Faerie Lords Boxset

by Isabella August

  “He had a healthy, normal personality beforehand, correct?” Adrian asked.

  The vampire’s voice cut through the strange haze that had overtaken her. Jenna refocused on his burning red eyes. Where am I? What was I just doing?

  “Not… just healthy,” Jenna managed. “He was a genius.” Grief tried to tear at her heart, but Adrian’s power kept it somehow at bay. “He was my favorite person,” she whispered.

  “Guess what? Guess what?”

  Gabe shoved his way into the living room, his brown eyes lit up with excitement. He dropped his backpack to the floor with a heavy thud; it looked almost as heavy as he was.

  “Ugh, tone it down,” Jenna mumbled. “Today’s a sick day.” She tugged the quilt over her head, wiggling underneath it like a worm.

  “I know!” Gabe beamed at her. “And that sucks! But we’re gonna make you better.”

  He reached into his backpack. One by one, he started pulling out the biggest, thickest, most boring-looking books Jenna had ever seen in her life. She gave him a flat look.

  “I’m gonna be a doctor!” Gabe informed her, beaming. “I decided today. I’m gonna figure out what’s wrong with you and cure it.”

  A tiny, reluctant pang of hope wormed its way into her chest at his expression. Gabe was the smartest kid in class. All his teachers said he was going to change the world when he grew up. “You think you can?” Jenna asked in a small voice. “All the doctors so far haven’t done it yet.”

  “Well yeah,” Gabe said. He lowered his voice. “But they don’t know anything about your magic. I know that’s got something to do with it though, so I’m a step ahead of them, right?”

  “You don’t have any magic,” Jenna said in a whisper. She glanced toward the kitchen, where her mother had started cooking dinner. Gabe wasn’t supposed to know about her magic. No one was supposed to know. “How can you cure something magical if you don’t have magic?”

  “Don’t know!” Gabe said cheerfully. “I’ll figure something out.”

  “You told him about your magic?” Adrian sounded surprised.

  “I know,” Jenna said. “I shouldn’t have.” She blinked slowly. She should have been upset. It was too much effort. “It’s my fault. All of this is my fault.”

  The vampire leaned forward. “How is it your fault?” he asked quietly. “Tell me.”

  Jenna tilted her head at him. “I showed him Arcadia,” she said. “I showed him the Looking Glass.”

  “You can do magic, but I can’t see it?” Gabe scoffed. “Look, I’ll still be friends with you, you don’t have to keep lying to me.”

  Jenna tugged him forward through the museum’s hallway, into a large exhibit room filled with statues and tall carvings on pedestals. “Magic is real, and I can do it,” she told him, her voice sharp with irritation. “You can’t see most of it, because it happens on a different level than you can see. But there’s one spell I can do that you can see.”

  “Okay, fine,” Gabe said reluctantly. “Does it have to be done in a fancy museum?”

  Jenna turned on him as they reached the long, wide-open windows that looked in upon the exhibit. “I’m opening up the Hidden Path to faerie,” she told him. “There’s one here in the Metropolitan that leads to the Looking Glass. Dad says it’s because everyone’s basically just here to show off and feel like they’re pretty and important. It’s metaphorical.”

  Gabe eyed the giant line of windows in front of them. “Looks pretty literal to me,” he said.

  Jenna tugged him back. “Don’t stand so close,” she snapped. “Arcadia likes sucking up mortals and never spitting them back out again. If you sell your soul to some faerie for candy or something, Dad is gonna be super angry at me.”

  Gabe gave her a put-upon look. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Okay,” he said. “Fine. Make with the magic.”

  Jenna glanced around the atrium. There were a few other patrons in there with them, studying one of the statues. She shouldn’t have dared to open up a Path to Arcadia with any mortals nearby at all… but Gabe was still standing there, waiting with an expression that suggested he didn’t believe she could do it.

  She hardened her jaw and turned toward one of the windows, opening her Witchsight.

  The door was there. She could feel it rippling, stretching like a veil. It wanted to open. All it needed was a little push of magic…

  The window just in front of them yawned inward. Light bent and refracted, dancing away at strange angles. Just beyond that threshold, a reflection of the Met still showed… but it was unmistakably distorted, littered with bizarre art pieces that no longer existed, and maybe never did. A masked statue lifted too many arms toward the ceiling in bizarre supplication. A suit of armor rose more than ten feet tall, as though forged for a giant. Water trickled quietly down the walls of the museum, running in rivulets through the exhibits.

  Gabe’s eyes widened. He leaned in, reaching out to touch the shafts of light that fractured from the window—

  Jenna slammed the Hidden Path closed with a gasp. “Stop that!” she hissed. “I warned you! I warned you!”

  Jenna’s mind drifted back to the present. Slowly, she realized that Adrian had gone silent, though his eyes still burned red.

  “Gabe doesn’t have any magic of his own,” Jenna whispered. “But the Hidden Path wants people to walk into Arcadia. He kept going back there. It fascinated him, even if he couldn’t open it. I think… something on the other side must have noticed him back.”

  Adrian nodded slowly. “And then?” he asked. “What happened, Jenna?”

  Gabe was yelling. He never yelled. For a second, Jenna thought it was her fever, making her hallucinate. She blinked blearily, clawing at the covers of her bed.

  Her father was yelling back. Robert Wright, calm and soft-spoken and always composed, was screaming at the young man who might as well have been his adopted son.

  “—sold your soul!” her father exclaimed. “You will turn around and walk back out that door—”

  “Get out of my way!” Gabe’s voice was so furious. She hadn’t known he was capable of that awful anger.

  She wanted to get up, to beg them to stop… but her body was barely working. She couldn’t even open her eyes.

  Magic flared — strange magic, something she’d never felt before.

  The screaming went silent.

  One by one, the mirrors in the apartment began to shatter.

  “You’re not upset,” Adrian said. “You’re safe, here in my office. Nothing can hurt you here.”

  There were tears on her cheeks. Jenna blinked quickly, struggling against the hypnotism. I am upset, she thought. How could I not be upset? What sort of person would it make me if I wasn’t upset?

  But Adrian’s red eyes burned away that conscious thought. She went slack in the chair, closing her eyes.

  “…there’s no saving your friend, Jenna,” Adrian said softly. “You know that’s true. You’ve spent years trying to deny it, but all your research is just an attempt to feel better about the role you played in what he became.” His cold fingers touched her wrist, and she shuddered, opening her eyes again. “You’re going to move on and stop feeling guilty,” he said.

  Adrian smiled gently. “All of the positive things you once felt for Gabriel, you’ll now feel for me instead. I’ll be your favorite person, Jenna. Won’t that be better?”

  Jenna’s mind twisted and bucked beneath the command, panicked. But Adrian’s eyes burned brighter, and the panic subsided slowly.

  “When you wake up, you’ll forget everything we talked about,” Adrian told her, patting her hand. “But you’ll feel better, as though you’ve had a weight lifted off your shoulders. And before you leave, you’ll ask me if I’m hungry.” His eyes flared. “I’ll count down from ten. Nine. Eight. Seven…”

  Jenna woke up abruptly, slumped in the office chair.

  Adrian was watching her from the other chair, concerned. She sat up slowly, wiping at her face. I c
ried? she thought.

  Maybe she had. It didn’t feel bad, though. Somehow, she felt as though she’d cried out every ugly thing inside her at once. Her body felt light and clean.

  “Are you all right?” Adrian asked her.

  “I… am,” Jenna said slowly. “I feel great, actually. What did you do?”

  “I asked you to tell me everything,” he replied. “You had a lot of unresolved emotions attached to that story. It’s possible you’ve finally accepted certain things you’ve been denying.”

  Jenna frowned. That didn’t sound right. But Adrian had been studying the human mind for an awful long time. It would be silly to assume she knew more than he did, given that he had literal lifetimes more experience than she did.

  “…yeah,” she said finally. “I guess I did. Well, whatever you did… thanks.” She shot him a weary smile.

  “I have some initial thoughts on your work, given the extra context,” Adrian said. “You theorized that warlocks might have their conscience suppressed by the seed of faerie power that they accept. I have to be honest, I think suppressed might be an optimistic word. A witch might come through the process mentally intact… but a mortal with no power of their own would probably sustain significant mental damage from a sudden, direct application of Arcadia upon their soul.”

  Jenna knitted her brow. She found herself shaking her head. What am I doing? she thought. But an impulse arose from the bottom of her mind, clear and uncompromising. “I don’t care,” she said.

  Adrian raised his eyebrows.

  “Oh, uh,” Jenna said quickly. “I care about you, obviously.” A flush rose up into her cheeks. Why did I say that? What am I doing? “That came out wrong. I mean — I don’t care about the research. Not anymore. I think… I need to let this go, Adrian. It’s destroying my life.”

  The vampire searched her eyes carefully. “Are you sure?” he asked. “That seems like a sudden decision.”

  Jenna nodded more strongly. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m sure.” She smiled at the thought. “I’m going to move on.”

  Adrian glanced back toward the stack of printed paper on his desk. “I’ll keep the copy,” he told her reassuringly. “Just in case you change your mind. I’m not saying I think you’ll do that, but it’s a lot of work to just toss away in an afternoon.”

  A strange warmth flooded Jenna’s chest as he spoke. He’s been so careful to look out for me, she thought. Even though I’ve been afraid of him, snapping at him at every turn.

  And what had she done for him in return, really? Jenna studied his face, suddenly concerned. Was Adrian looking just a little bit more pale? How much had it taken out of him, holding her emotions in check while she dug through all those memories?

  “Adrian?” she asked.

  He glanced over at her curiously. “Yes?”

  Jenna shifted in her chair, uncomfortable. “How much did that take out of you? Are you… hungry?”

  Adrian’s expression turned rueful. “It’s a bit of an exertion,” he admitted. “But I’ll be fine.”

  Jenna pressed her lips together.

  No, she thought. That’s not okay.

  She reached out to grasp his hands again, turning her wrists over in his grip. “Look, I… I promised. Just take what you need, okay? I’ll go get a juice box and a cookie later, scout’s honor.”

  Adrian glanced down at her, hesitating. She could see the hunger in his eyes now, the way he stared at the pulse in her wrist. “All right,” he said reluctantly. “But I don’t want this to become a regular occurrence, Jenna.”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic,” she told him. “Shut up and drink.”

  Slowly, Adrian brought her wrist up to his lips. Jenna looked away quickly, too unnerved to watch. There was a faint prick of something at her skin. Then…

  She wavered in place, blinking. A wave of sick euphoria crashed against her brain, like a sudden shot of drugs.

  Jenna sank down into the chair, closing her eyes. Oh. Wow. Blood rushed to her wrist, pounding strangely in her veins. Her body tingled pleasantly. This is not awful, she admitted to herself hazily.

  Time distended strangely. The next thing she knew, she was blinking awake, hazy. Adrian had tucked a blanket around her, and slipped a tiny bandaid onto her wrist.

  Jenna closed her eyes.

  This feels so familiar, she thought.

  It occurred to her a moment later.

  I miss being taken care of. That’s what this is.

  Her body felt cold, but the thought left her comforted.

  “Hey,” Adrian said softly, stepping around his desk to check on her. “You passed out. I must have gotten carried away — I’m so sorry.”

  Jenna shook her head slightly. “It’s okay,” she mumbled. “I’m good.” She blinked her eyes open again.

  I’m not afraid of him anymore, she realized, dazed. My brain’s gotten over it somehow.

  Adrian smiled ruefully. “I’d help you out of the office, but… you know.”

  Jenna grinned. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. I need a thesis advisor, not a charcoal briquette.” He winced. “What?” she asked. “Too lurid?”

  “It definitely makes for a distressing image,” Adrian admitted. He helped her up out of the chair. Jenna wavered slightly, but she managed to gain her feet after a few seconds. “Don’t forget to find a juice box,” he joked.

  Jenna hauled her bag onto her shoulder. “Does coffee count?” she asked.

  Chapter 3

  Three weeks after she had dropped her fateful research, Jenna reflected that she had never felt better.

  “Lord, you look like death warmed over,” Marie said.

  Jenna dragged herself behind the counter at the Java Lounge. “That’s funny,” she said. “I’m in a great mood.” To be fair, she wasn’t feeling physically at her best. Her magic had flared up again just the day before, and the resulting fever had yet to calm down. But what was new about that? It wasn’t the first time she’d been under the weather, and it wouldn’t be the last.

  Sickness aside, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so… well, happy. A lot of awful things had happened, none of which she could undo. Life was still hard, work still needed doing. But for some reason, everything just felt more bearable.

  For some reason, Jenna thought to herself, with a roll of her eyes. You know why.

  Without her extracurricular research to occupy her, she’d managed just a bit more time — all of which, she had to admit, she’d spent on Adrian. For the first time in what felt like forever, Jenna felt like she had a partner-in-crime again — someone with whom she could spin wild theories, do projects, even just complain about daily life, when it sometimes got overwhelming. And damn, did the man have stories to tell.

  Letting down her guard with Adrian had been the best decision Jenna had ever made. Without that weird standoffishness between them, she was quickly coming to realize what a funny, intelligent human being he was.

  Well, vampire, she corrected herself distantly. Not that it really matters.

  “Jenna?” Marie picked up her wrist, blinking at the bandaid there. “Did you have this last week, too? What happened?”

  Jenna snatched her wrist back quickly. “It’s nothing,” she said. “Donated some blood.”

  Marie raised her eyebrows. In your condition? her eyes suggested. “They stuck the needle in your wrist?” she asked instead.

  “Yep,” Jenna breathed. “I’ve got crappy arm veins.” She shoved back to her feet, ignoring the lightheaded feeling that came over her. “I’ll restock the muffins. They’re looking kind of pathetic.”

  She didn’t have to look behind her as she headed to the stockroom to know that Marie’s eyes were firmly fixed on her back.

  The evening had been a bit less busy than usual, but Jenna’s body felt like she’d run a marathon. She did her best not to show the exhaustion on her face, but she knew her hands were starting to shake.

  During one of the lulls, she se
ttled into the chair behind the counter, letting out a breath. Her head was spinning uncomfortably, so she pressed her forehead into her arms, on top of the counter.

  Just gonna put my head down for a second. Just… for a second.

  Sounds blurred together. Murmured voices. The ding of the bell on the door. Marie chirping at one of the customers…

  A cool hand pressed against the back of her head.

  “…you’ve got a fever, Jen.”

  Jenna blinked into her arms, bleary. Man, I’m in a weird headspace today, she thought distantly. That sounded like Gabe. “Yeah,” she mumbled. “I noticed.”

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he said softly. “You don’t get this bad very often.”

  Jenna blinked again, forcing her brain into gear. Slowly, she lifted her face from her arms… and froze.

  The man that stood on the other side of the counter was about a head taller than she was. His short, messy hair should have been a chestnut color, but it had gained a tinge of metallic silver that couldn’t possibly be mistaken for anything natural. His eyes should have been a tawny golden-brown, warm and kind; instead, they were an empty, glassy-looking green, like a mirror without a back.

  He was wearing a casual button-down over a dark, faded shirt that she deeply suspected might be his old Yankees t-shirt. The buttons, Jenna noticed dimly, were on the wrong side. This minor detail did nothing to spoil the overall effect, which was that of a handsome man with a wry, magnetic appeal.

  “Gabe,” Jenna whispered. “Oh my god.”

  The sound of his name made him smile. There was nothing behind that smile — just as there was nothing behind his glass-like eyes. “Jen,” he said. “Not that you don’t make a gorgeous zombie, but… you ought to be in bed.”

  He sounded like Gabe. He… kind of looked like Gabe. But if there was anything left of the real him underneath that power, it was so small that it didn’t even matter anymore.

  Jenna’s heart lurched in her chest. A hundred little grief-stricken memories battered at her conscious mind. Fantastic playground adventures, pretending to be superheroes. Late-night study sessions, grumbling over math homework. A younger Gabe, holding her hand and reading her stories when she was too sick to get out of bed, exaggerating the dialogue in funny voices. Some traitorous part of her wanted to throw herself into his arms and pretend that he was more than just a ghost of the man she’d once known.