by Mary Lindsey
Suzette tucked her straight blond hair behind her ear. “My dad came from a poor family and made it biandbe g in computer software and games. We moved from California to New York a couple of years ago when his company expanded, and he enrolled me in the same elite private school as Anna and the gang. I told him I knew I’d hate it and begged him not to. I’d gone to public school in California.”
“Why did he do it, then?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Because he wanted me to have all the things he didn’t have as a kid. All the best things, and this school is the best.”
“He must love you very much.”
She smiled. “Yeah, I guess he does. Anyway, I didn’t think I’d find a single friend. But then I met Anna and she just kind of pulled me in.”
She had pulled me in too.
“Nicky isn’t a bad guy.” She folded her hands in her lap. “He’s just spoiled. He’s used to getting what he wants. And honestly, you’re in the way of getting what he wants tonight.”
He wanted Anna. The beast inside me growled and my head buzzed. “I have to go.”
She stood. “So, you’ll just let him get his way as usual.”
“If Anna wishes it, yes.” I was completely out of my element, and the strange sensation of my demon awaking made me uneasy. The urge to get away from Taibhreamh was bordering on a frantic need. “Good-bye, Suzette. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“She likes you,” Suzette called to my back as I rounded the corner of the house. “A lot.”
I stopped, allowing her to catch up.
“I can tell by the way she looks at you and acts around you. I’ve never s
een her like this. And you like her too, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.”
“But not enough to stay?”
It was wrong of me to interfere in her life. If I stayed, it would be because of selfishness. Besides, I didn’t know how much longer I could keep the beast at bay. “I like her enough to leave.”
12
A feeling, for which I have no name, has taken possession of my soul.
—Edgar Allan Poe,
from “Ms. Found in a Bottle,” 1833
Muireann swam closer to the source of the voices, careful to stay out of sight. The Na Fir Ghorm were frantic to take a human life. After hearing the leader berate his son, she knew it was because they were growing too weak to remain in the human realm. It was rare for the humans to get near the water at night, but evidently, one had and they were making the most of it.
“Come,” one called. “The water is peaceful and warm. Your mother’s arms await.”
“Yes. Be with her in a heavenly embrace,” another said.
The water was freezing cold and nothing waited but a horrible death for the benefit of these despicable creatures. Muireann hated them with their blue skin and black hearts.
“Nothing holds you here,” one called to the human making his way along the trail. “Be released from your mortal bonds. Join us.”
Muireann rose to the surface to take a breath. It was him. Her human. So beautiful, walking along the cliff-side trail. The moon was full, so she could see him easily. She wanted to interfere but knew it would mean disaster for her pod. Please be strong, she thought.
“I will never join you,” he shouted.
Muireann swam closer, relieved he was not in a suicidal trance as the Na Fir Ghorm wished. They had the ability to hypnotize with their voices, and it worked on the weak of mind and sick of heart. Her human was still strong. Why was he wandering the island at night?
“Your mother waits to hold you in her arms,” one called to him.
“My mother is dead,” the human yelled back.
“Find her killer!” a Bean Sidhe shrieked in the ancient tongue.
“Yes, only you can reveal the wrongdoing!” another wailed.
Muireann swam parallel to the shore, staying even with the human as he stomped along the path.
“He can’t understand you, idiot creatures!” a Na Fir Ghorm said. “Stay out of this. The broken one is ours.”
The broken one! Muireann’s heart raced. It was her human the leader wanted dead. The one on whom he had sworn revenge.
Still, the Bean Sidhe moaned and shrieked, drowning out the Na Fir Ghorm.
The human covered an ear with his good hand and pressed the other against his shoulder but didn’t falter from his progression down the path, which veered inland, taking him away from the shore and out of harm’s way.
* * *
I pounded on the store door again—harder this time. I had no idea whether Francine could hear me from her upstairs bedroom or not.
The harbor lay eerily calm, and the full moon reflected off the mirror-like surface of the water, making the middle of the night seem like dusk. I had wandered the dock for a while, trying to decide what to do, and this seemed to be the best course of action. It was unfair of me to wake her up, but I needed answers before something awful happened.
Her window slid open with a bang. “What in the name of heaven are you doing out there, lad? Are you in trouble?”
I backed several steps away from the door to get a better look at her. “Yes. No . . . I don’t know.”
“Stay there.” She slammed the window shut and soon opened the door for me.
I followed her into the storeroom behind the counter and sat at the table while she put the teakettle on. We didn’t talk for a while as she bustled about collecting cups, sugar, and tea. She placed leaves in the little metal diffuser and dropped it into the kettle. “Now, tell me what’s going on.” She joined me at the table, placing the sugar bowl between us.
“The demon inside me has awakened,” I blurted out, not knowing how else to put it.
“I’ve told you all your life that there is no demon. It’s only a vicious rumor started by a miserable woman.”
I ran my hand through my hair. “No. I’m telling you, it’s there. I felt it. It made me crave violence, just like everyone has predicted.”
Francine wrapped her robe closer around her. “How’s it going with the Leighton girl?”
“Francine! Did you hear mDidnt se? The demon has emerged.”
She smiled. “Yes, I heard you loud and clear. We’ll get to your demon, but first I want you to calm down and talk to me. How’s Anna?”
“She’s good.”
“Just good?”
I took a deep breath. Being around Francine made me feel safe again, and her lack of panic over my revelation brought me a modicum of comfort. “She’s great . . . amazing. Beyond amazing.”
Francine grinned. “And?”
“She’s beautiful and brilliant, and when she kisses me, I swear I can do anything. I can fly, Francine.”
“That’s how love makes you feel, lad. Like you can fly.” The teakettle whistled, and Francine left the table.
Love. That was the problem. On my way from the mansion, several things occurred to me. One was that the demon was real, two was that I was in love with Anna, and three, the two things were somehow related.
Francine returned to the table with two cups of tea. “Now, you and I have never really talked at length about this, Liam. I simply told you my theory and I stand by it. The demon is a rumor.”
I shook my head. “It’s real.”
“Tell me first, who did you hear it from and what you know about it?” She spooned some sugar into her tea.
“I’ve heard—”
Francine interrupted me by making a tsk-tsk sound. “First, start with the source.”
“Well, villagers. I’ve overheard it my whole life. Everyone knows about it.”
She took a sip of her tea. “So nobody has told you directly.”
“Well, no, but—”
“So you’ve overheard gossip and rumor.”
She was trying to make me feel better by discounting the source, but I had felt it. “The story is consistent regardless of the source.”
She added another spoonful of sugar and ges
tured to my cup with her spoon. “That’s getting cold.”
I picked up my cup. “When I was born, it’s said that a demon possessed me. That it put on my human skin but did so erroneously or was interrupted before it got its left arm in correctly, which is why my arm doesn’t work. That my flesh is animated by a demon and when I reach my prime, the demon will emerge, taking over my ability to reason, and kill those I love, just like it did at my birth when I murdered my mother.”
“Oh, my God.” The sound of Anna’s voice caused me to drop my tea, spilling it all over the table and floor. I jumped to my feet, wanting more than anything to run.
“We didn’t hear you arrive, lass,” Francine said, sopping up my tea with a towel she had pulled from the stove handle.
Anna twisted her fingers in front of her, clearly uncomfortable. “When I came in, I said hello, but the teakettle was making a racket. You just didn’t hear me.”
I took several steps back.
“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I’m really sorry.” She met my eyes, but I looked away, focusing on the utensil jar on the counter instead. How could I face her now that she knew the truth?
“Well, you might as well join us since it concerns you too. Would you like some tou . Howea, lass?” Francine asked, dropping the towel in the sink.
“It doesn’t concern her,” I said, a little louder than intended.
“No, thanks.” Anna sat in a chair at the table.
I gave Francine a pleading look.
“It’s my home, lad. I invited her, so she stays.”
I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall. She knew. She would hate and fear me now, like everyone else. “Well, I suppose it’s best you found out now, before we . . .” I glanced at her briefly, then lowered my eyes to the floor. “Before we continued our friendship.”
“Well, this certainly explains a lot,” Anna said.
Francine sat back down and picked up her tea. “You sure you don’t want some?”
“Positive,” Anna said. I could feel her looking at me, but I was too ashamed to meet her eyes. “So, Liam, do you really believe that story?”
“How did you get here?” I asked. It came out harsher than I’d intended, but it occurred to me that she could have died on the way had the Na Fir Ghorm discovered her.
“I flew. Can’t you fly, Liam?”
She’d heard more than she had indicated. My face grew hot. “It’s dangerous walking near the water at night,” I said. “The Na Fir Ghorm—”
“Yeah, those blue guys are a pain in the butt, I know. I went through the woods so I only had to deal with the shrieking things. You said they were harmless, remember? I never got near the water until I reached your shed.”
My stomach lurched. “You went to my shed?”
“Well, yeah. Where would you have looked for you? When you weren’t there, I came here, hoping you hadn’t listened to the blue guys and offed yourself. You were acting pretty weird.”
I approached the table and stood behind my chair. “Anna. I cannot impress upon you enough the dangers this island holds. You must try to stay indoors at night.”
She laughed. “That’s pretty hypocritical coming from demon dude. And weren’t you going to turn me out just a minute ago?”
“Well, no, I—”
Francine chuckled.
“It’s not funny,” I said.
“No, it’s not,” Anna answered. “It’s twisted and screwed up. It’s one of those laugh-or-you’ve-gotta-cry situations. Could you sit down, Liam? You’re making me uncomfortable.”
I slid into my seat.
Francine moved to the stove and refilled my cup, poured a fresh one, and returned, placing the cups in front of us. “What kind of hostess would I be if I didn’t insist? Tea is calming, you know.”
“I guess it’s best you hear the truth from me,” I said, spooning sugar into my cup.
She made that peculiar snorting sound. “That’s not the truth. That’s a bunch of crap. It’s nonsense. And don’t give me the flat-earth analogy again, MacGregor. It’s not going to work this time. You are no demon.”
“No, that’s not the assertion,” I said. “A demon lies within, wearing my skin, waiting to overpower me.”
Francine shifted in her chair, as if settling in for a long story.
Anna picked up her teacup. “Are you aware that since the beginning of time, all over the world, babies with disabilities have been rumored to be evil or wicked because of deformities when, in fact, it is just a natural defect or condition?”
“No.”
She returned her cup to the table and ran her finger idly over the rim. “It’s true. We studied it in Sociology my junior year. In most cases, the superstitions came about as a way to justify killing babies that would be a hassle for their tribe or family to raise. I suspect since your arm doesn’t work right, they used that to prove the story they’d been told about the demon when it’s probably some totally normal birth defect. I bet if you hadn’t been born with a bum arm, they wouldn’t have held on to the demon story all this time. It’s nothing more than fear of something different.”
Francine poured herself more tea but said nothing.
“I would like nothing better than to believe fear of a deformity is what has perpetuated the rumor of the demon, but I can’t,” I said. “I’ve felt it. It awakened today.”
“Aye, you said that,” Francine said. “Tell me about it. When did it happen?”
I closed my eyes and relived the day. “The first time was when I met Anna’s friends.”
“I need a specific moment,” Francine said.
I was embarrassed to bring it up, but it bore revealing because even the memory caused the beast to stir. “When Nicholas kissed Anna as he got off the helicopter.”
Francine’s expression did not change. “Did it happen again?”
“Yes. When I shook Nicholas’s hand and he tried to crush mine, and again when he called Anna a name. That was the worst. I almost lost control to the demon that time. It’s why I left. I was afraid it would take over.”
Anna and Francine exchanged a look as if they had shared an amusing secret.
“You’re right,” Francine said. “That was a monster.”
At least I’d been vindicated in my belief. I knew I was right.
“A green-eyed monster.” Anna appeared to be fighting a smile.
“One of the most dangerous monsters of all,” Francine added.
“Enough. What are you talking about?”
Anna reached over and took my hand. “That was jealousy, Liam. Pure and simple.”
“No. I felt different. Evil.”
Francine leaned forward. “Yes, Liam. Jealousy is dark. It’s perhaps the most powerful emotion and the hardest to control. You’ve never felt it before. You are such a kind, loving lad. You’ve always been happy for others’ good fortune and have never had anything worth being jealous over.” She looked at Anna. “Until now.”
Anna squeezed my hand.
It couldn’t be that simple. “What about my mother?”
Francine leaned back in her chair. “Ah, well, now. That’s a bit more complicated, you see. But you are not a murderer. Of that I am certain.”
She might have been certain, but I wasn’t. “There was a witness, and the whole village saw her mutilated body. And what about my hearing the Bean Sidhes?”
Anna entwined her fingers through mine. “I hear those things screaming ags t>
Francine placed her warm hands over both of ours. “Liam. I held you in my arms less than an hour after your birth. You were a lovely, wee babe, not a vicious demon. I’ve no idea what happened to your mother, but I’m certain you didn’t do it. The only person who really knows is Brigid Ronan, and she’ll never tell the truth.”
“What does she say happened?” Anna asked Francine.
Francine removed her hands, waving her question away. “It doesn’t bear repeating.”
“No, really. What did she say?” A
nna pressed, squeezing my hand. I gently unlaced my fingers from hers, wishing for a way to end the conversation. She stood, hands on hips, eyes focused on me. “Look, just like you told me when I didn’t want to explain why I was exiled here: I’m going to find out anyway, so it might as well be from you.”
I closed my eyes and took a shuddering breath. I’d never given the story words before—never given it the power of being said aloud. “Miss Ronan says that she ran to help when she heard the screaming and that when she got there, my mother lay dead in her own blood and I was asleep against her with my umbilical cord severed.”
Anna shrugged. “So, she gave birth to you, cut the cord, and died. It doesn’t happen much anymore because of modern medicine, but it could certainly happen in this backward place. That’s not murder.”
Francine, clearly uncomfortable, cleared her cup and the sugar bowl from the table, busying herself at the sink.
“There was more to it than that,” I whispered. “The body was mutilated. She was ripped and torn—I had clawed my way out, shredding her to death. I killed her.”
Anna covered her mouth, but her eyes never left my face. I saw neither fear nor disgust, just shock and something else . . . pity?
Francine slammed her hand on the counter. “It doesn’t add up. It never has.” Then she muttered something in such a heavy burr I couldn’t understand her. She turned from the sink to face us. “You were framed, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why. Why an innocent babe?”
No longer able to sit still, I paced a triangle from the doorway to the sofa in the corner to the sink. “Francine, you’ve seen and interacted with Otherworlders. Why can’t you accept that I’m possessed by one? Why believe all the other stories, but not this one?”
“Why would you choose to believe it?” Anna asked.
“Because there’s evidence.”
“No, there’s not. I bet I could hire a detective and a forensic expert and we could solve this.”
I stopped pacing. “How?”
“Well, we’d exhume your mother’s body, and I bet on examination, we’d find the injuries don’t match Ronan’s story.”
