Shadow Play_A Dark Fantasy Novel

by Jill Ramsower

  “You asked where you got your necklace and that picture made me remember, it was in Ireland! How crazy is that? The kind merchant talked to you for ages when he gave you the necklace. You two were so engrossed in your conversation, I don't think either of you had any idea I had taken the picture. Are you okay, sweetie? You look a little pale.”

  “Yeah, I'm fine, just tired after a long day at work. Thank you so much for bringing me the photo,” I said distractedly.

  In my head, all I could think was, Merlin gave me the necklace. Seeing him look exactly the same in a picture taken twenty years earlier was disorienting. The Fae didn't age but seeing direct evidence of that was a different matter. Merlin gave me the necklace. The picture was taken from a distance, but not so far that the two subjects couldn't be clearly seen in front of the tented vendor booth. Merlin gave me the necklace. He wore casual clothes suited to the nineties as if someone had photoshopped him into the old photo. He was identical to the man in the museum. Merlin thinks there's a war coming and he gave me the necklace.

  “All right, I think we've all had big days. It's time to call it a night,” Dad spoke up, pulling me from my mental vortex.

  “Wait, there was one more thing I brought for you. I got more of the incense from my friend, Jacquie,” she said as she pulled out a small bundle from her backpack. “She prepared what she could on short notice, hopefully that will help you get some sleep and if you need more, I can ship it or we can find someone here that can make you more.”

  “Thanks, Momma.” I took the package and gave her a long hug.

  “We may not see you the next two days, but we’ll come by the museum on Friday and I’ll get with you on the weekend plans.”

  “That's perfect. I'm so glad you guys are here, I've missed you.”

  “We missed you too, baby girl.” My dad wrapped me in his lean arms and I let his familiar clean scent calm my frayed nerves.

  After a long moment I pulled away and walked them to the door. It worried me to send them out into the untold dangers of the city. Fortunately, they would be on the go most of their visit, which should hopefully keep their trip uneventful, at least in regards to the supernatural.

  After we said our goodbyes, they set out hand-in-hand to walk to their rental condo. I was not raised religious, but I said a small prayer to the powers that be that my parents would remain untouched by the Fae during their time in Ireland.

  I stepped back inside my apartment and in a daze cleaned up the dishes. Why would Merlin pick me? Had he known I would become Fae? What exactly did he expect me to do with these powers? The queen had said Merlin claimed a war was coming and that I had a role to play. What exactly was it and why wouldn't he just tell me outright?

  As my questions grew, so did my frustration and anger, along with their good friend, resentment. This was never my fight. My life was derailed as a child, before I even had any say in the matter, and now I was expected to stop a war that I knew nothing about. Bullshit! Merlin had no right to drag me into his fight and force these changes in my life.

  Was I even anything like that blond little girl from the photo or had the magic changed me already? The soapy plate that I was holding slid from my fingers and shattered on the floor.

  That blond little girl.

  Milkman's daughter.

  Blond parents.

  Are you of Polynesian decent?

  Years of teasing and wondering why I looked so different from my parents smacked me in the face. That son of a bitch took me as a child and warped me. My black hair and olive skin wasn't even how I was supposed to look!

  What other fundamental changes had the magic caused? I dropped to my knees and gathered the shards of plate as tears streamed down my cheeks. I wasn't sure if I was more angry at my helplessness or sad for the child who had her choices stripped away from her.

  The quiet room calmed my racing thoughts and the stillness allowed me to hear a whispering in my mind. Not as pronounced as when the darkness had warned me of the red caps, but a similar awareness that the shadows were telling me I wasn’t alone. I scanned the room and noticed a small space between the couch and the wall where the brownie man stood watching me.

  Remembering what Cyrene had taught me, I bowed my head slowly as I lowered my eyes. The brownie stood still and just when I decided he wouldn't respond, he briefly lowered his head. Warmth filled my chest and while the ocean of negativity from minutes before was not gone, for the moment I was able to keep my head above its icy depths.

  I offered him a small smile before asking, “Do you live here?” I wasn't sure if he spoke English or any language, but talking to him seemed the next logical step in making friends. Seconds after I spoke, he disappeared and I was left alone yet again with my swirling emotions.

  I finished cleaning the kitchen, and continuing my efforts to woo the brownie, I left out a small plate of food before I grabbed my bag of incense and headed upstairs. Before long the familiar smoke filled my bedroom and wrapped me in the comforts of home. Between a long day at work and seeing my parents, exhaustion quickly swept me into sleep.

  Whispering—the feather soft touch of words buzzing in my mind stirred my conscience.

  I wasn't alone.

  He was there. The shadow man.

  I opened my eyes, and despite the darkness, I could clearly make out his ominous form standing over me. Without warning he flew at me and like he’d done in recent weeks. He entered my body, filling my lungs and mouth, seeping into my pores. I laid still and did not fight this time—I found that when I relaxed, I didn’t need to breathe and that kept me from total panic.

  Once the rush subsided I opened my eyes to the dark, empty room. A chilling calm took hold of me as I walked to the bathroom. I didn't turn on the lights, I had no need for them. Creatures of the shadows were not handicapped by a need for light. Our eyes observed everything. Glorious black eyes that stared back at me from the mirror. I reveled at the wicked intent hidden in their depths.

  Raising my hand, I licked at the blood coating my fingers and my eyes glided shut as I savored the rich flavor. The coppery liquid serving as a delicious reminder of how each of them screamed when I took their lives. Flashes of the ones she called Mom and Dad begging pathetically, drenched in warm, sticky blood. Fool humans never even tried to save themselves, better to have put them from their misery. I opened my eyes again and my dark reflection leered back at me, red-stained teeth bared in a beguilingly viscous grin.

  I am the darkness.

  I am silent death.

  I bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath, my heart pounding. My eyes immediately fell to my hands, desperately searching for confirmation that it had been a dream. In the dark room my skin was clean and unmarred by the blood that had been so real in the dream.

  I could still hear my parents' horrified cries begging me to stop. Why Rebecca, why are you doing this? My dad wept as we both stood over my mother's mutilated body.

  A sob wrenched from my chest and another until I could hardly breathe I was crying so hard. I ugly cried with snot running down my face until anger bubbled up inside me. Anger at the incense for not keeping the dreams at bay. Anger at Merlin for doing this to me. Anger at myself for becoming a monster and being helpless to do anything about it. Anger at Ronan and Lochlan for not helping me more. Anger at Ashley for leaving me. My fists pounded my bed and I screamed and raged against everything over which I had no control.

  When my energy ebbed and my throat was raw, I cried quietly on my bed. What else was I going to do? There was no stopping this collision course that my life was on. If it hadn't been for Merlin and the necklace, who knew where my life would have led. I couldn't even fathom how far back the changes could have started. Knowing someone had jacked with my fundamental being made me feel impotent.

  What if the dream was a vision of what I would become? Could I be capable of hurting my loved ones? I had no idea what becoming Fae meant, especially since no one seemed to know what kind of Fae I was or w
hat my powers were. Panic thickened the air in my room. Living forever was one thing, but killing my family was totally different. How could I have been so accepting of this? How could I have entertained the possibility of becoming Fae? They could fight their own wars. If I had any hope of reversing the magic, I needed to make that happen, now.

  I fumbled from my bed and sat in front of my bedroom mirror. Hardly glancing at my snotty, tear-stained face, I stared at my brown-eyed reflection and reached back for the necklace clasp. I tried to remove it until my shoulders ached and I whimpered in frustration.

  Getitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoff.

  I chanted in my head as panic swelled to a breaking point and I slammed my fists on the floor, screaming at my reflection. My eyes shifted to black and the mirror splintered as I screamed. Power surged in my chest and into the air around me, making the hair on my arms and legs stand on end. I embraced the magical charge, wrapped its tendrils around me and beckoned it to grow.

  My eyes still fixed on my reflection in the fractured mirror, I reached up again to the necklace clasp, continuing the chant. Sweat beaded on my forehead and heat bloomed around my neck until it was almost unbearable. Just as the pain was too much and I considered giving up, the clasp gave and the necklace slipped from my hands and into my lap.

  The room was eerily silent as I took stock of what I had done. I could be me again.

  Elated, I grabbed the necklace and quickly stood just as a crippling pain shot through my head and my stomach cramped so violently that I dry heaved on the spot. I stumbled to the bathroom, curling up around the toilet and vomited for several minutes. Black dots floated in my vision and I was sure I was experiencing my first migraine.

  Eventually my stomach calmed enough that I sat back against the bathroom wall. I realized that I still clutched the necklace in my hand. It looked so innocuous and I found it inconceivable that it had wreaked such havoc on my life.

  Standing on my shaky legs, I removed the lid from the toilet tank and tied the necklace to the flushing mechanism. I may not have wanted to wear the necklace, but I also didn’t want it to end up in some else’s hands. Once it was secure, I sank to the floor in relief and noticed that I was not alone.

  The brownie man stood not far away and next to him was a small glass of water. With his eyes fixed unwaveringly on me, he tipped his head in my direction, then toward the cup of water before stepping back from the glass.

  Slowly, so as not to scare him, I reached for the glass and brought it to my lips. Part of me worried that perhaps drinking the contents wouldn't be wise, but a larger part was thirsty and exhausted. The water was heaven going down my ravaged throat. When I set down the empty glass, I was alone again.

  I dragged myself to my feet, and using the wall as support, I fumbled my way to the comfort of my bed. Shock settled over me like a dense fog, dulling my emotions and leaving me incapable of holding a thought. The dream images, the raging emotions, the suffocating magic, removing the necklace, the headache and sickness—it was all more than my body and mind could take. I let the fog wrap me in its cocoon and drifted to a place where there was no time or space.

  22

  My alarm going off the next morning was a drill burrowing a hole into my skull. After turning it off, I lay on my back staring at the ceiling and contemplated calling in sick. There was only so much a girl could take. However, my heavily engrained work ethic was already gearing up for a guilt trip about calling in sick when I hadn't even worked at the museum for three weeks. I would be miserable either way, so I rolled myself out of bed and into the shower.

  Fifteen minutes of scalding water and I was starting to feel alive again. I dressed in a scoop-neck sweater blouse with slacks and realized that my years of unwavering commitment to the necklace meant I didn't have another to wear. I wasn't all that particular about fashion so instead, I put on some large dangly earrings and called it an outfit.

  After breakfast I gathered my things and noticed Lochlan's phone in my purse. I turned it on, surprised it was still charged. Scrolling to the contacts, Lochlan and Michael were the only two listed. I clicked on Lochlan and typed out a message informing him that Merlin gave me the necklace. He hated texting, but too bad, I wasn't up for phone calls. Not waiting for a reply that probably wouldn't come, I threw it in my purse, put on a pea coat, and left for work.

  It was a gorgeous morning, crisp but not bitingly cold and there was no wind or mist, I was counting that as a win. Not far from my apartment, I came across Ronan leaning against a building. I wasn't sure how I felt about seeing him after he’d lied to me. He was determined to make more of our relationship than it was and continuously put me between he and Lochlan when I had no desire to be in that position.

  “Hey, Ronan. What are you doing out here?” I stopped a few feet away and peered at him cautiously.

  “I wanted to see you.” He stood tall and the expression in his eyes grew more intense, putting all my senses on high alert.

  “It's awfully early to talk, maybe you should stop by the museum later.”

  “I don't want to talk around others, I just want you.” His voice was a desperate growl.

  “Ronan, I don’t want a relationship right now. Plus, you lied to me, implied things that weren't true about Lochlan, and that's not okay.”

  I flinched backward when he snarled at the mention of Lochlan’s name. Was this the same man who’d been so funny and thoughtful whenever we spent time together?

  His lips lifted in a sneer as he glowered at me. “I didn't realize you had already become Lochlan's little whore. I'm the one who’s been there for you, giving you information and helping you but that doesn't seem to matter. All you want to do is spread your whore legs for him.”

  His words were a blow to the gut and I gasped for air. My shock quickly ebbed and my temper ignited. How dare he talk to me like that!

  I crossed the distance between us and I reared back and slapped him as hard as I could. Hands trembling with rage, I stood my ground and said what would hurt him the most.

  “Lochlan was right about you, piece of shit,” I said on a shaky voice and his eyes flashed with fury.

  He grabbed my arm painfully, whipping me around to face him as if he was going to spew more ugly words at me, but nothing came out. Instead, his brows creased as if in confusion and his eyes danced from my chest to my face and back. I yanked the lapel of my coat over my chest, which had been exposed from the low neckline of my blouse, and wrestled myself from his grip.

  Taking a step back, our eyes met and my skin crawled at the devious intent written in his glare. His chin lifted and a shit-eating grin spread across his face, eyes gleaming with an unspoken threat.

  Before he could say another word, I raced toward the museum.

  As if my headache hadn't been bad enough before, the incident with Ronan and the run into work had my head pulsing angrily. Cat wasn't in yet and it was just as well, I was not fit company for anyone. I trudged to my office, hoping I could make it through the morning without vomiting.

  Lunchtime neared and pain relievers had helped reign in my headache, I went downstairs to talk to Cat. Despite removing the necklace, I still wanted to know more about Merlin in case he refused to let me walk away.

  “How's it going, Cat?”

  “Hey, Becca! Whoa, what in the name of Mary and Joseph happened to you?”

  “That bad?”

  “You look like my Aunt Moira after she gets herself langered on the black stuff.”

  “I have no idea what you just said.”

  “Drunk, on Guinness. My aunt's got a nasty problem. After a particularly long night out, she looks a bit like death the next day.”

  “Super. Thanks for that.”

  “Oh, don't be cranky. You're not so bad as her, just saying I can tell you aren't well.”

  “I'm sorry, you're right. I've had the headache from hell for two days but I didn't want to miss work. And I wanted to ask you something.”

  She leaned in with
interest. “What's your question?”

  “What do you know about Merlin?”

  She sat back, bottom lip jutted in disappointed. “He's very old and powerful.”

  “I got that.”

  “Give me a second, will you? He had a twin sister, Queen Mab, and when he fell in love, Mab became insanely jealous of his lover. She kidnapped the Fae woman and it took him years to figure out who had done it. He had to kill Mab to get his lover back, but by then it was too late for the woman.”

  “That sounds like something you'd hear on a soap opera. I wonder what kind of weird relationship he and his sister had for her to be jealous of his lover.”

  “No idea, that’s just the legend I was taught as a child. I would assume they were close since they were twins. The Fae don’t have many children and I’ve never heard of another set of twins, not that our knowledge is necessarily extensive.”

  “I suppose if you live forever it’s better not to have many children, otherwise there’d be a billion of them. Do you know anything else about him?”

  “Our stories say that he's a bit of a hermit, but that's about it.”

  “I was told Mab was extremely powerful and that she ruled the Unseelie. I’m guessing he must be unbelievably strong to have killed her.”

  “I said that already, were you not listening?” She gaped at me like I had intentionally insulted her.

  “I was but there's a difference between powerful and god-like.”

  “Don't be daft, they’re all too powerful for their own good and we are but gnats to them. Does it matter to a gnat if it's a car or a truck that runs over it? No, it's just dead.”

  “All right, I get your point.”

  She arched a brow.

  “Well if you think of anything else on Merlin, let me know.”

  “I will, Becca.”

  I went upstairs thinking about Merlin. Would he be angry that I had removed the necklace? If he was so powerful, why didn't he end the war himself? I exited the elevator to the fourth floor to find Lochlan standing against the opposite wall.