The one bonus was that I hadn’t been in a relationship with a guy so wouldn’t have to sort out how to handle that. The natural progression of that line of thinking had me realizing that I would probably need to date Fae men if I wanted a relationship. Sex with humans was allowed, according to Lochlan, but I wasn't sure if love and marriage were permitted. Did the Fae even have marriage? Would I want to be with human men if I was now immortal? Why was this happening to me?
Lochlan said my powers were unknown to him. What did that even mean? Why would I have powers that the other Seelie didn't have? I still had so much to learn and it made my head hurt even worse so I tried to close my eyes and clear my mind. I was more tired than I realized because in no time at all, I was out cold.
20
When my alarm woke me the next morning, my headache was still pulsing away and my stomach churned at the prospect of getting out of bed. If this was the backlash from eating Fae food, I was never touching the stuff again. How could the food bother me so much if I was supposedly already part Fae? I added that question to my growing list and forced myself to get up.
After I had showered, dressed, and eaten breakfast, I grabbed the knife that Lochlan had given me and dropped it in my purse. I set my dishes in the sink and thought about the little Fae man who had been on my table and how much his green skin had reminded me of Cyrene. I couldn't assume he was friendly just because they had the same color skin, but I also didn't want to make a negative assumption based on being Fae.
Instead of rinsing the uneaten bits of egg from my plate, I set it on the counter and added some cheese and a couple crackers. I had no idea if the little man would come back, but if he did, I figured I'd extend an olive branch and see where it got me.
My morning at work was spent on the acquisition of a painting that was being donated by bequest upon the death of a wealthy benefactor. Museums often purchased artwork, but they also received many items by donation either as gifts or bequests. In this case, the woman's will provided for the bequest but only under specific circumstances, and the satisfaction of those conditions precedent was a lengthy process that was going to involve lawyers, time, and lots of paperwork. The painting was a portrait made in 1918 of the woman's great grandmother and the remaining family was not thrilled about the donation. Therefore, in addition to making sure we complied with the will, we were doing our best to ease tensions and appease the family.
Around lunchtime, my headache was finally subsiding and I had enough of a break to run down to the ground level in search of Cat. I wanted to share my adventure to Faery and see if she had any new information for me. Monday mornings the museum had little traffic and I found Cat at the visitor's desk reading a magazine.
“You’re never going to believe what happened to me last night,” I said in hushed tones.
Her eyes grew round as she closed her magazine, attention fixed on me. “Oh, I'll believe it, tell me everything!”
“When I walked into my house last night, I was kidnapped and taken to Faery.”
Her eyes opened so wide I was mildly concerned her eyeballs were going to pop right out of her head. “You’re joking,” she breathed.
“Queen Guinevere had her man kidnap me and I spent the day there, had dinner with her Court, talked to her in the gardens and then they brought me back.”
“She knows that you know about the Fae and she didn't kill you?”
“No, why would she want to kill me?”
“Oh, I don’t know—isn’t that what the Fae do?”
I shrugged in response and continued to tell her in detail about my trip to Faery.
“She said there's a war coming?” Cat asked. “The elders are worried about that too, that's why they want to meet you, Rebecca. I'm not sure when yet, but they said it was time. After I told them about the red caps, everyone's been on edge.”
“I'd love to meet with them—the more allies and information, the better. You just tell me when and where and I'll be there.”
She quietly clapped her hands in excitement and I was reminded how fortunate I was to have someone to confide in about the Fae. “Oh! That reminds me. When I told you about the red cap attack, I forgot to mention that your bracelet saved me!”
“You’re joking.” Her eyes grew round again and I laughed.
“Is that all you can say today? No, I'm not joking. One of those nasty creatures went to slash me with his razor-sharp claws and when I put my arm up to defend myself, the charm on the bracelet threw him back and left me unharmed. Unfortunately, the bracelet was damaged by the hit and fell off, but before that, it was a life-saver.”
“I've never seen the spell work.” She spoke in awe of herself and studied a similar bracelet on her wrist. “I’ve drawn out the protection rune a million times, thinking it was more like a lucky charm. My mum has told me the runes work, but I've never had any tangible proof.”
“I'd love for you to make me another one, if you wouldn't mind.”
“I'll work on it tonight.”
“Perfect! Thanks, Cat. I better get back upstairs before the others wonder where I've run off to.” She saluted me with a goofy grin and I headed back to the fourth floor offices.
I was exhausted by closing time. I gathered my things and headed home in the crisp evening air, which was refreshing and helped reinvigorate me. The trees that hadn't already dropped their leaves still boasted beautiful fall colors and even in the dark they decorated the area.
I wondered whether the food scraps I had left out would be gone when I got home. And if they were, did the brownie take them or did I have mice? How was I going to be able to tell the difference unless I witnessed him retrieve my offerings?
Opening the door into my dark apartment, my eyes immediately went toward the kitchen and the small plate I had left on the counter. Before I could approach, a solid form in my living room caught my attention. I screamed, dropping my bags and almost crashing to the floor when I tripped over my own purse.
“What the fuck, Becca? It's just me,” said a familiar deep voice. Lochlan.
“Jerk! Were you trying to scare me to death?” I picked up my purse and work tote, gathering the items that had scattered on the floor. “What are you doing here, Lochlan? You can't just go letting yourself into people's homes—not only is it breaking and entering, it's rude.”
His presence was huge in my tiny apartment and I had to tilt my head back to bring my eyes to his face.
“Heard you took a trip to Faery. Want to tell me how that happened?” His gravelly voice in the quiet room sent an awareness through my body and I was suddenly too hot in my own skin.
This was the first time I had seen him in a t-shirt and it was perfectly stretched over his muscular frame. I could see the bulges of his sinewy muscles and a nagging voice insisted I trace them with my tongue. His shirt was untucked over faded denim jeans and he wore his standard black boots beneath.
“How did you know I was there?” My words came out breathy and my eyes dropped to his full lips. God what I wouldn't give to suck on those lips.
Those tasty lips curved up in the corners and I realized I must have telegraphed my thoughts. I raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.
“Does it matter how I know?” He stepped a few inches closer and leaned down just a fraction toward me. “Are we going to play this game again?”
“All you have to do is answer my question.” I could feel my chest pull toward him, a magnet to his metal, and I licked my lips drawing his eyes to my mouth.
“Ditto, babe.”
His arms came around me and lifted me up against his hard body as my legs went around his waist. Our lips colliding was such a relief that a groan was torn from my chest. My hands pulled at his short blond hair and I rolled my hips on his enormous erection seeking relief to the explosive need building inside me. He walked us to the wall, pressing my back against it, and the hard length of his body leaned into the softness of mine.
Not a magnet and metal. We were both magnets, fli
pped the right way we were helplessly drawn to each other.
There was nothing delicate or romantic about our kiss, it was primal and erotic and I couldn't get enough of his taste. Seizing my chance to bite his bottom lip, I nibbled and sucked as a rumble sounded from his chest. The vibrations made my nipples pebble so hard it was almost painful. He pulled his mouth from mine slowly and we both struggled for breath.
“When you get riled up, your eyes go the most amazing shade of black.”
His words were a bucket of freezing water dousing my fiery lust. “What?”
I stuttered in question and then struggled to set my legs down and wiggled out of his grasp. Eventually he let me go and I ran to the bathroom upstairs to see for myself in the mirror. I threw on the light and froze. My cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, and my hair was ratted from where his hand had clutched in my dark waves. None of that stuff registered, though, because all I could see were the black eyes staring back at me. Like the draug, I had no irises, no whites. Just solid black.
In my stunned horror, I hadn't noticed Lochlan approach.
“They're beautiful, Rebecca. Remember what I said, don't be afraid just because they are different.” He stood behind me and my black eyes met his in the mirror. “I have never met a Fae whose eyes switched back and forth like yours. Most Seelie and Unseelie have irises and whites, it’s only the Shadow Fae that have the solid black eyes, but theirs don’t change. It seems that yours can switch between the two.”
“What happens if they go black at work or around my parents or something? I can't let people see me with black eyes!”
“You’ll have to keep yourself calm and be aware that if you do get worked up, you need to excuse yourself somewhere private until you are sure that you’re under control.”
My gaze was drawn back to the mirror where I watched myself blink several times. As my heartrate start to normalize, the black shrunk back down to my normal human pupil with my normal human brown irises. I bowed my head in relief.
“Sorry about that, I guess I freaked out a bit.”
“Come here, I've got something for you.” He headed downstairs and to the sofa where he had left his jacket. Reaching inside, he pulled out a small flip phone and held it out.
“What's this? I have a phone.” I took it and looked at him questioningly.
“This one's safer.”
“Is it spelled or something?”
“No, Rebecca, it's just a burner. I like to stay off the grid as much as possible, so if you need to contact me, use that. I've got my number programmed in it if you need to call me. You can text on it but it’s a pain in the ass and I probably won't text you back.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I teased him but instead of smiling, his eyes held mine intently before he leaned over and pressed his lips in a chaste kiss to my forehead.
“Gotta go, I'll be in touch.” And with that, he was gone.
I sighed and placed the phone in my purse before scouring the fridge for something to eat. Grabbing leftover pasta, I placed the Tupperware on the counter and remembered the dish I had laid out for the brownie. Every trace of food was gone.
I smiled to myself, feeling hopeful that things were looking up.
After I had eaten and changed into my pajamas, I sat on the floor of my bedroom in front of the mirror. Twice that I knew of, I had hidden in plain sight and if I was going to protect myself in the future, I needed to learn how to use these powers on command. With my legs crossed and my hands on my knees, I stared at myself in the mirror while chanting thoughts of wanting to be invisible.
Of course, nothing happened.
Thinking I needed to concentrate harder, I closed my eyes and imagined myself hiding, being unseen, and of nothingness. I started to feel the telltale weightlessness of a good meditation and I slowly opened my eyes to gaze at my reflection. Sitting like a dumbass in front of a mirror.
Not even a little bit invisible.
I felt incredibly foolish—like Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction on live television kind of foolish. I may not have had an audience, but I was trying to make myself invisible. Who does that?
My frustrations ate at me and I slammed my hands on the ground. How was I even supposed to know if I was invisible? Would I be invisible to myself or only others? Not that I had any idea how to make it happen anyway. I switched tactics and tried to elevate my frustrations enough to turn my eyes black, but not even that would work for me.
I gave up for the time being and decided to text Ashley. I had hardly spoken to her since she’d gone home and I was missing my best friend.
Me: U settled in at home?
Ash: Hey! Yeah but work is rough, can’t type
Me: Suck
Ash: Yeah
Me: Found out girl at work, Cat, can see Fae
Ash: WHAT?! HOW?!
Me: Went to a pub and saw vampire woman, Cat saw her too. She’s part of some group that can see Fae, won’t tell me who they are or how they see them
Ash: WTH? Why not?
Me: Scared of the Fae, don’t want Fae to know they see them
Ash: Bummer
Ash: Glad you have someone there to help
Me: U know you’re my bestie
Ash: Yeah, whatever. U better keep me in the loop
Me: Always
Ash: XX
I hadn’t intended to tell Ashley about Cat, but it was something I could share that would let her know that I wasn’t alone and should help keep her from worrying as much.
After pugging in my phone, I got in bed and my mind wandered to my kiss with Lochlan. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so affected by a man. I had no control over myself when he was near me. Like a pregnant woman with a gallon of ice cream, he was a craving that I couldn't get enough of. It wasn’t his Fae powers turning me inside out, and I would not make the mistake again of accusing him of manufacturing my lust.
His mesmerizing effect shouldn't have surprised me. There's only so much a girl can do to resist that degree of raw masculinity. Even his smell was indescribable, something rich and woodsy and solely him in a way that made my skin tingle in awareness. Having him lift me in his arms like I weighed nothing was hot as fuck and something I hadn’t ever realized I wanted, but now that I had experienced it, I longed to feel that way again. He was a drug and I was quickly becoming an addict. Lost in the memory of his arms wrapped around me, I fell into a restless sleep.
21
The next day passed relatively smoothly, albeit slowly. My parents were scheduled to arrive in the evening and anticipation always made time stand still for me. By the time they finally arrived, I had cleaned my small apartment and was waiting for them at the door.
“Hi there, sweetie!” Mom stepped inside and wrapped me in a warm hug. I basked in her lavender scent that was 100 percent Mom and gave my dad a hug before ushering them inside.
“Welcome to my humble abode! I'd give you a grand tour, but this is pretty much it.”
“It’s perfect, Bec, you don’t need anything bigger.” My dad, ever the pragmatist.
“I just wish you guys could have stayed with me.”
“No problem, we got a great deal on a rental not far from here,” Mom assured me.
“Come sit at the table and tell me about your trip while we eat.”
I prepared plates and once they were seated at the table with me on the loveseat, they told me about their flight and what they had been up to. We talked frequently, but there was nothing like catching up in person.
“Tell us about the job!” Mom said as she clapped her hands.
I definitely got my enthusiastic nature from her. Dad was more meticulous and calculated, which was great because someone needed to be the voice of reason when Mom and I got swept away in said enthusiasm.
“I love it! Fergus has been so patient and gives me plenty of opportunities to be involved in acquisitions and museum business. I’ve even become friends with the girl that works at the visitors’ desk, Cat. She's a bit younge
r than me but we get along great—she made me this bracelet, isn’t she talented!” I held out my wrist, showing off the new bracelet Cat made.
“Becca, this pyrography is beautiful!” Mom gently fingered the bracelet.
“Leave it to you to call leather burning by its technical name.” I gave my mom a hard time because the one thing she took seriously in life was art. Aside from being an artist, she was also an art major and was always on a mission to learn about new art forms and techniques.
“I wish that I had more time here, I’d love to work with her,” she said wistfully.
“Even if you don't get a lesson on pyrography, you’ll meet her at the museum.”
“We have tours planned for the next two days here in the Belfast area so I was thinking we could stop by the museum Friday. I planned an overnight trip through Northern Ireland this weekend, and I was hoping you’d come with us. Then Monday through Thursday we’ll spend in Dublin before we head out Friday.” My mom laid out their plans while my dad quietly ate.
The phrase 'Bless his heart' came to mind and I had to suppress a giggle. Back in Texas, an outsider might think it meant 'what a sweet guy,' but in this case it really meant, 'that poor sap never had a chance’. Dad was pretty much just along for the ride—there was no question who was in charge.
“Sounds great, Mom. I'd love to go with y'all this weekend, can't wait to hear where we’re going. I haven't had a chance to do any sightseeing so I'm looking forward to it. I know you said I've been here before, but I certainly don't remember anything from that trip.”
“Oh, that reminds me.” She jumped up from her chair to grab her backpack and riffled through for a moment. “Here it is! I went through all our old pictures from our trip to Ireland when you were little and found this.”
She handed me a four by six photo taken at some kind of outdoor market. A little girl with blond pigtails stood talking to a man squatting in front of her. Recognition soured the food in my stomach into a heavy lump and I broke out in goose bumps.
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