by Zoe Parker
I’m not alone.
Ciar sits beside of me and pats my leg. “Strange stuff to happen to a girl who can’t shoot fireballs, eh?” Instead of swatting at him like I normally do, I kiss him. A kiss that shows him exactly how I feel.
Breaking apart is necessary, I’m tempted to go further but know we can’t right now, his eyes do that eerie luminescent thing and I do swat at him then.
“I gotta call Calsis.” Ciar hands me his phone because gods know where mine is. I always forget I have the darn thing.
Not all spells require a lot of magic, some are simple and technically already exist so all you do is tap into them. Like right now. “Exist.” I whisper and the phone auto dials Calsis.
“Who the hell is this?” a scratchy old man demands from the other end of the line. I press speakerphone and let Ciar do the talking. Calsis gets mad at me rather quickly because I tell him he’s a cheap old fart.
“Calsis, your services are needed.” Ciar states rattling off the address.
“Yes, dark lord.” The line disconnects.
“He hustles for you. If I were asking he’d still come but like next week.”
“He loves you, but he doesn’t want you to know that because then he feels obligated to get you gifts. It’s part of their culture, them pretending to dislike each other so they don’t have to buy each other things.”
“And we call humans strange.”
He chuckles and climbs to his feet. I take his outstretched hand and look around us. Well, there’s work to be done. “Let’s get to ripping down ugly wallpaper.”
Smacking me on the ass, Ciar runs by me up the stairs. Long legged butt head, knowing I can’t catch him with that big of a head start.
An hour later I do catch him unaware while he’s standing on a ladder, a light smack that just makes him throw pieces of old wallpaper at me. Then when he relaxes his guard once again, I smack him hard enough that he falls off the ladder. I feel bad for it, mostly—sort of. Because he heals fast so probably not as bad as I should feel.
Smiling at my one-upmanship I keep ripping at wallpaper. I feel his intent before the burning smack of his hand on my bottom, but not quick enough to stop it. Screeching as his hand connects solidly with my butt with a loud smack, I turn around and jump off the ladder onto him taking him down to the floor laughing.
“I thought the two of you were brother and sister.” Ciar is on his feet over me, growling at Lucinda’s shocked and kind of snide comment.
We were so engrossed in each other even his senses were dull. Something that might present a problem one day in the future, but right this it minute makes me feel darn special that I can distract him that way.
Ciar’s annoyance fills the bond between us. He isn’t seeing the situation in the same amused way.
“Huh, I thought I explained we weren’t?” Didn’t I?
“Are you sure you’re not?” Lucinda steps further into the room, a look of doubt on her face. In the Fae world it’s not uncommon for cousins and rarely—but it has happened—siblings to couple or marry.
That’s gross, but it happens, and I think the stories are a bit exaggerated in among the humans. They have a lot of stories about Fae, most of which existed before the worlds collided.
Ninety percent of it is wrong but most Fae continue to let them believe the nonsense. I’m pretty sure it’s a law somewhere.
“Yeah, pretty sure but since we both hatched from eggs it’s hard telling.” The look of horror on her face makes me laugh so hard I double over.
She stomps her foot. “Totally not funny, Keri.”
“What brings you around here?” I ask, pushing at Ciar so I can get up. Ciar moves to let me up but doesn’t go far. The speculative look he’s giving Lucinda bothers me a little.
‘Ciar, I know you don’t like humans but cut her some slack. She tried to help.’ She got knocked out instead, but at least she made the effort.
He makes a noise low in his throat and then goes back to ripping wallpaper, but not before giving her a hard look. Other voices echo in the house, the Fairies are here.
“Who is that?” she asks looking over her shoulder towards the stairs. We’re still on the second level of the house because we messed about mostly. The Fairies and Brownies will be moving much more quickly, but from the sounds of laughter they’re messing about a bit too.
“My friends.” I can’t help but smile as I say it.
“But I thought I was your only friend?” That wipes the smile off my face.
She looks hurt and anger keeps peeking out through it. What happened to that shy sweet girl I met a few weeks ago? Catching me staring at her she smiles, bright and happy. I’m starting to think that there’s more to Lucinda than meets the eyes and not in a good way.
“I just don’t want to lose you. You’re my only friend, you know?” Oh, it’s an insecurity thing, I can understand that.
“Don’t be silly, just because I have other friends doesn’t mean you are worth any less to me, dummy.” Which makes me think of something else. “You weren’t hurt, earlier were you?”
“A little bump on my head is all, which is no big deal since I saved your life.” Wait, what? “Just kidding, I’m glad you’re okay and I’m sorry that I wasn’t more help. I panicked.” Her face crumples into guilt.
Aw, there’s the Lucinda I don’t want to strangle.
“What’s the adventure today? Dinner or a movie or both?”
“Too much work to do, which you’re welcome to help with if you want.”
“Manual labor isn’t really my thing.” Yeah, I’m starting to understand this about her.
“Maybe later in the week?” I ask going back to the wallpaper.
“Don’t forget the Mixer is this week,” she reminds me, coming to stand beside me and stare at the wall with a look of disgust. Yeah, I agree with her on that the wallpaper is a garish orange-red with gold symbols and green leaves all over it.
Speaking of red, “Did you ask the red-head?” Her face sobers, and she drops her eyes to the floor.
“He said not this time.” Aw she looks so sad about it, unfortunately I’m not that surprised he said no. I’m glad she got up the courage to ask, though.
“He give you any reasons?” I ask, and the cold anger on her face surprises me, but it’s only there a moment and the sadness quickly replaces it.
“I guess his parents set him up with some visiting Aristocrat.” Her smile returns. “He did say that we can always go out another time.”
“See?” Oh, well maybe he really is interested. “He’s probably got super controlling parents. Look at yours for example.” I smile at her. “You’re a beautiful person if he doesn’t see it someone else will.”
“Thanks, Keri.” She laughs and starts helping me rip wallpaper off the wall. Little tiny pieces but it’s progress for her. A little work doesn’t hurt anyone, especially someone who’s idea of work is painting their nails.
The afternoon goes by pretty quickly and before dinner Lucinda hugs me goodbye and heads home for the night. Gertie and Bis introduce me to the new Fairies and we all decide to have a cookout.
Zag has been mostly absent, because of the work I’m sure, he’s such a diva. And poor Fluffy is still in his cocoon, sleeping and changing.
A loud knock at the door heralds Calsis, little but loud. He makes those hrumping noises at me as he follows me through the house and to the storage room to sort the stuff I’m selling.
“Some of this is old and valuable, girl. Are you sure you want to sell it?” he asks me, after the cataloging of the storage room.
“Yes, every bit of it.”
“What price are you looking to get?”
“The most you can get out of them.” For a moment his face remains in that perpetual frown he wears but amazingly a small smile lifts it away, but only for a few seconds.
Long enough for me to see that one of his front teeth are made of gold.
Basically him getting the highest price is a ch
allenge to him and Leprechauns love a good monetary challenge.
“Only the paper money?”
“No, I’ll take gems and other rare goods in trade… just ones I can use to barter.” He nods and writes this down on his notepad.
“My normal fee is ten percent.”
“Take fifteen if you can get rid of it quickly.” Another small smile flashes. This stuff will be sold in a day, ha. He holds his hand out and I shake it sealing our deal.
Calsis, gods bless his grouchy soul, is shrewd, greedy and hard as heck to get a bargain out of, but he’s honest to a fault.
Back at the front door he tips his hat to me and bows— yes bows! —to Ciar before he leaves, notes in hand, with all the stuff I want to get rid of already loaded into Troll baskets. Which are the large, literal baskets, that Trolls can lift onto their back to transport goods from one place to another.
Cars are left over from before the Collision, but they’re special cars that run on magical water. I guess they had these bigger ones that they used to haul stuff. Those were outlawed because they put off too much pollution.
Trolls are used for the heavy lifting and transportation now. With them are Fae who can make portals to shorten distances. It works out well and nothing gets broken.
Standing in the doorway I catch myself staring at the place where the Elf died. I’m fully aware that it was either him or me and that it isn’t murder when you’re defending yourself, but it feels wrong and I feel awful.
“Sometimes I worry for you, Keri.” As he speaks, his arms encircle my waist from behind. Resting his chin on my shoulder he looks at the spot I can’t move my eyes from.
“Was it hard for you the first time you killed someone?”
“No,” Well he’s honest at least, “but I’m a killer, you’re not.” He sighs. “Is it because you think his family misses him? Or maybe that he left a kid without a father?”
Nodding, I let myself rest against him and tear my eyes away from the floor. “Keri, his name was Jafe, he was tossed from his clan for raping and murdering several women. When he realized the Hunt was summoned he murdered his wife for her money and then fled to wherever he’d been hiding. Someone was using magic to protect him from the Hunt. Someone strong.”
“How did you find these things out?”
“I tasted his blood.”
“Ew.”
“Are you really grossed out because I licked some blood?”
Laughing I say, “No, the ew factor is because the blood was cold. Isn’t that gross?” Tickling me he spins me around to kiss me breathless and then drags me outside to sit with the Brownies, who forbid me from doing more than pouring myself a bit of Fairy Wine.
The laughter and camaraderie are a nice change from the way things always were in this house. It also reminds me a bit of home and I look at Ciar beside me and he nods, knowing exactly what I’m thinking.
“They’ll come visit soon, the time isn’t right yet.”
“You know… this ‘happy’ would totally piss my mother off. I like it.”
Looking towards the lit-up house I see something I can’t recall ever seeing while I lived here, a home.
Bis walks over to me and, with cheeks as red as a tomato, asks me to dance.
Who am I to say no to a dance from such a handsome Fairy? Ciar rolls his eyes at me and then joins us on the floor with Gertie as his dancing companion. Well, aren’t her cheeks as rosy as Bis’s?
Laughing, I spin around with Bis and start to sing and when the many voices join me and the sky lights up with the scales of a Dragon flying over us weaving his own magic, things feel a lot better.
Yes, I had to kill a man—and that will haunt me forever, but he was going to take this away from me and I can’t have that. So right there, I accept the consequences of my actions. I also accept that he won’t be the last one and that I’ll have to kill again.
Letting the regret fade, if only for tonight, I smile again at my shy dance partner and let my voice fill the night. When a deeper more achingly beautiful voice joins mine, I look across the sea of faces to meet green eyes that are only for me.
Oh, yes. For this… I’ll do anything that I need to do.
I’ll seek a four-leaved shamrock in all they Fairy dells,
and if I find the charmed leaves, oh, how I’ll weave my spells! ~Samuel Lover
Somehow Ciar arranged for us to only have one class, which I’m not complaining about since it means I can sleep in for this last week of the useless mess of the Menagerie. I asked him why we can still come at all, since they know I Awakened, but I guess that since my Triad isn’t formed I’m not considered fully Awakened.
Gertie, the wonderful person she is, has food ready for us when we make our way downstairs. Ciar is quiet and distracted, but I’m pretty sure he had a Hunt in the middle of the night. I vaguely remember him kissing me goodbye and then hours later, right before dawn, crawling back into bed his hair still damp from a shower.
Messy hunt, I gather.
“You okay?” I finally break down and ask, after thinking about asking it a hundred times. He lifts his lips in a semblance of a smile and pats my hand, then his eyes take on that faraway look he gets when he’s thinking hard about something.
I want to know what’s putting that look in them and I bite my tongue to keep from asking. I need to respect the fact that he’ll tell me when he’s good and ready.
Ciar stands and kisses me quick and hard on the mouth. “We need to go.” Cramming the last bit of my sandwich in my mouth I put my shoes on and follow him out the door.
At the sidewalk he turns and touches a barrier that I can sense but can’t see. His magic makes goosebumps rise on my skin and then he grabs my hand and starts pulling me along with him.
“Didn’t realize you like music class so much.” He stops walking and takes a deep breath.
“It bothers me that while I was gone on a fucking Hunt you were attacked and there’s nothing I can do about it.” That’s not what I’m expecting him to say.
“Ciar,” I take his hand in mine and stand close enough I can kiss him if I want, but far enough away I can say what I need to say first. “You’re always going to have to go away for Hunts and this is something I know and accept. Just as you should, no one can be with me every minute of every day.”
I wrinkle my nose at him. “You taught me to defend myself, to be independent and not rely on anyone. Stand strong remember, fleabag? Have faith that you taught me well because I have faith in it.”
Both of his hands cup my face and with a smile that makes my toes wiggle in my shoes, he leans forward to give me the slowest, most sensual kiss I’ve had in my entire life. His mouth is hot and sweet, still tasting slightly of the coffee he had with his food.
His tongue is rough and long yet he manages to make it feel like silk stroking my tongue and the inside of my mouth. When he pulls away from me my body tries to follow and the only thing that keeps my face off the ground is him catching me. Clearing my throat, a bit embarrassed about the whole falling over him thing, I turn and start walking again.
“It fucks with my pride that I can’t protect the woman I love.” This stops me in my tracks. “There are times you’re so confident that I can see the influence I’ve had in your life, but then you’re so innocent about some things.”
“The confidence is a sham sometimes, and sometimes it’s not. Like when that Elf was there…it was a bit of both.” I don’t like admitting it, but it’s the truth.
The brand I received from taking his life is even now a throbbing dull reminder that will always be there. Contact with Ciar helps to ease it, but it seems to always hurts a little.
“Keri,” he says, so softly the wind almost snatches it away.
I continue on, because I need to. “I survived because of you and this gift curse thing that Faerie gave me. The future is unknown, we can guess, sure, but whatever this power is—it’s going to cause us a lot of problems. I have to be ready for them, Ciar. I can’
t always expect you to be the hero. Sometimes I need to be my own hero.”
Ciar makes a face at me so I continue, “You made me strong remember? Why change your tune just because you’re doing me?” His green eyes flash and then he leans his head back and laughs while pulling me to him in a hug.
“Thank you for reminding me to stop being an idiot.” With that said, we start walking again, my hand wrapped securely in his.
I swear he’s even whistling.
The good mood lasts until the moment we sit down in music class and the ‘teacher’ walks into the room. Mrs. Cobbleson he is not, it’s the flipping Aristocrat from the grocery store.
Now why is he here?
That slick smile that is ‘Fae’ attractive turns up when he spots me sitting in the back row of chairs. Ciar tenses beside me but otherwise doesn’t react. That beautiful face of his is relaxed, almost bored looking. His ankle is resting on his knee and his arms are crossed.
The man is studying his fingernails like this is just another day while I’m sitting here so tense I can probably crack walnuts with my butt.
Ciar coughs, his mask dropping long enough for him to give me a look of reluctant amusement. That’s what he gets for eavesdropping in my brain while I’m nervous, he’s lucky I’m not a nervous farter.
I’m lucky I’m not a nervous farter. That idea is awful, a full brass band would be coming out of my butt right now—bass drum and all. Ciar coughs again and I stare at the floor, fighting to keep a straight face.
“My predecessor shared the schedule that you’re all supposed to adhere to at the Mixer. After some careful thought on the matter I have decided that only one couple shall perform,” he looks right at Ciar and I, “the Nightshades.”
The class explodes in protests and cries of favoritism, which are immediately silenced when the Fae—who’s name I still don’t know—pans his gaze around the room.
My nerves aren’t acting up because I’m afraid of him. It’s because I’m worried about what he can do to me as a whole. I’m not entirely sure I can avoid serving a house since I’m Awakened. Mada can’t claim me since I wasn’t born there with her. Only blood counts.
