“Not that you’d know that.”
“Not personally. I’ve heard from a few sources. But he’s also dangerous. I mean, he killed Jecka and she was strong—probably stronger than you know. He’s a gloriously sensitive creature on the inside and a strong, gorgeous specimen on the outside.”
The muscle under my left eye starts twitching. “Why are you here?”
“I told you—”
“No, I mean here in my room. Other than to drive me batshit crazy, why are you here now?”
“You know, I have no hard feelings over you and Draven. Caius and I are deliriously happy.”
“And yet here you are, snuggling his empty space on my bed.”
“It's my nature,” she purrs. “And who can blame me? Your mate is ridiculously hot. I don't do sorrys.” Or manners. “I stopped by to tell you to be careful of who you trust.”
A snort explodes from my nose, and I laugh until my sides hurt.
“Whatever,” she seethes. “I tried. When you learn the truth, don't come crying to me about it.”
“Yeah, like I'd willingly come to you with a problem. Because you're sooooo nurturing and compassionate.” I cough, clearing my lungs after laughing too hard.
She jerks to her feet and stands over me. “Look, bitch—”
“Is there a problem in here, Syxx?” Misty stands in the doorway, and the flat look in her eyes unleashes a shiver down my spine. I feel slightly better knowing it's directed at Succubitch and not me.
Verica must feel the same, as her haughtiness replaces her hostility. “No. I was just leaving.”
“Yeah, you were.” Misty strides into the room, holding the door open for Verica.
“Think about what I said, Syxxy.” Succubitch minces out of the room.
Misty closes the door.
“Dude. I love you so hard for getting rid of her.” I pat the bed beside me and she sits down, scooching up to lean against the wall.
Misty nods at the door. “Who was she?”
“Succubit—I mean, Verica.”
“And she's on our side?”
I press my lips together. “That's what everyone keeps telling me.”
“I don't like her.”
I grin. “Me neither. What's up?”
“I brought your iPod back.” She holds it out.
Since she was so responsive to music, I lent her mine and she’s been dancing around butchering lyrics for hours. I swear my heart’s grown four sizes today. Instead of taking the iPod, I curl her fingers over it. “Keep it. It’s yours.”
“I couldn’t! I—”
“Too bad. I won’t hear another word about it.”
She cradles it to her chest and I feel even better about the gift. “Thank you. We owe you so much, Syxx. I wanted to thank you again for healing Ibor.”
I shift uncomfortably. “I didn't do it for thanks or to get on your good side. I did it because it was the right thing to do and I have the ability.”
“I know. But thank you.” Her eyes get misty, which makes mine sting, and we both sit for a moment trying not to cry.
She blots her eyes and laughs. “Wow, I didn't mean to come in here and be depressing.”
“Yeah, it's pretty emotional in here lately.” I sniff and wave my hand around as if dispelling a bad smell.
“I know you and Ashria are going to meet with the Sprites. I’ve never met Coren, but you need to be careful.”
“We will be.” Maybe it's the residual emotion floating around, but I'm touched by her concern. She doesn't really know me—then again, I don't know her either, and I still feel drawn to her. Maybe it’s because we’re both new to this version of reality. “Did you just come to tell me to be careful?”
She shakes her head. “No. Ibor and I talked, and we wondered if you’d be open to taking in more of us. More Fae soldiers.”
“How many?”
“Four for sure. If we can get to them.”
“If?”
“Ibor and I are going to get them out. I know we can't get them all out, but there are four who would really help. The guardians relied on them, and they'd have a lot of inside information.”
“What would the guardians think if soldiers suddenly started going missing? I’m all for rescuing whoever we can, unless it means putting more people in danger. And what if it jeopardized our element of surprise? Like, had you even heard about us, about The Resistance, when you were still with them?”
“We heard about underground enemies, our own people turning against us to aid the humans. There wasn't anything about a Resistance. Even when we learned about Sakarias and Ashria, we never knew about The Resistance—and we didn't learn about you.”
“Yeah, I was a pretty closely guarded secret. I didn't even know about myself until a month ago!”
She laughs.
“But, again, right now we have the element of surprise. If you go back, guns blazing—”
She shakes her head. “We wouldn't do that. We had defectors. People would go missing, seduced by the human world we were supposed to hate. Sometimes the lure of the future where we’d be in the open and in charge wasn't enough.”
“Did you know anyone who ran away?”
“A couple. A Leprechaun named Conor and an Incubus named Reblin. Reblin left after his...” her voice trails off. “Now I know he'd pair-bonded with a Witch, Linka. She was relocated to another training facility because they wanted to separate them. Reblin no longer cared what happened to himself. He'd always excelled at our drills, but when she left, it was like a part of him had walked out the door with her.”
“And he ran away?”
“He disappeared while out during an assimilation exercise. They’d let us out and we’d judge each other upon how well we interacted with and resembled humans. I haven't seen Reblin since. I think he went to try to find Linka. It’s what I would have done.”
“Sounds like what I'd do if Draven was taken away from me.”
“Sakarias told us about The Sowing and how you took out some of the Council members when you thought he was dead. You fought bravely.” The admiration in her voice doesn't make me proud.
I cross my legs instead of curling into a ball at the thought of how badly things could have gone. “I fought stupidly and let my emotions get the better of me. I jumped in before I knew anything about what I could even do. I could have died and gotten people killed in the process.” Gotten more people killed.
“But you didn't. You weren't meant to.”
“I don't believe in fate.” If it’s real, it’s an asshole.
“We're all fated, whether you believe or not.”
I don't want to argue, so I change the subject. “You said that their promises about the future weren't enough to keep some of you there. What promises?”
“Oh, it was a way to keep us from buckling beneath the weight of our lives. It was all about power. Tempting because that was the one thing we lacked the most. Humans were weak, we were strong.”
“Might makes right.”
She nods and fidgets with the hems of her sleeves. “Our day-to-day lives...I mean, it didn't seem that bad while we were there most of the time. When you haven’t known any different, you don’t realize how bad it is. Now that we're out, it feels surreal. Everything was about power. We were stripped of ours, all the while being fed bullshit about how strong we were, how we were going to be in charge. It gave us a feeling of power while staying captive to the leaders; the promise was we'd be in control of our destinies and rule the world someday.”
“I can see why you'd want to train hard and take over.”
“It was very heady. It gave us something to dream about to keep going through it all. We were going to rule the world someday. Some of us even dreamed of the day we could take over and change it all for the better—not all of us thought we were better than humans. We would change the system from the inside. It was so seductive. Even though that life was all we'd known, we wanted more.”
“Some of you.”
“True enough. There were some who were all about Fae dominance, Fae liberation. Certain soldiers who were eager to rise to the top, if only to treat those at the bottom as poorly as they'd been abused.”
“Feeding the circle of violence.”
She shrugs. “That was the minority. Most of us wanted something else. I mean, yeah they drummed it into us, but they were learned beliefs. They weren't anything we'd come to on our own, they were things we'd been fed.”
“Hard to get over that kind of learning though.” I've heard of enough cultists doing crazy things, and that was after believing the bullshit for only months or a couple years. We’re talking a lifetime of indoctrination.
“It's not impossible. Not if it's the right people who show you a new way—a better way. Ibor, me. Even Janska and she was die-hard Fae Lib.”
Misty’s got a point and I can’t underestimate our clout and strengths. “What are you proposing?”
“Ibor and I know the schedule. Tomorrow morning and the day after are when we used to go to town for assimilation training. Two of our friends, Ajda and Maly, should be in there. We know their habits, when they'll be safe to approach. We can get to them, bring them here safely.”
“And you're sure it's something they'd want? We have to be absolutely certain about anyone we bring back here.”
She swallows hard. “What Jecka used to do to Ibor, one of the Guardians used to do to Ajda. She'll join us, I know it.”
“And Maly?”
“Maly was weak by our standards. She suffered terribly during the combat drills. She was part Sprite. It's not that she had no power—she held her own with spells. But physically, she always lagged behind. Sixty, seventy percent of our lives was about making us strong and fast. Even the games we played as children were designed to hone our reflexes and speed.”
“No one likes a weak soldier.”
“You're only as strong as your weakest member. Only as fast as the slowest. I always hated how Maly was treated. They’d convinced her she was weak, and she longed for escape. She was too terrified, even when she had opportunities. Can't blame her.”
No, I can't. To be seen as weak is to be seen as little better than human—and expendable. Could I knowingly let these Fae girls go back to that hell, knowing that I had the chance to save them? No. And I can't stop Misty either.
More importantly, I don't want to. “Will you need any help?”
Her lightning bright smile warms my heart.
“Bring them home, Misty.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
My foot lands awkwardly on a rock, and my ankle rolls out with a sharp snap.
Damn it!
Heal it and take the pain away.
Not even eleven a.m. and this is the third time I’ve sprained it. Sure, each time I've healed it good as new, but it hurts just as painfully with each fresh injury.
Fucking rocks. I’d kick the next one I saw if I didn’t think I’d hurt my toe on it. Oh, how I miss the city. What's with all the Fae living in the middle of nowhere? Oh, look at me, I live in the mountains with trees and rocks and fresh air. Whoop-de-shit, there are also bugs, no bathrooms, and a serious lack of amenities.
And FYI, toilet paper does not grow on trees. Well, I guess it kind of does...whatever.
I woke up sore, having rolled onto a rock in my sleep, and itchy from bug bites. I've healed them, but my skin still crawls from the idea of them marching across me while I slept. This is the most I've ever had to heal myself and the only good part is I'm getting way better at repairing small injuries with barely a second thought.
I've never felt whinier. I can't wait until we're done with this and back home. I've had my fill of 'getting away from it all.' I want to get back to it. There's only so much fresh air these city lungs can take.
Ashria pauses by a large rock. “Let's stop for a moment and rest.”
The scowl melts from my face at the idea of stopping. Ashria hasn't even broken a sweat. She looks invigorated and relaxed, and it makes me hate her ever so slightly. I flop onto the rock and pull off my sneakers.
Removing my wool socks, I swap the sweaty cotton socks underneath for a fresh pair from my backpack and will my hiking boots to dry out. It was cold when we started walking, up and at ’em before the sun had thought about rising, and I wore too many layers for how hot it’s gotten. I've been able to strip down to a single layer except my socks. My magic could easily dry them out, but it's more the idea of a fresh pair of socks that's appealing.
Wait a second. I concentrate and smile when the new socks that will stay permanently dry form on my feet, now that I’ve created them. I wish I’d thought of it sooner, but they do say necessity is the mother of invention.
Sipping from my water bottle, I wonder for the hundredth time, how much longer until we're there? because the faster we get there and find out what's going on, the faster we can get back home where Trina will be, safe and sound.
Because if she's not, I'm going to sharpen up a nice, pointy stake and get medieval on some undead motherfu—
“Emilie-Syxx!”
“What?” My brow reflexively arranges itself into a scowl.
“I can feel your anger from here. Whatever it is, now's not the time nor place. Sprites are highly sensitive to the emotions of others. You must calm yourself lest they mistake your anger for hostility.”
“Okay.” She’s right, I should focus on the positive. Trina will be there when I get back, safe and sound. Maybe she’s already met Draven and they’re getting to know each other. The thought of the two people I love most in the world becoming friends makes me smile.
And Ibor and Misty's joy at Ibor's healing is another bit of positivity in my life. They’re going to be good friends to me too, I think. Helping them felt like an honor. Misty and I spoke more before I left, and I was surprised to learn that the Fae soldiers are privy to what we consider to be highly classified information. They grew up knowing the names of the High Council members, and their successors—because they haven't always been the same members. Fortunately for us, no retired High Council members will come forth to rally the troops if we manage to kill the existing members for one reason: The only way off the High Council is death. There is no retirement party with a shitty cake and a gold watch.
We can only hope the others are neutralized before Jecka is replaced.
I'd thought it strange all soldiers knew who the real leaders were until Kaya pointed out that the High Council were their idols, their gods. Unless the Fae soldiers knew who they were, they couldn't worship them properly and fear them accordingly, which made a sort of sick sense.
Even without Kaya telling us about his sister, we would have found out who the members were, but it was good confirmation and it gave us another ally. And I like Kaya. He’s like a walking encyclopaedia when it comes to Fae lore and rituals, and we’re all the family he’s got now, too. I can't imagine how lonely he'd be if he hadn't helped us and come to the safe house. We need allies, true, but we need friends more, friends we can count on in all of this.
I watch Ashria drink her water. I have family, my mate and a lot of friends surrounding me. Sakarias, Skortia. I already consider Misty and Ibor friends. Draven is my mate, and my friend as well. I'm fortunate. It's something to keep in mind and be thankful for.
How long will I have them? Will we all make it through this? Even if we do, what then? “What happens after all of this?”
“In what sense?”
I play with the top of my water bottle. “Do we all go back to our lives like none of this happened?”
Ashria’s gaze is level. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes. No. No, I couldn't go back to my old, human life as though I didn't know about the Fae.”
“But?” she prompts.
“Life isn't going to be this. When it's all over, what's left? I don't know how I fit into things anymore. The human world isn't enough. I'll always know there's more out there, but for all I've been outside of the huma
n world these past weeks, I still know next to nothing about the Fae world.”
“That is because they are one and the same, Emilie-Syxx. Your perception of the world has changed, not the world itself. Fae have always been a part of your world. True, there was a time hundreds of years ago when we were out in the open. Whether we're at the forefront, or in the background, the fact of the matter is we've always been here.” She perches beside me on the rock. “Your world seems different, and in fact, to you it is completely new. It isn't surprising you're not sure where you fit in. But know that you fit in where you've always fit in—wherever you want and on your own terms. It's both that simple and complicated.”
I lean against her shoulder a little bit, her words drawing me closer to her, comforting me. “I'm still not even sure where I'm going to live after this.”
“It will be an adjustment for all of us.”
Her old Council duties had her living a fairly transient life as well. Her world has changed too and will change again after all of this is done—win, lose, or draw.
“Was that what was bothering you?”
“Partly. I'm still worried about Trina.”
She squints and then shakes her head. “You don't have to worry about your friend.”
“How can you sound so certain? If you'd seen the way she looked in Mare's memory...” I shudder at the thought and fight the urge to launch some rocks down the hill we just climbed.
“Mare is all bark and no...well, for a Vampire, she's toothless. It's always been William you need to watch out for.”
That makes sense. He was the one who tore my throat out, but I was too busy being wary of Mare to notice the danger he radiated.
“And,” she continues, “Mare wouldn't dare defy you.”
“Because of you?”
“Because of who you are. You underestimate yourself, daughter. Not only are you a powerful Fae, you're a powerful woman. Strong, courageous, and willing to fight for the things you believe in. But strength alone is only half the picture. You're passionate, and beautiful, and kind. You want to protect those who can't protect themselves. You truly care about the people you help, and they care about you in return. It's not me the Fae are rallying around.”
The Reaping (The Moondreamer Chronicles Book 2) Page 14