by E.J. Stevens
“You are exhausted,” Ceff said, brow wrinkling. “Rest here. I will keep first watch.”
“But my father’s court…” I said, words cut off by another yawn.
“Will still be there tomorrow,” Torn said.
“Plus, I can scout ahead while you sleep,” Ceff said. “We will make better progress if we are rested and certain of the path ahead.”
“Fine,” I said, eyes fluttering closed. “But just a quick nap.”
The last thing I saw before losing myself to the darkness of sleep, was a cloud of wisps hovering over me, lending me their warmth…and their power.
Chapter 25
“What the…?” I said with a grunt.
The white hot pain returned, and I lost the ability to speak. I was reduced to the primal drives of fight or flight—and to remove whatever was sending burning spikes of pain on either side of my spine.
I clawed at my back, trying to dislodge whatever sharp object I’d been pierced with, but my gloved hands met only the smooth surface of my leather jacket.
“Princess?” Torn asked, moving into my field of vision. His face swam before me, and for a split second I wondered if I might puke on his boots. It would serve him right for staring at me like I was a cat toy on a string. “You don’t look so good.”
“You think?” I snapped, struggling to find the source of the pain and only managing to contort my arms painfully behind my back . “How about a little help here?”
“And what, pray tell, would I be helping with?” he asked, flashing me a look that said he clearly thought I was deranged. That was rich, coming from the lord of the cat sidhe.
I struggled to make sense of the situation. We’d made camp shortly after crossing the poisonous bog. Ceff had gone off to scout ahead, and to guard the perimeter, while Torn had stayed here with me. I’d fallen into a coma-like sleep, but woke feeling refreshed. Heck, I was better than refreshed, my body tingled with energy.
I was pacing the mossy embankment like a caffeinated pookah when I’d been stabbed in the back. But that didn’t make sense. I hadn’t seen or heard my attacker, and obviously neither had Torn, judging by his smirk.
“If this is a ruse to get me to rub your back, we can skip the theatrics,” he said, crossing his arms. “We both know what you really want.”
Oberon’s eyes, Torn thought I was asking for a back rub, with all that that implied.
“What I want is for you to…” I said, through clenched teeth.
I gasped at another jolt of pain. Sweat broke out on my forehead, immediately running into my eyes. I blinked, and when I opened my eyes again, I was on my knees. I continued to claw at my back, but I couldn’t find the source of the pain, not with my gloves on.
Torn slid onto all fours, making the pose appear both graceful and sensual as he brought his face once again close to mine. I was guessing that unlike me, he wasn’t suffering from bruised kneecaps.
“Ah, Princess,” he said, a slow smile building on his lips. “Panting and on your knees…have you finally succumbed to my charm? It did take you an awfully long time, but I’m willing to forgive you—after a good spanking or two.”
“Torn, you arrogant…bastard…help me remove whatever’s stabbing…me…in…the…back,” I said.
I gave up trying to reach my back, and placed my gloved hands flat on the ground, leveling my most terrifying glare at Torn. It was a look that said, “When this is done, I will kill you,” and not, “Hey, baby, I’m in the mood for cat sidhe sexy times.”
Torn tilted his head to the side, and slunk around me with feline grace. I had to fight to remain still, especially when his leather clad ass was positioned inches from my face for what seemed an eternity, but eventually he completed his circuit and came to a stop in front of me, sitting on his haunches.
“There’s nothing sticking out of your back, Princess,” he said, eyebrow raised. “Are you sure this isn’t some twisted sort of trick to get me to check out your butt?” His slit pupils widened, almost appearing human, as he leaned closer. “I like twisted.”
“I’m going…to skin…you alive…and turn…you into…slippers,” I said.
“I’d like to see…”
The rest of Torn’s witty rejoinder was cut off as his head slammed into the ground, six feet away. I blinked, my brain trying to catch up with this turn of events. I took a deep breath, struggling to grab my blades and fight—had my attacker returned?—but I froze as I recognized my boyfriend’s profile.
“What did you do to Ivy?” Ceff asked, slamming Torn’s head against the ground one more time before stepping away.
Ceff’s fists opened and closed as his chest heaved, nostrils flaring. Veins protruded from his neck, and his eyes had gone black as a stormy night.
“Nothing, Fish Breath, though the night is young,” Torn said, dusting himself off. He flashed me a wink, and I sighed.
“Ceff,” I said. “Don’t let Torn get to you. He’s not worth it.”
I slid my knives back into their wrist sheathes, but when I tried to stand, I was once again wracked with a wave of pain.
“Mab’s bloody bones on a gods damned stick,” I hissed.
“Where are you hurt?” Ceff asked.
“My back,” I said. “Either side of my thoracic spine. Both shoulder blades.”
He ran his fingers over my leather jacket, and I let out a low moan. My hands fisted in the bog moss, and I clamped my jaw shut against a scream.
“I see nothing,” he said.
“Um, Princess?” Torn asked. “I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.”
“Spit it out, Torn,” I said.
“Take your jacket and shirt off,” he said.
“Bite me,” I hissed through clenched teeth.
“Back off, cat,” Ceff said, moving between me and Torn at lightning speed.
“Think, Ivy,” Torn said, ignoring my overprotective boyfriend, and maneuvering back into my line of sight. “What do you know about wisps?”
I tried to think, but it was impossible to focus through the pain.
“If you know something, say it now,” Ceff said.
I took a shaky breath, watching Torn shrug as Ceff’s trident suddenly appeared inches from his face. The cat sidhe pushed the weapon away with the tips of his fingers, but kept his eyes on mine.
I swallowed hard, a rush of heat making my skin burn.
“Wisps glow,” I said, breath ragged.
“Yes, and?” Torn asked.
“Wisps…fly,” I said.
He nodded, watching me like I was a tasty mouse.
“And how do you suppose they fly?” he asked.
“Wisps…wisps…” I said, voice breaking off in a strangled cry.
“Wisps have wings,” Ceff said.
He took a step back, face going pale.
“Wondered when you two would figure it out,” Torn said. “Now take off that jacket before I have to cut it off.”
I growled at Torn, partly over the threat to my clurichaun crafted jacket, and partly due to the pain that was coming now in near constant waves.
“Ceff?” I asked.
But when I looked up, expecting his strong hands to help me, he hadn’t moved. He stood with eyes wide, as if rooted to the spot. Wisps have wings.
A familiar fear crept to the surface, one that I’d stifled over the past few months. Doubt gnawed at old insecurities, taking advantage of my pain and confusion. My hands fisted in the moss as I fought to quiet the tiny voice inside my skull that whispered that it was no wonder my father had abandoned me, my mother and stepfather avoided me, my schoolmates taunted me. I was unworthy of love.
I was a monster.
My cheeks burned, and I wished that I could run away, be alone. I didn’t want my friends to see this ugly side of me, the part of me that I’d always feared would one day take over. Even before I knew about my fae blood, I’d known that I was different.
I’d come here hoping for answers that would bring me cl
oser to my father, closer to having the family that I’d lost. I’d come here looking for a way to control my wisp powers, so that I could create a glamour and hide my otherness from the world. I’d wanted to play at being a happy, normal human.
I’d been a fool.
“Get out of the way you imbeciles!”
A man appeared at the top of the embankment. I don’t know how long he’d been standing there. I wasn’t exactly at my best.
But I should have noticed such a force of raw power. The man stood tall and slender, all lean muscle beneath his calf skin boots and flowing robes. Pale, pointed ears poked through long, straight hair the shade of burning cities. He was at once familiar, and yet I had never met this man before. That made his next words all the more shocking.
“Unhand my niece.”
Chapter 26
I have an uncle. The thought danced through my head, ebbing and flowing with the increasingly frequent waves of pain, but managing through it all to stay afloat. Beyond the pain, I could think of nothing else.
I should have noticed the family resemblance as soon as I set eyes on the man, but in my defense, I felt like goblins had climbed inside my skin and proceeded to poke me with burning brands from the inside out. I wiped tears and sweat from my eyes, squinting at the man in a rare moment of respite.
With the pale skin and flame red hair, it would have been easy to mistake my uncle for my father at first glance, but where my father had kind eyes, my uncle seemed impervious to emotion. I’d met stones that were more stoic than this man.
“I bet he’d make a mint at poker,” Torn whispered.
I tried to picture this elegant man in his white knee breaches and flowing spider silk robes sitting at a card table playing Texas hold’em, and snickered. At least, I snickered inwardly. To everyone else, it came out like a whimper.
“This is Ivy Granger, daughter of Will-o-the-Wisp, princess to the wisp court, and my consort,” Ceff said.
“Yes, I know that she is the lost princess,” my uncle said. “I would recognize that face anywhere. She bears an uncanny resemblance to her parents, and, of course, she has my brother’s eyes.”
Eyes that were currently glowing like the sun.
“Then can you help her?” Ceff asked.
He’d moved in to protect me, with one hand on my shoulder, and the other on the handle of his trident.
“Of course, but the cat sidhe is right,” my uncle said. “You must strip her of her garments, or they will impede the transformation.”
“No one is stripping me of anything,” I said, biting out the words.
I shook off Ceff’s protective hand, bit the inside of my cheek, and pulled off my leather jacket, one arm at a time.
“She does’na like to be touched,” Skilly said, shaking his head.
“Interesting,” my uncle said, his auburn brows lifting toward the slender crown that banded his forehead.
Panting with the effort, I struggled to remove the stretchy black shirts that clung to my sweaty skin like a wet bathing suit. I left the sports bra where it was. No matter what was going on, there was no way I was getting naked in front of Torn.
Head spinning, my hand went to the utility belt at my waist that held most of my charms. I’d kept my wrist sheaths on, which meant I still had my throwing knives handy, and a dagger in each boot, but being without my charms would make me vulnerable, which was saying a lot considering that I was shirtless and on my knees wracked with pain.
I narrowed my eyes at the man who so resembled my father. He was watching with the intensity of a raptor, prepared to strike at any moment. This man may look familiar, but if he’d resided in Faerie all these years, I didn’t doubt that he had the equivalent of a razor sharp beak and claws—and knew how to use them.
“How do I know that you’re my uncle?” I asked. “I don’t even know your name.”
His lips pressed into a hard line, but he waved his hand.
“We don’t have time for this,” he said.
As if to prove the validity of his claim, my shoulders contorted, the muscles in my back writhing beneath the skin. A tear escaped to fall onto the mossy ground.
I’d been prepared to face monsters. Not once had I suspected that my own body would betray me.
“Tell her your name,” Ceff said.
He used the tone he normally reserved for dealing with petulant subjects who’d brought their quarrels before him at court. Ceff was a king, and when he put that edge of power into his voice, he expected to be obeyed. My uncle frowned, glancing away from me to give Ceff a closer look.
“I have many names, but you can call me Kade,” he said. “Now stop wasting time, and grab one of those knives. If I am to believe that this is truly her first transformation, then she will need assistance. Someone will need to cut through the skin about a hand’s width from either side of the spine.”
“No,” I snarled, sweat rolling down my face.
“You are wing bound,” he said. “Do you know what that means?”
“No…and I don’t care,” I said.
“You will care when your wings carve a reverse path through your chest cavity, slicing your heart and lungs to bloody ribbons,” he said. “Now stop acting like a child.”
“I’m not a child,” I said petulantly, stomach clenching.
My blades had drawn a lot of blood. If they touched my skin, I’d be in for more than surgery at the hands of my friends. I’d be sucked into a round of visions that I didn’t know if I could pull myself out of.
“Obviously, though I do have to wonder how you have managed to reach maturity without ever having completed the change,” he said, head tilted to the side. “Why has no one ever taught you these things? And physically…how are you so…stunted? Developmentally, you are no more advanced than an infant.”
Gee, thanks, uncle. Nothing like kicking a girl when she’s down.
“She was raised in the human world,” Ceff said.
“Being raised in the human world explains some things,” Kade said, his eyes on me. “For one, that you are still alive. Someone with your lack of skills would never have survived this long in Faerie. But what I truly do not understand is why your father never taught you any of this.”
“He left me,” I said.
I gasped, my chest tightening.
“Fine, we will continue this discussion later,” he said. “Now, who will cut her, or do I need to do it?”
He grimaced, and I could tell that family connection or not, my uncle did not want to touch the lowly half breed. I waited for Ceff to come forward, but he’d backed away again. He stood watching me, face an impenetrable mask.
“I’ll do it,” Torn said.
My eyes widened, but I shook my head.
“You are not touching me,” I said.
“I won’t use the blades,” he said. “I don’t think you can handle a vision right now. For that reason, I’ll be careful not to touch skin to skin—though for the record, you’re missing out.”
“What’ll you use then?” I asked.
“These,” he said, extending razor sharp claws. “My body builds a new layer of carotin every time they retract. It helps to keep them sharp and strong. It also means that touching you with them shouldn’t induce a vision.”
Normally, I’d be intrigued by Torn revealing the inner workings of cat sidhe claw physiology, but not today. All I cared about was that he’d considered the risk of visions, and deemed his claws to be my best bet. My eyes widened as I realized that was good enough for me.
“Do it,” I said with a nod.
“Ivy,” Ceff said. “Bite down on this.”
He was pointing to one of the wooden stakes thrust through my utility belt. I’d carved and sanded them myself, and they’d never been used. I reached for my belt, grabbed the stake with shaking hands, and bit down.
“You ready, Princess?” Torn asked.
I nodded. Ready as I’ll ever be. Two lines of heat welled on either side of my spine as Torn
raked his claws down my back.
“Now what?” Torn asked.
“Now she must complete the transformation, or die,” Kade said.
My gloved hands fisted in the moss as I tried to focus on pushing wings through the cuts Torn had opened in my back. I’m pretty sure that all I did was give myself heartburn. I shook my head, and moaned.
“She’s dying,” Ceff said. “Help her.”
“We’ve done what we can—now she must help herself,” Kade said.
“But she doesn’t know how,” Torn hissed.
“It is not that complicated,” Kade said with a sigh. My uncle’s face came into view as he crouched before me. “Listen, you must focus on releasing your wings. It is like breathing, or stretching your arms. You are a wisp, so be a wisp.”
Oh yeah, that was helpful.
“Come on, lass,” Skillywidden said. “Ye can do this with yer hands tied. It’s just like ridin’ a cat.”
The thought of Skilly riding around on Torn’s back was enough to distract me momentarily from my pain. But that was all I needed. My body relaxed, allowing the muscles in my upper back and neck to ease, and I focused on my breathing.
Come on, Ivy. Skilly’s right. You can do this.
“Yes, draw your power inside with each breath,” Kade said. “On the exhale, release your wings.”
I did as he said. I breathed in through my nose, drawing power from Faerie and the nearby wisps as I inhaled, and felt the stirring of something in my chest. I focused on my upper back, sending the heat of my power there. Teeth digging into the wooden stake, I let out a primal scream.
Pain exploded inside my ribs, nearly knocking me out, but I held on. I forced my magic to pour through the openings in my back, and, to my surprise, they did. A strange, new part of me reached to the sky, and unfurled. Blood, my blood, rained down on my back and the side of my face, and I sighed.
The muscles in my back and neck throbbed as the final spasms wracked my body, but the worst of the pain was gone, replaced by a dizzying euphoria. I spit the wooden stake from my mouth, and took a steadying breath.
