Elusion (Facets of Feyrie Book 1)

by Zoe Parker

  Where the hell am I? Where is Phobe? Did it work? Is he free? Or is Arick making him do horrible things?

  Panic has my heart beating so fast that I’m becoming light headed. With pure will, I take a deep breath through my nose and exhale through my mouth. Doing this several more times finally brings my panic under control and gives my fuzzy brain a few minutes to get the train back on the rails.

  It isn’t completely dark. Not that the dark matters, I can see in it, after all. Light filters in through curtains that are tucked around a large square window. The curtains move gently as the wind blows, just enough for me to see that the glass panes are broken out.

  Slowly I become aware of other things.

  The mattress under me feels like a cloth covered board and smells like someone peed on it for two weeks straight, but the blanket on it smells new and faintly of Phobe and…Jameson?

  There is another too, I’m just not familiar with…her smell.

  The floor is littered with garbage and the walls are covered in various colored words, some rather dirty. An empty doorway is the only entrance to the room, and outside the doorway, I can make out a hallway.

  The room holds a variety of smells, some I am familiar with, some I’m not. Some I’m glad I’m not familiar with. My eyes finally find what I’m looking for. A bright yellow bucket in the corner with a roll of toilet paper next to it.

  After stumbling over and doing my business I walk back towards the bed. I have no idea where I am so—

  “You haven’t changed much over the years.” The female voice surprises and I trip on a piece of cardboard on the floor. I grunt as pain shoots through me. Hunched over, I turn to the doorway to see the woman whose voice about made me face plant.

  Way to be observant, Iza.

  “Who are you?” I ask, watching the woman warily. As she comes closer her brows draw together in a frown. The more I look at her, the more familiar she seems. I’ve seen her somewhere before, met her maybe.

  She’s beautiful, that’s for sure. Delicate looking. A Feyrie…but not. It’s odd how the brain has a way of remembering pretty people. Yet the memory I have of this woman isn’t coming forward like it should. It’s a disturbing feeling.

  Somehow my brain spits out what she is. Dragon. Standing before me is a fucking dragon in human form. That’s something I never thought to see. I just wish I knew who she is.

  “The night you were born, was the best night of my Lady’s life. You were such a beautiful baby, with those big dark eyes and ringlets of red hair.” The woman smiles a sort of sad smile and steps closer.

  I just watch her, having one of those weird feelings that she’s saying something important.

  My gut is something I do trust.

  “You were there when I was born?” I ask carefully.

  She closes the final bit of distance between us and stands face to face with me. God, her face looks so freaking familiar, and I can’t put my damn finger on it. The strength of that feeling of familiarity makes my skin itch.

  I want to ask about Phobe, but I hold my tongue. What if this is some sort of weird trap? I size her up in a different way.

  She is taller than me, a good three to four inches, very thin, belying her commanding presence, but she isn’t thin in a twiggy way; it’s different somehow, almost serpentine. Her hair is white with highlights of gold. Her eyes a bright spring green, swirling with power, eyes that appear to be looking into my soul.

  Old eyes.

  “Of course, I was, silly girl. I delivered you, after all.”

  At those words, everything dulls, the pain, the darkness, everything but the woman standing in front of me. Remaining still as a statue when she gently touches my cheek, I fight the compulsion to turn away or lash out. The gesture itself is pure motherly. Frowning again her green eyes flare with anger.

  “They’ve hurt you so much. Your mother would murder the lot of them.” Her words reach down inside of me and ease some of the old pains.

  She soothes my hot forehead with a cool hand and the pain fades even more. My skin tingles as I feel something slide across it. Magiks, healing ones.

  I won’t complain. These are the good kind of Magiks.

  I consider her closely. This woman knows my real mother well enough to be there when I was born? It’s a distinct possibility. I was kidnapped by the woman named Mary who I had called Ma as a child. I shiver at the thought of the long-dead woman. In some ways, she was worse than Paul.

  I celebrated their deaths with a six pack of root beer and a VHS movie marathon—covered in their blood. That is exactly how the authorities found me standing in the front yard. It wasn’t exactly a normal way to celebrate…murder.

  Nothing in my life has ever been normal, though. I turn my attention back to the moment at hand. It isn’t good to get lost in your head when you can get stabbed in the face.

  “You know my mother well then?” I ask, taking a step back to put distance between us.

  “I did. She was a great woman, your mother. I can see her in you.” The woman purses her lips and nods her head. “I’m Nika, I was your mother’s lady in waiting.” A lady in what? The confusion must be showing on my face because Nika smiles. “I’ll explain it to you one day. Here, this was your mother.” I am still foggy but I catch the ‘was’. Which answers another question.

  People only talk about someone in past tense when they don’t exist anymore.

  Feeling like the world is caving in on my head, I look at the picture the woman, Nika, is holding in her hand. Hands shaking, I take it, holding it like it will bite me. Eyes wide, I blink and stare down at the face of the woman that supposedly birthed me.

  This woman and I do indeed share some physical similarities; the same hair, the lift of our cheekbones, the same mouth. Even so, I by no means have a smidgen of the beauty she does—did.

  “She always thought you had your father’s eyes, but her smile…in that I’d have to agree.”

  Staring at the picture, I don’t answer right away. With a surety that surprises me, I know that Nika isn’t lying. The woman in the picture is my mother.

  “I don’t…remember.” I murmur.

  “She searched for you every day until her death. I imagine your father continues to search. He doesn’t strike me as the type to give up.” Doesn’t?

  That isn’t past tense. Is my father still alive?

  I look up and meet Nika’s green eyes.

  “He will be along shortly, I bet. Don’t be too hard on him. Either of them. They love you more than anything.” Nika glides forward and puts her cool hand on my burning hot forehead.

  I freeze at the touch. Held in place by Magiks.

  “They hid you well, giving you that poison. Keeping you separated from the darkness. Hiding your memories behind that filthy blood Magiks.” Nika’s face softens even more.

  Suddenly tears glisten in her eyes and begin to fall.

  Memories rush into my mind. Memories of a face identical to the one I’m looking at right now. Unlined by sadness, smiling in happiness. And two other faces. Faces that blend into my own.

  Several minutes pass as they flood my mind. The first years of my life returning to me in a rush. My heart clenches with every single one. I know they’re true, and I know this is what’s been hidden for so very long.

  “Your real trials are about to begin. And you need all the help you can get. I have waited a long time to repay the debt I owe you and your mother. Since she was taken from us I have carried around something that was meant to go to you. I know that you have already seen much but there is very little time to prepare you.” Nika’s voice grows louder with each word.

  The wind begins to swirl around us, creating a garbage tornado. The curtains are torn from the window, flapping loudly in the stillness of the room. In her eyes, I see a reflection of my own.

  For a few seconds, I see a glimpse of my mother.

  “Daughter.” The voice echoes around me. Bringing the sting of tears to my eyes. “Since
I cannot be here to help you, to guide you, to love you, I will give you what is left of myself. You have considerable powers of your own but I gift you with mine. With it comes experience, memory. Awaken, Daughter. Awaken and claim your place of power.” The voice grows as the power swells in the room, becoming a writhing black shadow around Nika.

  It raises its head, and for a moment, a great black dragon looks down with pure love showing in its vivid green eyes before diving into me.

  My breath leaves me in a rush, and I’m frozen with my arms thrown out from me.

  “Trust very few Daughter, a creature made of darkness and death is your champion and you are the monster’s heart. Welcome the nightmares of old, for they will give their life for you. Embrace your father, my heart, he needs you as you need him. Forgive me.”

  The words are whispers from all around me. Rushed.

  As I’m lifted off the ground in a vortex of power, the room around me begins to feel the brunt of the Magiks. The walls crack, the bed flies against the wall. All while my mother’s memories mesh with my own. New and old. Nika falls back with a sad smile on her face, disappearing in an explosion of green smoke.

  I tip my head back and roar.

  Thirty-One

  Phobe

  Jameson expressed his doubt of her survival so often that I finally growled at him to shut him up. She survived, I did not leave it to chance. Now, she is in a near comatose state in an abandoned house not too far from the store Jameson is in.

  Getting food, he says.

  I know he is full of shit. Jameson simply goes there to stare at the females. They gather here in ridiculous numbers, like a gaggle of geese, his dick is leading him to trouble again.

  Nika asked for some time with Iza, and I came along to make sure he does not do something idiotic and gets caught, unaware. He will end up leading them directly to where Iza lies helpless.

  That I cannot have.

  For the time being, she is safe. Iza will be able to heal a little before we move on or at least long enough for her to get some of her strength back and for me to do what I need to do.

  I feel the presence of my freed Magiks shifting under my skin. Restless. All because Iza freed them because she made the ultimate sacrifice. Unease causes it to twitch again. It feels strange to not have her near. I held her in my arms so often lately they feel empty without her.

  The bond between us pulls taut, blazing to life in a brilliant wash of heat. The roar echoes through my mind, through the air around me. Iza!

  Pain, I feel her pain.

  My power bursts out of me, and I become something else entirely. A form I have not worn for centuries. A form that will allow me to move faster than normal. Allows me to fly. I had no idea I could change into this form still. It will serve its purpose once again. Alarms on cars and buildings blare as I rip past, so fast that no one will know what is passing them.

  Not that I give a shit, regardless.

  I drop through the roof of the house, with a crash of shingles and rotten wood, into the hallway outside of the room I left her in. I see her laying halfway on the floor and bed, pale, unconscious, but still alive. Her heartbeat is strong and steady.

  Nika lays a few feet away from her, unconscious as well. I ignore her for now and go to Iza. Climbing on the bed, I pull her with me. Paranoid, I double check for the pulse of life within her. It’s there stronger than ever. The tightness inside of me eases.

  I search my borrowed memories for the emotion that coursed through me minutes before. Anxiety is the resounding answer. Being anxious is not something I am comfortable with. I want to hate it. I want to hate her.

  She makes me feel. She makes me care. She makes me want. This woman makes me too fucking soft.

  ‘Phobe’

  My name, her name for me whispers through my mind. Giving in to the impulse I bury my face in her hair and wait. Forgetting, for now, that I do not want to want this.

  Thirty-Two

  Phobe

  The rustle of Nika’s clothing announces her return to consciousness. “She needs to purge all of the metal.” At Nika’s words, I lay Iza on the bed and tuck a blanket around her, moving away.

  Nika is a stranger no matter her intentions towards Iza.

  “How did it get in her?” Jameson asks, coming into the room—or what is left of it.

  “If I had to guess, they fed it to her. We need to take her to my home. It’s safer there, I have wards and she will be able to recover in peace.” Nika states while packing up our meager supplies.

  This time, there is no reason to deny going to her home. Nika proved she will not harm Iza.

  Hunger tightens my senses. I need to feed. My eyes narrow on Nika, the strongest of the two potential meals in the room. I can eat her. But Iza will not be pleased. Why do I care? I am getting low on energy and there is food right there in front of me. I look down at Iza’s still face. The hunger fades.

  Fine. I shall eat elsewhere.

  “Jameson find us transportation.” I look closely at him. Weighing his Magiks.

  Will it upset her if I eat Jameson? Not that he can do more than take the edge off my hunger. Jameson doesn’t have much substance. While Nika can stave off the hunger for a few days.

  Looking at Iza again I determine I will, definitely, eat elsewhere. I expect them to realize that in a situation where I need energy, they are both on the menu. Whether it displeases Iza or not.

  “Right, I found something called Uber. They should be here in 15 minutes or we get five dollars off our fare. Amazing, the things they have here. I see why the Schoth are so primed to steal their technology.” Jameson muses while staring at the cell device in his hand.

  15 minutes. I can keep from consuming them for 15 minutes.

  Thirty-Three

  Phobe

  “Any change?” Jameson asks from the doorway. I wipe Iza’s forehead with the soaked cloth I hold, then toss it to the floor with the others. Iza has been steadily sweating the black sludge out since we got into the ‘Uber’.

  That was an awful experience, and I would rather not repeat it. The man drove at unsafe speeds while pushing buttons on his phone. Which means he did not have his eyes on the road. I almost killed the driver because at one point, when I slid all the way across the back seat, I thought letting Jameson drive might be safer.

  Thinking that made me want to kill the driver even more.

  “It will be over soon. It’s almost completely out of her system.” Nika speaks from beside Jameson who startles like a girl and releases the pan of water in his hands, spilling it all over himself. Nika rolls her eyes at him and comes further into the room.

  "It’s metal made with the blood used in the spell to bind her. It was probably put in her food for years. It’s much better that it comes out of her,” she continued.

  I remain silent. Part of me wants to wring her neck for hurting Iza. The fact that she brought us here, helped, keeps her breathing. For now.

  Also, I cannot say I am unhappy that Nika insisted we come here. It is much more comfortable than our previous residence.

  Then again, anything is more comfortable than prison.

  “What are you going to do if they find us here? Jameson asks. “I’m a lover, not a fighter, and Nika is too small to do anything. All they have to do with you is hold the shiny rock out and—Ow!”

  Nika cuffs him in the back of the head, hard.

  “How can someone so smart be so stupid?” She asks in exasperation.

  My attention is all on Iza—something is changing in her. I can smell it, feel it coming from her skin. In reaction, my own skin feels as if there are a thousand invisible fingers touching me.

  “The Stone was destroyed, you idiot,” Nika says. “Phobe is perfectly capable of defending her. What did they teach you in that stupid Clan of theirs? Obviously not anything useful.” Nika grumbles, coming close to Iza to check her temperature. I growl when she touches Iza. Her face pales. “He has no idea what you are?” she whispers, jus
t loud enough for me to hear.

  None of them, save one, knows. And Iza does not know everything. No one does, not even those who think they do. Ignorant mortals.

  “I’m just saying, it’s something we need to worry about,” Jameson continues, moving out of range of Nika.

  “God Jameson, shut up.” Iza’s voice jerks me out of my thoughts. She snuggles deeper against my leg on the bed and sighs. I freeze. She is fully awake. Snuggling me. Awake.

  Should I move away from her? Is she seeking comfort? Do I give it to her? I pat her head awkwardly. How does one deal with this emotional garbage without going completely insane?

  “Well, that’s interesting,” Nika says with a chuckle. Jameson huffs on about being unappreciated.

  “Come on then, boy. We need to find a way to get her to the Sidhe.” With a firm grip, Nika grabs Jameson by the arm and drags him from the room.

  “Don’t you dare move,” Iza whispers to me, locking me in place. This is a comfort to her? I suppose I can do this. All it requires is for me to stay in the same position.

  What can it harm? She has already made me fucking soft.

  Thirty-Four

  Iza

  Shell-shocked is a good term to describe how I’m feeling. To wake up with the formerly blank parts my life restored…fuck. It feels like I’m internally suffocating in emotions. Emotions I don’t know how to untangle myself from.

  Plus, my mother’s memories. Some of these I can do without. Like my Dad naked. Ew.

  Memories of my birth are a movie in my mind. Her joy at seeing me for the first time, all drippy and gucky, screaming at the top of my lungs. The strength of the emotion in that moment, the unadulterated love, are—were only slightly rivaled by her love for my father.

  My mother loved me more than anything in existence.

  Another memory of a small chubby child with red curls toddling through a sunlit room, my mother’s arms reaching out for that child. Feeling pride in her. My memory of that moment surfaces, obviously I was that child, I remember looking up into her face. Green eyes bright with happiness and her hair blowing around her, loose. My Mom saw me as her world. What she didn’t know was that I had just eaten a bug and was feeling awfully proud of myself too.