by Amy Patrick
“Yes please. Where is Wes? Away at university?” I asked. Olly had mentioned her brother was much older but hadn’t said where he lived now that he’d moved out.
“No, his health condition forced him to leave the mainland. He can’t be around a lot of people, you see, so he lives a very quiet existence off the coast on one of the Scottish small isles. We miss him terribly.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
Olly listened intently while she made her own cup, adding sugar and cream until the concoction was nearly white.
“Not so much sugar, dear, you’ll rot your teeth,” her mother scolded.
“Her teeth are fine,” Fenella corrected. “Let the girl be.”
A dark look passed between the two Rowan women. Suddenly, I became very thankful we didn’t have time to spend the night with Olly’s family. I lifted the cup to my lips and took a sip of the hot liquid.
“It’s very good,” I said to fill the uncomfortable silence.
“I’m so glad you like it,” Ciarra said. “Well then, Macy, you must tell us all about your exciting travels. Olly is very jealous of the places you’ve seen. How did all this come about? Were you an exchange student?”
Before I could answer, Fenella interjected. “Why don’t we talk about what’s really going on here instead?”
Every head in the room turned to her.
“Mother—”
“Nanna—”
Olly and Ciarra’s words stepped on each other as they each began to protest the rude—and very odd—remark.
“What? Is it bad manners to ask why there’s an Elf and a nymph in our sitting room?”
My jaw and Nic’s dropped simultaneously. I wasn’t sure about anyone else’s expression in the room because I was looking only at him, desperately searching his face for clues as to our next move. What was up with this old lady? How could she know what we were?
“Oh dear.” Ciarra shot out of her chair and moved toward her mother, throwing an apologetic glance back over her shoulder toward me and Nic. “I am so sorry. My mother grew up out in the country in a very small, very superstitious village, and I’m afraid that sometimes these days, with her age and all, her mind goes back to the wild faerie stories she heard as a child. Do please forgive her remarks.”
She put a hand under the older woman’s elbow. “Mother, why don’t you come help me in the kitchen? I have some fresh biscuits in the oven, and we must get them ready for our guests. Olly, dear, why don’t you show Macy your room? Nic—I’ll be right back. Feel free to explore the conservatory if you like—Mother grows some interesting plant species in there.”
She led Fenella quickly from the room. Olly and I stood slowly, staring at each other, not quite sure what to say.
She took a couple steps toward the front hall. “The stairs are this way.”
I got up and followed her, glancing back at Nic.
The cure, he mouthed to me, and I nodded, patting my purse. He was right. It was the perfect opportunity to give Olly the treatment for her Plague infection. I wasn’t sure what else was going to happen when we got upstairs behind closed doors. She was bound to have questions. Should I tell her the truth or deny it all?
“So this is my bedroom,” she said at the top of the stairs, gesturing for me to enter. Once we both stood inside, she shut the door and turned to me, her blue eyes wide with wonder.
“Is it true? Are you really a nymph? Is Nic Elven?”
“I…” I sat on her bed hard, my legs suddenly weak. “I don’t know what to say, Olly.”
“The truth. You can trust me, Macy. I knew you were different as soon as I met you in Corsica. I’m different, too, though I'm not quite sure how.”
For long moments I sat staring at her sincere face as a battle waged inside my head. It would be easier to get her to simply take the cure if I told her the truth. But then Nic’s people required complete secrecy when it came to their real identities. Of course, Nic’s people wanted to capture me and drain all my blood, so…
“It’s true. I am a nymph. And Nic’s an Elf. He told me about himself when we went away on our holiday in Italy. I found out about my heritage only a few weeks ago.”
“That is so cool,” she gushed, her face glowing with delight. “What can you do? Like, do you have special powers or anything?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t really know much about being a nymph. I don’t know any others to ask—I was adopted by humans. There is one thing I can do.” I pulled my purse to my lap and withdrew the case containing the tiny vials we’d brought along for treating the girls.
Extracting one small vial from its padded compartment, I said, “I can give you this.”
Olly reached for it eagerly. “What is it? Magic elixir?”
“Sort of. It’s medicine. I brought it for you because Dr. Schmitt injected all the fan pod girls with something very bad—a plague virus.”
Her eyelids flew open.
“It’s dormant right now, but it could be activated at any time. That’s why you need this. It will clean the virus from your blood so you won’t get sick and you won’t infect anyone else. Without it, the plague could kill you and spread to your family and your neighbors and friends. And they’d spread it to more people.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“I’m fine. I’m immune to it. But the other fan pod girls are in danger. That’s why Nic and I have to leave right away. I’m sorry I can’t stay the night, but we have to go and find them and give them the cure as well.”
She nodded. “I understand. Is this why you needed my blood?”
“It is. Without you, we wouldn’t have been able to find the cure. Some doctors put your blood and mine together in a bunch of tubes and dishes, and they finally created this medicine out of it.”
“That is so brill! You were right—I was meant to go there and meet you. So is Nic not like the other Elves then? He doesn’t want to kill us?”
“No, he’s not like them at all. And he has a very nice sister as well. They’re not all bad. There are many Elves in the States who are trying heroically to save all the humans.”
She nodded. “That’s good. I’d hate for all of them to be evil as Nanna says.”
“Nanna. She’s told you about Elves, huh? I wonder how she knows. It’s a very carefully protected secret.”
“I don’t know, but she’s always told me stories about them, and they’re always scary. They hurt people, and they stole things from the good Earth-wives who tried to heal them.”
“Who are the Earth-wives?”
She shrugged. “Good women who were the healers in their villages. They delivered the babies, helped people find lost things, helped the farmers by predicting the weather.”
“I see.” That sounded a whole lot like a description of witches to me, and very pro-witch, as if it were right from a recruitment brochure. “And what did the Elves steal from them?”
“I don’t remember exactly. Just certain things they needed to make their best healing potions. The Elves used to let the Earth-wives have some in return for helping to keep their secret, but then the Elves got greedy and took it all. They became competitors and enemies instead of friends.”
“Wow. That’s quite a story. Your grandmother has quite an imagination.” Or some personal experience. I was starting to understand why Olly had been immune to Elven glamour—her grandmother must have cast some kind of protection spell over her. I couldn’t wait to tell this to Nic and see what he thought. Maybe he knew something of an ancient quarrel between Elves and witches?
“She does. She’s really nice, you know,” Olly explained. “She didn’t mean to be rude by announcing that in front of Mum and me. It’s just that she’s old now, and sometimes her thoughts come out of her mouth instead of staying put in her brain.”
“I understand. I have grandparents, too.” I wiped my brow, my hand coming away wet. It was really hot upstairs in Olly’s house. I even felt a little light-headed. I was eager to get
back downstairs and let Nic know what I’d learned from Olly. It would probably be a good idea to make our departure even earlier than we’d planned.
“Okay then, let’s get you healed. Need me to open that for you?”
“I can do it,” Olly said. “You don’t have to give me a shot, do you?”
“No, you drink it.”
“That’s good. I like that much better,” she said as she unscrewed the vial’s top.
“The healers in America thought it would be easier to treat the girls without them knowing it if we could pour the cure into a drink or something. We might even be able to sneak the cure to most of them.”
Olly nodded in understanding and put the vial to her lips, tipping her head back and emptying it.
“How is it?”
“Not bad,” she said. “There’s no real taste to it. It just feels warm in my mouth.”
“Speaking of warm,” I said, “I am roasting up here. Your family likes it toasty inside in the winter, I guess.”
She cocked her head. “I don’t feel warm at all. Want to go back downstairs?”
I nodded and rose from the bed, swaying slightly as my feet struggled for balance.
“Maybe you’re sick,” she suggested. “Sometimes people get germs on airplanes.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. It was a private plane, and I can’t get human illnesses. Let’s just get back downstairs to Nic.”
Olly offered me her hand for support as we made our way to the stairs and down to the ground floor. Nic was waiting in the entrance hall, wearing a troubled expression.
“We need to go,” he muttered. “Something’s not right here.”
I nodded my head, my eyelids growing heavy. “You’re right. And I don’t feel well.”
His brows drew together in instant concern, and he slipped an arm around my back. “Olly, it was good to see you. I’m going to take Macy to our hotel and let her rest. Tell your mother and grandmother good-bye for us, okay?”
“I wish you didn’t have to go so soon,” Olly said. “I’m sorry about Nanna. She gets a bit addled at times.”
Before the last few words left her mouth, Ciarra and Fenella returned, rushing into the entrance hall.
“Oh, you cannot leave so soon. Nic hasn’t drunk his tea yet,” Ciarra said. “And you haven’t even had any biscuits. We made them specially.”
Fenella glared at Nic, making no attempt at hospitality. “Where are you going with that nymph? I know what you’ll do with her. She needs to stay here. I need her.”
“Mother, please,” Ciarra pleaded.
Nic placed himself between me and the two women. I clung to the back of his shirt, trying to stay on my feet. My eyelids were heavy, and I felt as if I might faint at any moment.
Reaching behind him and taking my hand, Nic backed toward the front door. “I’m afraid Macy and I must be going. She’s taken ill suddenly. Thank you so much, Ciarra for your hospitality. Mrs. Rowan, you needn’t worry about Macy. I’d lay down my life for my fiancée.”
Turning quickly he opened the door and guided me through it just as Fenella charged him, screaming, “That can be arranged, you Elven filth.”
Keeping a firm grip on my hand, Nic led me down the front steps. We were closely followed by all three Rowan females, Fenella shouting threats, Ciarra sobbing apologies, and Olly yelling, “What in the bloody hell is going on here?”
The whole procession stopped dead in its tracks as someone stepped into the narrow gap between the garden hedge and the stone gatepost, blocking our path.
It was Alessia.
25
Nic
Of all the times for Alessia to catch up to us. Even before Macy had staggered down the stairs, obviously drugged, I’d decided it was time to abandon ship.
All during the bizarre teatime ritual there had been one desire in Fenella’s heart—Macy’s blood. All I could think at the time was that she must have somehow sensed that it was important for her granddaughter. If she was a witch, perhaps she’d been able to detect the Plague virus Olly carried? Uneasy, I’d avoided drinking the tea, but Macy had sipped some before I could prevent it.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Alessia snarled. “You have no idea how many stinking little villages I’ve visited, looking for you.”
I pulled Macy closer to my side. Most of her weight was resting on my arm now, and her feet stumbled on the unbroken pavement. My mind scrambled for the best course of action. She was a world-class gymnast. Under normal circumstances, she’d have been easily able to vault the brick and iron fence separating Olly’s garden from the neighbors.
But these weren’t normal circumstances. Macy couldn't vault anything in this condition—she couldn’t even walk unassisted, and I couldn’t hold her and make the leap. On our other side, the hedge was too thick to go through and too tall to go over. The only thing to do was pick up Macy and charge right into Alessia, running her over if necessary to escape the threat behind us and the one in front of us.
Before I could make a move, Macy’s legs buckled. She’d passed out. I caught her sagging body and swept my other arm beneath her knees, supporting her now in a cradle hold against my body as my former betrothed glared daggers at us.
She took a step forward. “What is the matter with my nymph?”
From behind us, Fenella’s voice rang out, sounding much stronger than it had when we’d first met and I’d thought she was just a doddering old lady.
“She is my nymph, and you are on my property, Elven she-devil.”
“Oh my heavens, the neighbors,” Ciarra cried, sounding like she was about to swoon.
Glancing down at Macy, I saw her eyes were closed. Whatever I did here, I’d have to do it without her cooperation. Deciding on the forward charge, I gripped Macy tightly and started toward Alessia.
She withdrew her hand from her overcoat to show me what she held in it—a gun. She aimed it at Macy’s head, which rested over my heart.
“It would be poetic, would it not? The two of you with one bullet?”
“Alessia, please,” I said but stopped speaking when she cocked the gun audibly.
Keeping it pointed at Macy and me, Alessia flicked a glance to the old woman on the front stoop and then back to Olly, who’d come to stand at my side, striking a protective posture.
“Your property?” Alessia sneered. “Perhaps you should have done a better job keeping this little runaway witch on your property, old crone. Perhaps then she wouldn’t have brought the source of your annihilation home with her onto your property. Oh, but I guess you don’t know about the Plague, do you?”
She lifted the hand that didn't hold the gun, wiggling her fingers at Olly. “I could take out a few of you with bullets, but one touch from my hand to this scrawny girl, and everyone in this county is dead—every human, that is. You and your coven have powers, but you are only human, and your precious little English rose here is carrying a new Black Death—one that will make the plague that wiped out sixty percent of Europe’s population in the fourteenth century look like child’s play. No doubt my darling betrothed and his nymph plaything came here trying to save her, trying to hide her from me and my ‘poison touch,’ but there are too many of them, my darling.”
She laughed. “Even if you’d managed to shield this girl, all it takes is one, and the whole world will eventually contract the disease. Why does it matter where it starts?”
I could have told Alessia about the cure—about the fact that we came here to heal Olly, not hide her, but not knowing how this would play out, I didn’t want to give her too much information. For all I knew, a carload of her henchmen would show up in a few minutes brandishing guns as well, and she could order them to search us and take the cure from Macy’s purse. Better that she remained ignorant of its existence for now.
Instead, I tried appealing to whatever shred of decency might be left in her. “You don’t want to do that, Alessia. I know you’re angry, but Olly is only a child, and the p
eople in this neighborhood, this county—this country—have never done anything to you. These are the same people who buy your albums and cheer for you in concert halls. They’re not your enemies.”
“She is,” Alessia said, waving the gun at Fenella. “She is,” she said, shifting until it pointed at Olly. “As soon as she’s grown and initiated, this child will hate you as much as the rest of her kind hate all of our kind. And she is definitely my enemy.”
Her arm swung to aim the pistol at Macy again. My heartbeat exploded, pounding so loudly in my ears it was almost disorienting.
“Don’t shoot the nymph,” Fenella pleaded. “I need her. I need her blood to heal my grandson.”
Ignoring her, Alessia continued to rage, tears running down her face, streaking her perfect makeup. “She’s taken everything from me. Look at you—even now, you’d rather die with her than give her up and marry me.”
Oh man, she was gone. How had she changed so drastically from the horse-loving fashionista princess, the talented and soulful singer she’d been when we’d first met?
She’d always been spoiled, but she hadn’t been evil. Now there was a very high likelihood she’d go ahead and pull that trigger, killing Olly or me. Or Macy. I had to get through to her somehow. I had to get Macy away from danger. Using my glamour, I looked into Alessia’s damaged, heavily guarded heart and unearthed her deepest desire.
“You’re wrong,” I said. Gingerly, I bent and lowered Macy to the ground. Then I raised my hands in front of me and paced slowly toward Alessia.
She waggled the gun. “Stop right there. What are you doing?”
“I’m coming with you. We’ll go home together—right now. I’ll marry you. You can keep that gun on me until the vows are said—I won’t try anything. I won’t back out on you. You have my word. If you leave Macy alone, if you do not harm this little girl, I will be your bond-mate for eternity.”
Her watchful gaze, which had been trained on the collection of women behind me, flew to my face. “Do you lie to me, Nicolo?”
