by Zoe Parker
Seriously?
“Why are you crying, he’s your Pinnacle. Which means you’ll Awaken and get some cushy job with the Aristos.” I whisper to her.
“He’s a Fairy,” she sobs out.
Turning back to the boy I kind of shake my head. Why does that matter? He’s wingless and for the most part looks human; the only difference is his slit pupils and pointed ears. Why be ashamed of that? He’s stronger than her.
“So? He’s strong, which means you’ll have a solid Triad. Isn’t that better than a human boy with weak magic?”
‘She’s racist,’ Ciar interjects. I cut him a dirty look and turn back to Sierra, but it doesn’t shut him up like I hoped. ‘Nothing you say will convince her otherwise, why bother trying to convince her?’
Because the Fairy deserves for someone to speak up for him.
“I get it, I really do—you’re getting paired with a Fae and it means he isn’t your dream guy, but it’s something you’re not given a choice about and Faerie doesn’t make mistakes.” Silently I add that she also doesn’t like you questioning her choices either.
Gods, I really am a hypocrite.
“But… but look at him,” she continues, in a whiney, snot choked voice.
Sighing, I look at them and it isn’t her I feel sorry for, it’s him because he’s going to be stuck with her the rest of his life. For the first time I pay attention to the look on his face, he looks completely shocked and no happier than she does.
It doesn’t stop him from drawing up his courage and stopping at her desk.
“I’m Bean.” The chit has the audacity to wail loudly when he says his name.
Doesn’t she know that all Fairies name their children for a fruit or vegetable until they come into their power fully?
Then he surprises all of us, “I’m not any happier about this than you are. I was hoping it was her,” he says, pointing at me.
Ciar growls and Bean takes a step back. Ha.
“Why wouldn’t you be happy with me? Look at me, I’m gorgeous and my family is wealthy and—”
He interrupts, “You’re pretentious and close minded and only worried about yourself,” he finishes, two spots of color high in his cheeks.
Bean has a spine, hooray.
“Sierra, is there an issue here?” the teacher asks, coming to stand beside of Bean.
“Bean is her Pinnacle,” I supply the answer a little satisfied that she can’t deny it.
“Well, this is… fabulous. It means you’ll Awaken, Sierra!”
Fabulous isn’t the word the very human teacher wants to use. I take in the frazzled look about her and the sideways looks she’s giving poor Bean. I don’t know this one’s name. I search around for a name plate but find none.
‘Mrs. Rubbish.’
You’re kidding me? Rubbish? Faerie save them from their parents picking names.
“I don’t want to Awaken now,” Sierra wails again.
“Well, Sierra, there isn’t a choice involved. I imagine it’ll happen soon since you met your Pinnacle first.” Although Mrs. Rubbish, inner giggle, is saying all the nice words and right things to try and calm the situation—her body language is saying something drastically different.
Rubbish is angry about it, which is odd. Why is a teacher angry about Sierra’s potential Awakening?
‘Look more closely,’ Ciar encourages.
Flash of heat and her Aura snaps into view, she’s a mid-level Mage, nothing spectacular. Now I can see the blacks swirling in and out of her Aura like a school of fish. Definitely angry.
That’s when I see, or don’t see, something—there are no threads leading away from her, connecting her to someone else. Rubbish didn’t Awaken. Which explains the greens and puke yellows now spinning about in her Aura.
Jealousy.
That’s not very teacher-y of her but then again now I see why she’s a teacher. Fae are all about the untrue adage that those who can’t do, teach. Out of curiosity I’m going to check the rest of them today too. I didn’t realize that Auras told this type of truth. If not for Ciar and my connection I still wouldn’t.
I choose to disregard the blue thread that branches out of me. I know what it means, and I’ll deal with it when whomever is on the other end makes themselves known. It’s not like it’s pulsing like Sierra’s—which means they’re close, so whomever is on the end of it isn’t here yet.
If what Ciar says is true, and I’ll admit—if only to myself, that I’m pretty sure it’s true—then they’re coming regardless.
‘How much time do I have?’
‘Enough, although you act more like it’s a prison sentence than the gift it is.’ His answer is fast and decisive, he’s probably eavesdropping again. ‘I can’t read every single thought, just the ones you’re projecting loudly or not protecting.’
That’s mighty honest of him to share with me, but I don’t really see the point in closing all the gaps now. It will take a lot of effort to lock him out completely and he’ll still feel my emotions through the bond, just like I can feel his now.
Amusement is the strongest one that I can feel coming from him. Well, isn’t it peachy that I can amuse his majesty?
Turning my attention back to the drama winding down in front of me I watch Bean’s face as he stares at Sierra. His emotions are written on his face plain as day. He’s not happy about his Center, but I can see the fascination and disgust warring on his face and I can also see the moment the disgust wins.
Which is the most interesting part of this entire encounter.
I mostly believed that the connection between a Triad and their Center is more force than anything else, until now. Yes, there is some ‘encouragement’ from the magic but if Bean can overcome it then someone like Ciar can decimate it.
I’m an idiot.
‘The moment I realized what you are to me, monster girl—you weren’t Awakened, there was no magical pull.’ His attention intent upon me draws my gaze to his. ‘Magic has nothing to do with it.’
Since this began I assumed that he meant the Pinnacle thing, but what he’s saying now has nothing to do with being a Pinnacle and everything to do with being—
‘—a man.’ He finishes the thought for me. I make a face at him and turn away.
Heat crawls up my face and into other places, which make me smile.
Carefully, almost slyly, I spend the next several moments building up my shields, giving myself the freedom to think about how he wants me for me not because of some magical wahoo. The sense of relief is different and new, and I let it settle inside of me.
Looking at him through my lashes I study his face with my self-imposed blinders off. The green of his eyes is luminescent, and I’ve always thought the color was intriguing. Now with it on a Fae face it’s incredible.
No, not a Fae face, his face.
‘What’s in that head of yours, monster girl? Something important for you to block me out so hard.’ His eyes narrow but that ever-present smirk hovers around his mouth.
Smiling benignly, I turn back to the soap opera, a little disappointed that it’s mostly over and that Sierra is now looking at Bean in a purely calculating way. Poor Bean, he’s in for a ride with this one, not the good kind either, but I’m sure that’ll happen too. She doesn’t strike me as the demure type.
Rubbish points out the door for Bean to leave and harrumphs at the rest of us to settle down. Resting my elbow on the desk I lean my face on the meaty part of my hand and take the time to look at the people around me. Readily I admit that I didn’t really care enough to pay attention before and I don’t necessarily care about them, but I should at least know who they are or what.
Most of the class are humans, not too surprising. Humans breed easier and more quickly than Fae. However, there are Fae around us. Mostly Elves and Fairies and even a few wearing the purple and gold of Aristocratic blood of some other High Fae bloodline.
Some are even looking back at me with the same measuring gaze.
Tho
se ones look on with indulgence and a few have age to them. Fae don’t age like humans, but there’s something in their eyes that shows it. It reminds me of how some wines get darker with age.
Why are ones that old in this place?
Looking over at Ciar I ask him, ‘Did you know you would be part of a Triad one day?’
Without hesitation, ‘I suspected but I didn’t know for sure. I already knew that I would not have a Triad since there would be no Awakening for me.’
‘I wonder how many of these will be part of a Triad or become an Awakened?”
‘Possibly none of them. Some shouldn’t be here anymore than myself.’
Chucking I say, ‘They’re as old as you, eh?’
‘No, but too old for this place.’ That’s interesting to know. What he says next even more so. ‘They keep coming here in hopes that either one of them will Awaken or become part of a Triad. Being a High Fae doesn’t make you automatically safe. There are several families, Fae and human alike, who will cast aside or sacrifice what they consider mundane children and make new ones.’
Wow, that’s harsh and something I kind of understand, except mine is an opposite situation. My mother tried to kill me to keep me from Awakening, something I don’t understand at all. This power, that is growing—the Aura peeking thing is proof—doesn’t seem so great to me.
And my gut tells me it will get worse before it gets better.
‘But you’ll not be alone when it does.’ The sincerity in his words make me want to hug him and smack him at the same time.
He said when, not if.
Opening the pack of gum in my pocket to distract myself I go to pop a piece in my mouth only to be shoved backwards when a force hits my hand hard enough to almost break it. Only one person can catch me off guard so completely.
“Ciar?” I question the man who’s standing over me holding my hand in an iron grasp. The burning green of his eyes are focused so intently on the piece of gum clasped between my fingers that, for a moment, I worry my hand is going to catch on fire.
With a deep growl that I feel as clearly as I hear, he snatches the gum and shoves it in his mouth. Blood dribbles out of his mouth, trailing down his chin to disappear down his neck.
What the fudge?
“Ciar?” I demand this time.
Casting his eyes around the room he spits on the ground and I watch as the lump of bloody gum melts through the floor.
“Faebane… which would kill you,” he whispers, pulling me to my feet. The earthy smell of his magic is strong in the air and I feel it break over my skin. Why is he glamouring us? Because that’s exactly what he’s doing.
He says nothing as he practically drags me out of the room, heading outside instead of to our dorm. Digging my heels in, I fight his pull until he stops in the courtyard outside.
“What the heck are you doing, Ciar?”
“Someone had access to your things in order to place such a potent poison in the gum.”
“I bought it at the school store.”
“Are you absolutely sure?” He looks me over and his hands cup my face. His breathing is rather ragged, and his color is bad.
“Why did you ingest it, Ciar? Faebane kills Fae, you idiot.” I push his hands away and start checking him.
“I’ll be fine, I’m a different kind of Fae, monster girl.” He smirks but it’s a little shakier than normal. “It still has a little kick, but it won’t kill me.”
“What kind of kick?”
“It’s the equivalent of you being drunk.”
Frowning at him, I refuse to go anywhere until his breathing calms and the color returns to his face. Taking a deep breath, he exhales and rests his forehead against my own.
It’s a reminder to me how close this creature and I really am, because when I was a child this is something I did when he returned all bloody from his hunts. Not all Fae are so easy to kill, not even by the Lord of the Hunt.
“Come on, I need to brush my teeth twenty times to rid myself of the foul taste of this shit.” Smiling at me in reassurance, you know like he wasn’t the one that ate Fae killing poison or anything, he tugs on my hand and reluctantly I follow.
It really does make his breath horrid.
By Fairy hands their knell is rung:
By forms unseen their dirge is sung.
~William Collins
Since Zag found out about the whole poison thing he’s been a regular mother hen. Apologizing a hundred times for something that wasn’t his fault. The silly lizard. He thinks that somehow, he was sleeping mind you, he should’ve been able to smell the poison before Ciar.
“Zaggggg, enough! Nothing you could’ve done.” I chastise, flicking his tail to get him to move off my chest. Grumbling, he moves but only a few inches to lay beside of me on the bed.
I look at the clock and groan, it’s three am and because he’s checking on me every ten seconds I haven’t gotten any sleep. Of course, there’s a good chance I wasn’t going to sleep well anyhow.
Who’s trying to kill me now?
“Monster girl?” I raise my head up to look at Ciar standing a few feet from me.
“What?”
“Follow me,” he says ducking out the door.
Flinging the covers and a complaining Dragon off me I run after him uncaring of my bare feet and pajamas. My important parts are covered so it doesn’t matter.
Ciar moves like a demon, flitting in and out of shadows like he has no substance. The few times I get close enough to reach out and grab him, he slips right through my fingers like water.
Laughter is left in his trail. Smiling I pick up my pace. We’ve played this game before and occasionally I actually almost win. Except this time I’m not chasing a wolfy-dog I’m chasing a half-naked man who wants me in the ways of a man and who I… who I want too.
Well, fudge.
Rounding the corner, dirt flinging in the air, I skid to a stop, he’s standing still in front of me, his eyes lighting up the darkness in a faint moonbeam. Extending his arm, he beckons me with a pale hand and almost like he’s pulling me with strings I go to him. But it is not against my will, I go because I want to.
The air is a warm caress but the feel of his skin when I put my hand in his is an inferno that spreads up my arm, across my shoulders and all the way to my toes. He pulls me against him until we are firmly touching—with me fitting against him like I was made to go there.
“You know we’ve never danced together? How else shall we practice for our class project?” Placing my hand on his shoulder and his other hand on my waist he brings our clasped hands into position and then I feel the magic seeping out of him as he begins to hum.
And since I’ve heard the song so often I begin to hum with him.
Small Moss Fairies appear out of the tall grass and flow around us in a swirl of blues and reds, their lights bright and their giggles loud. The magic of this dance calls them too. Smiling, I look up into his eyes and stop fighting.
And just dance.
Effortlessly he leads me in a dance that only Fae can do. Our humming takes on a life of its own, the notes appear on the fog wrapping around us in its magical embrace.
This is true Fae dancing and the beauty of it leaves me breathless.
Laughing with pure joy I follow his steps that are so fast it feels like we’re flying. Faster and faster we go, his eyes holding me prisoner, his smile making me feel more aware of his closeness.
When his arms tighten, pulling me closer to him, I allow it. Ciar is a beautiful man who smells like home and feels like the strongest thing in the world and right now, he’s looking at me like he wants to eat me up.
I love it.
Resting his forehead against mine for a brief second, he lets his lips touch mine and then he’s twirling me away, laughing. Spinning I try to catch my breath and manage to fall right into the thick grass.
The magical lights around us fade and the Fairies, sensing that the dance is over, go back to their hidey holes. All that’
s left is Ciar standing above me his, hand out waiting for me to take it.
After holding his gaze for what feels like an eternity I slide my hand into his and smile as he pulls me to my feet. The tension between us is thick, giving more heat to the warm air around us. It’s a good kind of tension, it’s just one that I’m not quite ready to explore yet.
Once I do I know its forever.
“Well, it’s fair to say I think we’ll get a passing grade, monster girl.” The tension eases at his jest.
“Gods I hope so. Either way I have a feeling that at the end of it we won’t be the only ones sweating.” The mojo we were putting off was at its base nature sexual.
To me it’s so much more.
He smiles and links my arm through his as we head back to our room. Ciar talks about nonsensical things like laundry—which I forgot about again—and what would I like to have a TV and then if I want to go to lunch.
The man is always about feeding me.
Garden Fairies come at dawn,
Bless the flowers then they’re gone.
~Author Unknown
Most normal people have machines to do their laundry or Brownies to do it for them. The Menagerie doesn’t have either for folks like me, so we’re stuck going to the laundromat. Which is not a friendly welcoming place. It’s in the shadier side of the town.
I have neither.
Instead I have a fat Corpse Worm, happily munching on a rodent of some kind, once again dressed up in the trench coat and in a wheelchair. A Dragon who is being super protective and watching everyone like a hawk, and then there’s Ciar, who surprised me by coming at all. He’s even carrying the laundry basket full of clothes.
Strangely, including his clothes.
I know that when he does choose to wear underwear he’s a boxer kind of man. I’m not sure if I could’ve remained straight faced if he wore those little girly underwear. Then again, picturing him in them is at war with the humor.
