by Kate Sparkes
“You’re sure you want to leave? Pull-toys and gaudy blankets are a lot to leave behind.” His joking tone sounded forced and hard.
I left the food on the sideboard and went to him. “They’re not what I’m sorry to be leaving.”
His hands flexed at his sides as he looked up to take in the bare-beamed rafters overhead. “The plan seems too risky. You’re safe here, now. Even Jaid is softening.”
“Only because I’m going,” I noted. “I don’t think she’d be too happy about this.”
“Good thing neither of us answers to her.”
“Good thing.” The food was getting cold, but I’d lost my appetite for it. “Everyone must be happy that this will all be over soon. That Verelle will get what she deserves.”
Zinian’s shoulders slumped. “Not so long ago, that thought would have thrilled me.”
I stepped closer. “What thrills you now?”
He smiled slightly, revealing the barest hint of fangs. “You. The way we kissed in the cave. The fact that we’re here together, and actually alone this time.”
My cheeks warmed. I knew what I wanted. What would thrill me. I knew it was risky, that it would make leaving that much harder. Relationships with no future had never figured into my plans.
I didn’t care. I needed to be reckless this once, to be brave and take something I wanted just because it felt right in the moment, never mind the consequences.
I traced the line of his jaw and trailed my fingers slowly over his throat and his chest, down the hard lines of his stomach. My body responded to the sight and smell of him, and the shirt I wore did nothing to hide it. He smiled slowly as he watched me, taking every detail in, as seemed to be his way.
I would miss being looked at like that.
Zinian shivered, but his voice when he spoke was thick and warm. “I really think we should skip supper.”
He leaned in and kissed me far more gently than he had in the cave, lips barely brushing mine. I lifted myself onto my toes to get closer and placed my hands on his shoulders.
“I wish we had more time,” he whispered, and kissed behind my ear. “I want to take this slowly enough to drive you insane.”
I drew in a quick breath as he untucked my billowy blouse and explored the bare flesh beneath, trailing his claws over my back and my stomach, using the pad of his thumb to press gently against one nipple as he cupped my breast, moving slowly and with perfect control.
I gasped. “You are a monster, aren’t you?”
“I did warn you.”
He tried to pull the blouse over my head, but I stopped him. “Hang on. You first.”
“Go ahead, then.” He waited, hands hanging at his sides, the barest hint of a smile daring me to do as I wished.
I reached for the laces on his pants as though stripping a monster bare was the most natural thing in the world, loosened the strings, and eased them down over his finely shaped backside.
“Well?”
I nearly laughed with relief, but sensed that wouldn’t go over well. “Impressive. Perfect. Is it all right for me to say I’m glad your human parent contributed that part?”
He chuckled. “Absolutely. Your turn, now.”
I looked him over, wings to horns to claws, and hesitated.
“What?” he asked.
“I just… I won’t be too human for you?”
He grabbed the hem of my shirt again. I lifted my arms over my head and closed my eyes. Though the air in the apartment was warm, a chill came over me as it caressed my skin. My skirt slipped easily over my hips and hit the floor.
I reminded myself that he wanted me as I was, that he would have thought razors and makeup and fancy underwear were ridiculous. Here, I just had to be me. But would it be enough?
“Hazel. Look at me.”
I opened my eyes. He’d ducked his head down, placing his face before mine. My chest tightened and then seemed to liquefy as our eyes met.
“You are human. And you are beautiful. You are yourself, and all I want.” His gaze travelled appreciatively over my body. “And you should never wear clothes.”
I laughed, and he pulled me into a deep kiss. It seemed impossible that he should want me as badly as I wanted him. In that moment I thought I might be swept away on the waves of my own desire as they burned through my body.
Damn plans. Damn consequences.
I fell back on the bed and pulled him down with me. His wings spread as though to slow the fall, and remained flexed as he bent to trail kisses down my throat and over my chest. Every brush of his lips and tongue sent shudders through me, and the faint scratch of his teeth on my breast was nearly enough to push me over the edge. I grabbed his hair and pulled his face to mine. His teeth grazed my tongue, drawing blood, and I pulled him closer.
He propped himself up on one elbow and brushed my hair away from my face. Our eyes met, and my heart stilled.
I don’t love him, I told myself. I can’t. It’s too soon. And yet the connection we shared felt deeper and wilder and more exciting than anything I’d known before. More promising.
I’d had to step into a fairy tale to find something real.
His claws trailed over my thighs, and I opened them to him. He touched me without scratching, again using the pads of his fingers, only teasing with his claws.
“Shit,” I gasped.
He laughed, then caught something in my expression that made him pause. “What?”
“I just…” He didn’t stop touching me as I spoke, and it made it hard to find the words. “I’m scared of falling for you more than I already have.”
His smile returned, gentle and somehow devilish at the same time. He leaned in and kissed my throat.
“I don’t want you to fall,” he whispered as he rolled on top of me, teasing with gentle pressure. “I want you to fly.”
I didn’t let myself think about losing him, about never finding this again. Instead I lost myself in his eyes, in his body, in the relentless thundering of our hearts and the sound of his breath in my ear as we moved together.
I lost control. And for once, I didn’t mind.
* * *
The sun shone far too brightly the next morning, and the birds flittering outside the window mocked me with their brilliant plumage and cheerful songs.
Zinian and I lay silent, facing each other, covers thrown aside. We’d run out of words and energy hours before, but I hadn’t slept much. As the beginnings of faint sunlight breached the dark of our private space, I’d begun memorizing the lines of his face and his body.
Remembering would hurt, but forgetting would mean going back to sleep after something new had been awakened in me. I didn’t want to forget the way my chest ached when I looked into his eyes, the way other parts of me stirred when he smiled at me. I’d always thought the idea that a person could fall in love so quickly was ridiculous. I’d certainly taken my cautious time about it before. But I suspected I’d found something in Zinian that defied logic or plans. A kindred soul of sorts. One who made me feel brave, who understood my wounds, who would accept my shadows along with my bright spots, just as I would his.
The people of my world would never understand what I’d sacrificed for them.
I touched my cold feet to the warm scales of his lower legs, and he trailed a long talon over my ankle. His gentleness had come as a shock to me. Though he kissed forcefully, and he’d excited me with the threat of the physical power of his body, he’d put my pleasure before his and accommodated my weaker human form all night as though he couldn’t have wished for anything else.
If my mattress had suffered at the mercy of his claws when he lost control, it was no great loss.
I wanted more. Wanted to know what else he was capable of. Wanted to know what he would be like if we had time to play, time to tease. What it would be like to let ourselves go without fear of ruining the only night we’d ever have together.
And yet… And yet it had been perfect.
Zinian pulled me closer. I
tucked my head under his chin and breathed in the scent of his skin, wild and indescribably exciting. I wondered whether he carried the essences of every creature that had gone into making him.
He rolled me onto my back and slipped lower to nuzzle under my chin, nipping gently at the soft skin of my throat. “We could just stay here,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, as though he was afraid to break the spell we’d woven together in our silence.
“Sure. No one would notice if I didn’t show up.” I lifted his face and pulled him in to kiss my lips.
For the last time.
No. There’s time. We still—
A heavy fist pounded on the door in a familiar non-rhythm.
“Auphel,” we said together. My insides fluttered in panic, and I fought the urge to hide under the bed.
I knew what I had to do. It was the right thing, the brave thing. And the absolute last thing I wanted.
I didn’t let myself think of home in anything but the vaguest rose-tinted tones as Zinian and I dressed. My polka-dot pyjama pants were long gone, but I had pants and a shirt that would only look a little out of place until I found something else.
Zinian let Auphel in, and she ducked her head down to pass under the arched doorway. She sat on the floor. “Ready?” she asked.
“No.”
They both looked at me, and tears prickled my eyes. “I’ll never be ready, though. And I’ll never have the right words to thank either of you for what you’ve done for me. I’ve never had friends like you. I’d take you over any of my own species if I had the choice.”
“Then stay,” Auphel said softly. Her own eyes were wet.
“I can’t.” I found Verelle’s old book on the shelf. “I have to go, because this is what’s got into my world. It’s poison, isn’t it? She’s poison, even if she doesn’t have her magic.”
“Could you come back after she’s dead?” Auphel asked. Zinian looked from her to me, eyebrows raised, a wild hope in his eyes that broke my heart.
“I’ll try. I don’t know anything about magic or how this works, but I will try. And if I can’t, I’ll never forget you.” The lump in my throat choked off any more words, and when Auphel opened her arms, I got mine as far around her as I could and squeezed tight. “I love you, friend. Maybe that’s a silly human thing to say, but I do.”
“I’ll remember you, too,” she said, and released me. She thumped me affectionately on the shoulder, then sighed. “We should go. General Grys said I could come get you as long as we didn’t take too long. I’d hate to make him mad at me again.”
The streets were still quiet as we made our way to the palace. I drank everything in, from the cobblestone streets and pale grey walls of the buildings to the rich scents that rose from the bakery, run by a two-headed creature who made the most amazing treats when he got along with himself well enough to decide what to bake. A baby cried inside one of the little cottages that had once housed humans and were now home to the creatures whose labours had kept the human world alive and thriving for so many years.
The violence of my first days in the city had faded in my memory. I hoped that Auphel’s keeping of the library would be a small step toward making sure that baby would never have to fight for her freedom. Maybe the monsters could keep from repeating the past, as humans seemed doomed to do forever. And maybe they could stay ready to protect themselves from another Verelle, should one ever arise.
Auphel led us to the dungeons. I shivered against the sudden chill in the air, but didn’t step closer to her or Zinian for warmth. This was all business now. We’d had our goodbyes. It was time to let go.
Grys was waiting. So was Jaid, and the scholar Eriel. Jaid approached, tail curved into a question-mark shape behind one shoulder. It was the first time it hadn’t lashed in irritation when she’d seen me. A small change, but a positive one. “Are you ready?”
“I think so,” I lied.
She handed me the key, which felt heavier in my hand than I remembered. “Eriel will explain everything,” Jaid said quietly. “I just wanted to say thank you.”
I looked up into her citrine eyes. The slitted pupils were wide in the dark of the dungeon, giving her a sweeter look than I was accustomed to. “Um… you’re welcome,” I stammered.
“Are you glad to be going home?”
“No.”
She nodded. “Duty, right? I understand that well.” She shook my hand. “I’m almost sorry to see you go. You seem unlike the humans here, and… well, I may have misjudged you. Perhaps you staying wouldn’t have been as terrible as I thought.”
“Thank you. I think I’d have liked to have known you better.” And it was true. Jaid had her scars just as Zinian had his, and they’d made her hate humans more vehemently than he did. But she could look past my physical form, as I could look past hers. I didn’t think we’d ever have been friends, but we could have learned from each other.
Jaid stepped closer to Zinian and laid a hand on his shoulder. She leaned in close enough for her whiskers to tickle his face and whispered something to him. He winced, then nodded, and she let her hand fall.
Eriel took a shuffling step toward me. Her hooves made hollow clopping sounds on the stone floor.
“This is it,” she said. “This door is imbued with new magic. All you need to do is unlock it and step through, and you’ll be home. We don’t know whether the doors work more than once, so try not to hesitate.”
“I won’t.”
Grys snapped his fingers, and a group of twenty armed soldiers clattered around the corner. One carried Zinian’s sword, another Auphel’s axe. They would be ready for Verelle.
“We have soldiers waiting at the spot where she disappeared?” Zinian asked.
“We have. And a few other likely locations. We’re ready.”
Zinian’s long fingers closed tight around the sword’s grip, then relaxed into an easy and familiar hold. He looked at me, questioning. I nodded, and didn’t try to say anything.
I wanted him to have his victory and his freedom as much as I wanted to see my world safe. He deserved that.
“Anything else?” I asked.
Eriel shook her heavy head. “I wish you well. May you find that everything in your world is as it should be, as we hope it will soon be in ours.”
“Thanks.”
My heart hammered as I stepped closer to the door. The key tingled in my hand.
I straightened my bag on my shoulder and felt the weight of the book and the tiny centaur-shaped pull-toy I’d decided at the last moment to take from my apartment.
I was too scared now to feel sad. At least that was something.
I slipped the key into the lock and turned it. The lock opened easily, almost eagerly, with a dull clunk that made my breath catch. I pulled the door open and held the key tight in my hand. If I was ever going to get back to Elurien, I’d need it.
Looking back hadn’t been part of my plan, but I did. Auphel, Zinian, and Jaid stood together, ready to face the enemy they hoped would replace me. But the monsters’ eyes weren’t filled with rage and hate as they’d been the last time I’d seen them standing like this. Now it was sadness I saw there, and regret, and grim determination.
Zinian nodded gently. I turned to the door, gripped my bag tight, and stepped into the familiar darkness.
Chapter Fourteen
I fell longer and farther than I remembered falling before, and hit a hard surface with a thud. It cracked beneath me, and I slipped sideways. I’d had my eyes closed, but they snapped open as I scrambled to save myself. I grabbed onto a broken-off beam that stuck straight up beside my head.
The view was familiar, and yet not. The landscape of the island opened up around and below me, with no walls blocking the view. But there were no observation towers at this end of the island.
“Oh. Shit.”
I was at the inn—or what was left of it. In fact, I seemed to have returned to the attic and then fallen another level down because there was no floor to support me.
I was kneeling precariously on a cracked and tilted section of the boards that had run beneath the old carpets on the third floor. There was nothing around me. No staircase, no hall to follow. The upper levels of the inn, including the attic and the mysterious door, had been destroyed.
The town beyond didn’t look like it was faring much better. Though landmark buildings still stood, several houses were in as rough shape as the inn was. I couldn’t see more than that, but didn’t have much hope that the damage was caused by some kind of freak storm.
No magic here, my ass. At least she was gone now. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to answer questions about what had happened, and that Verelle was now being properly taken care of in Elurien. She deserved whatever she got.
I leaned out to see whether there were handholds I could use to get down to the second floor, and the beam I was holding snapped. I was too startled to scream as I plunged down, and barely had time to tuck my head close to my chest to try to protect myself before I hit the next floor hard. Bright and burning pain shot up from my right ankle, which had landed first and twisted beneath me.
I cried out at the pain and released a string of curses, then breathed deep to calm my nerves.
At least I’m down.
I reached for my bag, which lay a metre away on the filthy hallway carpet. There were few walls standing on this level, but at least the floor looked mostly solid. I’d be able to make my way to the staircase if I was careful.
I gasped. The key. It had been in my hand, but I didn’t have it anymore, and couldn’t see where I’d dropped it.
There. The key rested at the edge of a massive gap in the floor of what had been one of the inn’s nicer bedrooms. Exposed pipes and wires stuck out from the hole.
I tried to stand, and my ankle buckled. I crawled toward the key.
The attic door was gone, but as long as I had the key, I had hope of returning. There’s always a door. The scholars said so. My mouth went dry as I crept over the carpet, which was damp and slimy from exposure to the elements. I clenched my jaw and tested the floor ahead of me before each movement that took me closer to the key.