by A. M. Hodges
Slipping into bed, I pull out Homer's Odyssey and try to read. Realizing that I have made it through two books and have no recollection of what happened, I establish that reading just isn't going to happen tonight and set the book down on my nightstand and turn out the lights.
Slowly, I drift off to sleep.
Jebediah
I reach out to her again tonight. The plan was just to watch her like I usually do, but when I find her, she is sitting on the bank of what looks to be a river, arms wrapped around her legs with her chin resting on her knees. She's just staring blankly into the distance. Her eyes are so sad.
I can sense her confusion. I can feel her pain. It is so intense it feels like someone punched me in the gut and knocked the wind out of me. I hate that all of this is hurting her. I would do just about anything right now to relieve her pain, knowing instead that the information I hold will probably make it worse.
Not being able to stand it any longer, I go against all my instincts and training and walk over and crouch down in front of her. She moves her eyes to me and tilts her head, her eyes pleading.
Taking her hands in mine, I look into her eyes and say, "It's all going to be okay Reyna. It’ll get better. I'm here now, and I’ll fix it. I’ll fix all of it. I promise."
Chapter 6
It's been three days and I haven't seen or heard from Lucah.
He wasn't even in first period on Monday. It’s like he was only in class that one day to meet me. Which makes me feel less bad about being stalkery. I'm itching for answers, but I know that I won't be able to find them on my own. I'll just wait until he deigns to grace me with his presence, I guess.
I've tried doing some research on my wings over the last few days. The closest resemblance I can find is the wings of a vulture, and even they pale in comparison to how immaculate my wings are. They haven't made an appearance since Saturday. I've been going through my days like normal, only going to school, swim practice, and the gym. Lucky for me, Paisley caught the latest stomach bug and hasn't been at practice this week.
Sitting on my bed and flipping through my history book, I hear my phone chime on the dresser.
I walk over to pick it up, seeing a text from a number that I don't recognize.
L:'Meet me at this address. Seven o'clock sharp.'
Lucah? How did he even get my number?
Walking over to my nightstand to grab a sticky note, I jot down the address and look at the clock. 6:15. I go to my dresser and pull out my track suit. Since I am not sure where this address is, and I have to walk there, I leave now giving myself ample time to find the place. Wouldn't want to upset his lordship by being late.
I've only been to this part of town once. Jackson was investigating a fire that burned down a tourist bed and breakfast. We like to call it the wastes. No one lives here anymore; the neighborhood is completely abandoned. The creepiness of it is accented by the remains of the burnt down building.
The address that I am going to seems to be an old southern mansion at the end of the cul-de-sac. Feeling a bit uneasy, I climb the steps of the wrap around porch and knock on the door. Five minutes go by and I don’t hear even the slightest bit of movement from within the house.
When no one answers, I try the doorknob and find it unlocked. Stepping inside, I quietly close the door behind me and turn to look around. The place is abandoned, completely void of all furniture yet, I am still in awe looking at it. Holy shit. This place is beautiful. The original oak floors and the crown molding alone leave me breathless as I bring my hand up to my chest. I’ve always been a sucker for a house with history.
Not wanting to be too nosy, I look around from my position by the front door to get a better feel of the place. To my right, there is an entry way that leads into what looks to be a parlor room with slate colored walls. Centered on the wall parallel to me, there is a large stone fireplace. It looks like it has been a while since it has been used, the only remnants left are the ashes from a fire long ago extinguished.
To my left is another entry way leading to what looks to be a formal dining room. The walls are a deep burgundy with crown molding lining the length at the top of each wall. In the center of the room I am standing in, there is a split ivory staircase leading up to a second level. To the left of the staircase, there in a walkway that look like it leads to an eat in kitchen.
Looking to the top of the stairs, I see a man resting his arms on the banister, watching me intently. I know him.
The first things I recognize are his eyes. Those eyes of deep emerald green. The rest of him is, well, stunning, and a little overwhelming. His hair matches his eyes perfectly in color and is styled in what looks like various Viking braids. He skin is the color of caramel emphasized by the beige tunic and black cotton pants that he is wearing paired with brown combat boots.
His face is free of all blemishes, with a perfectly symmetrical nose and plump pink lips. The cut of his jaw could slice through a loaf of bread. Looking at his arms, I see the familiar navy-blue markings trailing in a line down each arm, peeking out from under his shirt and extending to his wrist bones. His face breaks out into a hypnotizing smile, revealing extended canines that hide behind his closed lips. Holy fuck. That smile. I think my ovaries just imploded.
"Hello, Reyna," his voice thunders throughout the mansion.
His accent is thicker than in my dreams. Racking my brain, I try to place the dialect and the closest thing that I can come up with is Russian. No. that’s not it either. It’s rough and brutal and smooth and lilting all at the same time. Like the easy flow of Italian and the abruptness of Russian or Gaelic. Even that doesn't do justice to explaining the sound of his voice.
As he begins to stride down the stairs, Lucah appears from the kitchen grinning at me.
"Reyna darling," he croons as he saunters over to me, "I see you have met my companion."
"Who-who are you?" I stutter, still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that he is real. And he is standing in front of me.
He chuckles, "My name is Jebediah, but you can call me Jeb," he towers over me and extends his hand.
"Pleasure," I utter taking his hand, a bit unsure of what is going on. A zap of electricity travels up my arm as our hands touch, leaving my skin covered in goose bumps.
He then leans down and plants a soft kiss on my knuckles before releasing my hand. Watching Lucah roll his eyes, I quickly bring my arm back to me and clasp my hands behind my back.
Someone is extra sassy today.
After clearing his throat, Lucah starts, "I know that you have some questions, and it is time that we give you some answers," he motions for me to follow him up the stairs, Jeb falling in line behind me.
"What am I?" I look at Lucah as we enter the study on the left side of the stairs. I can't bring myself to look at Jeb. If I do, I will just stare, and I was raised that staring is impolite, so I study the rug at my feet instead.
"First," he begins signaling for me to take a seat, "we should provide a little back story as to who we are." Oh, right. That makes sense. Probably should have been my first question.
"We are the people from a continent called Malatia, and we have come to take you home," the stranger that I now know as ‘Jeb’ states mater-of-factly.
"Home?" I scoff, "What do you mean home? THIS is my home. This town," I hiss at him.
"This is not your home Reyna," Jeb looks increasingly irritated, "this place is where you were raised, but it is not the world you were born to."
At that I stand up and turn to narrow my eyes at him.
"What do you mean world? This is the only world. The REAL world," my wings tear out from their hiding place.
"There are many things that you do not yet know," he makes his point as he waves a hand at my wings, "you will come to understand them in time. Because things like the wings sticking out of your back don’t exist in your version of the REAL world." The snark in his voice is thick as he throws my words back at me.
Seems like I’m not t
he only one with a hair triggered temper.
Okay. First, I need to retract my wings. Taking a few moments to calm down, I wait to respond until they are gone.
"Moving on," Lucah interrupts, "I am born to a race called Shvetlani. I believe you humans call us witches. Or Gypsies. Really, it’s more complex than that."
I turn to Lucah and arch my brow at him, "So? What? You have magical powers or something?" I say sarcastically.
He laughs at that, "Not exactly. There are some of us who possess abilities, or magical powers as you put them, but I was born a shifter."
"Shifter? As in you can turn yourself into something else.
Like a lamp or a postage stamp. What do you shift into?"
At that, his face turns into a menacing grin. Why do I suddenly feel like I am going to regret asking?
My jaw drops as, within seconds, the man in front of me disappears and a five-foot black panther is left in his place. Oh my damn, that thing has to be at least three hundred and fifty pounds. Probably more, considering normal sized tigers weigh around four hundred. It pads over to me and lowers its head for me to touch, the only thing bearing a resemblance to Lucah being its ice-blue eyes. I reach up and stroke its ears, and it lets out a deep purr.
"Show off," Jeb scoffs from his position in the corner leaning against the wall, looking even more annoyed with his arms crossed over his chest. I swear the cat laughs before transforming, once again leaving Lucah standing in front of me.
"Wow- oh I think I need to sit down."
Lucah sits down beside me as I plop down gracelessly on the vintage leather couch. He eyes me worriedly, like I might be on the verge of a mental breakdown. He’s honestly not wrong to feel that way at this point.
"Are you okay?" he asks timidly.
I suck in a deep breath, "Yeah," I release the breath, "Are all shifters like you? Do they turn into giant cats?"
"Not all of them," he explains, "I was born into a bloodline of felines. My mother shifts into a leopard, my father a snow tiger, and my sister a cougar. I am a panther, like my grandmother was.
There are other bloodlines though. Canines, reptiles, birds....... arachnids." he teases
"ARACHNIDS," I screech, "Some of you can turn into giant freaking spiders! Oh no, no freaking thank you! I do not want to meet them. Ever. Lose their Christmas cards in the mail. If they show up, I will be packing bug spray." This earns me a chuckle from Jeb.
Turning to look at him, I cock my head in question, "What are you? Are you also Shvetlani?"
His amusement drops instantly and the devious smirk on
Lucah's face is almost enough to make me regret the question, again. Combine that with the withering glare that Jeb is now shooting at him and I am now wishing that a black hole would appear and swallow me up.
"Yes Jeb," Lucah taunts, "please do tell the lady, what are you?"
Jeb just stands there tensely, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides.
"Oh, come on now Jeb," Lucah croons, "don't keep her waiting. Can't you see that the suspense is killing her? She did ask you nicely after all. What kind of gentleman would you be if you denied her your answer? So rude."
I watch as Jeb's jaw ticks and he starts to clench his teeth.
"I'm a..." he pauses again. Lucah's grin has turned downright feral.
Jeb sighs and drops his head in defeat, "I'm a pixie," he mumbles. I sit there for a minute, coming to terms with what he just said.
"Like...like Tinkerbell?" I ask timidly. A cackle bubbles out of Lucah before he doubles over into hysterics.
"Humans and their ridiculous Disney movies," he snaps as
Lucah wipes the tears from his eyes trying to compose himself.
"Oh-Oh now that is good," he gasps holding his stomach between fits of laughter. He throws his hand up for a high-five from me which earns him another glare from Jeb.
After he finally calms down, the seriousness returns to the room.
"What am I?" I utter.
"You," Jeb starts, "Are the result of a peace brokered many centuries ago."
"Centuries? As in years? And in hundreds?" Jesus, how old is this guy.
"Yes," he confirms, "many centuries ago, a civil war broke out on the continent. A peace treaty was made by the joining of two royal bloodlines, the Pixies and the Valkyn. You Reyna, are the product of that treaty. You, and your twin brother. You are hybrids."
Royal? Hybrid? Brother? I have a brother? Not just a brother. A twin.
My head begins to spin again as I rest my face in my hands with my elbows on my knees.
"I have a brother?" I whimper looking up at him. Jeb nods his head sympathetically as Lucah begins rubbing my back. I can see Jeb tense slightly out of the corner of my eye.
"His name is Rune," he begins again, "but he thought that you died when you were a baby. It wasn't until he started feeling you through your bond five years ago that he figured out you were alive. We have been searching and preparing to retrieve you ever since."
"When?" I whisper, "when did he start to feel me?"
"Exactly a week after your thirteenth birthday," Lucah replies softly.
Sunday. The day I will never forget. The day that the first mark appeared. I think I'm going to throw up. "Does he have them too? The marks?"
They both nod.
"Rune is a carbon copy of you," says Lucah, "the only difference being that he is male and wears his hair in a ridiculous man-bun. Plus, all Pixies have marks. You can see some of Jeb’s on his arms."
I try not to drool over the fact that the word ‘some’ implicates that there are possibly more under than shirt of his. A welcome distraction indeed.
"Your eyes and height come from your Valkyn half. They are above average human height, but still smaller than Pixies," explains Jeb, his confidence returning with the mention of the size difference, "and every Valkyn shares your golden eyes."
"Your wings," Lucah chimes in, "are a shared trait of both sides. The style of them, however, is the same as the Valkyn. Your hair also comes from the Pixie side, if you couldn't tell by looking at Tinkerbell over there," he jests in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Jeb grunts as I turn to look at him, "You have wings too?"
Now it’s his turn to smile devilishly. He nods and steps proudly into the center of the room. A whoosh sounds as his wings flare out behind him. My jaw drops as I stare at him in awe. If I knew any better, with the way his wings just moved, I’d say that he’s preening at my attention.
His wings are just as stunning as he is. In a daze, I walk over to him and place my hand on the inside of his right wing as I study it. Jeb trembles as my hand makes contact. The texture of his wings is amazing, scaled like a reptile, warm and smooth against my palm. They match his hair in color, but they seem to have a shimmer to them. Quite a bit bigger than mine, they resemble the wings of a dragon, having one bone claw curving at the tip of each side.
Lucah lets out an awkward cough that snaps me out of my daze and I quickly retract my hand. Rolling his shoulders back, Jeb’s wings suddenly disappear.
"Wha-how did you do that? It didn't even look painful for you."
"I will teach you," he smiles, "and the pain will subside in time. For now, I think you have had enough answers for today. We don't want to overwhelm you," he shoots a warning look at Lucah.
"But- "
"There will be time for more answers Reyna," Lucah interrupts, "we aren't going anywhere. Not without you. For now, you need time to process. Go home, get some rest and come to terms with all that we have told you."
Knowing that I am not going to win this fight, I turn and exit the study.
The temperature has dropped again. Winter is around the corner. Wrapping my arms around myself to stifle the chill, I begin my walk home and try to grasp everything that I just learned.
I need a drink.
Chapter 7
My phone chimes as I walk through the front door. Jackson is starting his hell week, so he won't be home t
onight. Good. Time to break out the tequila.
Hell week usually starts on Tuesday. Jackson alternates between working twenty-four hours on duty where he eats, sleeps, and showers at the station and then twenty-four hours off where he comes home. He does this until the following Monday. I guess he offered to take someone's shift because tonight is supposed to be the night that he is home. I really wish he would stop doing that. He is never home as it is, and he is under so much stress. Plus, I kind of miss the old man.
With my mind set on getting drunk, I saunter to the kitchen and cut up a few limes before putting them on a plate and grabbing some tequila from the liqueur cabinet. Wiping the dust from the bottle, I wonder when the last time we opened this cabinet was. We pretty much have a fully stocked bar in that thing, but I have no idea why. It isn't like Jackson is a socialite that throws parties on a regular basis.
I don't even think I've seen the man drink a beer before, which is a bonus for me since it means that he won't notice anything missing. I take my goodies into the living room and place everything on the coffee table next to the chaise. Tossing back my first shot, I stand up and retrieve my speakers from upstairs.
After setting them with everything else on the table, I sync up my phone and dance back to the tequila bottle as Palisades 'Bad Girls' blares through the speakers.
