Elusion (Facets of Feyrie Book 1)

by Zoe Parker

  Now to see what a maxi pad is.

  Thirty-Seven

  Iza

  I love this realm’s food. Seriously. Phobe brought me 2 bags full of greasy goodness yesterday with those long, fried potato things. I’m pretty sure my mouth had an orgasm.

  After eating more food than I can remember having, well, since I was a kid I watched TV all night. The TV is something I am familiar with. The Schoth brought a lot of these human gadgets to our world.

  The originals, here, are much better.

  The couch is where I decided to hide from life. I haven’t left it—other than to use the bathroom and shower, since yesterday. With a groan, I lean my head on the back on the couch. This is real, right? I’m not going to wake up still in that shit hole being cut to pieces with Light Magiks, right? I pinch myself just to be sure.

  “Ow.” Okay, so that hurt.

  ‘That was stupid.’ Oh well, if this is a delusion it’s good to know that Phobe is still a dick.

  “Where are you?” But really, I know. I can feel him inside of me, not in a fun way.

  I woke up this morning and could no longer deny that my entire world is shifted on its axis. Parents, memories, Phobe saving me, cheeseburgers.

  So much to see and do.

  Jameson also mentioned the Google God and I am curious what all it’ll tell me. I have lots of questions. Mostly where to get more cheeseburgers.

  I smell Nika coming before she enters the room. Hell.

  “Have you put any thought into going with us to the Sidhe?” Nika likes to think I’m still going to do the whole fated thing. She’s the delusional one.

  “You and Jameson are going.” This was the third time we’ve had this discussion. I’m not going. Fate can suck my butthole.

  “Iza, fate—” Sitting up I glare at her.

  “No. You two can go. Period.” I’m done arguing about it. “Before you open your mouth to argue, again, think really hard. I’m not a child, Nika. No one tells me what to do anymore.”

  Her lips purse as she regards me.

  Turning the TV up louder I focus on it instead of her. I’ll end up getting angry and saying something rude.

  “Please, Iza, at least, write me a list of things you’ll need and I’ll get them. Jameson and I will go ahead of you and have things ready.”

  That I will take her up on, the list part. Taking the small notebook and pen she hands me I write down the things I think I’ll need, keeping it simple.

  I can only fit so much in a backpack.

  Handing her back the notebook I turn back to the TV but my mind isn’t on it. Why am I not making plans of Phobe being with me? Nothing I listed will serve him.

  My gut says he isn’t staying.

  That’s exactly what it is. Honestly, I didn’t expect to find him here when I woke up. I figured he would run off to whatever scary place he came out of. Or go on a killing spree in Schoth-ville.

  Actually, I didn’t expect to wake up at all. Surprise!

  Yesterday, in my head, of course, he patiently explained to me what he knew of this world to me. Preparing me, that’s what he was really doing, to survive in this world.

  Really though, is it fair of me to expect him to stay? Phobe was at the whim of others for so long. Doesn’t he deserve his complete freedom?

  No, it’s not fair for me to have any kind of expectation. But isn’t it okay for me to hope? No. No, it’s not. Hope means hurt. Why would a creature like him stay and hang around my dumb ass? Wandering around the world doing absolutely nothing worthwhile. Someone like him needs a task. A reason for existence, right?

  Some grand bullshit thing.

  I have no real clue because he hasn’t spoken to me about any of his intentions. Just made me memorize some the things I should pay attention to in this realm.

  Maybe he just needs to run around and hump or eat everything in sight? My stomach clenches at the thought of him humping anything. Jealousy is stupid Iza. Stop it.

  I have no right to assume anything about him. Good or bad. We shared horrible experiences. Helped each other survive. That doesn’t make us anything other than two people who know each other.

  I’m silly to think otherwise. Standing, I start picking up my mess. Time to get off the couch.

  Thirty-Eight

  Phobe

  This part of things is turning out to be harder than I imagined it to be. None of this was expected. I always believed that if I were free again, I would kill all the Light Fey. All of them. I would burn their world to the ground and then I would move onto the next. I would become what I am destined to be.

  This was before Iza changed it all.

  She’s the reason I must do something I am, genuinely, torn about. Because it is the only way to ensure I can do what needs to be done for her. What I will do for her.

  A continuation of what started so very long ago.

  The moment I became aware, existed, my darkness touched everything and was everywhere. All creatures that crawl. Every shadow, every nook, and hole. All Magiks in all the realms. Darkness, taking, giving. Feeling nothing but primal instincts. No desires, no pain. Just doing what I was designed to do.

  Then one day a creature called to me. Called to me and tried to trap me. I devoured him for his arrogance and when his emotions touched mine, I was overwhelmed by his anger and his greed for power. They took me over, these emotions I never felt before.

  I conquered and pillaged and destroyed. I consumed. As I consumed I learned. As I learned I changed. Soon enough, in my borrowed wisdom, I thought to bring the world to peace. To make them stop destroying themselves.

  Because I believed it, it must be right. Others thought differently.

  They came together—enemies became allies.

  Calling on ancient Magiks, they bound me to the Stone and, for irony’s sake, the base form of that first creature I consumed. Because I went too far, so they say. They ended up almost destroying each other anyway. With me as their tool. Irony, indeed.

  Unknowingly, they also made me part of something else.

  I stare at the foggy bathroom mirror a moment longer and then walk out of the room. Stopping next to the bed to look down at Iza, I expect to find her in the bed after she took a 45-minute long shower. Instead, she is lying on the floor curled up into a ball, with all four of the pillows from the bed around her. Much like I’ve gotten in the habit of holding her. A habit I want to give into right now.

  Instead, I am standing here watching her sleep, her mouth slightly open, a little drool coming out the corner of it.

  I smile despite myself.

  Squatting down I move her hair off her face and tuck it behind her ear. Sleepily it rubs me back carefully keeping their little sharp teeth to themselves. This next part isn’t going to be easy. Just necessary. Leaning forward on one knee I kiss her open mouth. Tasting her.

  I will return. Standing before I allow temptation to rule me I strengthen my resolve and walk out of the room without a backward glance.

  One look will be my downfall.

  Thirty-Nine

  Iza

  As soon as my eyes open, I know he’s gone. The lack of his electrifying presence in our bond leaves a hollowness inside of me. Phobe hasn’t severed it but he is so far away I can barely feel him. It aches, so much more than I expected, but really, I understand.

  Right?

  I’ll keep telling myself this until I believe it.

  Pushing those feelings deep down inside, concerning the entire thing I stumble into the bathroom to take another shower. I can’t stop taking them. After being dirty for so long I am obsessed with showering.

  Except for this time, the aim is to take a much quicker one than the night before. Fooling with my stubborn hair takes longer than anything. It’s a writhing mass of little sharp teeth and affection. Quite adorable really.

  Makes me smile a little.

  Eventually, it cooperates and I start brushing my teeth while in the shower. Wow, does it feel good to brush
my teeth. Grabbing a big fluffy towel, and climbing out of the steamy cubicle I walk around the bathroom, dripping wet and naked, I relish in this tooth brushing moment. I’m amazed I have any teeth left but the whole not being human thing worked out.

  While toweling my hair I look up into the mirror and freeze. The toothbrush falls out of my gaping mouth into the sink.

  I must know I can never be bound again.

  I will return, Iza.

  P

  So, he didn’t leave just for the hell of it after all. He left to go make sure they can’t turn him into a slave again. But more importantly, he’s coming back.

  He’s coming back.

  I exhale in relief and wipe the toothpaste from my mouth. Reading the words again, annoyance flashes through me because I’m relieved. Damnit.

  Knowing him, there’s a good reason he left the message this way. I swipe the towel across it. It comes right back. A wisp of my Magiks flicks out and the mirror shatters.

  Now I owe Nika a mirror.

  Drying off, I walk into the bedroom heading straight for my clothes. I am thankful for everything Nika has done but I’ll not be heading for the ‘fated’ place. She is already there, with Jameson. They can have fun, hang out together. Throw slumber parties, for all I care.

  I’m not going there. But I am going from here. Something inside of me is making me restless. Edgy to move. So move I shall.

  I survey everything that’s laid out on the bed. Some of the items I requested, some were added by someone else.

  At my request, Nika bought me some comfortable clothes before she left, jeans, plain tee shirts, hoodies. Thick black socks and a pair of boots. I dress in one set of clothes and shove the rest in the black backpack next to them. A map that has Phobe’s elegant scrawl on it. The small notebook and pen also go in the bag.

  The wad of money and cell phone go in my pocket, along with a bank card to get more money if I need it. The pin number I’ve already memorized. My mother was wealthy and what was hers is now mine.

  To be fair, I’d rather be dirt poor and have my mother alive.

  “Hello, Dove.” I don’t jump at the voice, but I just barely catch it.

  “Hello, Dad,” I say without turning. My hands shake with nervousness and I don’t want him to see. I’m relatively honest about myself and how I feel about things.

  I’m afraid. Afraid that when I turn around he will see the woman who lived in filth for decades and be ashamed of me. Ashamed of what I did to survive. Ashamed of who I became. Ashamed to have me as his daughter.

  The memories I have of him are those of a small child. Him smiling down at me arms outstretched to pick me up. Holding me close to watch the firebugs. Taking me to see what he did for “work”. Kissing my Boo-boos. The love he shared with my mother.

  “I’m proud of you. Proud of you for surviving, proud of you for coming out of all of that—” I can hear his teeth grinding together as he speaks. “—I am so sorry Dove, this is all my fault.”

  I swing around to him hearing the pain in his voice that matches the pain in my heart.

  Looking him in the face for the first time in so long takes my breath away. No one can ever say he isn’t my father. We even frown the same. Which strangely, makes me smile.

  “Mom thought the same thing. You can’t feel responsible for what some asshole did. I know you didn’t stop looking.”

  And he didn’t. I know that. Just like I don’t blame either of them. Because I know why I was taken.

  I was taken by some person I can’t remember and stuck with Paul and Pretend Ma, Mary. Stuck there because of some stupid prophecy that has nothing to do with me. Absolutely impossible that it’s about me. Right?

  My parents literally ripped places apart looking for me. My mother, so desperate sometimes…dragons can only have one child, ever, I’m that child. Dragon’s maternal instincts are phenomenal. And my father, my poor father.

  He lost us both.

  Slowly, I step forward. There is so much pain in his dark eyes. Eyes just like mine. Awkwardly, I take the final step clearing the distance between us and wrap my arms around his waist.

  For two breaths he stands there, and afraid I messed up I go to pull away. He catches me and crushes me to him. I bury my face in his chest and draw in the scent of my childhood. All the love I felt for him as a child fills some of those empty places in my heart.

  All the love I feel for him now.

  ‘I love you too, dove.’

  I laugh unable to help it.

  “Goddamn mind readers.”

  Forty

  Iza

  A few hours after my Dad left I find myself standing in the middle of a sidewalk, downtown, with no idea where to go. The good thing is, it’s late, so there aren’t many people about. Not that I can call them ‘people’. This town is full of Dragons.

  Dragons I want to avoid.

  Pulling out the cell phone, I open The Google God. Phobe said to be careful using Ubie as a taxi service. Ubor? Oh, auto-fill is my friend, Uber. An account is required? What the hell is this? Reading quickly, I thumb through the instructions. With a few finger taps, I’ve set up an account, paid, and an Uber on its way to get me.

  I want to see if this Uber is as dangerous as Phobe said.

  The car arrives faster than I expect it to. Standing outside the open door, I consider the interior and my nose wrinkles. The car stinks. Seriously stinks. Hesitantly, I get into the backseat and try to avoid touching things more than necessary.

  “Where to? You didn’t specify.” The driver, a thin, dark-haired man who smells faintly of cigar smoke, asks while writing something on a clipboard.

  “The next town, West.” I’m fully aware that the place I don’t want to go is west, I’m totally not going there, I’m just heading in that direction because the other way is the ocean.

  I don’t feel like crossing the ocean.

  “Are you from here?”

  I look up when he speaks but say nothing. Our conversation will just be awkward, and I’m not really in the mood. Turning up the radio he fills the silence.

  That I’m okay with. As a child, I loved music. I still do. But this crap coming out of his speakers isn’t appealing. I say nothing to him about it though, just count the minutes until he stops outside of the next town.

  The lights glow in the dark about a half mile ahead of us. A beacon to those that want to feel safe. Just another place to pass through for someone like me.

  “That will be 50 bucks even.” Frowning I pull up the application on my phone. It says very clearly that my card will be billed for the trip. Their terms of service states they do not accept cash. Opening my mouth to argue I change my mind and close it with a snap.

  Alright. I can play this game. I hand him a five-dollar bill. This ride was disappointing anyhow.

  Getting out of the small car, and the stink of it, I pause beside of the back-passenger tire. Bending slightly at the knees I let the claw on my first finger grow longer and slide it against the outer edge of the tire. With a loud hiss of air, the tire starts to deflate.

  There’s his tip.

  Walking away with a smile on my face I ignore his angry shouts and threats to call the police. He won’t. The license on his dashboard is expired.

  Forty-One

  Iza

  Above me, the stars are a painting of brilliant colors on a canvas of night, lit up pinpricks of reds and whites that are mere peeks into the heavens. Reaching out to me, to my soul, in a way very few things do.

  The moon shines brightly above me, like a beacon calling me to come to it. Juras had two moons but this single one outshines them both.

  The night sky is a dream made real and I am humbled by the privilege of seeing it.

  For once I let the tears fall unhindered. Just this one time. Lying there in the park on the thick grass, I smile and dream, basking in the fact that I’m not imagining this. This is real and…my imagination completely failed at coming close to doing it justice. So,
I need to make sure I memorize it better this time.

  As the night deepens and morning dew settles, I remain on the ground, staring at the most beautiful thing I have seen in my life.

  But as with all good things, it comes to an end.

  Sleep is starting to remind me that I need it. Time to catch a few hours, if I can. Climbing to my feet, I look for a place up off the ground and spy a bench. That will work nicely.

  Using my backpack as a pillow, I curl up on the bench, stealing sneak peeks at the fading stars. As my heavy eyes close, a shooting star streaks through the single mooned, sky.

  Forty-Two

  Iza

  Morning finds me camped out on a bench in the towns small park, people watching. Joggers are already swarming the place. A surprising amount of them, for such a small town. Like a creep, I sit there and stare at them as they run by, stomach rumbling.

  Right across from me is a pond. Doesn’t look like a natural one but I can smell the fish in it. Breakfast is calling. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder I dodge another headphone-wearing jogger and scope out the pond.

  It’s very small, not big enough to swim in. Or bathe in. But the amount of fish in it, though, is ridiculous. They are a mix of strange colors, mostly oranges, and whites. Still, they smell like normal fish.

  The way they follow me, as I walk side to side, makes me almost feel guilty for wanting to eat one. Almost. With a quick grab, I get a handful of slimy, scaly goodness. Triumphant in my catch, I take a big bite out of its stomach, chewing with a smile.

  “Oh my god lady, you can’t eat the goldfish!”

  Scowling I turn to the intruder of my happy moment.

  A young human man is standing there staring at me indignantly, wearing some sort of pants that look like pantyhose. All his business is right there…just…there. The hooded sweatshirt he is wearing does nothing to hide it.