"So something has happened to the keeper," Brittney said. "We have to figure out who they were, and we have to help them. Then the magic that guards this place will return, and we can leave."
Marissa shook her head. "It is not so simple," she said for the second time. "Finding the keeper is no easy task. I do not believe we will be able to. There is an alternative, however."
"What is it?"
Marissa looked over at Joseph and then back at the Afterlife members. "The keeper is not fey."
"What?"
She knew their reactions would be strong, but she couldn't have imagined the looks on their faces when she said that. "I know what you are thinking," she said. "How could we not know who they are, if they are not a fairy? We do not have the Sight. That is how the demons continued to smuggle themselves in. We don't get many other fairy visitors, but sometimes humans stumble upon our home. The ones that do find us aren't often malicious, but we've still had to test each one.
"I'm sorry," Brittney said. "But let me get this straight. You people are against all others. You hate humans, you hate demons, you hate everyone that's not fey, and yet your keeper isn't even one of you?"
"That is correct," Marissa said. "But child, we do not hate the others. At least, most of us do not. My people fear them. We have a long history with other races, and it is not a good one. I do not blame you for your anger at our people, Brittney. I know how you care for Chloe, and how it hurts that our people do not accept your relationship."
"I don't care what you think of Chloe and I," Brittney said. "I'm just amazed at how you can expect someone to guard your entire forest, yet you still discriminate."
"It is our nature," Marissa said. She wanted to explain how the fairies had once been prosecuted, hunted down, burned as witches, but these people already knew that. It would do little good to defend again. "I hope you realize that I do not share my people's views, and neither does Joseph. If we did, we would never have asked you here in the first place."
Nobody said anything for a moment. Then Alec's eyes lit up. "It should be easy," he said. "Harper has the Sight. She can find out who isn't a fey here."
"I do not believe the keeper is here," Marissa said. "If he was, then he or she would have come forward by now. No, there is an alternative measure we must take."
She looked between all of them. Who would understand first? She would have guessed Sarah, but again, it was Alec who spoke. "No."
"You must understand," Marissa said. "My people need protection."
"No."
Joseph let go of Marissa's hand and stood. He walked into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a pitcher of lemonade. He poured out glasses and handed them out. Alec took his begrudgingly.
"You aren't going to win me over with a glass of lemonade," he said.
"You misunderstand," Joseph said. "This is simple hospitality."
Alec grunted.
Marissa looked at Brittney. "You must become the keeper."
"What?" Brittney stared at her. "What are you talking about?"
"You are the only one here who is fully human," Marissa said. "A human is the only one who can possess the power to guard the forest. You must become keeper and restore the magic to our lands. I am sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?" Harper said. "It's not so bad. Brittney becomes keeper, and then we figure out who to get in here to replace her."
"Once she is keeper, she must stay," Marissa said. "We cannot risk bringing in another human."
"Then we're not doing it," Sarah said. "She's not staying here. She's one of us."
"That's right," Alec said. "She's part of Afterlife. She's not going to stay in your stupid forest and guard your people. She has a life, in case you haven't noticed. People who care about her."
Harper nodded her agreement.
Marissa ignored them. She stared instead at Brittney. "The choice is yours," she said. "I cannot force you to accept the role, but I urge you to consider it. The good you will do... the lives you will save..."
Everyone began protesting again, each adding in their opinion about how Brittney wouldn't be staying, how she wouldn't be keeper.
"Guys," Brittney said, interrupting the flow of conversation. "I'll do it."
"No, you won't," Harper said.
"This isn't your decision, Harper," Brittney said. "It's mine. I'm going to become keeper. I'll protect the forest. Someone has to do it, it might as well be me." She turned to Marissa. "If I become keeper, can Chloe come back?"
"Chloe is fey," Marissa said. "She is always welcome in her home."
"You're not doing this," Alec said sharply. "You're part of a team, Brittney. That means that you listen to the people you work with, and we're telling you not to do this."
Brittney ignored him and looked at Marissa instead. "How do I do this?"
Sarah closed her eyes. Then she opened them and looked at Alec and Harper. "She's set on this. The best thing can do now is support her."
Marissa took Brittney by the hand. "Come with me," she said. She led Brittney from the room, and into the dining hall. There she selected a bottle of pixie dust from a cupboard.
Harper, Alec, and Sarah all followed. Joseph went as well. They watched Marissa take the dust and sprinkle it on Brittney. She said a few words in a language that none of them recognized, and Brittney glowed a light blue. Then she returned to normal.
"You are now the keeper," Marissa said. "But none can know. You will live in a house of your choosing, and the rest of the fey will believe you to be one of them."
"How does that work?" Brittney asked.
Marissa smiled. "It is part of the spell that I cast. You have no idea what you have done for the fey, Brittney. Thank you."
"I'll live in Chloe's house," Brittney said.
"The rest of you may leave," Marissa told the others.
Harper started to argue, but Sarah stopped her. "There's nothing we can do now," she said. "It's time to go."
TWENTY
Conner heard a knock on his door and frowned. Chloe had gone home, after realizing that Brittney had become keeper, and the others hadn't stayed after telling him what happened. Sarah was the only one who looked at all like she supported the decision, and even she wasn't too happy. She had mentioned something about people doing what was necessary and then wiped her tears and left.
He thought about ignoring the knock and then sighed and opened the door. He saw Harper standing there. She was swaying on her feet, and her long blonde hair was a mess. There were rings of mascara under her eyes, and she let out a low hiccup.
"Harper?" He frowned at her. "What are you doing here?"
"Conner."
"You're drunk," he said. "Please tell me that you didn't drive over here." He looked past her, searching for her car. He didn't see it, and let out a relieved sigh. He took her arm and led her inside, glancing around to make sure his neighbors didn't see her standing there, reeking of alcohol.
"I took an cab." Harper said. "I had to see you."
"Why?"
"Because you're my friend," Harper said and she stumbled forward. Conner caught her in his arms and swallowed heavily. He liked the weight of her in his arms. He wanted to hold her there forever. But instead he led her to to couch and sat her down.
"Harper," he said. "It's going to be okay."
"No, it's not," Harper said. "Brittney decided to be keeper, and she's going to stay with the fey, and that means Chloe will go too, and Afterlife will fall apart. We're not going to stay together, Conner. None of it lasts. Nothing ever does."
Conner frowned. He went to the kitchen and got her a glass of water. He brought it to her and sat back down. When she tried to take the glass, the water sloshed everywhere, so he held it to her lips while she drank.
"Afterlife isn't over, Harper," Conner said.
"She's my best friend," Harper said.
"I know."
"And then there's Alec."
Conner shook his head. "I don't want to talk abo
ut him. Please."
Harper wiped at her face, and smeared mascara everywhere. She leaned against Conner and then kissed him.
"Harper," Conner said, pushing her gently away. It took all of his willpower. "What are you doing?"
"He doesn't want me," Harper said. "He doesn't want to be with me, he made that very clear, and I'm over it, Conner. I'm over him. I can't be with him, and that's fine, but I can be with you. We can be together."
Conner sighed. "Harper, you don't mean that. You're drunk. You and I both know that you're not over him."
"I am," Harper said. "I kissed him goodbye, but now it's over, and I'm free. You make me laugh, Conner, and you make me smile, and we can be together. Please, can't we be together?"
Conner put his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. She laid her face against his shirt, and began to cry. He stroked her hair while she sobbed, and felt his heart race. Wasn't this what he wanted? Didn't he want her to come to him, to say she was over Alec, and ask to be with him?
Then why did it feel so wrong? He kissed the top of her head, and then stood her up. "Let's get you to bed."
"Come to bed with me," Harper said.
Conner groaned.
She lifted her face and kissed him again. This time, he let himself enjoy it. She was incredibly soft.
"You're so warm," Harper murmured, snuggling up against him. "That's one of the things I've always liked about you, Conner. You're warm, and your heart beats."
Conner tried to lead her to the bedroom, but she kept stumbling. Eventually he picked her up. She was incredibly light. He carried her into his room, pulled back the blanket, and laid her in bed. Then he took off her shoes, and shimmied her pants off. She wore black panties, and he had to swallow again.
Then he pulled the blanket over her and kissed her forehead. "Go to sleep, Harper."
"Conner..."
"Go to sleep," he repeated. He turned the light off and walked out, closing the door behind him. It was difficult to do, but he was proud of himself. He would never take advantage of Harper. It was too much like the man he used to be.
He made himself up a bed on the couch, but it was a long time before he fell asleep. His mind kept turning to Harper, sleeping in his room, completely drunk, and telling him that she was over Alec. She'd kissed him goodbye, she'd said.
There were more important things to deal with right now, though. He knew that. He knew that Afterlife depended on them finding the real keeper, and bringing her or him home. Brittney couldn't stay there, and neither could Chloe. Harper was right about that much; none of them would survive it.
Eventually he slept. His dreams were marred by images of him and Harper, walking hand in hand in the sunshine, kissing under the moonlight, and laughing together. When he woke the next morning, Harper was already up.
She was wearing her pants again, and she was sipping out of the glass of water from the night before. She'd washed her face and combed her hair.
"Conner," she said. "I'm so sorry."
"No," he said. "You have nothing to apologize for."
"I was drunk," she said. "I tried to... well, you know what happened. You were there."
"Did you mean it?" Conner asked. "About you and me?"
Harper stared at him for a moment and then put down the glass of water. She went to him, took his hand, and led him back into the bedroom. This time, when she kissed him, he didn't stop her, and this time, when she invited him into his own bed, he didn't say no. Their lovemaking was gentle and soft and everything he ever imagined it would be. Afterward, Harper laid in his arms, and he cradled her head, and he let her sleep against his chest.
There would be time later to discuss their relationship and what this meant for it. Right now, though, he was just going to enjoy the time he had with her, and everything that he'd gone through to get it.
TWENTY-ONE
Alec paced through his apartment, thinking of Brittney becoming keeper. He hated it, and he hated her for making the decision. She said it was her choice, but she was part of a team, and team members didn't decide things like that on their own. Yet, she had. She had abandoned them all in an instant.
He hadn't even liked Brittney at the start. He'd thought she was spoiled and selfish and childish. Perhaps she had been, but she'd changed. She'd become one of them. Now, though, she had left them.
He wasn't stupid. He knew that Chloe would leave them too, and go be with Brittney. They were in love, after all.
Love.
He hated that word. He hated it more than he'd hated any other word in the English language. He thought if he never fell in love again, he'd be happy. Love led to nothing but misery. He wished he could make Harper understand that. He wished he could make her see what she was signing up for with a life with him.
They would never have children. He couldn't sire any, and even if they could adopt, what would be the point? To watch his child grow and age and mature while he stayed the same? To watch Harper grow gray hairs and get wrinkles around her mouth and lines around her eyes while his skin stayed forever smooth?
Someday, it would have to end. Because someday, she would die, just like any child they could raise together. Someday, he'd stand beside her coffin and watch it lower into the ground, all while he stayed forever twenty-nine years old, just a young man watching an old woman's funeral. It would shatter his heart into a million pieces.
So he'd had to break her heart instead, just like he'd once broken Ileana's. Their grief would only be temporary. He stormed through his apartment, thinking of Ileana. She had been so beautiful, and she'd been filled with so much light. He'd loved her right away, and he thought she would always be the love of his life.
Harper didn't compare. He wanted her to, but she didn't. Nobody could ever compare to Ileana, yet he'd left her too. He'd broken her heart, and then he'd watched from a distance as she moved on, married someone else, and started a family. He'd kept away.
He couldn't keep away from Harper, though. He couldn't leave her like he'd left Ileana. He was doomed to spend his time with her, watch her fall in love, watch her be happy with someone else up close and personal.
He went to his kitchen and picked up a coffee mug. He remembered when he'd first met Ileana and tried to kill her but couldn't. Afterward, she'd made him a cup of coffee. It had been perfect. Just the way he'd liked it. He took his cup and threw it against the wall. It exploded into a dozen fragments. He picked up another and threw it again, thinking of the second cup she'd made him.
Alec moved over to his pans, hanging so prestigiously on his wall. He'd always loved to cook, and he'd managed to perfect the art by the time he'd met Ileana. He remembered the first meal he'd ever made her. It had been a cold day, and he'd made her borscht, a red beet and cabbage soup. She'd eaten every bite and proclaimed it the best she'd ever had, even better than her mother's.
With an angry swipe, he knocked over all the pans, letting them scatter on the floor among the broken porcelain of his coffee cups. The rest of the house followed. He tore through linens, remembering how many beds he'd shared with Ileana. He threw his laptop through a window. He tossed plates on the ground, threw bowls at the counters. By the time he was done, his apartment was in shambles.
He breathed heavily, wishing he could transform into his vampiric state and go and hunt and kill. That would feel fantastic right now. A dim part of him -- the part that still loved Ileana and always would -- was grateful it was daytime. He couldn't transform during the day.
Alec moved to his closet last, and took down his favorite leather jacket. He'd worn it when the fire had destroyed his apartment, so it had been saved. H was extremely grateful for this, and it had nothing to do with the jacket. The jacket was just something he'd bought at a flea market when he'd been passing through.
It was what was in the jacket that mattered. He slipped to the inside pocket, where he kept treasured possessions. He laid them out on his bed, stripped of linens now, gentle and carefully. There was an initialed f
lask, a ring that had belonged to his mother, and a picture.
The picture was what mattered. He stared at it, and then picked it up, stroking the woman's face in the photograph. It was a black and white photo, and yellowed with age, but he could still see the green of her eyes when he looked at it, and the way her hair would streak red in the summertime. When he looked at the photograph, he could hear the chiming sound of her laugh, and the cawing noise of her cries. He could feel her fingers wrapped around his, and her lips pressed against his own.
He could still feel her, and he would never move on. Not with Harper, not with anyone. Ileana had meant more to him than he could ever explain to anyone, and he'd let her go. So if Harper thought he could be with her, that he could just forget, well, she was wrong.
"Ileana," he whispered. He laid down on the bed, cradling the picture to his chest. "I love you, Ileana. And I always will."
TWENTY-TWO
Sarah looked at her phone for a long time. She put it down, picked it up, and then put it down again. She sighed, and then picked it up once more. Then she sucked in a deep breath and clicked call.
Part of her hoped that there would be no answer. That would be easier. Better, perhaps. The past was the past, and that would never change. Why drag it up now? Why not just let it go?
"Hello?"
Sarah gasped. It had been so long since she'd heard Elizabeth's voice, but she recognized it immediately. It was her mother's voice. Same pitch, same frequency, same tone. For a moment, she didn't know what to say. She drew in another breath.
"Hello?" Elizabeth repeated.
"Beth?" Sarah asked.
"Sarah?"
"Yes," Sarah said. "It's me."
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and then she heard her sister laugh. It was such a pleasant sound, and she wondered why she hadn't made the call earlier. Hearing that laugh meant everything to her. It was a laugh she hadn't heard enough growing up.
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