Glimmer

by Vivi Anna

  “N’lina,” it tittered, its voice like a tiny clear bell. “Beware.”

  “Beware of what?”

  “The water.”

  I glanced past the gladfly to the brook. Nothing menacing appeared in its shallow depths. “Nothing is there.”

  “Something is always in the water,” it trilled again then flitted off my hand to dance away with the others along the stream’s edge.

  Curious, I leaned forward and peered into the clear water that was only a foot deep. Even in the dark, I could see the rocks that lined the bed. Nothing looked like it could harm me.

  But as I watched, the rocks and pebbles jiggled and jumped, coming together to form a shape. I peered harder and spotted a face. The face of my mother. And she was sneering, her face twisted with cruelty.

  “N’lina,” she shrieked, “Stay still!” Then her hands, made of flesh and bone, burst from the water, grabbed my head and pulled me under.

  I thrashed about, struggling to pull away from her hold. But she was unnaturally strong and the water somehow grew deep and bitter cold, siphoning the heat from my body. Water filled my mouth and nose as she forced my face under. The action was as if she sat on my back and pushed on the back of my head.

  I tried to push up with my hands but the rocks beneath me offered no leverage. They were slippery with algae and I couldn’t get a solid hold. More water filled my mouth, and I could do nothing but swallow it. My lungs quickly filled, replacing the oxygen I needed to breathe.

  Desperate for air, my chest burned. I thrashed about but my energy drained. My mind grew dark. Not long before Death claimed me for its own. With one last desperate effort, I bowed my back, trying to force away my mother. But the pressure and the pain were too immense.

  I screamed, my voice gurgling in my throat, knowing it would be my last…

  “Nina.” I heard my father’s voice. He sounded panicked and distressed.

  Surprised I could still move my limbs, I reached for him in the darkened waters. I was even more surprised to feel his fingers curl around mine.

  “Nina.” His voice was clearer, right next to my ear. His visage floated to me on a ripple. “You’ll be okay. Do as your mother says. Don’t fight it.”

  I groaned. “No, Da. She’s killing me.”

  Cool fingers brushed my face. “Let go, darling. Let go.”

  I squeezed my eyes tight, afraid to let go. I’d worked my whole life to establish control over things—my job, my love life, my body—it wasn’t easy to relinquish that, especially to someone I hated with all my heart.

  Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw my father kneeling next to me, his face pale, his eyes filled with tears.

  “Da?” Confused, I looked past him and saw that I was in my bedroom, face down on the bed. Moonlight streamed in through the open window. A warm breeze ripples across my skin, making my shiver.

  Movement jostled the bed. I turned my head to see my mother, her face drawn, her eyes dark and determine, sitting cross-legged beside me, her hands resting on my bare back.

  “Don’t touch me,” I hissed, trying to move away.

  She held me firm. “Don’t fight, N’lina. It’s more painful when you do.”

  “My name is Nina.”

  She gave me a sympathetic smile and ran a hand down my back. “Relax and let them come through.”

  I was about to demand what “they” were, but the rippling of the skin between my shoulder blades reminded me I didn’t need to ask. With absolute certainty, I knew what was coming. What was trying to rip and tear out of my flesh and skin.

  Just to spite her, I wanted to fight it, but I was beyond exhaustion from the constant agony in my back. So, I shut my eyes and took in several deep breaths, letting them out slowly.

  “That’s it. Relax.”

  I breathed in. Then out. In then out. As I did, the pain receded a little. Enough that my skin didn’t feel like it was going to crack open like a burnt hot dog.

  “Is she going to be all right?” my father asked.

  “Yes, but could you get us some warm wet towels, Jason. The transformation will get messy soon enough.”

  That statement made me open my eyes. I glared at my mother. “Why are you here?”

  “Because you need me.”

  “Where were you when I was twelve and got my period in the middle of math class? Where were you when I lost my virginity to Josh Logan when he told he loved me and then never called me again? Where the fuck were you then, huh, Mother?”

  She met my gaze, and the glare was cold. “You didn’t need me then, Nina. Not really. You had your father. He’s always been there for you. Besides, you’re so much stronger than you realize.”

  I struggled to my elbows. “If you tell me that you abandoned me for my own good, and all that has made me a better person, a stronger one, I will drag you out to the pond in the back and drown you.”

  She flinched at that, but didn’t respond. “But tonight…tonight, I’m the only one that can see you through this.”

  As if to punctuate her words, a spasm in my back hit me so hard that I nearly shot off the bed. Would have if she hadn’t been holding me down.

  She ran a hand over my shoulder blades and between them. “When the pain comes again, don’t move. It’s almost there. Your skin is thin enough now. They will break through.”

  Bile rose in my throat. I was going to vomit. But I didn’t get a chance before searing pain shot through me. The flesh under my skin rippled. It took everything I had to lay still and let it happen.

  I twisted my hand in the sheets. Sweat popped out on my forehead, to drip down my temples. As another wave of agony surged over me, I bit down on my lip. The tang of blood filled my mouth. Salty and metallic, it reminded me of what was happening inside of my body. The blood would be flowing soon.

  Another wave came. And another. Until my skin undulated and bubbled, as if some kind of creature existed just below the surface. And I suppose that was basically true.

  My back was now a plane of movement and pain. I could feel my skin begin to stretch and tear, as something pushed through. Sweat stung my eyes and I dug my fingers and toes into the mattress. Tears gushed down my cheeks. Actions were involuntary now. My body was doing whatever it could to combat the pure dark torture that assaulted it.

  “They’re coming, Nina.”

  I could barely hear her voice over my own groans and pitiful mewls and the heavy panting I was doing.

  It didn’t matter anyway. She didn’t need to tell me they were coming because I could feel them rupturing my flesh, splitting my skin in two. The sound of severing sinew and tissue assailed my ears.

  And I screamed…

  There was a final liquid sound then a rush of blood cascaded down my sides to soak the bed sheets and mattress beneath. The pain diminished. Then it was done.

  “Jason, the towels.”

  I felt the sweet relief of warm wet cloth as my mother and my father wiped away the residual evidence of my transformation.

  Barely able to move, I strained to lift my head and glanced back over my shoulder and saw what had been causing me so much pain and anguish. So much trepidation and horror.

  My fae wings. My crowning glory.

  They weren’t as large as I thought they’d be. About three feet long and one foot in width, they were almost dainty in size. Beams of moonlight played over them, making the purple and blue shimmer like disco glitter. The gossamer veined with silver membranes was nearly transparent—like wearing a pair of fragile stained-glass panes on my back.

  Tears rolled down my mother’s flushed cheeks. “So beautiful. So perfect. They are just like mine.” She smiled, looking at me with a pride I’d longed for my whole life.

  Except I felt no pride. Looking at the protrusions on my back, I felt only revulsion and shame. “Da, get the hacksaw and cut these things off.”

  My mother gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.

  Her look of abject horror nearly made me laugh.

&nbs
p; “Do you hate what you are that much?”

  I wanted to say yes, but the truth was I only hated the fae parts I got from her. The rest, well, I loved and cherished.

  As if realizing my thoughts, she said, “Do you hate me that much, Nina, that you would disfigure yourself, cause yourself that much more pain just to spite me?”

  I didn’t answer her, but looked away, resting my head back onto the mattress, and sighed. I refused to feel the guilt that bubbled inside me like acid. “How do I hide them?”

  She gave me a little nod. “I will teach you, but first, you should sleep. Your body needs the rest.”

  I didn’t argue, but closed my eyes and let sleep take me away. At least for a little while, I wouldn’t have to think about how to keep a pair of faery wings from friends and the people I worked with. I wouldn’t have to think about how to hide from an entire society that feared the unknown.

  ***

  Chapter 13

  When I woke, I was in the same position I’d been when I went to sleep—on my stomach in my bed, a pair of wings protruding grotesquely from between my shoulder blades.

  Groaning, I pushed up to sit on the edge of the bed, my pounding head in my hands. The aching felt like I’d been on a week-long bender. I glanced behind me at the bed and winced. The sight was like a slumber party massacre had taken place. I would have to replace the mattress for sure. That much blood didn’t scrub out with any type of cleaner or manual labor.

  I stood to get dressed but realized I had no clue how to get a shirt over my newly acquired appendages. Instead, I walked to the full-length mirror I had in the corner to inspect my new look.

  From the front, the wings rose about two feet over my shoulders. I turned to the side and studied them. As wings went, they were delicate and pretty. But not something I was overjoyed to be shackled with. How the hell was I going to do anything with them in the way? My whole life I’d been trying to hide my alienness but these, these things just popped up and proclaimed, “Hey, I’m not totally human.”

  “They essentially disappear when you glamour them.”

  I whipped around to see my mother framed in the doorway. My hands rose to cover my boobs. “Jesus, don’t you knock?”

  “Apparently not.” She came all the way in, and handed me a tea cup.

  I looked in at the thick pea green concoction swirling around. The brew smelled worse than it looked. “What is it?”

  “Glamour. Drink it and your wings will vanish from sight.”

  “Will I still feel them?”

  She nodded. “Physically, you’ll know they are there. But no one else will be able to see or feel them.”

  Wrinkling my nose at the horrid stench, I put the cup to my mouth and drained the liquid in one healthy swallow. My stomach lurched at the foreign intrusion. The drink tasted even worse than it smelled.

  Astonished, I watched in the mirror as my wings slowly turned invisible. I moved side to side, from front to side. They were gone from view, although I could totally “feel” them poking out of my back. I reached over my shoulder and brushed my hand through the space they should’ve occupied. Nothing.

  My mother tossed me a tank top.

  I pulled it over my head and pushed my arms through. It went on unhindered.

  “I’ll show you how to make the tincture. You’ll need to grow the Anise in your garden. The moonflowers and fir needles are already flourishing. And the rest you’ll have to bargain for.”

  “Bargain with whom?”

  “Nightfall.”

  “That’s just perfect.” I groaned, and rubbed my chin. “How long does it last?”

  “Twenty-four hours.”

  I stared. “That’s it? I’m going to have to drink this shit every day for the rest of my life?”

  “Yes, if you want to keep the illusion that you’re human.”

  “I am human.” I tossed the words at her, as I brushed past to head downstairs.

  She followed me. “But you’re not, darling. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better off you’ll be. Maybe you’ll actually find happiness in your life.”

  “Stop calling me darling. You gave up that right years ago.” I stomped off the last step then marched down the hall to the kitchen. She was right behind me. “And I am happy.”

  She ignored that, and said, “Fine. I deserve that but what we need to really talk about is Severin Saint Morgan and why he was here last night.”

  “No, we really don’t.” I opened the fridge and took out the milk. My body desperately needed food. I took down the box of cereal and poured some in a bowl, adding the milk.

  “How well do you know him?”

  I looked at her as I shoveled cereal into my mouth. “You acted as if you knew him.”

  “I do.”

  I set the bowl down, not trusting my hands to hold it still. “How?”

  “He’s not who you think he is, Nina. He’s dangerous to you.” She waved her hand around the room. “He’s dangerous to us all.”

  “And when you say us, you mean?”

  “The fae.”

  I scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. Doesn’t even make any sense. He’s a werewolf; he’s like what, thirty-five years old at best. The fae are thousands of years old. And you, you’re, I don’t even know how old you really are.” Having lost my appetite, I dumped the cereal down the garbage disposal in the sink.

  “I’m over two hundred years old.”

  I glanced her way, not really that surprised. “Figures.”

  “I should’ve told you our histories years ago. There is so much you don’t know, that you need to know. Especially now.”

  Sighing, I looked up and out the small kitchen window. Movement outside caught my attention. “What’s Da doing?”

  “Fixing the garden. It was in a terrible mess.”

  “The mess was to keep you people out.” I walked around her to go out the patio doors to the backyard. “Da! Don’t dig out the pond.”

  The second I reached his side, I knew I was too late. The slight rippling of the water in the circular pond taunted me. Even the frog was back, roosting on his rock perch and staring upward.

  “Damn it, Da. Now they can come through. Don’t you remember the little pixie bugger that tried to kill you?”

  He wiped at the dirt on his sunk-in cheek. “You worry too much. We’re safe now.”

  “Why, because she’s here?” I flung my hand toward my mother who stood watching nearby. “She’s the reason for everything.”

  “I did not send that pixie, or any assassin.”

  “Who did then? You must know.”

  She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter now. I have made sure that you and your father are safe.”

  I glared at this woman I’d despised for so long. “Excuse me, if that doesn’t really make me feel any better. You’ve been absent most of my life, so I’m pretty sure you don’t have my best interests at heart.”

  Her features fell. A wounded look clouded her usually bright eyes. “Oh darling, if only you knew the truth.”

  “Save your words. I probably wouldn’t believe it, even if you told me.”

  My father put a hand on my shoulder. “You’re so stubborn, Nina. If only you would listen for a moment, you’d realize how unselfish your mother has truly been.”

  That made me gape. “Unselfish? Are you serious? Oh Da, not only has she taken your soul, she’s taken your mind as well.”

  He snatched back his hand, his face twisting in anguish.

  Guilt stabbed me hard in the chest. I reached for him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  He shuffled out of my reach and went to stand by my mother. She put an arm around him. The perfect defense against an insolent daughter.

  “You have no idea what I’ve given up for you, Nina. What I’ve suffered just to love your father, just to give birth to you. Some in the community wanted me to abort you.” She shook her head. “You’re so hard, so jaded. Your attitude is probably my fault, but it br
eaks me to see you this way.”

  Her words had an effect. I didn’t want them to matter, but they did. Had I built such a granite wall around my heart, around my mind, that I had no care when others suffered? Had my hatred for my mother ruined any chance for me to really feel?

  “Has Severin already corrupted you?”

  Again, she brought the conversation back to him. I frowned. “What has he got to do with any of this?”

  She reached for my hand.

  I let her touch me, confusion and guilt diminishing my usual stoniness.

  “He’s using you. He knows who you truly are, and he wants to use it for his own gain, for his pack.”

  I wanted to deny it, to scream in outrage but something caught in my mind. A kernel of truth was in there somewhere. I thought maybe I had always known something nefarious existed with Severin and the too-convenient way we’d met.

  “Werewolves can see the fae,” I offered as an excuse as to why he knew who I was. “He told me that.”

  “Yes. The werewolves and fae have learned to identity each other over the past three thousand years. A good practice is to truly know your enemies.”

  The blood drained from my face. Three thousand years? Could it be possible? “Enemies? You’re telling me that werewolves and the fae are at war or something?”

  She nodded, her look was fierce, determined to make herself understood. “For over a thousand years, our two races have been at war. As of late, a truce had been signed, but that was two hundred years ago, and the terms are fraying at the edges. The werewolves are planning something.” She squeezed my hand. “And you, my daughter, are in the middle.”

  I pulled away and paced the garden, my bare feet sifting through the warm soil. My heart thundered and I was having difficulty breathing. This was all too much to take in. First, I sprouted wings, now I was supposedly in the middle of a supernatural war between two races. If I didn’t know better, if I hadn’t seen the things I had crawling out of my pond, I would’ve said this was all a bunch of crap. But I did know better. I was a member of one of those races, whether I liked it or not.

  But even after all that, the situation seemed much too convenient to have happening all at once. And much too convenient that my mother was telling me all of this now. I whirled and pointed. “Why are you really here?”