by Eli Constant
The tongued appendage has not cut through my panties yet. It is stroking my inner thigh, creeping towards and away from the edge of the cotton underwear. Blackthorn wants me to understand fully what is going to happen. I hope, when he enters me, that I am dead or unconscious. Even if I survive, this moment will not allow me to live as I once did.
Safe now. His answer brings me such relief that I nearly believe that dying is fine now. I could not save Lilly, but the distraction of my death has saved the others. That is enough. Almost enough.
Thank you, Liam. It almost sounds like I am saying goodbye to him. The tongue working at my body, playing against my most private parts, seems to grow impatient. It begins to push itself beneath the panties. The appendage attached to my back, sucking and siphoning and keeping me from moving, grows more frantic. It is as if Blackthorn’s body needs my death to fully enjoy sex.
Find the power, Victoria. You cannot die. You cannot.
Blackthorn’s gaze is directed at the ceiling, his face one of ecstasy as his body has its way with me. I gasp as the tongue of what can only be his sexual organ finds the way to its goal. I can feel the sharpness of it give way to something gentler. Yet it is still something that causes me pain as the thin length of it pushes into my unready, unwilling body. The rest of the appendage is so much thicker, thicker than any human man. It will tear me.
This is rape. Rape by a fairy. I fight back the haziness. I concentrate on what is happening. I find it within myself to fight, just a little longer. Just one more try to stay alive.
I jerk as hard as I can with my upper body and because Blackthorn is distracted, because he thinks I have given in to the business of dying, I am dislodged from his hold and fall to the ground. Two screams of anger rip through the warehouse- one from Blackthorn’s mouth and the other from the length of hardness that has been denied my body. It had only gotten a taste.
A taste was fucking enough.
The impact of concrete against my already-damaged body took my breath away and I cry in agony as the appendage that has been clawed into my back yanks away, taking bits of flesh with it.
Now that I am free though, Liam rushes forward. He is like a laser moving through a dark sky. Fast and brilliant. His pale skin and gleaming hair catch moonlight and send images dancing through the dimness.
He is a white fire, flames reaching for Blackthorn.
I focus on the dark fairy. I find the sharp-ended, thick tendril that has left the bleeding wound in my back. It resembles an octopus arm, tipped in barbs, writhing from his back like some other-brained thing. The appendage is connected higher on his back than his sexual organ is on the front. It is still dripping with my blood, that secondary limb that marks him male.
I look at the thorny octopus arm again. My eyes grow narrow. My blood. It is covered in my blood.
I do not think I can heal my body fast enough to be of any physical help to Liam, but I can help him with my gift. Fear no longer controls me. I am once again the woman who’d faced my half-brother with confidence, or at least the façade of it.
My power reaches for the blood that covers the barbs. It speaks to me. It allows me to compel it upwards to run a backwards, gravity-defying river against the line of the appendage. The skin of it is yielding and damp, like wet rubber.
When I find where the appendage meets his stomach, I begin to push. I force the blood cells through his pores, beneath the skin, into his stomach, his spleen, his liver. I push myself into every organ within his body.
And then I cause the cells to consume, to ingest, to expand.
Liam continues to dance around Blackthorn, slashing him with what can only be described as a sword of light. The wounds are at once inflicted and cauterized. Each contact of the sword against Blackthorn’s body pulls a scream from his lips.
Liam is doing his job and I do mine.
The cells are large now, so large that they cannot accept anymore of Blackthorn into them.
And then, one by bloody one, I cause them to burst. Over-pressured pipes within his body.
Looking from the outside, one could not tell the chaos and damage happening within the dark fae’s body. The only indication was the streams of blood trickling from his nose, ears, and eyes.
When Blackthorn falls forward, his face crunching against the unyielding ground, Liam stills his movement. He stares at Blackthorn. We both do. The change that made him the monstrous land-bound shark reverses until he looks human again. That’s good. Easier to explain. When the transformation is complete, Liam races to my side and kneels.
“My queen, you’re hurt,” his eyes rove my body, assessing the damage. Again, I can feel worry for me like warmth radiating from a space heater. Now, I can enjoy how much that means to me.
“I’ll live, Liam. Thanks to you. And please, stop calling me your queen. It freaks me out.” I keep opening and closing my eyes, trying to stay awake. I know I will soon fail and sleep will take me.
He quirks an eyebrow at me and then smiles. “Victoria,” he says my name softly. A prayer let loose into the empty space around us. He leans in then, as if to kiss me. The smile dies as police sirens come to life in the distance. “I see the girls have been successful.”
“What do you mean?”
“I got them out and told them to call the police.”
“You sent them out alone? There’s nothing for miles. There’s no way they could have found a phone.”
He holds up a hand. “My quee—”
I give him the fuzzy eye, but then gasp as a shooting pain grips my heart. The jerk I make in response sends spasms to wrack my back, which is still bloody and shredded. “Fuck.” I hold both hands over my chest and I allow myself to lay down against the floor. “That hurt.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry; just tell me what kind of idiot would send four scared girls out into the dark to find a phone.”
“Victoria, I may be fae, but I also live in the modern world. Do you not think we too enjoy some forms of technology? It was my people, after all, who have made a number of your ‘human’ breakthroughs.”
“You have a cell phone.” I mutter. “Why couldn’t you just say that?”
Liam rocks back on his heels, his face amused. “You are the most exasperating woman I’ve ever met.”
“Is that any way to talk to your queen?” I tease, whilst simultaneously wincing in pain and fighting the need to black out.
He stares at me, slack-jawed. “I’m so sorry. You just told me to not call you—”
I wink at him and he moves from kneeling to sit on his ass against the cool concrete. “You are not going to make my job easy, are you?”
“The job of protecting me?” I pretend to think for a moment. “No, probably not.”
The sirens are getting closer. I wonder where the girls are now. Hazy. Foggy. Can’t I go to sleep now?
“They were supposed to hide in your vehicle until the cops arrived,” he says, reading my mind. I might have cared at one time, him invading my thoughts. But now, I am grateful for it.
“The Bronco?”
“Yes, I might have borrowed it again,” he has the good manners too look admonished.
I nod. “Liam, you have my full permission to borrow my car anytime I need my ass saved.” I swipe a hair out of my face and wonder what I look like- injured and lying against the concrete covered in blood. There’s nothing I can do about those things, but I can make myself look more human before Terrance and the crew arrive.
Closing my eyes, I force the change. It is hard. I don’t think I can manage it with how weak I am. But I do. And it is like someone has dimmed the lights. Just one more ounce of effort and I will be lost to the world. I need to be lost. Everything is pain. Light. Shadows. And pain.
“I prefer this for some reason. I’m not sure why. It is not what the fae consider beautiful,” Liam says. He absentmindedly picks up a bit of my hair and then lets it fall in a fan of mahogany towards the ground.
“Ho
nestly, the other is growing on me.” I reply, trying to sit up.
Liam has to help me, and when his arms wrap around me to support my weight, I feel the familiar rush of heat through my body. We look at each other for a moment in silence. So many things going unspoken. Liam breaks eye contact first and I remember what he said before, how it was hard to remember his duty and ignore his heart. I do not know what I feel for him now. He’s changed my life since coming into it. Some of the changes are ones I can live with and others I’m still not sure about.
As I hear wheels screeching to a halt outside the building, the sirens better than any CD I’ve ever listened to, something occurs to me. Something that causes my blood to freeze and my mind to be perfectly alert for a flashing moment. In that fleeting second, I can feel my body doing its best to heal me, but the process is so slow. There’s so much damage.
“Braeden?” What happened to my brother? Where is he? It’s too hard to speak. I can’t move my mouth. I wordlessly will him to tell me that he’s killed Braeden. I will him to tell me that I will never again see the monster who shares half my DNA.
“I can hear your thoughts, Victoria, but I’m afraid you will be disappointed with my answer.” His eyes tighten at the corners and his silver-white hair seems to lose some of its shine. “I searched for him after securing the girls. I looked everywhere. But he is gone.”
Gone. I repeat in my head, but I know that he’ll be back. I can feel it, the truth aching inside my very bones.
“For now at least,” Liam whispers the four words like they are a death sentence. At least, that’s how it sounds to me—the girl who just discovered she has a psycho for a half-brother.
We hear boots against concrete. Yelled orders. Doors opening and closing. They’re searching the surroundings and outbuildings first. We don’t have much time left before they find us here.
“You... have to,” I swallow. I can feel myself slowly losing the will to talk. Leave, Liam. You shouldn’t be here. I can’t still be hurt that bad. But, shit, my eyelids feel like they’re weighted down.
He nods. “The girls will remember me though.”
They’ll remember a white haired angel that helped me get them free. I’ll say I didn’t recognize you. I blink slowly. Then again. I try to clear my head, but the more I try and stay awake, the foggier it gets.
Liam nods again. “If you think that’s best.”
I nod, the action feeling as if I’m on slow motion. One sheep. Two sheep. Three sheep. I blink again.
He touches my hand gently. “Victoria, are you sure? I can feel your exhaustion. You’re more hurt than you’re letting on and I don’t like to leave you like this”
Yes. I can go into a hospital now, Liam. I can go in without ever being tested. I wonder if he’ll ever know how grateful I am for that.
“You have nothing to be grateful for.” He leans down and plants the softest of kisses on my forehead. “I will see you again very soon then, Victoria.” There is more than duty in the sentence.
You better. It’s a hope in my mind, full of things I don’t understand.
I come to life yet again to watch as Liam becomes the thing of mist then and he rises up towards the broken windows. He is gone, a translucent fairy against the light of the moon, by the time Terrance and his men burst into the warehouse, guns out.
I exhale, the pain so great again that it threatens to overwhelm me. The air that comes out of my lungs is stale, like I’ve been holding it in forever. Maybe I have, ever since Lilly gave me clues to her murder, ever since I placed her little stuffed animal on my bed as a reminder that even the most precious, innocent things die too early.
Terrance rushes to me once they’ve cleared the room. “Tori. Shit, Tori.” His hands hover over my body, useless things without a task. “Shit, how hurt are you girl?”
At first, I try to think a response, but then I realize that Terrance is not Liam. He cannot read my mind. “I’m totally fine. Totally.” I close my eyes and reopen them. “Just a mosey in the park.”
“I think you’re going into shock.”
“Me? Shock?” I lift my arm and rub a hand across my face. I try and look inside my body, to assess how hurt I still am. I’d healed myself a little, just not quite enough to keep me from dying it seems.
That’s what it feels like. I’m dying. The kind of sleepy, peaceful passing away that the luckiest people get. My body is trying to heal itself. My power is trying.
But I am dying. So this is what it is like. It’s not so bad.
“Tori, stay awake,” Terrance yells, shaking me a little.
“I’m just really tired, Terrance. If I could just close my eyes.” I can barely hear my own voice, but I keep talking. “You just stay here. I’ll be okay after a little rest.”
“No. You need to stay awake. Tell me something. Talk about your Dad. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
I giggle, a softy ridiculous sound that makes no sense. “Something you don’t know about me?” I laugh again. “I’m too fat and I like takeout way too much. And I apparently have a brother who’s a total monster. And a fairy helped me save the girls.” I giggle again. This time it fades and fades until it’s the barest sound on my lips.
“Keep talking Tori.” Terrance says something else, but I don’t hear him.
People begin gingerly touching my body, seeing if I’m stable enough to move. I could tell them that I am, but I don’t.
“Terrance?”
“Yeah, Tori.”
“Darryl, he’s—”
“We found Darryl.” The kind man, dedicated to his job and the people of Bonneau, sounds tired. Instantly, I know that they have lost one of their own. I want to say something. I want to say I’m sorry.
But I can’t think clearly.
I’m on the stretcher now and they are lifting it up, extending the legs so they can roll me to the ambulance. “I’m so sorry. I wish we’d figured it out sooner.” I don’t know if I actually say the words or if I’ve just thought them in the haze of my own mind.
“Tori, you’ve got to be okay, girl. Don’t you dare die on me,” Terrance is walking next to the stretcher as it moves.
“Sausage for fingers.” The words fall from my lips. I don’t try and stop them. The world is spinning. And I am spinning with it.
“What, Tori?” Terrance places his hand over mine as they lift the stretcher into the ambulance.
“Don’t worry, Terrance,” I giggle and the sound is so foreign. “Dust now. He’s just a pile of dust.” I giggle again. I want to keep laughing, laughing until my body shatters into a thousand shards of flesh. No... I want to sleep. Just to sleep.
Nighttime bleeds into my brain. Mist from a lake, stars overhead.
“Dust?” Terrance has climbed into the ambulance and sat down. He swipes a hand across my forehead, maybe feeling for fever. The cop is giving way to the concerned friend. How long will he remain my friend after he finds out what I am?
What I am? What I am? I sing the words in my head, fighting the blackness that wants to overwhelm.
“Tori, stay awake now, girl,” Terrance’s voice is firm, yet still soothing like a lullaby. I don’t think that’s what he intended.
“We all become dust you know,” I say the words and my mind goes to the small pile of ashy soil on the floor. Surprisingly, I find life within it.
It’s the worm. The worm is still burrowing through the ruined golem, playing in the formless soil.
“Tori, you still awake?” Terrance’s hand presses against mine again, but I can’t answer. I’ve fought to stay awake so many times already. That time has passed. I have to give into the darkness.
There is only one thing I can do with what little energy I have left, before I’m wholly lost to shadow. I release the energy I’ve held within the worm. I push it back into the world. I thank the little creature as I do. It says nothing at all of course.
Because, you know, earthworms do not speak.
Chapter Thirty-Five.
I wake up in the hospital. For the second time this week.
I have never been admitted once in my life before now, having been born in the Columbia underbelly with any small injuries addressed at home. My father was brilliant at stitches and such, although most of his practice was on dead flesh rather than living. So being in the hospital twice, within the confines of a week’s time no less, is a record, one that I do not intend to beat anytime soon. Although, it is nice to know that I may walk in for healing without fearing the Necro-genetic test.
I’m alone, which is good. I close my eyes and feel inside of my body. The blood is tainted with pain medicine and it tastes more metallic and harsh than it should. It interferes with my ability to feel my injuries; it dulls the senses of my gift. Well, that’s one negative about going to a hospital I guess.
There is a soft cast surrounding my hips. I move slowly, testing how much it will hurt to adjust the bed so that I’m sitting up.
It’s honestly not as bad as I thought it would be. Perhaps I’d healed myself more than I thought. I start lifting the bed and grimace as the new position puts more pressure on my lower body. Um. Maybe not. I lower the bed once more until it’s positioned at a slight angle so that I can see the door and mounted television a little better.
It is another private room, larger than the last one I occupied. There are flowers contained in vases sitting on every single surface available- big, brilliant blossoms that cause a riot against the sickly yellow of the walls and the antiquated print on the hanging privacy curtains.
Through the slim door window, I can just see the shoulder of someone sitting outside the room. Another guard. Not Darryl this time.
The thought threatens tears. So I focus again on the room.
On the rolling cart used for meals, there are a number of unopened cards. I pull the table over and I read them, one by one. Four have me crying. They’re from the girls. Hannah cried while writing hers. Little tear stains have blurred the words.
Four are from the parents. They all say nearly the same thing. I want to tell them that they owe me nothing.