by Кирстен Уайт
“Yeah, yeah. Where’s Lend?” What if they had let him go? Not likely, once I thought about it. He’d broken into the Center. I couldn’t remember that happening—ever. But what if he was in more trouble than I thought, and they were hurting him? That idea bothered me. Then the rational part of me wondered if maybe he was dangerous and they’d taken him to a higher-risk placement area.
Jacques shrugged. “Raquel wanted him moved.”
“Why?”
“We are not equipped for long-term holding here. No beds, no bathrooms.”
“Oh.” Made sense. “Where is he?”
The werewolf shook his head. “Sorry. You are not cleared to know.” Today his normally cute
French accent was seriously bugging me.
“Not cleared?”
“No. Raquel told me not to tell you.”
My face melted into a pout. This was so not fair. I turned on my heel and stalked to Raquel’s office.
I had just put my palm up to enter when the door opened.
“Oh, good,” Raquel said.
“What’s the deal with—”
“I’ve got a job for you. You need to leave right now. A transport’s waiting.”
I frowned. “What is it?”
“Vampire activity in Istanbul. We’ve got a location, but you have to hurry.”
“I—Okay.” We ran to my room and I grabbed my bag with the ankle trackers. I always had Tasey on me, and now she was joined by my dagger. “I’m not really dressed for vamping.” I was wearing skinny jeans and a long-sleeved V-necked tee, my hair back in a ponytail.
“You look fine,” she said dismissively. “Your neck is showing—that’s all that matters.”
We were almost to Transport when I remembered. “Hey, why can’t I know where Lend is?”
Raquel rolled her eyes and heaved an is this really the time sigh. “You don’t need to know.” The
Transport room door opened in front of us to reveal the waiting faerie. I hadn’t seen her in years, and my stomach immediately clenched with guilt and nerves. All the human employees were required to memorize two faerie names, the faeries assigned at random so no faerie had too many people attached. This faerie was one of mine, and I couldn’t remember her name for the life of me.
Hers had been the first one they’d told me; I was ten. They also told me to never, ever use it unless I absolutely had to, then explained all the ways in which I could be killed if I screwed up. It was a little traumatic; can you blame me for forgetting? I knew I should ask again but was too embarrassed that I’d forgotten in the first place. Raquel would flip.
The faerie didn’t even look at me. “Do you have the location?” Raquel asked her. She nodded. Her skin was creamy white and her ruby hair contrasted sharply with it. Like all faeries, she was beautiful in a way no person could ever be. She held out her hand and blurred as her glamour went into place. The faeries were all required to tone down their looks during transports in case someone caught a glimpse of them. You don’t forget a faerie face. The faerie’s hair softened to auburn and her face took on more normal proportions, the eyes shrinking and moving closer together. She was still beautiful, but normal now. Unless you were me and could see right through it.
I walked forward and took her outstretched hand. It was warm, but not in the same way Reth’s was.
The usual outline of brilliant light formed on the blank wall in front of us and we walked together into the black. I put all my attention on the feeling of her hand in mine and just moved forward. It surprised me when she spoke—faeries don’t usually deign to speak to mortals. Unless they’re trying to kidnap you, of course.
“Oh, you are Reth’s,” she said in recognition, her voice discordant but oddly lovely, like glass raining onto concrete.
I missed a step, almost tripping. Her grasp never wavered. “No, I’m not.” As if the Faerie Paths weren’t creepy enough already. Where did that come from?
She just laughed—more glass, falling faster. Then I felt cool night air on my face and opened my eyes. We were in a filthy alleyway between two old stone buildings. I let go of her hand and wiped my palm on my pants. She smiled at me, her faerie eyes glowing underneath the glamour. There was a cruel cast to her smile that made me shiver. She pointed toward the alley opening. “You should find the creature in this market.”
“Thanks a lot,” I muttered, turning and walking out of the alleyway. I hoped they’d send a different faerie for the return trip. Heck, I hoped they’d send a jet. I was sick of traveling by faerie. They were getting more and more intrusive.
The market was one of those sprawling open-air types, totally packed. The air beckoned with alluring spices, none of which I’d get to taste. Still, Easton Heights wasn’t on tonight, so I was in no hurry. Lucky for me it seemed to be a big tourist spot and I didn’t stand out too much.
I wandered around, pretending to look at the stalls but really scanning people. I liked this kind of job much better than the cemetery runs. There’s no real reason for vamps to hang out in cemeteries.
They just do it because so many of them have bought into the whole pop culture concept of how they should act. Besides that, cemeteries are boring and lonely. Nights like this I could wander around and people-watch. People—normal people—fascinated me. Tourists and locals clashed in a wonderful mix of jeans and silk, baseball caps and black hair.
It was also nice to get out on my own. I used to always have one other person (usually a werewolf) go with me, but the last couple of years they’d sent me solo for the basic runs. Vamps weren’t a threat now that I knew what I was doing. If it was something more dangerous I’d always have backup.
A guy called out to me in broken English from a jewelry stall. He was Turkish, kinda cute in a stretched out, throes-of-puberty sort of way. I was about to stop and pretend like I really was a shopper when I caught a glimpse of something walking by. Something not human. Smiling my regrets at stall boy, I turned and hurried after the person. All it took was one good look to confirm—through the cover of the man’s thick, dark hair I could see the last stringy remains of actual hair clinging to his shriveled and spotted head.
It didn’t look like he was stalking anyone; he moved purposefully through the market. I almost had to jog to keep up until he entered a derelict building near the very end of the market. Waiting about thirty seconds, I went in after him. A small hallway led to a single door. I pulled out Tasey, walked forward, and kicked it open, striding into the room.
The vamp I was following turned and looked at me; so did the twenty other vampires in there.
“Oh, bleep,” I whispered.
THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME
O ne vamp I could handle. Heck, I could probably even handle five at a time—shriveled corpse muscles and all. But twenty vampires? I was not liking my odds. What was going on? Vamps were solitary by nature. This was weird. And very, very bad.
I gave my best embarrassed smile. They wouldn’t know I knew what they were. “Whoops. I’m looking for the theater. Wrong building.”
Maybe if I made it back through the door fast enough, and then—click. Another four vamps had come in behind me and locked the door. I reached to my belt and hit the panic button on my communicator. Then I pulled out Tasey.
Taking a deep breath, I put on my best stern face. “You’re all under arrest under statute three point seven of the International Paranormal Containment Agreement, Vampire Protocol. You are required to report to the nearest processing—”
“You’re IPCA?” one of the vamps asked. The others were shifting nervously in place.
“Yes. I’m going to have to ask you to line up for tagging.” I waited for them to start laughing.
“You aren’t going to kill us?” the speaker asked, giving me a suspicious look.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Seriously, did I look like some sort of psycho assassin?
Maybe it was the pink sneakers. Or the heart earrings?
The vampires tu
rned toward one another, holding a whispered conversation. I inched closer to the door, Tasey at my side, as I pushed the panic button over and over again. Lish would see it. She’d send help. She’d never failed me before, but if they didn’t answer my distress call soon, I would have to do something I really didn’t want to.
Freedom was a foot away when they turned back to me. The one who kept speaking, a tall vamp with a handsome curly-haired glamour, shook his head. “Sorry.” He bared his fangs in an apologetic grin. “We’re glad you aren’t what’s hunting us, but we’re no friends of IPCA. And we’re all very, very thirsty.”
“What, no flirting?” I asked, trying to buy time. “Aren’t you going to at least try to be sexy? Think of all those vampire fans out there—they’d be so disappointed.” I pulled out my silver knife. Probably should have paid more attention during my knife training. “Tell you what. Let me go and I promise not to tell anyone that you aren’t suave.”
“Sorry, kid.”
“Okay.” I held up the knife in one hand and Tasey in the other. “Guess I am here to kill you then.” If
I could get through enough of them—I just needed to get out of the room—I could outrun them.
Three jumped me and I flailed wildly. I hit two of them with jolts and they collapsed. The third tried to catch my arm, but I slashed at him with the knife and he drew back, howling in pain. I ran for the door but couldn’t get it open. I turned and put my back against it.
“Everyone at once,” the leader shouted, and then it was a mass of hands—nice, normal flesh over the decay underneath—all grabbing at me. I struggled, but even vamps are strong enough when they outnumber you twenty to one. It only took a few seconds for them to have me pinned against the wall; I managed to hold on to Tasey and the knife but couldn’t move to use them. The leader stood right in front of my face. I tried to look at his glamour, just his glamour, but the pure white eyes staring at me from sunken sockets were all I could focus on. He smiled. I wanted to cry.
My rescue would come too late.
“Aren’t you going to scream?” he whispered, leaning in and tracing my neck with his lips. His dead, dead lips. I felt his mouth open and closed my eyes. All the horror from my first childhood run-in with a vampire flooded back in. No one would save me. I was out of options. A single tear traced down my cheek.
“Lorethan!” I shouted. The vamp hesitated; clearly it wasn’t what he was expecting. “I need you!
NOW!”
The pause was enough to save my neck. White light exploded into the room and the vamps jumped back instinctively. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around my waist from behind and pulled me into the darkness.
“You called,” Reth murmured in my ear as he held me in the nothingness. “I knew you would.” I could hear the smile in his voice, the triumph. I had sworn I’d never use his real name again, never call on him. Instead I’d just negated all the commands to stay away from me. And my wordingwhy had I said I needed him? He could twist that any way he wanted. But the memory of the vampire’s lips on my neck made me shudder. It didn’t matter tonight.
“Just take me home, okay?”
He tightened his arms around my waist, his torso pressed against my back. I could feel his heart through my shirt, its beat strong but far too slow. “Home then.” He laughed his silver laugh.
That should have warned me.
I kept my eyes closed, trying to ignore his body against mine. Faeries couldn’t care less about sex and physicality, but they did care about manipulation, and Reth knew how much I craved contactany kind of contact. Growing up the way I had, there was never enough affection, never enough attention. More than Raquel, more than Lish, more than anyone, he knew how deeply lonely I was. I hated him for it.
I expected him to take my hand and walk; instead all I felt was a slight breeze, then it was bright and warm. I opened my eyes to a room. Not mine. The light was soft, emanating from an unidentifiable source. Elegant furniture was placed at random, and the walls appeared to be solid, pale rock.
The fabrics were all silks and velvets; deep reds and royal purples with gold accents. There was no door.
“I said home.”
He laughed again. “You didn’t say whose.” Furious and too tired to deal with any more faerie crap, I opened my mouth to tell him exactly where to take me and where he could go after that. I wasn’t sure a faerie could obey a command to go to hell, but I was going to find out. Before I could say a word he lifted his slender hand and stroked my throat.
“Shhh,” he whispered.
My voice was gone. Not scratchy-throat-rasping gone. Completely gone. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t even whisper. I wanted to find the genius who thought we could control faeries and kick him where it hurt. Twisting away from Reth’s arms, I rushed over to put one of the antique-looking couches between us. “Fix it,” I mouthed.
He smiled at me. His eyes were golden like ripe wheat and his hair shone nearly the same shade.
Everything about him was gold, except his laugh. That had always been silver. I couldn’t look at his face anymore without risking never wanting to look away, but I didn’t want to take my eyes off him and let down my guard. I was so dead.
“Evelyn.” My name in his mouth was like a caress. “Why are you fighting me? You want to be with me. And I want no one else forever.”
I had goose bumps. Reth had probably taken countless mortal girls into the Faerie Realms. He knew we didn’t last forever. Either he was manipulating me again, which was likely, or was up to something seriously frightening. “Why?” I mouthed. I knew he was telling the truth—he wanted me. And that made everything even harder; not many people in my life ever wanted me. My own parents had abandoned me when I was a toddler.
He sat gracefully. A small claw-footed table next to his chair held a crystal bottle and two goblets.
He poured a clear liquid into both of them, then held one up to me. “Drink?”
I shook my head. I wasn’t born yesterday. You never, ever accept food or drink from a faerie anywhere, especially on their turf. You’ll never get out again.
Nonplussed, he drank it himself. I racked my brain for what to do without my voice. Then, idiot that
I was, I realized I still had Tasey and the knife. I was clutching them both so hard my hands ached.
Glad my actions were hidden by the couch, I put Tasey away—not any good for more than a few seconds with faeries. With a hand free, I pushed the panic button again. I had no idea where we were, but really, really hoped it was somewhere Lish could send a retrieval.
“Aren’t you tired of being cold?” he asked, trying to draw me in. “Cold and alone. You don’t have to be. Our time grows short.” His eyes were pools of amber, deep and eternal. Pools you could drown in. “Dance with me again.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. He was right. I was tired. I had been alone my whole life. The foster homes, the Center—what was the difference? Why was I resisting him? I felt his hand on mine; he was so warm. The heat started to spread up my arm, slow and insistent. Why not give him my heart, my soul? No one else wanted them.
He could feel my surrender and pulled me close. “There is no one else for you, my love. Let me fill you.” There was no one else for me. I opened my eyes and looked into Reth’s golden ones—and the image of other eyes, eyes as clear as water, flooded into my memory. Why I thought of Lend right then I have no idea, but it was enough to pull me back. I lifted the silver knife and held it between us like a talisman.
Reth looked surprised, then angry. “What are you doing, child?” He hadn’t let go of my other hand, but I resisted the warmth. It was barely past my shoulder, now slowing. “Don’t you know what I’m trying to give to you?”
I shoved the flat of the blade against his chest and he let go of my hand, backing up a step. Iron is the best against faeries, but they aren’t fans of silver, either. “Enough,” I mouthed, pointing to my neck. Glaring, he flicked his hand and my throat tingled.
�
�Why are you fighting this?”
“Because you’re a lunatic! I don’t want this! I don’t belong to you! I never will!”
A half smile twisted his perfect face. “You’re wrong.”
“Well, I’ve got a silver knife that begs to differ. Now—”
“Take you home?”
I nodded.
His smile spread. “That wasn’t a command, and you’ve got to sleep sometime.” Before I could command him to take me home he disappeared, his silvery laugh lingering in the absence.
I was starting to miss the vampires.
FAERLY STUPID
I screamed for him to come back, then sat heavily on one of the couches. He was right. I was exhausted from not sleeping last night plus a very full day and rather stressful evening. And if I fell asleep, I couldn’t hang on to the knife. And if I couldn’t hang on to the knife…
It was a problem. I didn’t know what he was trying to do to me, and I didn’t want to find out.
Not surprisingly, there was no signal on my communicator. I didn’t even know if I was technically on the planet anymore. The Faerie Realms coexist with ours, but cross time and space and all sorts of other boring and weird physics things that I never cared about before now. I added Faerie Realms and knife fighting on my list of things to pay more attention to.
I could call for him using his real name again, and he’d have to come. But that worked out so well before. The phrasing I used still killed me. I need you? The way I figured it, he took that as the command and would now fill what he thought my need for him was. If I called him back and negated my command before he took my voice again, there was no telling how he would interpret it. If you give a faerie conflicting commands, they can’t fill them and therefore come up with something completely different (and always bad). I was so screwed.
Faeries are the slipperiest things in the world. IPCA (before it was IPCA and back when it was APCA and all sorts of individual country acronyms) worked for decades to find a faerie, any faerie, and learn his true name. Their plan involved using pretty young girls as kidnap bait. Dozens of pretty young girls, none of whom were ever seen again. Except one girl, who discovered a great secret.
