by Gabby Fawkes
Mom’s woodpecker started knocking on the van window behind me. I rolled my eyes. Any harder and it would smash the glass.
I flashed her a “five minutes” sign with my hand then I hurried inside up to Gran’s room.
I found her sitting in her rocking chair looking out the window. She could see the van from here.
“I’m going,” I told her.
She looked over at me standing in the doorway. The melancholy in her eyes was unmistakable. It sent a shard of pain straight through my chest.
Gran extended her arms to me. I went over and kneeled beside her, resting my head on her lap just like I’d done as a child. She stroked my vibrant red hair.
I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears streamed from my eyes and onto the checkered blanket draped over her knees.
“Your mom deserves this,” I heard her say. “I know you don’t see it that way, but she never liked living here. She misses her home. She misses being with her own kind.”
If her own kind were so important to her, then why did she move to Harriman for an Elkie? She’d been disowned by her parents and sacrificed untold wealth to be with Dad, only to spend the whole sixteen years of their marriage loudly regretting it. She and Gran hated each other, so it was a testament to Gran’s good nature that she could be so empathetic toward the daughter-in-law who’d always treated her like dirt. Either that or she was secretly glad to see the back of Vivian Delacour and knew how to present it diplomatically. Knowing Gran, it was probably the latter.
I raised my head and looked up at her through teary eyes. “I don’t want to leave you.”
Gran nodded her understanding. “I know. But as long as an Elkie has their bow, their family is always with them.”
She patted her own bow and quiver, which rested against the wall beside her. Even though she was too old to use it now, it was still so precious to her.
From outside the window, I heard the van horn honking. Mom was summoning me. I couldn’t put it off any longer.
I sighed and stood up, then planted a kiss on each of Gran’s papery cheeks. She held both my hands in hers for a moment, then let me go.
I hurried away before any more tears came.
When I reached the van, Gus came over for one final goodbye hug.
“Promise to me call every day,” he said.
“I will,” I replied. “And you promise to tell me all the gossip from Sunny’s. I want to know who’s dating who. Who’s accidentally gotten pregnant. Which teacher’s got a drinking problem. Everything. Okay?”
“I promise.” He squeezed my hand. “And remember. Hot Vanpari boys.”
I smirked, then pulled open the passenger door and leapt up into the van.
Mom looked over from the driver’s seat with an expression so cold it could freeze over hell. Her downy woodpecker mirrored her movement with creepy synchronicity.
“You took your time,” she said.
I sighed. “Yes, Mother. When you have people you love and care about in life, it’s nice to say goodbye to them.” I didn’t even bother hiding the scathing in my tone.
I slammed the car door shut.
Mom didn’t waste a second. She put the van into drive and hit the accelerator. She obviously couldn’t wait to get out of Harriman.
I waved out the window at my friends and family until they became specks in the distance. My heart heavy, I turned back to face the front. There was one last person to say goodbye to.
I kept my eyes peeled for the graveyard where Dad was buried. When it came into view, I pressed my hands and forehead onto the window and whispered a silent farewell.
Gran’s words repeated in my head. I had my bow. My father’s bow. And that meant I had my family with me at all times.
“Theia!” Mom snapped, breaking me from my poignant moment. “You’ve smudged the glass!”
I sighed. If I could make it through another year living with Mom, it would be a miracle.
3
Driving through New York City was a bit like entering a parallel universe. The sidewalks were crammed with people, all bustling around, looking stressed and busy.
I gaped at my first sighting of Celestials, their huge feathered wings jutting out from beneath long capes.
There were Fae dressed nothing like the multicolored hippies I was used to sharing Bear Mountain with, instead wearing chic outfits in gray and maroon. There even seemed to be a trend among the Mages to carry their bird familiars in designer, oversized cages.
Just then, the Statue of Liberty came into view. I pressed my nose to the window of the van to get a better look.
It was truly awesome in real life. Its torch burned with a yellow flame, indicating the sun-class had control of the city. Once night fell, the flame would turn black and the moon-class would dominate. Their daily lives probably looked exactly the same as this, with everyone hurrying from place to place looking irritable, cell phones glued to their ears.
“Theia, close your mouth. You look like a fish,” Mom snapped.
“I can’t help it. It’s all so weird. I mean, look!” I pointed at a woman in high heels tottering along the sidewalk with a demon-hog on a leash. It had a crystal encrusted collar. “That’s a wild animal, not a pet!”
“Demon-beasts are often domesticated,” Mom replied in a tired voice that suggested my ignorance left her aghast. “In fact, in this day and age, it’s very common. It takes a certain type to choose to hunt them.”
By certain type she meant Elkie. Elkie like me. God, couldn’t she even try to be a little bit subtle about her contempt? It’s not like I chose to be Elkie. If anything, she was to blame for getting the hots for my Elkie father!
The traffic grew heavier. Mom slowed the van. Wanting to avoid any more conversation, I turned on the radio. It tuned automatically to a local New York City station, cutting in part-way through a news report spoken by a nasally-voiced woman.
“...heavy traffic due to ongoing citywide protests. Tensions are rising among residents regarding an increase in Vanpari violence and crime. I spoke earlier to one of the protesting residents who told me Governor Benson and Mayor Storm are not doing enough, especially considering one of the so-called Vanpari Five is still on the run. People here say the Twilight Curfew needs proper policing, an issue that will likely determine the outcome of the upcoming sun-class elections between William Geiser and rival Henrietta Sugar Plum.”
“Oh, they mentioned William!” Mom gushed.
I tried to shush her so I could hear what else the news anchor was saying but it was too late. The report had ended.
I sat back in my seat and thought of the terrified Vanpari I’d stumbled across in Bear Mountain. What had he been muttering about? He’d said he “didn’t do it.” Could he really be the missing one of the Vanpari Five? He didn’t look dangerous. He was just a kid. A terrified kid.
I reached into my pocket and touched the medallion he’d dropped.
Just then, we passed a subway station. Its entrance had been barricaded and a sign read, ‘Private property. Moon-class only.’ A group of protestors stood beside it with signs covered in slogans such as, ‘Sun-class take subways too!’
I shuddered. This was not what I’d been expecting from a liberal city. Policing the Twilight Curfew again would be like turning back the clock on progress, reverting to the no-man’s land dawn and dusk of the Victorian era. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want that again.
Mom seemed oblivious to the rukkus outside the window. She had a small smile on her lips.
“I’m so glad you’re going to get a proper education at last. Finally we’ll be able to nurture the Mage inside of you.”
I groaned. I was half Mage but felt 100 percent Elkie. Mom had always wanted me to tap into the Mage part of myself, but as cool as magic was, I didn’t want to become even slightly like her. Discovering my inner Mage just didn’t interest me.
“I have enough power with my bow and arrow,” I told her firmly.
“But this is
magic, Theia. Not running around in the forest chasing demon-beasts. Magic. Control over the elements, potions, spells.” She sounded excited. “You’ll change your mind once you meet the Mage side of the family.”
“You mean the people who disowned you for marrying a dirty Elkie?” I replied. “Because they sure sound like a swell bunch.”
Mom’s smile faded. I’d extinguished her enthusiasm with my sarcasm, like a rock blunting scissors in a game of Rock-Paper-Scissors.
“You know you’ll have to dye your hair back to its natural color,” she said, returning to her usual aloof tone. “Zenith doesn’t allow colored hair. Or nail polish.”
I protectively touched my bright red hair. I’d been bleaching and dying it various colors since the age of thirteen. Colorful hair was part of my identity. Telling me I had to be a chocolate brown brunette was like telling me I had to wear an alien suit.
“Why?” I demanded, looking longingly at my bright green polished nails. “Is Zenith run by nuns or something?”
Mom turned to face me, her features unreadable. “Yes.”
I let a thin jet of breath out through my teeth and slowly shut my eyes.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
The heavy steel gates of William Geiser’s mansion opened with an electronic buzz. Mom drove the moving van through them, then began up the long driveway.
I peered out the window, my brain struggling to comprehend what I was seeing. Fountains. Topiary. A huge wrap-around porch. It was the sort of wealth you’d expect from a fraudulent hedge-fund manager. Or a drug kingpin. Or the Mafia. Oh hell!
The van halted. Mom had barely turned off the engine before she threw open the door and leapt out. I watched her run like a giddy schoolgirl into the arms of the gray-haired man standing on the porch.
William Life-Wrecker Geiser.
It was my first glimpse of him in the flesh, rather than from the frantic internet searches I’d made after Mom told me her secret. He was tall, over six foot, and despite his gray hair he looked young for his sixty-odd years. He held himself with the straight-backed posture of the extremely self-assured and gave off a revered-local-dentist vibe. So much for the Mafia drug lord theory. His Mage familiar — a bald eagle, the ultimate symbol of patriotism — gave away his political aspirations.
As I gazed at him through the windshield, I just couldn’t accept he was about to become my step-father. Dad hadn’t even been dead a year. The wounds of his passing from a sudden heart attack were still fresh. For me at least. Clearly not for Mom. She’d given me two measly days’ notice that she was replacing Dad — that she was trading up her rusty old sedan with this flashy vintage sports car. So you could surely appreciate why my mind was going a little crazy over this whole thing.
Suddenly, I was wrenched from my thoughts by someone pulling open the passenger side door beside me. I looked over and saw a woman dressed in a maid’s uniform.
She was Demonborn, possibly Erlik — the long horns and humongous overbite were a giveaway — but since there are about five hundred types of those, God forbid I guess it wrong and offend her. You could never be too PC when it came to the Demonborn. Always best to err on the side of caution.
“Yo,” I said, smiling at her. “Did you want something?”
Her eyebrows twitched inward with confusion. “I’m here to take your bag,” she explained.
Hold up! Did Geiser actually employ people to do simple things like carry bags? What was this, Victorian England with him the lord of the manor? Maybe he employed someone to wipe his ass, too.
“Nah, I’ve got this,” I replied. “Besides, it’s not actually a bag. It’s my bow and quiver. I like to keep them to hand.” I smiled proudly and patted the leather quiver.
“Oh yes,” the maid replied, her tone thinning out. “I heard you were... Elkie.”
I frowned. She may as well have gagged on the E word. And here I was being super friendly, offering to carry my own bags like a normal, capable person, and she had the gall to throw disdain at me for being Elkie?
“Seventeen years and counting,” I replied, wiggling my eyebrows.
I hopped out of the van and chose not to dwell on it. If she was prejudiced toward Elkie that was her problem, not mine. It wasn’t like I was going to see her much anyway; I wasn’t planning on calling on the maids to see to my every whim. Or any whim for that matter. I was independant and, quite frankly, the thought of being waited on appalled me.
Mom, though, that was a different story. She was already directing staff toward the van, instructing them to carry our boxes inside like a wedding-planner on the brink of a nervous breakdown. I grimaced. This whole thing was leaving a sour taste in my mouth.
I made my way toward the mansion. Mom’s woodpecker familiar was rubbing its neck against Geiser’s bald eagle in a totally gross display of affection. At least when they saw me coming they had the decency to stop, though I’d need to scrub my eyes out with soap to clear the image from my mind.
Geiser’s eagle flew up to his shoulder and watched me climb the porch steps with the overly attentive manner of a salesman. Oh boy - I was about to be schmoozed. I braced myself.
“You must be Theia!” William Geiser bellowed. His voice was as self-assured as his posture.
“That’s me,” I replied.
He offered his hand to me and I shook it. He had the overly firm grip of an authoritative personality. My fingers felt crushed in his grasp.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” he gushed, shaking my hand vigorously. “My daughters can’t wait to meet you.”
Excuse me? Daughters? Mom hadn’t said a thing about daughters!
“You have kids?” I stammered.
William was still shaking my hand. I tried to pull away but his grip was too tight.
“Two.” He beamed proudly. “Emerald’s eighteen and Heidi is starting Zenith this year as a freshman.”
I hardly had time to get my head around the revelation when William dragged me in through the front door by the hand he’d refused to let go of. I had no choice but to stagger after him, leaving Mom out in the driveway to orchestrate the moving process.
Once inside, I tugged sharply on my hand in a not-so-subtle get-the-hell-off-me kind of way. William released me, finally. I shook my hand to get rid of the cramping.
We were standing in a hallway that was bigger than my whole house. I couldn’t help but think it was an elaborate waste of space. Two stories dedicated to a staircase.
“I should help Vivian,” Geiser said. “Why don’t you head into the living room?” He gestured toward an archway on my right. “My eldest Emerald is inside. You’re both seniors. You’re bound to get along.”
Sure. Because age is the only determinant of friendship.
I peered into the living room. Sitting on the couch was a girl with long, golden hair so thick and straight it was like a glossy sheet of silk. She had the aura of a mean girl cheerleader. Her teeny tiny pores were practically glowing from the expensive facials she probably got every evening.
Then I noticed she was not alone in there. Beside her was a boy.
He had very dark hair, very dark eyes, and tan skin that made me guess he was of Hispanic descent. He had messy hair and a lithe build, muscular in a defined way rather than a bulging-bicep kind of way.
I felt a crackle run through my veins. He was exactly the type of guy I was hoping — or rather, Gus was hoping — I would meet in New York. I couldn’t wait to tell Gus. He’d be thrilled.
I stepped into the living room, lingering beneath the archway. “Hey.”
The pair looked over.
Emerald was absurdly beautiful, with doll-like features and feline-esque eyes that roved from my toes all the way up my body. When she found my bright red hair and pointy ears she grimaced.
“Ew,” she muttered under her breath.
Charming.
Since neither of them had actually returned my greeting, I added, “I’m Theia.”
Emerald rolled her eyes.
“No shit. I’d be able to see those pointy ears from a mile away.”
Her familiar — a brightly colored quetzal — chirruped in amusement.
Well, she seems delightful. Can’t wait to be step sisters.
At least the hot boy didn’t raise a smirk at Emerald’s put-down. If he held any disdain toward my type, he at least had the decency to keep it to himself.
His face remained impassive as he pushed up from the couch and offered me his hand. “I’m Nikolas.”
As his eyes found mine, a tingle went up my spine. He was gorgeous, with an intense, thoughtful gaze. My mouth went as dry as a desert.
I took his hand in mine. The second we made contact, my whole body seemed to ignite.
His hand was smooth and slightly cool. I held on to it, reveling in the sensations racing through me. Then I felt a gentle tug and realized I’d been shaking his hand for an inappropriately long amount of time.
Awkwardly, I cleared my throat and let go.
Over Nikolas’s shoulder, Emerald’s face cracked into a nasty smirk. She was practically radiating possessiveness. I figured the two were an item. Which was a shame, considering I hadn’t felt that sort of instant physical chemistry with anyone ever before. It felt like my senses had been scrambled.
As Nikolas turned, I caught a flash of gold peeking out from the top of his long-sleeved tee. He had a tattoo of twisting, golden vines branded across his clavicle. By the look of the irritated flesh, I guessed it was newly inked, which meant Nikolas had only recently made his choice.
Unlike the rest of us, Mages could draw their power source from either the sun or moon. They usually made their choice around the age of eighteen, then got a tattoo to show the world where their allegiance lay. Even my fusty Mom had a sun-class tattoo: a small golden mandala between her shoulder blades.
But Nikolas’s tattoo was in stark contrast to the jet black owl familiar perched on his shoulder. Since owls are nocturnal birds, only the moon-class have owl familiars. I wondered if that meant Nikolas had switched. In 99.9 percent of cases, a Mage stuck with the class they were raised with, because switching meant you’d be keeping the opposite hours of all your friends and family. For a Mage to switch, they’d have to have a good reason. You know, like being an exploited child star, or being raised in a crazy abusive cult.
