this. This concerns his father, and his emotional stake in this matter will not help us come to a decision about what is to be done. We have a hard choice to make, and the outcome will undoubtedly have a profound effect on Garret.”

  My knees wanted to give out on me, but I held them stiff and concentrated on breathing. I came close to blurting out that he was my father, too, but I kept my wits about me long enough to remember why I shouldn’t.

  Liam must have heard and slipped his hand into mine. I squeezed it while the colors of the room paled. The edge of consciousness frayed and threatened to send me into the abyss.

  “I think Gallagher’s right,” Liam said. “I can talk to Garret if you want.”

  I shook my head, my chaotic thoughts locking the words in my throat.

  “Where did you get those ghastly clothes?” Neasa sat down on a heavy wooden chair nearby and clasped her hands in her lap. Brígh, who stood beside her, shrugged.

  “Not now, Neasa.” I pondered what to tell Garret that wouldn’t upset him any more than he already was.

  “Why do you touch this one—” Neasa flicked a finger at Liam. “—but refuse the touch of your own people?” Her eyes challenged me.

  I stared at Liam, who seemed to know what I wanted. He closed his eyes and our link opened a moment later.