Romance with a Bite

by Tamsin Baker

  “Here.” My mother waves her hand and an ornate, silver, hand mirror materializes in the air. She leans forward to pass it to me. I double-check my neck from every possible angle, confirming what my finger exploration already revealed.

  How is that possible?

  “I was dying. I was dead.”

  “No, you weren’t. I would know.” Vaguely, I recall saying something similar to Luc when I first met him, and the urge to laugh is ridiculous but strangely comforting. Oh, Luc.

  “You were less than a minute away from death in the human realm, by my calculation. You almost made me experience the banshee cry.” Mother’s indignation is so strong she almost has me feeling sorry for her.

  “Hold on a—”

  “Of course, I brought you back here.” She interrupts as if I haven’t spoken at all. “Our magics are strongest at home, and we needed everything we had to bring you back from the brink. We almost didn’t succeed.”

  I’m intimately familiar with death and well aware how close I came to losing my life. My connection to living was as tenuous as spider silk, and not nearly as strong.

  “We? Was it you who saved my life?”

  “Well.” If I didn’t know better, even after spending only a few minutes with this woman, I’d say my mother was embarrassed. “Tarrien did, I suppose.”

  Tarrien? I look beyond her to the male fae now standing several meters away. He raises a hand and tips his forehead. I nod back and tap my heart. He lifts his brows as if surprised, and then flashes me a quick grin. Bet dear old mom has never thanked him for anything.

  Dear old mom is still speaking when I tune back in. “—at my say-so, of course. He’s a winter warrior, so he carries the power of healing as well as death.”

  “Whereas your power—and mine, I guess—is only about death.”

  She half rises out of her seat. I’ve clearly hit a nerve. “No! My power is about life, Aleachiarsiwella. As is yours. We might be destined to forever experience the banshee cry of death, but that cry is as much about life as it is about anything else. It provides the balance and harmony. Where there is life, there is also death. The yin to the yang, as the humans say. Our call provides the living with enough warning that they have a chance to say goodbye. Many don’t ever have that opportunity, especially when a banshee is not there to furnish a warning.”

  But that’s not enough. I don’t want to give people the chance to say goodbye. I want the power to save life. To protect the people I love.

  “Is Luc alive?”

  Mother raises a brow. How is it possible for her to convey supreme distaste in that gesture and still look elegant? “You mean that…vampire?” Her mouth lifts in a sneer. “The one who was there when your father passed? Yes, he survived. Though why you’d care about a non-fae—and that particular creature especially—is beyond my understanding.”

  Horror punches me in the gut and I nearly lose the contents of my stomach all over this pillowy white comforter. “Luc…killed dad?”

  Luc—the man I allowed to take my virginity? He’s alive. Relief fills me, followed by horror. He killed dad. But he made it. He made it. He’s alive. A roller coaster of emotions washes over me. It’s not possible. Is it? Surely, he didn’t…he’s alive. He made it.

  I don’t realize I’m holding my stomach, rocking back and forth and moaning, until she gently takes my hands and forces me to stillness. “Stop, child. You’re embarrassing yourself, and me. Your supernatural lover is still alive. And no, he didn’t kill your father. Why do you have to be so dramatic?”

  “Are you serious?” I stare at her, finally seeing her true nature. Seeing beyond the surface beauty that presumably attracted my father, to the cold and calculating creature that lies beneath. It is as if the deceptive silver mist has cleared. This banshee—this woman who birthed me—is not a nice creature at heart. She doesn’t care about anything except herself, and clearly, she receives enjoyment from baiting me.

  For the first time in my life I’m seriously happy she left when she did. Imagine being raised here, in this cold, empty place by a woman clearly without empathy for others? I’m glad I was raised by my human half of the family. Even if my aunt was less affectionate toward me than she would have been if I were one hundred per cent human, she never deliberately said or did anything to make me feel bad.

  “If he didn’t kill dad, then who did? How do you know about it? And why was Luc there?”

  The answer to that final question is more important than why or how I ended up in the faerie realm.

  She shrugs. “His Maker went rogue and partnered with a were shifter. Together, they killed many innocent humans before your pet vampire brought them down.”

  He brought down his own Maker? Veronique, the woman he professed to love. I can’t even imagine the horror he must have felt at having to take such action. Oh, Luc.

  I want to see him. I want to hold him. I want to confirm for myself that he really is okay.

  Thoughts tumble through my brain. I don’t really understand. Another rogue pairing? Has this current strangeness in the world been going on for twenty-five years? Why wouldn’t he tell me that, if not the rest?” I think back to how quickly he disappeared out the door after he discovered my dad had been killed by a female vamp. There was opportunity then to mention it, surely? My eyes narrow. “And how do you know this?”

  Mother stands and begins to pace the bedroom, if that’s what this strange mist-filled room can be called. There’s definitely a bed, and a chair and side table, but beyond that, nothing but white-tiled floor and a ring of archways around the perimeter, each guarded by a faerie in armor. Is that for protection, or to keep me imprisoned?

  “I was not there, but others were. I had someone watching over you back then, to ensure your continued safety. I arrange protection for all my babies. Your true names are powerful and in the wrong hands, can be used for ill.”

  What in fucking hell does she mean? I try to process her words as well as this overall situation, but it’s all becoming a little too much. I don’t really understand anything at the moment. “It’s a lot.”

  “I beg your pardon? Speak up, child. Your voice may not work fully in the human realm, but it should work perfectly well here at home.”

  “Nothing.” Part of me wants to smack this goddamn woman. Instead, I take a deep breath, and then another. Okay. Calm. “Do you confirm that Luc didn’t kill dad, but instead, he killed the person who did?”

  At her affirmative nod, I add, “He killed his own Maker?” I still can’t comprehend the difficulty of that decision. I wish we’d had the chance to talk about it before everything kicked off and turned to chaos.

  “Yes.” She shrugs and moves on to another subject, as if Luc and his potential angst is of no consequence. I guess, to her, it isn’t. “It’s good to see you healed, Aleah. Isn’t it lucky we found you in time to bring you back to the Court?”

  “Ah. Yes. Lucky.” No matter what I might feel about her, the fact that I’m alive right now is clearly testament to her intervention. And Tarrien’s, of course. “Thank you for saving my life, Mom.”

  “Stop—it’s Renna. Call me Renna.”

  Nice to finally know my mother’s name at the age of twenty-nine. I’m guessing it’s not her true name, though, if she’s so hung up about that topic.

  “Which Court, um…Renna?”

  “Winter, of course. You’re a banshee.”

  Winter makes perfect sense. Death is the ultimate ending, and yet there are many who also believe it is only the beginning. “I guess being a banshee could fit equally well in the Spring Court.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. There’re only two courts in our realm—Winter, or Summer. No in-between. Fall sits with us, and Spring with the other.”

  Well, okay. You learn something new every day. “So, this is Winter, and you live here, now?” I slide my legs out of bed, not sure if I want to check out a part of my heritage I never considered before this moment, or if I just want to head str
aight home to my own world. And Luc. The decision is a no-brainer, really.

  “I’ve always lived here. I visit the human world only to create more of us. It’s the task I’ve been given by the King, himself.” Pride laces her tone. “Banshees are fading out, Aleah, and it is my duty to re-populate however I can. You have several half-brothers and sisters in the human realm. Likely another in around eight months’ time.”

  She lays a hand on her abdomen and I have to fight hard not to cringe. She’s expecting? Ew! Which poor human sucker has impregnated her this time? How long will she hang around in the child’s life before she says sayonara and disappears yet again?

  I swallow back the bitter words and aim for general nicety instead. “Congratulations.”

  She smiles widely and strokes her belly. “Thank you. At first, I thought one or two of you would do, but once I started it seemed like a good idea to keep going. Plus, humans make very good lovers.”

  “Right. Okay.” Too much information. “So, how do I get out of here? I think it’s time for me to head home.” I really need to see Luc, and talk to him about what happened twenty-five years ago in my dad’s apartment. In my apartment.

  I head determinedly across the tiled floor, searching vainly for a door. Which of the many archways leads to the exit? Or maybe there is no exit. Do they all simply teleport in and out of this place?

  A wide-shouldered fae steps forward as I reach one of the archways, blocking my departure. He looks to my mother and awaits her response, stepping back silently to let me pass when dear old Mom glides up and gives an affirmative nod.

  “Which way?” I don’t mean to sound terse, but this place is not conducive to calm and relaxing. At least, it definitely isn’t for me.

  “Here.” Her hand touches my arm lightly and guides me to the left. “Come, you can at least see a little of home before you run away.”

  We’re in a long corridor of what appears to be a grand home or perhaps a small castle. As we pass an opening in the wall—I won’t say window, because there’s no glass—I glance out on a world filled with silver-white wonder. Snow-covered grounds and thin trees bare of leaves shouldn’t be so beautiful, but my heart lifts at the sparkle of light twinkling among the branches. It’s the effect of sunlight arrowing its weak, winter beam through icicles dripping from the trees.

  The view is picture-postcard-perfect and for the first time since I woke, I feel a faint sense of connection. “This is beautiful, Renna.”

  “It is.” For the first time, her tone reflects true happiness. “And now that I brought you here, you will always be able to return if you wish. Despite your half-breed status, your fae blood is strong. All you will need to do is remember this view and this emotion,” she rests her hand briefly over my heart, “and you will find the path back to Faerie.”

  As she speaks, the walls disappear and morph into a doorway, and we enter what appears to be a large throne room filled with people. These people, though, are like no others I’ve met so far in my life. These people are clearly all fae. Tall, pale and ethereal in their beauty, both men and women alike glide around with movements that seem effortless and smooth. Some have dark hair like that of my mother and me, but others are as pale-blonde as it is possible to be. All have the trademark pointed ears and high cheekbones that denote a full-blood fae.

  I finger my own ears, glad in one sense that I inherited my father’s normal, human-shaped ears, but I feel so out of place here that I surreptitiously rearrange my hair to cover the anomaly. Everyone seems busy, intent on whatever business takes them scurrying through the space, but there are clusters of fae chatting and laughing and at the end of the great hall, a dais where two enormous thrones sit empty.

  “Are they for the Winter King and Queen?” I’ve not heard anything about Faerie other than what I’ve read or seen on television, and most of those speculations are based on human imagination, rather than reality.

  Renna laughs, the sound joyous and carefree. “Oh, Aleah. I didn’t realize how little you know.”

  Well whose fault is that, woman? I don’t say it out loud, but I do raise a pointed brow when I turn to stare at her, and after a moment her cheeks turn a delicate pink. “Yes, well…” She clears her throat. “The Winter Court no longer has a Queen. King Tryppton banished her several years ago, when he discovered her in bed with her warrior protector. The king is currently in the market for a new consort. There’s a ball next week to introduce the current round of suitors.” Her gaze turns calculating. “Hmm. Maybe…”

  “Absolutely not. Besides, I’m sure Faerie wouldn’t want a half-breed on the throne. No one likes a half-breed, do they?” Except, perhaps, a certain vampire policeman. The thought of Luc sends a pang right to my heart. Where is he right now and what is he doing? Does he wonder where I disappeared to? Does he even know I’m still alive? Has he managed to survive since I was brought here?

  “How long have I been here, Mo—I mean, Renna?”

  “You were unconscious for four days. Your wound was severe, Aleah, as was your loss of blood. It took all of our healing magics to repair the damage to your throat. Not a bad job, if I do say so myself.”

  Four days. That’s not so bad. Unless… “Is time the same here as it is there?”

  “You mean, in the human realm? Sometimes, but not always. Time is less…rigid here. Four days, four weeks…” She waves a laconic hand. “Could be four years, I suppose. When you return, you’ll know.” Four years? He could be with someone else. He could be dead.

  “I appreciate you bringing me here and healing my wound, but please. I need to get home as soon as possible.”

  My mother pouts daintily. “You’re no fun. Your father was the same. Very staid and proper.” She sighs heavily, and just as I’m about to insist, she adds, “All right. Just think of the location you wish to be. Think of exactly where you want to be, and with my magic to boost you…” She lays a hand on my forearm. “There. Now think of a location and the magics will guide you along the faerie paths.”

  Guess I wasn’t far wrong with my teleporting joke. I close my eyes and fill my mind with thoughts of Luc. I don’t know where he is now, or even when now actually is for him, but I hope and pray he has remained in Hatton Grove.

  Silver light bursts behind my eyes, growing and spreading until there is nothing but the light. I open my eyes and the light recedes until I’m standing in the dark. It is the dark of night. I’m back in my own world. Home.

  Luc is seated on the front porch stairs, his head in his hands. As I take a step forward his head whips up, nostrils flaring, and he stares at me with obvious shock. “Aleah? You’re…alive?” A blur and he’s on me, lifting me into a tight hug and squeezing so hard I can no longer breathe.

  Chapter Nine

  Luc

  She’s not dead. She’s not dead. I seriously can’t believe it.

  “Stop—Lu—can’t…breathe.” Hell! I release the pressure of my embrace. I’m so happy to see her alive I instantly begin squeezing the life out of her.

  “Sorry, I—I thought you were dead. I thought you died, and she took you back to…well, to wherever fae go when they die.”

  When Aleah’s mother first took her away, I hoped against hope that she had taken her to Faerie for healing. When she didn’t return, hope began to fade.

  “They used fae magics to heal me. I couldn’t believe it either, when I woke up. I’m fine, Luc. I’m alive, and I’m truly fine, I promise.”

  Eventually I let her down, but keep her in the circle of my arms. It feels good to hold her solid warmth against me.

  “Wow, you’ve lost weight, Luc.” Her hands flutter over my ribs, and exploratory fingers knead my back. “Haven’t you been…feeding?”

  I shrug. “I waited here seven weeks, just in case you returned. Went back each morning to the Royal to sleep, and came back here every evening. Feeding didn’t seem as important as waiting to find out if you had…survived.” The despair grew every night she didn’t return. “But
when time passed and you didn’t reappear…”

  “I can’t believe that woman didn’t send word to let you know I made it.” She releases a hefty sigh. “On second thought, knowing a little more about my mother, I can believe it now. Wait, seven weeks? What’s the date?”

  When I tell her, her mouth drops open. “The attack happened two months ago? It’s been only a few days for me, Luc. I woke from a four-day coma—well, a healing sleep they called it—this morning. Wow. Time really does work differently in the fae realm.”

  I don’t care how long or short it’s been. She’s here, and breathing, and now I have the chance finally to ask for forgiveness. “We need to talk, Allie.”

  “Hmm.” She disentangles from my embrace and steps back, crossing her arms in front of her. “That we do.”

  There’s awareness in her eyes. “You know?”

  “Renna took great pleasure in telling me you were there at my father’s death.”

  “No! At least, that’s not quite how it was. I—”

  “I know what happened. I’m so sorry, Luc. Sorry that you had to be the one to…um....”

  My flinch is instinctive. Even after all these years, the guilt is like a gut-wrench of pain. She’s trying to spare my feelings, but maybe it’s finally time to face them squarely. “The one to kill my Mistress? Yes. It was the most difficult decision I’ve ever had to make. No choice though, in the end. Veronique went rogue.”

  “She and another? Working in tandem, like the ones in this area?”

  “Yes, exactly like that. And it wasn’t as if Veronique showed any signs of madness in advance. One night she was her usual self, holding court at the house and barking orders like she did every evening in our Melbourne nest. The next night when we all woke, she was gone and the killing spree began.”

  Memories of family—the only family I’ve known since my turning—cause a pang in the region of my heart. “I had no idea, until you mentioned it after our lovemaking, that you were the banshee baby everyone talked about after your father’s death.”