"Smoky knew the way back to the veil. She was, essentially, a feral child, raised in the woods. She knows all the secrets. She even knew where my family land was when no one else has a clue. And so we started back, only to be intercepted by Sal who Smoky has a, ah, history of sorts with. He spent some time in the human realm when he was younger, so he knew a bit more than Smoky or I did about getting around, how to get here. We had to take a ferry," he said, testing out the word. "And hang around the city for a day and a half."
"You trust them?"
There was a short pause, the kind that didn't exactly instill confidence. "Enough," he decided. "Enough that I think we will all be safe on our way back."
"Are they getting something in turn?"
"Smoky is. Though she has yet to tell me what that is."
Risky.
That was a risky move.
You never had any idea what a fae may ask of you. Maybe just a solid meal, maybe to help overthrow one of the Courts.
But those were worries for another day. There were plenty to hold us over for this one.
"What about Sal?"
"Think he just wanted an excuse to spend some time with Smoky. She's a bit, ah..."
"Prickly?" I supplied.
"Yeah, that works. She is always looking for a way to push him away. So, this way, he gets to spend time with her without her being able to make him leave, or run off herself."
"That's... kind of sweet," I decided, maybe not letting him know exactly how sweet I thought it was, that it made my heart go a bit gooey for her. Even if hers was hardened, mine could feel for the situation, for the pang of unrequited love.
"Yeah, it is. She might not see it, might be too damaged to understand the concept of love, but it's nice to see. Haven't exactly witnessed much of that kinda thing in a long time. Good to know it still exists."
"If you don't stop pawing at me, so help you, I will slice your hand off," Smoky's voice yelled through the bathroom door, making both of us snort/laugh at her timing.
"In my defense," Drake said, pulling away slightly, "I said it was nice, not that she was nice."
"An important distinction," I agreed, smiling even if losing his arms from around me made a swirl of disappointment come over me.
"Is there anything in here you think you will need to grab?" he asked, looking around the small space.
"I don't think any of this will be able to cross the veil. I do have some extra blankets stored in the linen closet though; those might come in handy. Has the snow melted at all?"
"No," he told me, shrugging. "I think it will be a good, long while before we see any relief from it."
"It's a good thing I didn't get rid of my winter things then," I agreed, moving back as far as I could so he had room to move out of the way of the door, opening it, moving halfway out.
"It's not my fault there is no space to move around without brushing into you, Smoke," Sal's voice claimed, calm, unaffected, not at all pierced by her barbs.
I found the blankets I mentioned, grabbed the bags I had left The Green with as well before moving into the living space. "There are nuts above the fridge," I added. "And seeds," I told them, digging around in my small chest to find my two long-sleeved shirts, long pants, socks, underthings, and a few pieces of clothing for the warmer months as well, not knowing if or when I would be able to get new supplies when living on Drake's ancestral land. I didn't have a lot of room left in the bag, but I stashed two books in anyway, figuring that with Smoky and Sal packing the food in other bags, I could spare the space for such an indulgence.
"Should I pack my human money?"
I'd used a big chunk of it getting the apartment, and the things I needed to put in it to make it feel like home. But I had been working. I had managed to replace a little bit of it. And, if I was leaving, the rent money I had set aside could be included in the lump sum as well.
Drake exchanged looks with his new friends. It was Sal who spoke. "It could be more valuable than most realize. In the lean months when food is hard to come by, a little human money could be invaluable for anyone willing to go out of the veil. I'm thinking dads with hungry kids would be willing to make the trek. And exchange other goods for it."
"Okay," I nodded, finding the few separate stashes of cash since I had yet to figure out how the whole banking situation worked, and pushing them to the bottom of my bag. "I think that is every..." My sentence was cut off by the sharp rapping at my door.
Everyone stiffened.
And my heart lodged up in my throat before I forced it back down.
"It's probably my super."
"Super?" Drake parroted.
"He like... runs things."
"Why would he be here?"
My air huffed out of my nose; I shook my head. "He, ah, he..."
"He knows she's a woman living here alone. And that she's pretty," Smoky supplied in a tone that said it was idiotic of them not to have realized it themselves.
Drake's spine straightened, moving across my apartment in two long strides, reaching for the knob, and nearly ripping the door off its hinges as he yanked it open.
"Can I help you?" he asked, voice a booming sound, something that made Ivon shrink back a bit as his eyes raked over the somewhat intimidating presence in the doorway.
"Is Amy here?" he asked, coughing a bit, trying to regain some of his lost bravado.
Even as I moved across the floor, Drake half-turned, giving me room to step into view. But as soon as I was a foot away, his arm dropped down on my shoulders, making me sink down an inch or two under the weight as he curled me into his side.
Protectively.
Possessively.
Man-Language.
That was what this was called. This unspoken conversation in which everything is communicated silently, and testosterone flowed freely.
Drake was claiming me.
As his.
To this man who clearly had less than honorable intentions toward me.
I knew it was fake, for show, just a message being relayed, but try to tell that to my belly that went warm and gooey at it.
And while it likely just looked like I was playing along, a part of me knew it wasn't all for show when my hand snaked up the firm line of his belly to settle there. Familiarly. Lovingly.
"Can I help you?" I asked, smiling at the man who so often leered at me.
"I just wanted to make sure you were in. I heard noise up here. You aren't usually in on Sunday afternoons."
That was a bit more than mildly creepy that he knew my schedule so intimately.
"We needed to grab some supplies for a weekend away," Drake supplied. "I appreciate you checking on my girl," Drake said, not sounding the least bit appreciative. "But I've got it from here."
Ivon's gaze went to me, a mix of annoyed and determined. "You sure you're alright, Amy?" he asked, raising a brow at Drake. "He doesn't seem your type."
"Well, I can assure you that some middle-aged, slimy super definitely isn't her type."
"Oh, fun," Smoky's voice chimed in, making everyone turn to see her standing there, wicked gleam in her eyes to match the smirk on her face. "Are we about to whip them out and compare sizes?" she asked, making my cheeks warm at the implication. "My wager is on Drake's being bigger."
"Amy," Ivon said, face twisted up in a mix of anger and embarrassment, "I'd thought you'd have made better friends. It's dangerous to get mixed up in the wrong crowd."
Annoyance prickled over my skin - a lifetime of being told everyone else knew better for me than I knew for myself. "I will take that under advisement. If you'll excuse us, we have somewhere to be."
Inwardly, I cringed a bit at the realization that, at times, when I was being snarky or superior, I had a tendency to channel my mother. It wasn't an ability I could claim I was happy to possess. But at least it made my nosy super turn and leave, mumbling under his breath as he went.
"He always look at you like that?"
"Like I have no clothes on?" I asked,
wrinkling up my nose. "Yes."
"Asshole," he concluded, turning to take a bag from Smoky, but not taking his arm from off my shoulders. "You have everything?"
I took one last look at my apartment, letting myself feel the loss, exhaling out my disappointment. "Yeah."
"You can have it again," Drake told me as his friends moved ahead of us, sure-footed, confident, leading us back toward the veil, heads swiveling now and again, vigilant, keeping an eye for Cass and his minions.
"Have what?" I asked, sticking close to his body even as the humid air started to make my shirt stick to my skin.
"Something of your own," he explained. "Something full of yellow and green and pretty things. You'll have that again. I will make it happen."
My heart swelled a bit in my chest even as I tried to remind myself not to get my hopes too high, not to let myself dream of something that may not be a possibility.
I understood how many things were in The Green, how most lived.
Not in big estates like I had grown up in.
In little huts they had built with their own two hands.
But, somehow, I liked the idea.
"Could I help?" I asked.
"Help with what?"
"Making a home for myself. Can I help build it? I know nothing about it, but I would like to be a part of it."
"I'd like to see that," he told me, eyes dancing at the very idea. "It wouldn't be so different, furnishings aside," he added. "Your home in the human realm is about the size of the average home in my land. Someone can show you how to make dye from flowers and berries to decorate with. How to make your own pots and cups and such. It's not exactly like the life you were living in the city, but it can be fulfilling in a different way."
"I think I would like that."
I liked finding little treasures for my space, never having been allowed to choose my own decor growing up. I imagined it would be even more fun to make them myself, to be a part in it in a bigger way.
"Would I see you?" I asked, gaze watching my feet on the sidewalk.
"Hm?"
"When we go into your land. Will I be seeing you?"
"Of course you'll be seeing me. I'll be right there whenever you need me. I know it will be scary at first.Can I level with you?"
"Sure." My head swiveled and lifted to inspect his profile, curious.
"I think it might be a little... uncomfortable," he decided, not quite wanting to use the word scary to describe his worries about going home after so long, "for me at first. It would be nice to have a friendly face around."
"You'll have your family back," I reminded him. "I mean... if you had..."
"I had family," he cut me off. "And they'll be happy to see me. But," he sucked in a breath, exhaling it hard.
"But what?"
"But they will be expecting a man who no longer exists," Smoky supplied from several feet in front of us, making me uncomfortably aware of the idea that she had been eavesdropping on us.
"Yeah," Drake agreed, nodding. "Can't say I am going back there the same man I was when I left. It is going to take them a while to adjust, I think. They'll try to understand, but I think only you can really get it. Being there, seeing things... knowing who I am now."
"Well, you'll always be welcome at my place. You know, after we build it."
We.
That felt right.
It was a silly thought.
And one I clearly was on my own with.
Because Drake's arm lifted suddenly, making me all-too-aware of the weight that had been there, leaving me feeling too light, something I didn't know was possible.
We walked in silence except for me to suggest the train over the ferry, saving us a little time.
Everyone stiffened at the idea of being around all that steel, but with time being of utmost importance, everyone agreed, following me through the inner workings of Pennsylvania Station, putting me in the unlikely position of being the guide, the one with the know-how, the street smarts.
I found I liked it, even if it would be fleeting.
"Nope," Smoky said, slamming the flat of her palm into Drake's chest when he went to take the empty seat beside me. "The girls want to talk," she told him, catching me off-guard. Smoky didn't exactly seem like the chatty sort. "Don't go puffing your chest at me. I promise to keep her safe, you overprotective brute," she told him. "And if I fail, you are all of three feet away," she told him, waving to empty seats two rows back and across from us.
Once the guys moved away - albeit somewhat reluctantly - Smoky dropped down, putting all her bags to the seat near the window.
Undeniably intimidated, I lowered myself down near the window across from her, putting my bag near the aisle.
"So, you're the one worth crossing over into this hellhole of a realm," she started, head tilted.
"Hellhole is a bit of a stretch," I defended my very temporary home.
"It smells of piss and sweat and festering garbage," she challenged.
And, well, there wasn't much I could say to counter that. Especially in the summer anyway.
"What makes you so special?" she asked, no malice in her voice, pure curiosity. Clearly being someone used to being on her own, she didn't quite know how to approach things without being the slightest bit too blunt, borderline offensive.
"Nothing," I said, shrugging. "I am just... easily usable, I guess," I admitted, feeling the words sting a bit, not exactly proud of that reality.
"So, that's it," she said, shaking her head. "The sweet, innocent bit," she concluded. "That's a thing, I hear. Gets the menfolk all hot and bothered, makes them feel needed and shit."
I couldn't disagree with her. I could see it that way. I was innocent in many ways. And perhaps too sweet at times. And from what I could tell from all the human shows and books I had seen and read, men absolutely enjoyed their damsels in distress.
But I didn't want to be seen as someone who always needed saving.
I had saved myself, damnit.
And I had saved Drake too.
"He thinks he owes me," I told her, looking out the window as the train lurched to life. "That's why he came for me. Because I let him go. Gave him the chance to be able to live out his life by his own terms. He wants the same for me."
"Except you can't have that. Not the way you want to have it." I didn't argue with her. She wasn't wrong. "In the human realm, are women always the pawns to the will of men?" she asked, voice cautious.
"In some ways, for some women, I guess. But in many places - most places - women aren't seen as a commodity. Your family doesn't get to force you into marriage. You can make your own decisions. For the most part, anyway. In this point in their timeline. In the area of their world that I was living."
"Funny how most fae looked down on humans, consider them base and backward."
"They can be," I allowed, shrugging it off. "But I think, as a whole, they are good. I don't know if I feel the same way about most fae these days. Who slaughters an entire family just to steal a letter?"
"Makes you think..." Smoky started, then cut off cryptically.
"Think what?"
Her gaze slid to me, eyes cold, as cool as her tone when she spoke again. "What he would do to you if he got his hands on you."
My lips curved up slightly at her bluntness. "You don't sugarcoat things, do you?"
"Sugarcoat," she repeated, not knowing the meaning.
"Try to make bad things sound better," I clarified.
To that, she laughed, short and humorless. "Why would I do that? Why would anyone do that? Doesn't it make the inevitable harder to face, to be told lies about it? Women, we don't live in a world where things can be coated in sugar, where half-lies can be believed as whole truths. We know better. Sometimes, the reality is too bitter to ever be sweetened."
"That's true. And I know what you mean. Cass would do whatever it would take to lure my brother and his daughter out, to get them to do what they say. I'm not naive. I was raised by a woman who knew exa
ctly who she was making a deal with, what that man is capable of, and she was still willing to ship me off to that fate. I understand cruelty just fine. My life has been surrounded by it. If Cass could slaughter children for no reason at all, I know exactly the kinds of horrific things he would do to me for something he wants more than anything else."
"You don't sound angry."
"What good does anger do?"
"Anger does a lot of good, Amethyst. Maybe you don't see that now, but someday you might. If that happens, don't shy away from it. Use it. Nothing will save you like your own rage will."
"I'll keep that in mind."
There was silence for a while before she blurted out, "Have you ever seen Drake Change?"
"No. I mean.... I've seen some of the plates come out. When..."
"When he was beaten," she filled in for me, clearly much more accustomed to the ugly aspects of life, making me wonder what she must have seen, done, experienced. What may have been done to her.
"Yeah, when he was beaten. But he always fought the Change. I've never seen him take full form."
"It's gotta be sexy," she murmured, gaze looking past me out the window at the world whizzing by.
Unable to stop it, maybe emboldened by her bluntness, I watched her as I asked, "Is it sexy when Sal changes?"
Her gaze slid to mine, eyes keen, smirk wicked. "Well, the naked part isn't a hardship," she admitted. "Speaking of naked... did you?"
"Did I what?"
"Fuck Drake?" she demanded, making my face feel hot immediately.
"Ah, not really."
"There isn't a 'not really' about it, you know."
"We, um, kissed. That's it. Oh, and, ah, he saved me from a..."
"A what?"
"A sex fae," I declared, embarrassed about something that had been completely out of my control.
"Ah," she nodded sagely. "Saved. I'm assuming some manual labor went into that. But it clearly doesn't count."
"What are you two gabbing about?" Sal asked, leaning onto the side of Smoky's seat.
"Oh, nothing. Just how unappealing it is when men turn into other things."
Sal, clearly used to being pricked by Smoky's barbs, was completely unfazed, simply giving her a smile, the light dancing in his unusual slitted eyes, making me wonder how the humans hadn't realized he wasn't one of them yet. "Oh, Smoke, baby, you know you love the part where all my clothes come off."
Escape From The Green Page 13
