by Amy Patrick
* * *
Making my way to the music room, I stood in the doorway for a moment and surveyed the gathering of Elven guys. The members of The Hidden came over several nights a week for band practice.
These people had become my friends in the past few weeks. Kind, sympathetic, and generous, they’d opened their home and their hearts to a total stranger, an outsider, a human. They were nothing like the members of the Ancient Court. I wished Nic could have gotten to know them.
The guys had just arrived and were laughing and joking with each other. Each one of them was well over six feet tall and ridiculously well-built—the fans at their concerts must have had a hard time not fainting and missing the show. But in spite of their size, they acted like boys when they got together. Man, was I going to miss them.
Blinking back wistful tears, I watched as Matteus grabbed Rolf in a headlock, and the two of them wrestled. Nox’s bond-mate watched them as she made her way to the door to leave, smiling but clearly worried about their rough play.
“Watch out for the glass doors—I swear, you two,” she said. “If I have to call another repairman…” She rolled her eyes and gave me an Am I right? look before leaving.
Anders approached Nox, and the two of them locked wrist-holds and shoulder-bumped. Nox had told me his band members were like his family, especially since he’d grown up without many blood relatives to count on. He and Anders seemed the closest.
Twisting to glance back over his shoulder, Anders spotted me first. He turned around and smiled, watching me enter the room, nodding in approval.
“Look who’s finally come to sing with us. Now we can get a break from Nox’s terrible pipes.”
Nox, who had the most unearthly beautiful voice I’d ever heard—laughed. “Thanks, buddy. Maybe Macy’s singing will cover for the weak keyboard playing in this band.”
I stepped into the room, approaching them all shyly. “I’m not here to sing.”
“Oh, come on, Macy. Do we have to beg?” Anders said. “Although… how much vocal power could possibly fit into such a teensy weensy package? She probably sounds like a munchkin.”
Nox cuffed his friend lightly on the back of the head.
Anders spun to glare at him, rubbing his own scalp. “Hey—”
“We’ll have no size-ism here,” Nox said, his tone light but a warning in his eyes.
“I like short girls,” Anders protested. “She knows I was teasing.”
Reaching the group, I spoke quickly before I lost my nerve. “It’s fine. Listen, I’ve come to tell you all… goodbye.”
“What?” Matteus and Rolf said in unison, freezing their wrestling match.
“Goodbye?” Anders frowned.
“Yes. I’m leaving. In a few minutes—I’m all packed.”
Nox nodded in understanding. “Ready to see your family?”
“Uh, no.” I worked to keep my voice strong, not wanting to show any sign of wavering. “I’m going to get back to my traveling. I’ll probably avoid Europe this time, for obvious reasons, but I’ll backpack around the U.S. a bit then maybe head for Australia. I’ve always wanted to go there.”
Now Nox’s brow furrowed in concern, matching Anders’ displeased expression. “I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
“I’m fine. Well, I’ll be fine. I think it will help. I need to do this.”
Nox searched my face. “I promised Nicolo I’d watch out for you, but I can see you’ve made up your mind, so I’m not going to try to stop you—”
Anders interrupted. “Well, somebody should stop her.” He glanced around the room as if garnering support. “Look at her—she can’t be out there wandering around alone.”
No one said a word, clearly unwilling to interfere. Anders huffed a loud, irritated breath, throwing his hands in the air and turning away.
“As I was saying,” Nox continued. “You’ll always have a home here, should you change your mind about leaving or if you ever want to return. But I will worry about you, so please check in every once in a while and let us know you’re okay. Promise?”
I nodded, fighting tears. “I promise. Thank you for everything. I can never repay you for rescuing me from the fan pod or for giving me a place to recover these past few weeks.”
“It’s nothing,” he said. “I only wish I could have helped Nic.”
Now the tears spilled over, and I wiped them away. “Me, too.” I held out the loaner phone I’d been using.
“You keep that,” he said.
“No. Thanks, but I’m going to go off the grid for a while.”
His eyes were sad but understanding as he took it. We reached for each other at the same time, sharing a brief hug before letting go.
“I’ll miss all of you,” I said to the room in general, though my eyes went to Anders, who’d finally turned back around to watch me with a baleful expression.
I raised my hand in a goodbye wave as I backed toward the door, taking one last mental picture of my new friends, knowing it was probably the last time I’d see any of them.
Before I turned to go, I caught Nox and Anders exchanging a long, intense look. Now that I’d spent time with them, I understood that meant they were conversing mind-to-mind. No doubt Nox was advising his moody friend to mind his own business.
But when they broke eye contact, Anders nodded, and he didn’t seem angry or annoyed. In fact, he wore an expression that looked strangely like satisfaction.
25
Nic
Thirsty. I was unbearably thirsty. My throat was on fire, and my tongue felt like a dry leaf in my mouth.
My eyelids opened with some difficulty, and I blinked to clear the clouds from my eyes, searching the bedside table for a glass of water, my morning coffee, anything liquid would do.
There was indeed a pitcher there, silver and covered in delicious-looking beads of condensation. I struggled to sit up and reach for it, not sure if I planned to lick the thing or pour some into a glass or maybe just tip the whole pitcher into my mouth.
Before my hand could make contact with the handle, someone knocked it away, sending a ringing echo of pain all the way to my shoulder. That pain was followed by a hard strike to my cheek, then another on the opposite side. My dormant pulse sprang to hyper-alertness.
I struggled to get my arms up into a defensive posture, but they were abnormally heavy and weak. What was going on? Why was I so lethargic? Who was hitting me? And then I heard his voice.
“You idiot,” Dr. Schmitt spat. “You foolhardy boy. Wake up. Wake up so I can kill you.”
“Wha—what’s going on?” I slurred.
Clearly the doctor had sedated me again after delivering the shocking news about Macy. The druggy haze was beginning to lift, though. “If you’re here for another ‘contribution’ you can go to il Diavolo.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “What a joke. Your contributions are worthless. All that planning and waiting… years of work wasted.”
He struck my face again. “The procedures didn’t take. None of them. We harvested from you many times and tried it with fan pod girls from throughout the Ancient Court. Apparently the nymph’s blood mixed with yours and tricked your cells into believing you’d bonded with her. You are completely useless to us now.”
In spite of the pain radiating through my jaw and the drained, heavy feeling that kept me pinned to the bed, I laughed.
“Your master slave race… I’m so sorry.”
“You will be.” He held up a large syringe. “I considered injecting you with this one final concoction without ever allowing you to regain consciousness, but then I thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be so much better if he knew?’ Then you could experience the same anguish you’ve put me through because of your foolishness.”
“Knew what?” The gleam in his eye told me the answer was going to be bad. “The Plague has begun?”
“Oh, no,” he said primly. “That is right on schedule for next year when the time is right—and now that we’ve injected the re
mainder of the fan pod girls and released them, we have full coverage across every continent where humans infect the earth. No, I woke you because I have news about your beloved Macy.”
I didn’t speak, didn’t breathe, just stared at him, waiting while my heart sizzled over hot coals.
“You’ll be delighted to know that my people have located the girl and are on their way to retrieve her as we speak.”
Now I couldn’t breathe even when I tried.
“So quickly?” I gasped, trying in vain to push Dr. Schmitt from the edge of my bed where he sat, to force him out of the way so I could get my feet on the floor. I had to go to her—had to find her before the doctor’s henchmen did.
“No, actually.” He chuckled, his tone smug. “It took quite some time. A year, in fact.”
He stared down at me, a smile creeping slowly across his face as he waited for his words to register.
My insides felt like lead as I reached up to touch my own face. My hand came into contact with a full beard, thick and long, and a sound of despair rumbled in my chest.
A year?
I’d been sleeping for a year. While Macy had been hunted. While innocent girls had been experimented on and the end of the human race crept ever closer. The lead inside heated, melting and pouring through my veins like the poison that no doubt awaited me in Dr. Schmitt’s syringe.
What must Macy have been thinking all this time, never hearing from me, on the run alone? She must have believed I no longer cared about her—or that I never did. Maybe she thought I’d been locked in a dungeon for eternity or decided to cooperate with my father’s scheme after all, choosing blood ties over love.
I had to get to her. I had to tell her the truth. I had to protect her.
“You evil bastard,” I roared, a new strength surging through me, fueled by pure hatred. I lunged upward and grabbed at his throat. “You kept me in a coma all this time so you could have her all to yourself. Does my father know what you’ve done?”
Gripping my wasted arms, the doctor pried my hands from his neck with ease. “No. But he won’t care once he hears what I plan to do with that nymph’s blood. We don’t need to impregnate fan pod girls when we can use the nymph to enhance the fertility of our own people. It’s perfect, don’t you see? The humans will disappear, and Elvenkind will reproduce and fill the earth. Too bad you won’t be here to see it. This time—your sleep will be permanent.”
He grabbed the syringe from the bedside table and jabbed downward toward my heart. I cringed, waiting for the blow and then the sharp sting of poison to work its way through my veins.
His arm stopped in mid-swing as if it had hit a force field or an invisible barrier. And then his hand turned, shaking, and aimed the needle at his own neck.
From behind the doctor’s looming form, Papà’s face emerged, wild-eyed and red with fury.
“You told me my son must be kept in a medically induced coma for his own health. You are a liar—and I’ve been a fool. And now you’re attempting to draw my daughter into your corrupt web of lies? No more.”
The syringe shook even harder, moving ever closer to the doctor’s throat. Sweat beaded on his terrified face, and the muscles in his hand and arm stood out in harsh relief as he fought my father’s powerful glamour with all his strength.
“I will not allow you to hurt my family any more than you already have. Whatever you were about to inject into my son will be the agent of your own doom.”
As the last word left Papà’s mouth, Dr. Schmitt’s strength failed. The needle finished its journey, plunging into his neck and depositing the deadly concoction inside. For a moment, the doctor was still, and then he collapsed on top of me, convulsing wildly.
Papà grabbed the doctor’s shoulder and yanked his weight off of me, unceremoniously tossing his body to the floor. Papà took his place, sitting on the edge of my bed and cupping my face in his hands.
“Nicolo. Son. Are you all right?”
I nodded, and he gripped my shoulders, pulling me up to embrace me tightly. “I am so sorry. I did not know. I hope you believe me—I did not know. Your mother and I believed you had taken poison and the coma was keeping you alive while your body healed. Dr. Schmitt lied to us. If I had not come in to check on you—”
His words broke off with a hoarse sob before he continued. “My judgment has been clouded. I cannot believe I let things get so out of hand. I have missed you, my son.”
Managing to extricate myself from his hold, I moved to the opposite side of the bed, swung my feet over the edge, and stood on unsteady legs. Grabbing a shirt from a nearby chair, I pulled it on and started toward the door in halting steps.
“Nicolo? You shouldn’t be up so soon, son. Rest and let us get you some food and water,” Papà pleaded.
Slowly, I turned to face him. “Am I free to go? Or am I your prisoner?”
Papà’s face contorted in confusion. “Prisoner? No. You are not a prisoner. You are my son. This is your home.”
I resumed my staggering progress toward the door, determined that nothing would stop me. Before stepping through it, I turned back to see my father’s pained expression. I felt nothing at all.
“Not anymore, Papà. Not anymore.”
26
Nic
Boarding the jetliner for America, my heart lifted with the first stirrings of hope.
I was also filled with a sense of urgency. Dr. Schmitt was dead, but it was possible his operatives didn’t know that—or maybe they’d continue pursuing Macy even without him. I wouldn’t feel at ease until I’d found her.
With that in mind, I had refused my mother’s pleas to stay for a few more days until I’d regained my strength—and her plea to shave, not really caring how I looked anymore. Now I was glad.
I smiled, stroking the heavy beard. Not one person had recognized me on my walk through the airport, and here in the first class cabin, no one gave me a second glance, save for the flight attendant, who bid me a crisp, impersonal “good morning.”
I’d already been in contact with Nox, who was more than a little surprised to hear from me. Apparently he—and everyone in the Young Court—had believed I was dead. Of course I’d asked about Macy first thing, hoping he might know where to find her. Missouri was a big state, but maybe if he’d taken her home himself, he could help me narrow my search.
“She’s not there,” he’d said, his voice tinted with regret. “And she’s not here, either. I’m sorry. I invited her to stay, but she insisted on going out on her own again and traveling. She was… pretty broken up. We all were.”
In spite of my best efforts to stay positive, I couldn’t stop the sinking feeling that had permeated my soul.
“Don’t worry about it. You more than did your part by getting her out of Europe safely. Thank you, my friend, for watching out for her. And don’t worry. I’ll find her.”
“I’ll help any way I can,” Nox had said.
He’d sounded a bit strange, but then our international connection wasn’t that clear. I’d speak to him again when I arrived in the States. I wasn’t sure how I would survive the fourteen hour flight to get there, though.
Not that I had a problem with flying. My heart so longed for Macy it felt like fourteen minutes would be too long to wait. Just to see her face again would be the greatest joy. But when I imagined telling her what I’d learned of her heritage, that she was also an immortal Fae and we could be together forever—the anticipation inside me threatened to explode and blow a hole in the fuselage.
Of course, it wasn’t just the anticipation of a happy reunion that had me eager to find Macy. She needed my protection.
I’d spoken to Alessia before leaving home, feeling obligated to inform her of our new circumstances. She knew about Macy. Dr. Schmitt had told her about his nymph hunt, and the fact that I was, for all practical purposes, bonded to Macy, rendering me unable to bond with anyone else for eternity. To say that she was angry would be one of the greatest understatements ever made.
/> “You have ruined me,” she had screamed, picking up and heaving the nearest object at my head. It happened to be a weighty marble statuette, so it was a good thing my reflexes had been back to full capacity. “I will be a laughing stock among our people.”
In spite of her attempt to decapitate me, my heart leaned toward her a bit. It was monstrously unfair. The guy she was betrothed to had left her for another girl—twice. “Our people will blame me, not you for our broken betrothal. I am sorry, Alessia. I didn’t plan it this way.”
“No, but she did. She wrecked my life. Dr. Schmitt was right—the humans will destroy us all, unless we destroy them first.”
“They don’t even know about us. And Macy is not human.”
“You thought she was, though. Just like your precious Mariana.” Her face had scrunched in a sour pout as she said the name of my long-ago first love, a name that no longer caused even a twinge in the region of my heart.
“And just like that pitiful creature Culley Rune chose for himself. You so-called men are all weak—you allow yourselves to be lured and manipulated, and it will be the death of us all unless someone steps up to stop this,” Alessia raged.
She’d always had a hot temper, but I’d never seen her like this. She was… not well. I took a step toward her, my hands raised in front of me palms-out in the kind of calming gesture I’d seen our stable master use with a skittish horse.
“We are not in danger. You are not in danger. You have been listening far too much to Dr. Schmitt. He is gone now. There’s no need to continue thinking about him or his paranoid ideas or his malignant plans.”
She narrowed her eyes into a snake-like slit. “The rulers of the Ancient Court disagree with you. They are quite eager to continue with Dr. Schmitt’s plans. And, thankfully, the doctor shared everything with me before his untimely end.”
“His backup plan—his associate,” I said, my heart thumping with a hard extra beat. “It’s you.”
