Constant Cravings

by Tracey H. Kitts

  While I soaked in the hot water, watching the steam rise, I tried my best to relive tonight’s events without freaking out. What did I actually see? I pictured Rachel as she’d looked moments before it happened, remembering the smile she wore as she danced.

  She was twirling around like a child, looking up at the stars, when I’d first noticed something was wrong. One second I heard a noise, the next I saw a blur of dark hair moving toward my friend.

  Glowing red eyes. Claws. Teeth hovering above her face. I screamed.

  That’s when it noticed me. The monster was hidden by shadows. The lighting was too poor to make out any more details other than it was big. Really big. I did the only thing I could—I turned and ran.

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  Constant Cravings

  It reached for me as I turned, ripping my jacket loose. I knew the beast to be fast because of how quickly it leapt for Rachel. Now that I thought about it, it hadn’t tried very hard to catch me. When it grabbed my jacket I’d slipped in the mud, clawing my way through a puddle to regain my footing.

  After that, I hadn’t stopped until I reached the café. I must have run two blocks.

  I opened my eyes and realized I’d been clutching the rim of the tub so hard my knuckles had turned white.

  Rachel had been on the ground, and when I looked again, she was gone. Had I just assumed she’d been eaten or did I see it happen?

  “Fuck this.”

  I towel-dried my hair and bundled up in my thickest bathrobe. It was the first of November and the weather was unseasonably cold. As I passed the thermostat on the way to the kitchen, I bumped up the temperature. I had an electric fireplace, but it only worked half the time and tonight I didn’t want to take a chance on setting the place on fire.

  What I needed was sleep. I stared at the bottle Liam had given me for several minutes, wondering how much to take, before I noticed the tiny writing. At first I thought it was just a scratch on the bottle’s bright blue surface. I held it closer and could tell it was writing, but still couldn’t read the small print.

  I rummaged through the kitchen junk drawer until I found a magnifying glass. For prevention of nightmares. Take one drop.

  “Well, that answers that question.”

  For the second time that night I took something a stranger had given me. Only this time, I hadn’t questioned my decision as much.

  * * * * *

  It was noon the next day before I woke up. My sleep had been good and thankfully free from nightmares. I couldn’t say as much for my waking thoughts. I decided it would be best to call my clients and cancel any readings for the next few days. I hated to turn away money, but I felt like shit. It’s not that I’m greedy. I needed to pay the rent.

  Palm reading didn’t pay enough to live a life of luxury, but it was still decent money.

  Technically, I didn’t have a “real job”. A friend of mine did taxes and had advised me against officially opening a business. He said that instead I should do readings in my home and accept “donations”. That way I avoided business taxes and actually made enough money to live.

  So if you want to get technical, my services are free. I’ve always been grateful for the regular clients of mine who give large donations. Because of one of these I was able to take a few days to work through the loss of my friend.

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  Tracey H. Kitts

  I made coffee on autopilot. I was like a zombie going through the motions of what I used to do. The night before seemed surreal. In the light of day I wondered if I’d only imagined a monster.

  Then I remembered Liam.

  I closed my eyes and saw his white hair spilling across my face, felt my nails biting into his shoulders as I gripped him tight. With a gasp I snapped out of whatever trance I’d been in. Normally, something like that didn’t happen to me unless I was reading for someone. Even then, it wasn’t a first-person perspective. Most of the time if I saw anything it was like watching a movie or a play acted out in front of me. But this was real.

  “Was that a vision of the future?” I wondered aloud.

  One thing was certain, I had not imagined him. My imagination wasn’t that good.

  As I enjoyed my third cup of coffee, I began to make notes on things I had questions about from the night before.

  At the top of the list was, “What does ‘unseelie’ mean?” This was immediately followed by “Who the fuck is Oberon and why does he sound familiar?” A few minutes alone with a search engine and I had only created more questions.

  There were so many sites with information about fairies. Sometimes the internet can be too much of a good thing. I needed answers, and there were plenty here. Mostly to questions I hadn’t asked yet. Several sites did agree on one thing, “unseelie” was definitely bad.

  The group known as unseelie was considered the “Dark Court”, consisting of solitary fairies who were supposedly more inclined to be wicked because they didn’t fit in with the rest.

  “Shit. They make them sound like serial killers.” Upon closer investigation, I found that such unsavory characters as hobgoblins belonged to the unseelie court. What had Liam done to be put in this category? Or was Nym just being an ass?

  I thought this over in the shower. It was there, with my bathroom filled with steam, that I was distracted not by thoughts of grief but by fantasies of Liam. I imagined him there with water saturating his long hair, making it cling to his neck and shoulders. I could see every inch of him, just as real as I could look down and see my own body.

  Was my mind trying to protect me from what I’d seen? Was I having these visions to avoid reliving the horror that I could only remember in flashes?

  “These are not the thoughts of someone who just lost a friend,” I said to myself.

  Imagine my surprise when Liam answered, “How would you know? Have you ever lost a friend before?”

  “No. But apparently I’ve lost my fucking mind.” His smile looked so real. He looked so real. I reached out to test that theory just as Liam seemed to realize he was naked.

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  “Naughty you,” he teased.

  I ran a hand through my wet hair to get it out of my face. Truly, I expected him to vanish in the time it took me to do this.

  “I’m not naughty, because this isn’t happening. I’m standing here like a nut, talking to myself. I’m hurting and this must be a manifestation of my pain.” He propped against the wall and as he crossed his arms, rivulets of water cascaded down his body.

  “See, nobody looks that good naked, so this can’t be real. You are a fantasy, right down to your…” My words trailed off as I paused to take in the full view. “That can’t be real.”

  He didn’t laugh at me, but there was barely contained amusement in his smile.

  “If you’re done trying to convince yourself, I’d be glad to tell you what’s really happening.”

  I took a step forward, frightened by the depth of my obvious psychosis. In the process I knocked down a bottle of shampoo. It stopped before reaching Liam’s foot. I’d been expecting it to roll right through him.

  “Fine. Let’s hear it.”

  “You summoned me here.”

  “Summoned you?”

  “It’s a side effect of the kiss we shared.”

  I remembered what he’d said, about if you kissed a fairy your souls would touch.

  “It’s for this reason that Oberon discourages mixing with humans. If they have a bit of psychic ability, they can summon you, just like this.” He indicated his body before winking at me. “The naked fantasy is a nice touch.” A light switched on in my memory. “Oberon? As in, king of the fairies, Oberon?” He looked impressed. “You know your folklore.”

  “I know my Shakespeare,” I corrected.

  He sighed. “I know where you’re going with this. Just because he was in a work of fiction doesn’t make him any less real.”

  “If he is your king, then you’ve gone against his wishes.” He shrugge
d. “It’s not the first time. He’ll understand.”

  “You have a good relationship then?”

  “He’s my uncle. Well, sort of. I’ll explain it to you later. Over dinner, maybe. In the meantime, try not to summon me.”

  Before I could tell Liam I hadn’t intentionally summoned him, he added, “I’ll see you in two days.”

  21

  Tracey H. Kitts

  It wasn’t until after he’d vanished that I understood he’d really been there, we’d had an entire conversation, butt-naked in my shower. Oh well, no use worrying about it now.

  As I dried off, I decided to spend the rest of the day doing more research. I wiped some of the steam from the mirror and ran a comb through my hair. My dark eyes were a little red from all the crying, but considering everything, I didn’t look too bad.

  Appearances were always important to my mother and I frowned when I realized that some of her habits had rubbed off on me. From the way she looked to the people she was seen with, my mother couldn’t stop worrying about what everyone would think of her. It didn’t matter how I looked, my best friend died yesterday.

  Since appearances are so important to her, my mother and I have never been close.

  She didn’t disown me or anything like that. She just thinks I’m crazy. The gift, as my granny called it, skipped her. It is for this reason she’s always kept her distance once I moved out. God forbid everyone think her daughter was a loon, just like her poor old crazy mother had been. Granny took her gift in stride. No one thought she was crazy.

  She was revered. My mother just had no idea because she was too afraid to find out.

  She’d moved out at seventeen to avoid living under the same roof as a “tea-reading loony”.

  Granny never read tea leaves. Shows what Mom knew.

  I’d just slipped into my favorite jeans and a big blue sweater when someone rang the doorbell. Since I’d cancelled my appointments and Liam had said two days, I was careful to check the peephole first. My waitress from the café was standing there, twirling a lock of hair around one finger. She looked both harmless and sort of charming. What the hell? I opened the door.

  “Hello,” she said brightly. “I know we don’t know each other, but Liam sent me.” She was carrying a small basket and looked too pretty to be real. Literally. Her blonde hair glowed and her blue eyes sparkled. I don’t mean that as a figure of speech.

  They really sparkled. You may read about shit like that in romance novels, but in real life, no one has eyes like that. Unless you count Liam, who isn’t completely human.

  “I’m a siren,” she said, as if sensing my curiosity. “I don’t really lure fishermen to their deaths, but I do like to swim.”

  Her uncertain smile and kind attempt to lighten the mood made me instantly like her.

  “Please, come in.”

  “Thank you.” She put the basket on the kitchen table and looked around with a smile. The more she spoke the faster the words came. “Nice place. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’ve never been to a fortune teller’s home before, but yours isn’t weird or creepy or anything. I’m glad you let me in. I figured you might have been suspicious of me last night. I mean, no one has natural blonde hair, not like mine. Without a glamour, it all glows.”

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  I didn’t bother explaining that she wasn’t in the room when Liam lifted the veil. I had no idea she “glowed” until she showed up at my apartment.

  When she paused to take a breath I said, “I just figured you colored it.” My comment came out a little flat. More like bad comedy than rudeness. We both laughed.

  “My name’s Aurora,” she said, “and I ramble when I’m nervous.”

  “No reason to be nervous. I promise I don’t bite. Can I offer you some coffee?”

  “That’d be great.”

  When I went back into the kitchen I remembered when I’d made the coffee and called over my shoulder, “It isn’t very fresh. I could make you some more?”

  “That’s fine as it is,” she said. “I like it strong and bitter.” She roamed around the living room and I poured her a cup of coffee while she continued to ramble about one thing or another before asking, “Can you read my mind, because I swear I only thought Liam was sexy that one time?” I burst out laughing. “I really can’t,” I assured her. “How is it that a siren knows nothing about palm reading? I thought magical creatures knew about all things, well, magical.”

  She shrugged, then accepted the cup from me and took a sip. “I dunno. How is it you didn’t believe in fairies until last night?”

  “Fair enough. It works like this. A reading requires physical contact as well as an invitation. Someone has to invite me into their mind. Normally, I take their hands and we sit quietly until I get a feeling or an image that relates to whatever it is they want to know about. I don’t instantly read their thoughts or see the future, though sometimes I can do those things.”

  “Do you always see something to help them?”

  “Not always. You’re not a fairy, so how come whatever he gave me made you visible for what you are? Sirens aren’t fairies, right?” I was pretty sure of the answer, but I’d been wrong before.

  “No, but all magical beings are hidden behind the veil. If they want, that is.”

  “Vampires and werewolves came out awhile ago and no one needed anything special to see them.”

  She smiled. “That’s because they aren’t magical.” Well, I certainly had lot to learn. “So, what’s in the basket?”

  “Oh crap. You can’t get me started talking, you really can’t. I’ll talk your head off.

  Not literally.” She added the last at my look of alarm. “I only knew one person who could actually do that and she was a sea hag. That’s so not the same thing as me.” 23

  Tracey H. Kitts

  Chapter Three

  The basket contained a book on fairies, a sympathy card and another bottle of the nightmare prevention potion. I guess he thought I’d have a lot of nightmares.

  Underneath the book was a small note that said, “I’ll see you soon. Remind Aurora.” I read it aloud and asked, “Remind you about what?”

  “Oh yeah,” she said, putting down the coffee cup. “He asked me to tell you that your abilities will be stronger now. He said that after what you shared, which is totally none of my business, your gift will go from mild to full-blown psychic. He has no idea what you may experience and sends his apologies.” She paused and chewed on her lip as if she was trying to remember something else. “Oh, and it’s temporary. If you don’t do, um, anything else physical with him, it will eventually wear off.” Well, that explained the visions. Was I seeing the future? My heart leapt at the possibility. Still, it was all a bit much to take in.

  “Holy shit.” I pulled out a chair and sat down before I fell down. “Anything else I should know?”

  “Not that I can think of.” It took Aurora a minute to catch my sarcasm. She laughed softly and sat across from me, taking my hand much the same way Liam had. “It’ll be okay. Read the book, take the potion, it’ll help.” I hesitated before asking, “Did he tell you why I need the potion?”

  “Yeah,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”

  True to her word, Aurora couldn’t stop talking again. “Liam and I have been friends for a while, ever since he got rid of that stalker for me. I tell him if I see anything weird while I’m at work, stuff like that. You know, because the café is right in the middle of everything.”

  A feeling of dread crept over me at the thought of asking her to elaborate. But I had a feeling I should ask more. Maybe it was part of my newly enhanced abilities.

  “Did you see anything strange last night? Besides me?”

  “Come to think of it, yeah. This woman came in all covered in slime.” I made a face. “Slime? Are you sure?”

  “Positive. You don’t forget someone covered in slime.” She paused and finished her coffee. “I know we barely know each other, but
could I offer you some advice?”

  “Sure.” I was actually eager to hear what kind of advice a siren would give.

  “Don’t worry too much about what happened. I know that sounds awful, but everything has a purpose. Like you and Liam.” She shrugged. “Well, that has purpose 24

  Constant Cravings

  written all over it. You should have seen his face when he gave me that basket this morning.”

  I couldn’t help but return her smile. Her good mood was contagious. “What do you mean? I’ve just met him.”

  Aurora looked at me more solemnly. “There is magic in the way he speaks your name. I don’t know how to say it any better than that, but there’s something special there. Don’t get so caught up in everything else that you let it slip away.” Her words were touching. “Thanks. That means a lot. Sounds as if you speak from experience.”

  Her radiant smile returned. “You mean on letting things slip away? Yeah, I’m the queen. Somehow, it’s easier to see what’s there when I’m looking at other people. But when it comes to my own love life? Phhfffttt.” She made a gesture like a magician performing a trick. “As soon as a man shows interest in me, poof, he’s gone.”

  “Are you telling them you’re a siren?”

  She looked to be thinking that over. “Damn it. You think I scared them off?”

  “It’s possible.”

  After my enlightening visit with Aurora, I took the book Liam had given me and settled down on the couch. Even though I had adjusted the thermostat to what should have been a pleasant temperature, I was freezing. Before I started to read, I decided to turn on the electric fireplace. Thank goodness, it worked. It had been rewired last year and I hadn’t trusted it since.

  I snuggled up underneath my favorite blanket and opened the book. In the front was a note from Liam.

  This book was published twenty years ago and no one took it seriously. They considered it fiction. It was written by a witch whose fae lover took her through the veil.

  I glanced at the cover once more and paid closer attention to the title: Fairies and Such. As I began to read I was excited to find the book covered all sorts of topics besides the fae. It wasn’t a comprehensive dictionary, but more of a list of magical beings I might possibly encounter.