by Chloe Adler
“He’s out checking the grounds,” says Forrest.
Shit. I wish he were here to wrap himself around me. To pull me into his bulk. To cradle me in lilacs. Next best thing? Wash away the horrors. I walk toward the house. “I almost died several times in that weird world, so I’m going to take a shower, and when Vasily is back, I’ll meet you all in the lounge.”
“Candy?” calls Cedar.
I pause midstride, holding my breath, my body rigid.
“She’s still there,” says Arch. After a collective gasp, he adds, “It’s not Amaya’s fault. We’ll get her back.”
I throw him a tight smile over my shoulder.
“But how did Candy even travel with Amaya to Tara in the first place?” asks Cedar. “She’s bound to Vasily.”
And there it is, confirmation from the warlocks that Vasily truly is the king. Candy had already told me so in Tara, but until they confirmed it, I could let myself doubt.
“We’ll have to ask him,” says Bodhi. “It must have something to do with Amaya.”
“Then how did she get stuck in Tara without either one of them?” asks Cedar.
The men collectively shrug, but I keep walking up to the house. The men’s conversation fades once I’m inside. A low whistle draws my attention but I’m alone. Or am I? “Sabin?”
“Here,” the humorless sylph calls out.
“Have a look around. I’m going to shower and I do not want company. Understood?”
“Yes.” There’s a shift in the air as he moves off and I continue upstairs to my room.
Upon entering, my neck swivels. Who made my bed and cleaned up if Candy was with me in Tara? Did they hire someone else, another hottie to replace her? I hope not. Candy’s starting to grow on me.
Peeling off my clothes and jumping into a hot shower is amazing. Even more so when I find my shower has been stocked with some body soap that smells of honeysuckle and thyme. At home in my element, I do what most people do in the shower. Sing! Finishing the opera and beginning anew. After lathering and rinsing twice, I wash my hair too with a new shampoo for frizzy hair, as well as a leave-in conditioner. Someone thought of everything. But who?
I’m barely toweled dry when a cold breeze nips at my bare flesh. I yank the large, plush towel over myself and glare in the direction of the gust. “You had better not be in this bathroom right now, Sabin.”
“Why not?” says my disembodied stalker.
“A little thing called privacy.”
“Privacy?”
“I don’t have the time or the patience to teach you manners right now so I’ll say this nicely. Fuck off.”
The gust is so strong it lifts my damp hair off my back, and then he’s gone. Good. He may have helped me get back here, but I haven’t forgotten that the little perv magically roofied me. He doesn’t understand basic manners, privacy, chivalry, humor or sarcasm, so who knows how he interpreted my colorful dismissal.
Whatever. I’ve got much bigger things to deal with right now. Like figuring out what’s really happening, wrapping my head around my part in all of it and formulating a plan to save Candy. Now that I’ve thrown off my Tara-induced panic attack, there’s not a moment to spare to think about my feelings for the men or to deal with my impending eviction. I can throw my hands up in the air and go hide in bed for a week, but despite how I acted in Tara—poor Candy—that’s not how I usually handle strife. No, I will find out exactly what the hell is going on.
Blood or Silence
“Look at you.” Bodhi eyes me when I enter the lounge.
Showers really have a magic all their own. I’m feeling much more myself, having washed away the fear and uncertainty of my visit to Tara. I guess it shows. Though I’m still reeling with guilt for leaving Candy behind, I’m at least outwardly calm again.
Vasily points to a chair, which seems rather silly since it’s the only seat not currently taken. “I’m glad you’re back. I’m relieved that you’re not hurt, and I want to thank you for opening the way there.”
“I didn’t have much choice.” My voice comes out harsher than I intended. “If you knew this was not only a possibility but a probability, why didn’t anyone warn me?”
All eyes turn to Vasily, who rests his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers. “My apologies. There are rules, for one thing, rules that prevent us from speaking of Tara with outsiders, not without invoking dire consequences. The royal family cast an enchantment across all Tara’s subjects generations ago, forbidding them to reveal Tara’s existence to outsiders. The spell was cast on their subjects’ blood so it would follow the bloodlines of each new generation. To speak of Tara, of our race or even of our powers to those who don’t already know about us is to call down a curse upon our very cells. It was one of the many safeguards we thought would keep the realm safe from outsiders. After all, how could anyone breach that which is unknown to them?”
His voice turns bitter at the end, his face screwed up in a hard, angry smile. I have to fight the urge to get up and go to him, so palpable is his self-disgust. But I sit on my hands—for once, he’s opening up. No way am I going to risk stopping the flow of information now.
After a moment, he continues. “But also, we really didn’t know if it would work. We tried it before with two others we thought might have a trace of your powers, and it failed. The spell, as I understand it, should have sent me to Tara, not you. Or at the very least, me with you.”
“I see.” I guess. It helps to know they weren’t being callous with my safety for no reason, but their reticence before now still chafes. And the coded looks the men exchange at my less-than-pleased response don’t help. They better not even think about holding back now.
The room explodes into a flurry of wind that tumbles everything not nailed down into the air. I shriek and jump to my feet with the rest of the men as items swirl around the room in the indoor tornado.
“What’s going on?” yells Arch over the noise.
“Sabin,” I yell, “stop!”
“Sabin?” Vasily, I realize, is the only calm one of the bunch, his hands on his hips and a crooked smile across his face.
The items flying around crash to the ground as the wind contracts around Vasily, whipping his hair and clothes away from his body.
“King!” Sabin’s voice rings out.
Vasily’s laughter fills the room. “I’m thrilled to see you too, but can you please tone down your excitement?”
Immediately, all the blustering stops.
“How is it that the sylph came back with Amaya but Candy did not?” Cedar asks.
“I suspect proximity,” says Vasily.
“I’d think that as the king, you’d know a little bit more about how things work between the realms,” grumbles Cedar.
“So you couldn’t tell me that you’re the king?” I can’t wait a moment longer.
Vasily turns his head toward me, the reluctant movement no doubt a reaction to my harsh tone. “I wish I could have, but it’s a law we cannot break. The royal family did not exclude itself from the spell when they cast it. They were not hypocrites.” The silence in the room is deep and wide.
My mouth pulls tight as I eye the others. It sounds like everyone is collectively holding their breaths. “So what’s your excuse?” I gesture toward the brothers.
“We, too, are bound to silence,” says Bodhi. “I’m sorry, Amaya, we wanted to tell you, but the blood of the Taran fae runs within our veins as well. Long ago, before they stopped visiting Earth, one of our ancestors married a fae.”
“And that was possible because warlocks have always known about the fae?”
“Yes. Our ancestors are the ones who helped the ancient fae craft the spell. We’ve always worked together with the fae.”
“As a team?” I like the sound of that, and the idea that there was a bridge between the human world and Tara.
Bodhi inclines his head. “As elemental warlocks with fae ancestry, we’re born to protect both realms.”
“So what would have happened if you had told me?”
“Vasily would have been stuck here on this plane forever.”
“And stripped of my rights as a fae, which means I would lose my powers and my wings, and I would age as a human does.”
Okay, those are certainly dire consequences, but— “I have a lot more questions.”
“Can we sit?” Vasily gestures to a couch. “I will answer what I can.”
I perch on the edge and the king sits across from me. The others fill in the rest of the seating.
I know this may not be the most important issue at hand, but it’s been bugging me. And I want to know right now if this newfound openness is for real. “Why do you need to drink blood?”
“You drink blood?” Sabin howls.
“Ah, yes.” Vasily tilts his head. “First, you need to know that I’m a young king, inexperienced. I may not have all the answers you seek. This is my first time in this realm. My first time leaving Tara. When I arrived, I tried to eat human food, but it doesn’t sustain me.”
“Like when a vampire eats food? All empty calories, and you get fat?”
He shakes his head. “Not exactly. It doesn’t do anything to me at all. It’s like eating air. I get no sustenance. After ten days of eating here, I was starving.”
“We tried everything,” says Arch.
“Blood was a surprise,” adds Cedar, “after he’d gone close to two weeks without food.”
“I accidentally cut myself.” Forrest cradles his index finger.
“He’s not allowed in the kitchen, but he snuck in anyway,” says Bodhi.
I hold up a hand. “Why isn’t he allowed in the kitchen?”
“I’m a hemophiliac.”
“Geez.” I shake my head. Poor Forrest. “That’s awful, but now I’m kind of dying to know how your blood ended up in Vasily’s mouth.”
The king laughs. “Forrest ran out of the kitchen clutching his finger. At first, I thought perhaps something in my saliva could coagulate his wound, but soon the grumbling in my stomach overrode all thought.”
“He looked at my bleeding finger like it was food.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “So you drink from the guys? Then why drink from me or go to Ichor?”
Vasily leans back. “The men and I are deeply connected, on a biological level as we’ve told you, and maybe that’s why, but their blood doesn’t fill me up. From them, I need a lot more of it and I need it more often. I first went to Ichor to see if human blood could be a substitute.”
“And it is. Human blood sustains him for much longer,” says Forrest.
“Thankfully,” adds Cedar. “We were getting pretty iron deficient.”
I giggle and cover my mouth.
“There are a few things you need to know about us.” Vasily motions to the warlocks. “They use a type of elemental magic that only works when they have a connection to Tara.”
“We’re elemental warlocks,” says Bodhi.
I cock my head, willing them to explain further. “I’ve heard of that but I’m not sure I fully understand what it means.” For once, I don’t think it’s my human isolation responsible for my ignorance, not with the fae curse around.
“We use fae magic,” says Cedar. “In conjunction with a birthed connection to a strong Earth element.”
“In our case, the connection happens to be with specific trees.” Bodhi’s attention is pulled to the window.
Now their tableaus make some sense. “Okay,” I say, “and?”
“And when Vasily came through to our dimension, we lost our powers,” says Bodhi.
“But why?”
“The doorway closed behind him.”
“Slammed shut,” Cedar adds. “We’re still linked to our earth elements, but without the fairy connection, the circuit remains open.”
“Until you.” Forrest catches my eye, smiling broadly. “I warned you how special you are.”
I toss my curls. “Am I the only—what did you call it? Synergist?”
“No,” says Vasily, “but there aren’t many. Usually only half a dozen or so walk the Earth at any time, and they’ve always been witches or warlocks who also work with elemental magic.”
“Until you.” Bodhi’s eyes glint in the sunlight filtering through the large windows. His focus—all the men’s focus—is suddenly intense, palpable. I pull the loose-fitting cotton blouse away and fan myself.
“I can sense a synergist,” says Vasily. “We’re connected by the energy we share. I’ve been visiting other planes, other worlds for years now, searching for one, though the odds of one so far from Tara having the right energy were slim. I came back to Earth every few years, hoping one might have been born here while I was gone. The last time I crossed dimensions, at last I felt it. I felt you. You’re what drew me to Distant Edge.”
“How long ago did this happen? And why did you wait days to tell me all of this?”
“We apologize.” Vasily gets up and sits in the empty spot next to me. He takes my hands in his. “I had to be sure. And I couldn’t tell you who I was or where I came from. How could you believe the rest without that information first? I had to trust that all of this would unfold in the right time, and as a fae king in exile, I’m very good at waiting.”
I eye the others. “Have you all always known that Vasily is the king?”
“As soon as we met, we knew.” Arch stands up and crosses to the windows, looking out. “As elemental warlocks, we’ve traveled between the worlds since we were old enough to walk.”
Cedar laughs. “And even though Vasily looks different in Tara than he does here, there’s still no mistaking him.”
“But . . .” I turn around, looking for Sabin. Oh right, he’s invisible. “Sabin told me that no one could enter Tara.”
“No creature from any other world, but since technically Tara is on Earth, there’s always been a doorway between our worlds,” says Vasily. “Those from other worlds can’t enter.”
“Plus, we have Taran blood flowing in our veins. It’s like having a passport for two countries. You’re welcome in each.” Cedar winks at me.
“Nothing from another world can enter Tara, but neither can anything that’s been exiled from there.” Arch crosses his thick arms over his broad chest.
Distraction much? I will myself to look away.
“Until the fachan,” echoes Sabin.
Vasily looks toward the window.
“A fachan is a type of fae,” says Bodhi, “and they’re usually regarded as chaos demons, but Azotar never used its powers nefariously.”
“Then why was it exiled?”
“Archaic beliefs,” grumbles Vasily.
Bodhi sighs. “After it was banished, Azotar got pissed, and since fachan are known as the destroyer of worlds, when it found a way back into Tara, it enacted a terrible vengeance.”
A sound escapes Vasily, something bleak, like a cross between a sob and a laugh. “It reverted to its true nature, creating dissention and chaos.”
“Setting a plan in motion for Tara to destroy itself,” says Bodhi.
I jump off the couch. “Then no one there is safe, including Candy.”
Vasily reaches for me and I let him pull me back down. “Azotar has her locked up, using her as bait to draw the rightful ruler back. Me. He can’t fully destroy Tara until he kills me.”
“So there are two choices?” I push my leg into Vasily’s. “Kill Azotar or banish it again?”
“There’s a third.” Sabin rushes around the room, knocking pillows off the couches. “Accept Azotar back into Tara. Forgive it its trespasses. End the discrimination that was its reason for exile.”
“I wish it were that easy.” Vasily places a hand on my leg.
“Why isn’t it?” Sabin lifts everyone’s hair, and Forrest’s, being the longest, swirls around his face like a cloud. “We just have to figure out how it got back in and work backward from there. If Azotar was allowed to return, surely there’s a way it can stay.”
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br /> Cedar scoffs. “Without destroying the king, all the inhabitants and the land itself? Seems unlikely.”
I place my hand on top of Vasily’s and squeeze.
“Let’s not talk about Azotar anymore.” Vasily shifts his eyes to the floor, his hand limp in my grasp.
Weird. What’s he hiding? Maybe the subject of losing his throne and his world to a monster is too painful for him. Though it sounds like maybe the monster had its reasons.
Vasily turns his hand over and squeezes mine briefly before letting go. He rises and crosses to the window to stand next to Arch. Obviously time to change the subject.
“So. Who’s Candy then, and why did she come here with you?” I look at Vasily’s back. He doesn’t turn around. “Is she, like, your groupie or something?”
Arch snickers and faces me. “She’s not a groupie. She’s bound to him, which is why Azotar is holding her I’m sure. Using her as a lure to get Vasily back to Tara so it can kill him.”
Shit, a catch-22, great. Well that settles it, he can’t go back for her, so I have to. I rub my temples, ignoring the little ache in my heart. How can I ever be with Vasily if another woman is bound to him forever? A woman only I can save? He never showed any interest in her, that’s been clear all along. If anything, he’s treated her like a younger sister. Or a slave. I bristle. Is she his slave? Oh, hell no. As a person of color, surely he can see how disgusting that is. But he’s not of this world, I remind myself. Still, anyone can see how morally reprehensible slavery is, in any form and in any land. Anyone not evil, anyway.
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. I shouldn’t jump to any conclusions. The men have shown me nothing but kindness. Calm, Amaya, calm. “Bound to him how?”
Vasily stiffens in front of the window. “As we’ve mentioned before, some of the laws in Tara are archaic.”
“A fucking understatement,” Arch snarls. “They need to be changed.”
“Yes, well, one thing at a time, no?” Vasily says.
No time to pussyfoot around. If these men are slavers, best to find out now. “So, is she your house slave then?” My jaw is clenched tight in an effort to keep my tone even. I don’t want to sway them into saying what they think will appease me.