by C. R. Jane
“I’ve got a meeting with the football team this morning. I have a lot to make up for in ruining the season,” he says. “There’s going to be security stationed everywhere in the building, but if you need anything, call anyone of us and we’ll be right there,” he says.
“Where are Mason and Beckham?” I ask, not realizing that I had slept so long.
“Beckham had to shoot some scenes today. He missed work yesterday,” Damon tells me.
I grimace at the reminder of how much I’ve messed up their lives and continue to do so. “And Mason?”
“Mason had to go meet with Courtney’s attorney. Apparently, she left everything to him in her will,” he says reluctantly.
My eyes widen at that news. I’m not even sure how to process it. So I say nothing.
“This is killing me to leave you alone here after everything that has happened,” Damon says, hovering at the door.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell him. “I love you.”
“I love you too, but don’t fall asleep unless one of us is with you,” Damon says, his voice silky smooth like it is when he’s trying to seduce me.
“I won’t,” I tell him, and he’s out the door taking a part of my heart with him.
I finish eating breakfast and then get dressed, shooting a text to Lexi that I want to meet with her this morning if she’s free. She texts me back immediately and we set up a time to meet.
Right as I finish making plans with Lexi, the phone rings and I can’t help but smile when I see that it’s Damon.
“Hi,” I say somewhat breathlessly. “I thought you had your meeting right now?”
“I just wanted to tell you that I love you and that I miss you,” he says, and I flush all over even though there’s no one in the room. “What are you doing right now?”
“I’m about to meet Lexi-”
“Not a chance,” he says to me.
“Pardon me?” I’m pacing now, Damon’s sweetness from moments before forgotten in the clench of my knuckles around the phone. “I think I misunderstood, because there’s no way you can forbid me to go. Let’s start again . . .”
“Don’t.” The growl is back and it’s not playful. It rips through me until my anger is front and center. “I’m about to head into this meeting with the team that I screwed over. Somehow, I have to explain why my disappearance in the middle of the season shouldn’t preclude them from trusting me in the future...and why I disappeared in the first place. I’m not in the mood to worry about you outside of the apartment. There’s multiple people trying to hurt you right now, or have you forgotten about that?”
“I’m well aware of my circumstances, Damon. I’m also aware that I’m a big girl with a few tricks up my sleeve that you’re overlooking. You’re making it a big deal and it’s not.”
He groans. “Your safety is the most important thing to me. I’m sorry, baby. I really am. I can’t let you go . . .”
I don’t answer him, and we are silent for a moment, listening to the sound of our breathing.
“I’ll stay in,” I tell him reluctantly.
“Thank you,” he breathes into the phone, and the fact that he sounds so relieved makes me less angry.
I hang up and text Lexi that we’ll have to meet up later. Sitting on a stool in the kitchen, I feel anxious, fidgety. I woke up this morning resolved to start figuring things out and now I’m trapped in this elegant prison.
Just then, I remember the journal sitting in my drawer. As soon as I think of it, it calls to me, until nothing else can distract me from it. After trying to watch a show and read the next screenplay of the movie that Beckham is acting in without success, I finally make my way to my bedroom.
I stare at the drawer for a long time, trying to muster up the courage to read the journal. When I’ve wasted enough time that I should be embarrassed, I finally open the drawer and pull out the leather-bound book. I’m half expecting to be pulled into another vision, but I remain blissfully present.
Curling up on my bed, I take a deep breath, and open the book. My mother’s handwriting immediately brings tears to my eyes and a heavy sense of loss. How is it possible to mourn someone so much that I can’t even remember?
My dearest Eva,
Right now, you’re lying asleep on the bed next to me, just arrived from the Goddess herself. I could stare at you forever and never be tired of it. Becoming your mother is the single greatest moment in my life. Waiting the thousand years that the Goddess made me wait seems insignificant. I would have waited forever for you.
Tomorrow we will announce to all of Fairie that you have been born. I’ve been using glamour for the last eight months to convince the kingdom that I am pregnant so that your legitimacy and right to the throne will not ever be questioned. You are mine in all the ways that count, and the Goddess still made you at least a part Fey so that you can carry the magic of the land. Not that it would matter if you didn’t carry a single drop of Fey blood. The second I saw you, I fell in love.
You are perfect. I’m sure that all new mothers think that, but you have truly been blessed. When I petitioned the faded realms for you, I never imagined that you would be what they would give me. I will treasure you always, my heart. I just pray you forgive me when you find out what I promised in exchange for you...
Crying seems to be a theme of my life right now, and this moment isn’t different. Giant, fat tears roll down my face at seeing a representation of my mother’s love for me in her own handwriting. I’m not sure what to think about the fact that I was actually delivered to her, however. It all sounds so nonsensical, like the stories about storks delivering babies that I was told as a child as an explanation for where babies come from.
Desperate for more, I continue reading.
Dearest Eva,
He came to visit today. An actual God of the faded realms came to check on you. I wish I could say that it was a joyous occasion, or even an awe-inspiring occasion, but it was not. My greatest wish used to be that I would live forever and that you would not be separated from me, and instead be able to rule by my side forever and ever. Now, I wish that you would somehow have the opportunity to pick your own fate. He acts like he knows you. Although you are still a little girl, he seemed to already know all of your likes and dislikes, all the quirks and mannerisms that make you undeniably you. I had not thought that the Gods watched us that closely but perhaps I am wrong. Either way, my heart grows heavier each day knowing what I have done to you. I always thought that maybe it had all been a joke, that he wasn’t really interested in a Fey Queen when he could have any goddess in the Faded Realms. After today, I know that to be wishful thinking. He will come for you.
I’m even more confused when I finish both passages. Is Aiden a God? What are the faded realms? She waited for me for 1000 years? I knew that she had tried to get pregnant for a long time, but the sheer enormity of how long the Fey, and other supernatural creatures lived was still unbelievable to me. My phone beeps, giving me a reprieve from all the new questions popping up in my head. I glance over to see who it is and can’t help but sigh. It’s Eric.
Eric: Eva, hoping everything worked out alright the other day. I’ve been really worried about you. You never texted me! Can you meet me for lunch today? I really need to know that you’re alright.
Going to lunch with Eric sounds about as much fun as a lobotomy. But he did save me the other day, and he didn’t fight with Damon this time around which could show progress. And it’s just lunch….
I knew Damon would be a few more hours. Just enough time for me to slip out and be back without him finding out. I respond to Eric and make plans to meet him at the cafe where he took me the first time we ever hung out. I feel a sudden longing for the simplicity of those first couple of weeks. Even with the confusion of having feelings for Mason, Damon, and Beckham, that was all a piece of cake compared to what I’m dealing with now.
Grateful to have a reprieve from the journal, I place it back in my drawer, covering it back up again. I t
hink I want to keep it hidden from the guys so badly because I want to figure out the mystery myself before I bring it to them. They’re always having to save me or do things for me. This feels like a chance to figure out something myself, to save myself so to speak.
I’m about to exit the penthouse, but I remember that there are security guards in the hallway and down in the lobby. They’ll text Damon the second I show myself. I try and use my power...a lot of the things I have tried have worked terribly lately, but simple things like pushing my emotions into others has worked. Surely casting a glamour so that they can’t see me wouldn’t be too hard. I try to remember everything that Lexi has told me about the Fey and their glamours. I close my mind, and summon the now ever-present golden ball inside of me to the forefront of my mind. I picture it melting all around me, until I blend in with my surroundings. Opening my eyes, I walk to the hall mirror to see if I notice anything different.
Examining myself, I seem to have a gold light sitting on top of my skin, different than the one I’ve gotten in the past at Mason’s concert. Convinced I’ve done something, I cautiously walk out the door, watching the two closest security guards out of the corner of my eye.
If they see me, they do a good job of acting like they don’t. I’m able to go down the stairs and into the lobby without a word from anyone. Walking across the lobby, I watch everyone I pass to see if they ever make eye contact. The fact that they don’t feels oddly freeing. It seems like everyone is always staring at me, so to be able to walk past without feeling eyeballs glued to the back of my head, or my chest as is the case a lot of the time, it feels incredible.
I make it out of the lobby without anyone saying anything to me and I walk a little ways away from the building before releasing the glamour and hailing a cab. I get to the restaurant and see that Eric is already waiting at the entrance, a pair of sunglasses on his face despite the cloudy day. It reminds me of the disguises that the guys are always wearing when we go out, and I feel a pang of guilt. I immediately push it away. I need to be equal in this relationship. From the beginning I’ve been the girl they were saving. Our relationship is never going to work, no matter how much I love them, if I’m being constantly told what to do like an errant school girl.
“Eva,” Eric says when he sees me. It comes out like a prayer and I wonder how a friendship is possible at all when he feels the way he does about me.
He pulls me in for a hug and I shudder at how cold he feels. Has he always felt like this? It’s like he walked out of an icebox.
“You need to warm up,” I tell him, straightening his coat as I gently pull away from his embrace.
There’s a flash in his eyes that I don’t understand, but then he smiles, and I’m struck by how handsome he’s gotten. He’s always been a handsome guy by mortal standards, but he has that perfect sheen that I’ve seen somewhere before. The image of the club that Lexi took me to flares in my mind. He almost looks like all the vampires that I saw that night.
I laugh to myself at the thought that I entertain for half a second. Eric isn’t a supernatural I assure myself. He’s a normal boy from South Carolina whose biggest flaw is that he likes me more than he should.
We settle down at a table inside. It’s way too cold for us to sit outside. We both order the mocha lattes that he first introduced me to here, except this time I get it hot instead of iced. Once our drinks arrive, we make small talk, and I find that I’m already ready to leave. He talks about his Christmas plans and he of course invites me to go home with him when I tell him I’m not sure about my own plans for the holidays. I flush, and gently make an excuse. He’s disappointed I can tell, far more than he should be about a girl he barely knows not wanting to go home with him, and I start to go through the list of people that I know, wondering if I can set him up with anyone from the cheerleading team. The girl I first saw him with comes to mind, but I guess if he was interested in her he would be with her.
“Will you be back next semester?” asks Eric, and I tense up. As an explanation for why I missed so much school, the guys and I came up with the excuse that my appendix had burst, and I was hospitalized for months because of the resulting infection. It has seemed to satisfy most people’s curiosity, although neither the record label, nor Beckham’s film execs, nor Damon’s football coaches thought that it was a good enough excuse that all three of them had to disappear to take care of their hospitalized girlfriend. Not that they know they all share a girlfriend…
“Eva,” asks Eric in an annoyed tone. I shoot him a conciliatory smile since it was clear that I haven’t been paying attention.
“What were you saying?” I ask. “Sorry, I’m not sure where my mind went.”
“I asked if you were coming back to school next semester.”
“Yes,” I tell him, and I’m struck a little dumb at the full watt smile he blasts at me. It’s much more attractive than usual. It’s like his teeth have straightened out and gotten shinier and whiter overnight. Maybe he did braces or something while I was gone.
“I tried to come visit you at the hospital,” he says, and I keep my eyes averted from his that seem to be trying to burrow into my soul. “I called all the hospitals, but no one had a record of an Eva Taylor being admitted.
“I was taken to a private hospital for a while,” I tell him, not knowing if that was actually a thing. “I think they have a policy that they can’t give out names. I’m sorry I worried you,” I tell him earnestly, reaching out to touch his hand and grimacing with how cold it is. “You’re still so cold,” I tell him, pushing his drink towards him. “Hold this, maybe it will help you to warm up.”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve always been a little cold-blooded,” he says with a shrug.
“What really happened the other day?” he finally asks, after an awkward silence. “Was it really a sorority prank, because that’s not okay. They need to be reported.”
I’m at a loss with what to say. I don’t want anyone to get in trouble because of my lie. “It was just a harmless prank,” I tell him, smiling reassuringly. “Nothing to get upset by. I promise.” I immediately hate the last part of that sentence. My promises are coming to mean nothing lately with how much I have to lie to everyone.
I move the subject to football and it succeeds in diverting his attention from all the difficult subjects we can’t talk about without me having to lie to him. Our food arrives, and I strive to listen attentively as I eat, shoveling the food in my mouth so I don’t have to talk very often.
“Are you hungry?”he asks with a laugh, as I stuff a particularly large piece of my sandwich into my mouth.
“Starving,” I say in a muffled tone since my mouth is so full, laughing at myself right along with him.
When we’re finished, Eric invites me to go to the movies with him. Luckily I have the meeting with my professor scheduled that I might as well go to since I’m already out of the house and disobeying Damon’s request. Eric seems satisfied with my excuse since it doesn’t involve Damon, Mason, or Beckham, and he makes me promise that I’ll go to the movies with him soon.
Cursing my lack of courage, I agree, giving him one last hug that cancels all the warmth I was able to get from my mocha. He’s so cold. “Go get in front of a fire,” I tell him, and he again gets a funny look across his face.
“Don’t worry,” he tells me, brushing his lips across my cheek with a longing stare to go along with it. “Everything is good, better than good.”
It’s kind of an odd thing for him to say in response to me wanting him to warm up, but I ignore it, eager to get to my other responsibilities for the day since I fulfilled my obligation to see him.
I get to my Art History professor’s office right as our meeting is supposed to start. Professor Oliver is one of my favorite professors, mostly because he doesn’t look at me like he’s having fantasies about eating me or spanking me on top of his desk.
We go over my project idea and after I get his approval and we go through some
specifics, I get up to leave.
“Eva,” he says, getting up and rooting through one of his cabinets. “I was invited to a private auction of some paintings whose origins have been lost. I saw this, and I couldn’t help but think that it bears a striking resemblance to you,” he says, a puzzled look on his face as he looks back and forth between the painting in his hand, and me.
“Can I see it?” I ask him, and I know that he can hear the tremble in my voice. He turns the frame and I take a deep breath. It had to be painted by the same person as the one who painted the picture at the Louvre. I’m on the same throne as before, but this time there’s an ebony snake wound about my shoulders. Like before, I can’t help but reach out my hand to touch the painting.
“Darling,” comes a voice and the look-alike girl looks up, guilt burning across her features for no obvious reason before she quickly schools her face as I’ve seen her do before.
Aiden comes into view, but just like before he’s an Aiden that I’ve never seen before. So impossibly beautiful that it almost hurts my soul to look at him. I see the look of awe and love that the girl gives him. It’s real and true and I wonder how she could ever look at Aiden that way since I know the monster he really is. Her loving look is followed by one that’s conflicted. He takes the girl’s hand and I feel her fear as an enormous black snake begins to appear out of his hand and make its way until it’s wrapped around her shoulder. She’s shaking, and anyone who saw her would know that she is deeply afraid of the creature. When she looks at Aiden though, there’s only trust in her eyes.
“Are you ready for the next bite, my darling?” he asks, his voice filled with so much love and concern that even my insides flutter involuntarily.