Tit for Tat

by JS Harker

  Flynn gaped at Derek in awe. He had felt the urge to stand for him, and he had felt Derek’s love, but Derek didn’t stammer or waver as he stared the man down. His stance was as solid as a knight from the stories. All to protect Flynn.

  “You don’t know my name or anything about me,” the man said.

  Derek’s phone clicked. “I’ve got a photo, the internet, and it’s winter fucking break. Test me, asshole.”

  The man hissed and snarled and muttered, “Winter will forsake you too.”

  Flynn felt a chill to his bone, but not the way he was used to.

  “That’s it. I’m calling the cops,” Derek snapped.

  The man spat and turned his back on them. Derek stood between him and Flynn. Stalwart and true. Flynn’s love.

  Flynn closed his eyes. There would be no more hiding from Derek. His last bit of secrecy had to be laid bare. Derek had to know he couldn’t stay. He only hoped their hearts didn’t break.

  Chapter Nineteen

  DEREK waited until he was sure the man was gone before he turned to Flynn. Calling the cops might not do any good since the aggressor was gone, but Derek held his phone at the ready.

  Holy crap. He’d flat-out punched a guy. Seeing Flynn in pain had caused some part of his mind to snap into a protective mode, something he hadn’t even known he had, much less counted on.

  He took another steadying breath as he helped Flynn stand. “Are you all right?”

  “Better,” Flynn said. He took his hand away from the spot on his neck. A dark blue welt had formed.

  Derek gently tugged down Flynn’s collar to get a better look. “What did he do to you?”

  “Fey have an allergy to iron,” Flynn said. He had a few more too-blue spots of skin. “I didn’t think anything had a high enough content anymore.”

  “Cast iron skillet,” Derek said. “A dinky little skillet.” He put his hand on Flynn’s shoulder.

  With the adrenaline going away, the impact hit hard, and exhaustion took the place of fear. For a moment, the way Flynn had screamed, Derek thought he was seriously hurt. The welts were angry marks on his skin, but he would be all right. Derek kissed him.

  After, he asked, “What was he going on about? I couldn’t understand half of what he said.”

  “He spoke the language of Winter,” Flynn replied. He seemed too withdrawn, but Derek couldn’t blame him. Getting attacked that way would rattle him too.

  Derek still had questions that needed answers. “That’s something a human can learn?”

  “He wasn’t human,” Flynn said. “At least he didn’t use to be.” He clutched Derek. “He was asking me to take him home.”

  “That wasn’t asking,” Derek said.

  “Demanding. Coercing. Whatever human word,” Flynn replied. “He was of Winter and he wanted to go home, and I couldn’t take him there.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because there’s something wrong with him. He must have been here too long.”

  A terrible kind of math was going through Derek’s mind. A programming glitch, only not an actual glitch but an undesired outcome. But Derek wanted to deny it. Maybe he didn’t have enough information.

  “What do you mean, ‘too long’?” Derek asked carefully.

  Flynn had a guilty expression, and his right ear twitched. There was something he didn’t want to say.

  Derek wished he’d never asked, but he needed to know. “Flynn, please. What’s wrong with him? Why couldn’t you take him to the feylands?”

  “Most fey are tied to either summer or winter,” Flynn said. “Magic doesn’t exist here like it does at home. We have to be in our element and be careful, or we don’t sustain ourselves even inside of our season. I thought it was silly. Not real. Another falsehood to keep us bound to the feylands. But going home, coming back, using magic, I can feel the difference.”

  “And if you’re outside your season?” Derek asked.

  “I’d lose my powers completely.”

  “When winter comes, would your magic return?”

  “I don’t know.” Flynn stared in the direction the man had left. “I don’t think so. He was of fairy and now he’s too human, or something in between. It’s like he hungers for magic because he misses it. He’s bitter.”

  “And so you couldn’t let him in?” Derek said.

  “I don’t know what he would do if he got to go home. I’d be responsible for it,” Flynn replied. “I can’t simply open the door for him.”

  “Are you going to turn into him?”

  Flynn shivered. “There’s a chance I’ll become something like him if I remain through the spring.”

  “This whole time you knew you couldn’t stay?” Derek demanded. His chest hurt.

  Flynn wasn’t saying anything. He wasn’t moving. He was as glacial as that damn castle.

  Damn the cold. Damn snow. Damn cloudy skies. Damn ice and avalanches and evergreens. Damn cookies and damn coffee and damn crystal blue. Derek’s chest hurt so badly it had to be on the way to exploding. Damn winter.

  Derek kicked the snow mound nearest to him, only it turned out to be more ice than snow. He hissed in pain as he hopped back from it, trying not to put weight on his injured foot, only to wind up stepping on a patch of ice and losing his balance. On his butt and feeling colder by the second, he cursed out whomever hadn’t put down enough salt on the sidewalk. A little protection against falling wasn’t too much to ask for.

  His heart could’ve been smart enough not to fall either.

  Flynn knelt near him and offered his hand. His face was as unreadable as the other fairies’ had been.

  Tears rolled down Derek’s face, and he took off his glove to wipe at them. He didn’t need them turning to ice or chapping his face. “You were playing one of those fairy games with me.”

  “I wasn’t,” Flynn said softly. “I’m not.”

  “But you knew you couldn’t stay,” Derek replied. “You knew you’d have to leave at the end of winter, and you never told me.”

  “Everything has happened so fast—”

  “Don’t make an excuse,” Derek said. “You could have told me. You could have said, ‘Hey, I’m a fairy, and I can’t stay.’”

  Flynn looked away, and there was a glimmer of hurt in his expression. “I want to share what time I can with you.”

  “Even if it’s just a couple of months,” Derek said. He wiped away more tears. “God, how much time is that for you? Like a day? You’re going to forget all about me.”

  “Time matters for us. You matter to me.” Flynn met his gaze, and his blue eyes were so intense they drove Derek’s breath away. “I love you.”

  And Derek believed him. That was the worst part. Derek still believed him. He pulled his knees up to his chest and tried to end the sobs, but they wouldn’t stop. Because he’d been stupid enough to give his heart for a second time to someone who wouldn’t bother keeping it.

  Despite his breaking heart, all he wanted was to be curled up against Flynn and forgetting everything that’d happened. He choked back a few tears, managed to make his voice work again. “I love you too.”

  Warmth returned to Flynn’s expression, like he’d been waiting for confirmation before allowing himself to feel again. He scooted closer to Derek and sat down beside him. They weren’t quite touching, which bothered Derek more. He laid his head on Flynn’s shoulder, and Flynn gently petted his hair. For a long, terribly cold moment, they sat that way in silence.

  “You could come with me,” Flynn whispered. “When I have to return to the feylands. You could come.”

  To the land of weird time and no cell phones. To the unrelenting cold and the strange beings who’d see him as nothing more than Flynn’s plaything. Maybe not all of them would, but Derek would always be the odd one. He was awkward enough with humans.

  “Would I get older?” Derek asked.

  “It would take longer by human standards. You’d have a significantly longer life.”

  Only if he stayed i
n the fairy realm. There were no computers or internet. Every skill he’d tried to pick up for the last few years would be next to useless in that environment. He’d always be cold to the bone. He wouldn’t even have cell service. He’d never be able to talk to his friends or family again. No late nights chatting with Javi about the games they’d make after graduation. No more random bags of cookies at Christmas from Mom. No more lousy Facebook messages from Dad where he obviously missed the joke. And Lizzie—she was on the verge of being someone cool. He’d miss everyone and everything.

  “But I’d never see my family again.”

  Flynn’s hand stilled. “I’m not sure if you would.”

  “It’d be too hard to explain after a while. Why I wasn’t getting older. And I wouldn’t be able to talk to them ever.”

  “I hadn’t thought about that.”

  Longer life without anything familiar, or a human lifespan without Flynn. Derek hated both those options more than anything. “What if we were together while you can be here each year?”

  “Half a year without each other doesn’t seem fair,” Flynn said.

  Derek shifted so he could see Flynn’s face. He was too still and drawn, like a handsome statue contemplating the troubles of the universe. Only his right ear twitched. He was thinking. Handsome, wonderful Flynn was trying to think of a way to be together. Flynn loved him, and Derek couldn’t stand the thought of losing him forever. More tears threatened, but he took a deep breath and tried to quash them.

  “I want to be with you,” Derek said. “I love you. If you can’t stay all the time, and I can’t go with you, this half a year on, half a year off is the only solution. How else are we going to make this work?”

  “There have to be other fairies who have made this work,” Flynn said. “I can’t be the first one. Maybe I don’t know enough. I can ask the queen. She might know what to do.”

  “Queen of the fairies who think kidnapping mortals is normal?” Derek asked.

  “She banned that practice for a reason. There might be some way to preserve my magic. She’d have to know.”

  “And if there isn’t?”

  Flynn pursed his lips as he stood. “Then we will find another way.”

  “You’re going now?” Derek said as he rose.

  “I don’t think we have time to waste.”

  “Let me drive you home at least.”

  “The walk will help me clear my mind.”

  Clear his head and let him think about whether Derek was worth giving up his whole world for. This might be the last chance he had to see Flynn before everything was over again. “It’s going to take you forever.”

  “If I go the human way.” Flynn quirked a small smile at him. “I’ll be fine.”

  “All right. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Flynn kissed him, slow and gentle in a cherished way.

  Derek clutched him and put his forehead against his. “You have to come back to me. Even if it’s to tell me I can’t see you again or worse, somehow, you have to come back and tell me.”

  “I promise I will.”

  Derek kissed him one more time, once more to try to tell Flynn how much he needed him, but he only felt clumsy and awkward. That wasn’t how Flynn looked at him, though. Flynn only ever looked at him like he mattered.

  Flynn disentangled himself from Derek and walked across the parking lot. A wind kicked up, blinding Derek with snow. In spite of the wind, he kept his eyes open. They watered from straining against the cold, but he wanted every moment of Flynn he could have. He watched as Flynn became a shadow and vanished in the breeze. Magic. The fairy way home.

  Couples had to make choices all the time. Live in a big city or somewhere more rural. What brand of cereal to buy. What to make for dinner. Vacations at the beach or adventures abroad. People gave up little bits or found something else to agree upon.

  But aging slower than his family? Being completely out of contact with anyone he ever knew? Having no career in the mortal world? Derek frowned and held on tightly to his knees. He had been right to tell Flynn he couldn’t abandon his life.

  So why did he wish he’d said yes and disappeared with him? Why did guilt frost over the warmth of his love for Flynn?

  Because losing Flynn meant more than losing a boyfriend. Derek did love him. Without him winter and holidays and snow were never going to be the same. There would be no more magic in new kisses and bright smiles. Everything would be empty and hollow. Pointless. Derek had had enough pointlessness in his life.

  There had to be a solution. And if the fairy queen didn’t have an answer, Derek and Flynn would think of one.

  Chapter Twenty

  THE winter winds brought Flynn to the portal. Brought him home to the snow-covered plain he’d raced back and forth on with his friends. All of them on their separate paths, all growing into lives firmly rooted in the feylands. Few were ever curious about mortals like he was. None of them would dare to follow his strange desire. They wouldn’t understand what he contemplated doing. Leaving the fey for a mortal.

  If Queen Mab didn’t have a solution, then he hoped he could have her blessing. Maybe that would be enough to see him home again someday.

  Home. The word had too many meanings at the moment. The plains, the fey. Derek. He didn’t want to choose just one.

  He approached the palace, drinking in all of its majesty.

  It was still the solstice celebration. The palace’s doors were thrown wide open, and the fey commoners mixed with the lords and ladies. All were dressed in their finery—glinting gowns and sparkling attire—and Flynn stuck out in his human garb. Derek’s sweatshirt, a pair of jeans. He had to look half-mad to them, and not in the way accepted by the Court. More than a few stared: the younglings only knee-high, the elders lounging on ice chairs, the ones in between who danced upon the marble floors.

  A lust for exploration, for feelings, made him so different from the rest of them. They went after pretty, shiny things, but how many of them genuinely cared for another? Had someone who’d risk everything for them? Flynn knew there had to be some, but the age of heroes had long passed. The petty games of Court continued.

  Queen Mab sat upon her throne above the others, head held high.

  Flynn made his way through the entangling masses, the feel of his magic returning with every step. He had little power on Earth, and before Her Majesty, he was heightened. An easy power roiled through him from being so close to the source. He owed his allegiance to her for that alone.

  Power and spells weren’t the only magic worth having.

  A winged fey about four feet tall landed before Flynn, not bothering to bow or make any gestures before he spoke. He made a disgusted noise at Flynn’s appearance. “What does one of your kind want in the Court?”

  Flynn didn’t have time for this. Days could pass in the moral realm if he tried to negotiate through all the protocol. “I need to speak to Her Majesty.”

  “One such as you?” The fey flitted his wings and shook his head. “Every fairy wants to speak to Her Majesty at this time of celebration. Your wish is denied. Go back among the hill folk and play your silly little games. Try to get that human stink off you, youngling. You’ll make us vomit.”

  “I need to speak to the queen.” Flynn stepped around the winged fey.

  The fey was suddenly before him, and they were three feet back from where they had been. “Forcing yourself upon the nobility when you are in such a state is not the way. Even at solstice. This is a time for celebration, not demands. You have obviously played too close with the mortals. Go home. Remember what you are and leave them be. They are not worth your time.”

  “Who are you to make such refusals? I must speak to the queen,” Flynn said.

  The fey flew off without another word and landed on the armrest of Queen Mab’s throne. As they whispered to each other, the queen leveled her frozen expression at Flynn while the winged one glared. Flynn clenched his jaw and continued through the crowd.

  Qu
een Mab steadily glared at him. Her attention transfixed him to the spot, and he was afraid to look down and see his legs turned to actual ice or stone. He had wanted the queen’s attention and gained it. She rose from her seat, and the crowd paused. After a rolling gesture of her hand, they resumed their revelry, though more muted than before. She beckoned Flynn to follow her and walked through a door behind the throne.

  A private audience with the queen. If anyone had the answer, she did. He hurried to obey, stumbling over another fey and begging an apology as he kept moving without looking behind.

  The inner audience chamber was as strikingly beautiful as the rest of the palace. It was made from sheer ice, lending it a colder temperature than the courtyard. The throne was simpler but still the focal point of the room. Queen Mab sat down. Her regal attitude was a magnifying glass pinpointing light onto Flynn. She was terrifying and awe-inspiring. Fey aspired to be like her.

  But Flynn never had, never wanted to be so cut off from emotion, so statuesque. He bowed as far as he could without tipping over. “Your Majesty.”

  “You wanted my time, little one. Do not waste it,” Queen Mab said.

  “Of course, Your Majesty.” Except Flynn didn’t know how to put his needs into words. He kept his gaze low, and his mind continued failing to find words.

  Queen Mab gave an exhausted sigh. “Let us start at the beginning. You are in mortal clothing. In my Court. You have disobeyed me.”

  “You wish us not to be caught by mortals. Not to be tricked by them. I haven’t been,” Flynn said. “But it is foolish to—”

  “You think a decree of mine foolish?” the queen snarled.

  Flynn flinched. Blazing iron, he would need more courage than that if he hoped to finish speaking. He thought of Derek, of Derek pushing through his awkwardness. Derek standing tall between him and the man who threatened him. “You want us to keep a distance from the humans, but our world is connected to theirs. To ignore it and its changes is foolish.”

  “And this is why you sought an audience with me? During the solstice? To tell me that my decree is foolish?”