by Quinn Loftis
“Maybe you aren’t supposed to move on in the traditional sense,” Peri said, her voice grave. “Maybe the wound needs to stay fresh in order for you to function. Some injuries never heal correctly, Lilly. Some wounds become infected and fester. Perhaps Cypher’s appearance is like the application of alcohol to your wound. It burns like hell, but it keeps out the infection.”
Lilly wasn’t sure what to say to that. She’d been hoping Peri was going to give her some profound insight like “perhaps this was the Great Luna’s way of letting her know that Cypher wasn’t gone for good. Maybe she’d get him back,” or some other cathartic delusion that Lilly knew wasn’t really true.
“Don’t get that look, queenie,” Peri warned, shaking her head. “The Great Luna can bring back whomever she wishes. We’ve seen it done. But it's on her terms. She is the Creator, and we are the created. And everything she does is always for our best interest, even if we don’t see it. I don’t know why she allowed Sally to come back, or Jen. And Jen wasn’t even really allowed back. There was a payment due for that life. Regardless, you can ask, but you have to understand that sometimes the answer is still no, regardless of how bad we want it to be yes.”
Finally, Lilly nodded. Remarkably, she still had tears left inside of her, and they filled her eyes now. “I just miss him so damn much.”
Peri’s own eyes filled. She wrapped her arms around Lilly and pulled her into a tight hug. “I know, Lilly. More than you realize, I, above everyone, know exactly how you feel.”
The mom in Lilly rose to the surface. Even though Perizada could be Lilly’s great, great something a thousand times over, she couldn’t help but want to comfort the woman who was hurting over the loss of two people she’d loved. And Lilly didn’t even think Peri had realized how much Alina and Vasile had come to mean to her. She hugged the high fae tighter. “For a crazy chick, I’m going to be the voice of reason,” she said. “You’ve got to let yourself grieve, Peri. If you hold it all in now, eventually it will come out. When it finally does, what I’ve been through will look like a two-year-old throwing a small tantrum in comparison.”
Peri nodded against her shoulder, and Lilly heard the fae sniffle. “When you live as long as I have, you think you’ve built sufficient walls to keep pain like this from happening.” Peri released Lilly and stepped back. The fae wiped at her eyes as her lips drew against her face. She looked tired, as if a small breeze would blow her over. “They just seemed invincible. You know?”
“Yes.” Lilly huffed a small laugh. “I completely understand that sentiment. I thought nothing could bring Cypher down.”
“Vasile and Alina had fought so many battles. So many. And they’ve been injured before. They’ve been near death, but they’ve always escaped. They’ve always fought their way back. But this time, there was no fighting. There was nothing anyone could do, nothing I could do.” Her voice wavered, but she kept going, and Lilly wasn’t about to interrupt her. This was clearly something the high fae needed to get out. She needed to excise the dark thoughts.
“I just stood there. Alina’s eyes met mine, and though there were tears on her cheeks, she didn’t look afraid. She looked victorious, as if she knew something our enemy did not. That somehow, ripping out her heart was not the victory they thought it was going to be. But how can that be true?” Peri shook her head and lowered her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her shoulders shook, and she seemed to let go of her unflappable composure. “They ripped out her heart, and by doing so, they left a gaping hole in the rest of us. How is that not a victory? I wish I had five minutes with Alina to ask her what she knew, what secret she held in her heart to be able to stand there so defiantly, so faithfully, as death roared like an enraged lion in her face. She didn’t waver, not for a second. There was no regret in her eyes, no anger. She faced it more bravely and with more dignity than I have ever seen.” Peri looked back up at Lilly. Tears slowly ran down each cheek. “So, why can’t I feel her victory? Why can’t I say like she did, ‘O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is your victory?’”
Lilly’s brow rose. “She has you quoting the Holy Bible?”
Peri sniffled. “Grief will turn your eyes to strange places, especially when you’re staring into the face of someone who is being murdered in battle and doesn’t seem to think the enemy is winning.”
Lilly didn’t see Alina die. It was bad enough seeing her mate, and she hadn’t been staring at his eyes when death had struck him. She couldn’t imagine the emotions Peri must have felt at that moment, as her friend was killed while still raising the battle cry.
The two women stood in silence, looking at one another as if hoping the other would come up with a profound solution to their grief, but there was none. There was just pain and loss. And they both knew only time would begin to dim the sting, though Lilly doubted it would ever be gone completely.
“Is it just me, or was it really weird for my ex and his mate to show up here?” Lilly finally said when she couldn’t stand the silence any longer.
“Yeah, that was crazy,” Peri said. She walked over to the couch and slumped down onto it. “I totally told them it was a bad idea, but St. Tanya was determined.”
Lilly sat down next to her and tilted her head. “Why do I have a very strong suspicion that you said nothing of the sort?”
Peri touched her nose. “Because you’re a queen, and queens can smell lies.”
“No, that’s moms. And I’m most definitely a mom.”
“I told you, Lil, they’re one in the same. And you’ve made one hell of a mom. I’ve no doubt you’re going to make one hell of a queen.”
Chapter 8
“I’ve learned many lessons in the human realm. First, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, every realm should have cotton candy. Its mere presence would likely cease all wars and hostilities within a matter of days. Second, after you’ve stolen the magic of another, you can’t expect it to be as loyal to you as it was to its first owner. Third, kidnapping prisoners out of a human prison, when accompanied by a fae with mind-control abilities, is not even a little fun. I didn’t get to blow anything up, knock anyone out, or cause the slightest bit of mayhem.” ~Myanin
“If we can snag ten more prisoners here, that will make an even hundred,” Tenia said. She and Myanin stood outside of yet another human prison. The djinn was nauseous. The evil that permeated the air of these buildings disgusted her. Why do you find it so offensive? asked the soft voice that seemed ever-present and had been nagging her continually—asleep or awake, it didn’t matter. If you were human, this is where you would be for the crime you have committed. Myanin took a slow deep breath and then let it out just as slowly. She was losing her damn mind. She’d thought there’d been a hole inside of her when Thad had rejected her. But she was beginning to realize that was simply the tiny end of a needle. The void growing in her since she’d left her realm seemed to be the size of her fist, and it was getting larger every second.
What surprised her was that as Lyra’s power continually bombarded her with the reminder that it didn’t belong to her, she was also realizing that their djinn power wasn’t just to keep history. It also served as a moral compass. Or at least that seemed to be how it was affecting her. Maybe it was because she’d used magic that had been intended for good for her own gain? All beings, supernatural or not, are capable of evil. Our race is no different, but because we preserve history and we see what corruption does, we have been able to keep from repeating others’ mistakes, Lyra’s voice explained. For once it wasn’t condemning or questioning. Why? Why was the woman she’d killed speaking to her kindly, as if she were simply a pupil and not a murderer?
Do you not see the grace you received from us? Lyra asked. You stand before the human prison and yet you lived in my home, despite the century of pain you caused two people. Was your anger righteous in its wrath?
She didn’t want to answer the question. The answer would only confirm her deserved condemnation. Myanin didn’t wan
t that. She wanted—she needed—something.
“Myanin?” Tenia’s voice reached out to her.
“I’m sorry, what?” Myanin said, shaking herself out of her own mind.
“You ready?”
Myanin nodded. “Let’s get this over with. These places make me sick.”
“They’re like black holes,” Tenia said, not realizing her words were an adequate description of what was currently growing inside of Myanin.
Nine prisoners had been walked, quite effortlessly thanks to Tenia’s unique ability, out of their cells and been told to follow, single file, until they received further instruction. The djinn and Tenia picked out a tenth and directed the guard to unlock his cell. The prisoner rose and followed Tenia, unblinking. As he stepped out of his cell, he turned and looked straight into Myanin’s eyes. His irises were solid black—no color where there should have been green, or blue, or brown like other humans. His penetrating gaze sent a chill down her spine.
“I see you,” he said. The prisoner’s voice made her think of a talking serpent. “I know what you’ve done. You belong here, with us. You’d like it in here. We’re like you. You wouldn’t feel so alone.”
“I am nothing like you,” Myanin spat at the man, if that’s what he was. The evil radiating from him made her wonder if she was actually parlaying with a demon.
He chuckled and leaned closer. “Keep telling yourself that. Maybe you’ll actually believe it. But I doubt it. They won’t let you forget.”
“Who?” Myanin asked before she could remind herself she shouldn’t talk to lunatics.
“Your victims. They stay with you. They have no peace.” He didn’t sound like the idea bothered him. He actually sounded gleeful about it. “They all want to know the same thing. Why?”
Myanin took a step back, and her lungs tightened. Why, Myanin? Lyra’s voice returned. Why did you do this? She noticed again that the tone of Lyra’s voice had changed. It was less condemning and more understanding which only gutted Myanin more.
“What do you tell them?” Myanin asked the prisoner. Why the hell can’t I keep my mouth shut?
Impossibly, his eyes seemed to grow even darker. “Because I could. Because they were weak, and I was not. Because I wanted to. Because, because, because,” he said, spittle flying from his lips. “Does the reason even matter?” Madness danced in his eyes as he laughed. His chuckle was gone in a flash, and he moved quickly, standing nose to nose with her. “Why did you do it?” he whispered. “Did someone make you feel weak? Did someone think they were better than you? Or did you just like the way it felt to know you had that power? The power to take life from another.”
Myanin pushed the repulsive man away. He stumbled back, the smile returning to his face. Tenia stepped in front of him. “Join the others in line. You want to come with us.”
“I do want to come with you,” he said, his voice rising a bit higher as he danced from foot to foot. “We’re going to have fun.” It wasn’t expressionless or monotone as the others had been.
Tenia narrowed her eyes on him, but when he fell in line with the others, she turned to Myanin. “You okay?”
Myanin swallowed down the bile. “Yes. Let’s just get these back to the Order and be done with it. I need some sleep.” She couldn’t help but wonder if she would find any rest in sleep. Maybe if she would just answer Lyra, if she’d just be honest with herself, then rest would come. The problem was being honest meant accepting what she truly was: a murderer.
“And cotton candy,” Tenia said, her eyes crinkling at the sides as she smiled.
Myanin snorted. “Definitely.”
Myanin stood with Tenia outside the Order compound. It had taken much longer than Myanin had expected. Tenia couldn’t hypnotize everyone that worked at the prison. Someone would inevitably notice missing prisoners. They’d learned after the first removal that, apparently, the escape of prisoners is an uncommon event among the humans, and it greatly disturbs them. Myanin marveled at this, since the security in those places was so pathetic. Still, they soon realized they would need to spread out their efforts, taking small groups of prisoners from different facilities here and there, rather than gathering them all at once. This made their job much slower, which annoyed her greatly.
“It’s all over the human news.” Ludcarab growled at the two females. They stood watching the other fae lead the soon-to-be-vamped humans into the complex. “Prisoners escaping without a trace. The theories being espoused are laughable. Alien abduction is the current consensus.”
“We left no evidence behind,” Tenia assured him. “Myanin took out all the video surveillance before we went in.”
“Why did it take so long?” Alston asked.
Myanin glanced at Tenia and then looked back at the two males attempting to intimidate them. “Because unlike you two, we don’t foolishly rush in without a plan. We researched our targets before we began and captured only the people the humans had classified as highly dangerous. We picked out those among them that would be easier to control. Not to mention there was only Tenia there to flash them.”
Tenia had worked her magic on every person they came in contact with, and when they’d made it to the warden, they’d requested permission to look at the files, which was quickly granted. Some crimes were disgusting, so disgusting Myanin had wanted to immediately find those prisoners and melt their brains inside their heads. She’d even managed to convince herself that their crimes were worse than her own, and weren’t they? Myanin hadn’t hurt a helpless child. That had to count for something. The darkness inside of her nodded relentlessly, agreeing with her, demanding that she was so much better than the likes of those who’d done more than simply poison a person. But Myanin had done more than poison a person. She’d taken a part of Lyra. Her mind was suddenly flashing back to that moment when she’d stared down at Lyra’s frozen form. No longer was she standing in the Order compound. Though she knew she wasn’t really gone. Her body was very much there, but her mind? Her mind was firmly planted in the past. A past she so desperately didn’t want to be her own.
Myanin had taken Lyra’s magic, something that was as much a part of the woman as her own blood and bones. Was that akin to rape? Holy shit! Her mind practically screamed as bile rose in her throat. She blinked and she was once again in the compound. She hadn’t fallen to the ground, and her head wasn’t pounding, so maybe it had only been a memory and not the magic of the historian. Even still, the realization of what she’d actually done, what it could be compared to, had her very nearly vomiting right there. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and pressed her hand to her mouth, attempting to look as if she was thinking and not about to lose the contents of her stomach. She tensed her muscles, trying to stave off the trembling she could feel beginning in her legs and working its way up her body. She had to get out of there.
Tenia glanced at her, and Myanin could see the concern in her eyes. Myanin remembered the way they’d both agreed that anyone who had harmed a child in any way and rapists would not be used. The fact that they were about to make vampires out of these people was bad enough. They didn’t want to make bloodsuckers that only preyed upon children or had some sick sexual perversion. But now she’d had this revelation about herself, and she couldn’t even justify the people they had chosen. Myanin was walking around free, as if she had a right to choose that for herself even as she chose for the prisoners they’d left behind that they were where they belonged.
She shook her head at Tenia hoping the fae would understand that she needed to go. She couldn’t stand there any longer.
“How many did you bring?” Ludcarab asked.
“There’s a hundred,” Tenia answered. “We can bring more later, but we haven’t been able to check in on our enemy. We took care of the vamp recruits first.” Tenia was curt but successfully sounded as if she was attempting to please the elf, but her shifting eyes glancing at Myanin made it clear she was just saying what she needed to in order to get them away from the place as
quickly as possible.
“You’ve done well,” Alston said, looking first at Myanin and then at Tenia.
“I would like to see him before we leave,” Tenia said. Myanin knew the fae was speaking of her child.
Alston nodded. “Excellent idea. You’ve been toeing the line so well, Tenia. I wouldn’t want you to forget why loyalty is important.”
Tenia gave her a quick look that was practically yelling at her to hold on. Myanin pulled on every ounce of self-control she’d been taught as a warrior, though she didn’t even know if she could trust that anymore.
The trio stood in awkward silence. Myanin wasn’t about to start a conversation with the elf king and high fae. She couldn’t see any benefit from engaging with them, especially when she was on the verge of losing her shit. She hated what she was seeing in herself. All she wanted to see now was the ugly in everyone else. If she opened her mouth she would simply provoke the elf king and his associates to prove herself right: that they were worse than her. When Myanin spoke, she apparently lacked a thing that Tenia called a filter, but she imagined at this point her lack of filter would end in a blood bath, and she had enough blood on her hands. Myanin hadn’t understood at the time what Tenia had meant. When the djinn had asked, Tenia had told her that Myanin just said whatever popped into her head. She’d informed Tenia that she actually only said half the things that popped into her head. The fae had not looked reassured. Myanin now understood Tenia’s concern.
A few minutes later, Tenia reappeared. For a brief second, Myanin saw joy on the fae’s face, but with a single blink, it was gone, replaced by a stony demeanor.
“We will expect to hear from you in no less than a week,” Alston said, reminding them of their boundaries. “That should be sufficient time for you to figure out what’s going on. The wolves are likely in disarray since Vasile, Alina, and Cypher have been taken out of the picture.”
