“I’ll tell you all about it later. In the meantime, if we don’t get out of here she’ll come back. We have to get out of here before your wound heals. Your corrupt fairies will wonder where their queen is.”
“Queen?” I echo.
“I don’t want to trigger her to come back out,” he says, avoiding eye contact.
He lifts me up and places a warm rag from his pocket against my injured neck. We’re standing still staring at each other. Only his markings are showing. Mine aren’t for some reason. The ends of my hair fade back to auburn, tingling all the way up to my roots.
“I’m glad to have you back…”
“Where was I?”
He completely ignores me and reaches in to hug me. His rugged skin and his untamed scruff brushes against my cheeks.
“You look a mess, jackass.”
“Do you not know how messy it is to get to you, or here?” He grips me tighter. “Witches aren’t allowed to enter the Faevil entrance, but somehow I got through. I’m not going to lose you again.”
He picks up a bag from the ground and places on a dark gray mask. His light blue eyes glow through the cracks of the cloth. It hurts for me to swallow, and I feel weak and dizzy.
“Rookies…” He lifts me up to carry my weight.
“Donovan, you have no idea how to get out of here.”
“Instinct.”
“You sound like my mom.”
“Maybe you should listen to her. She was a great woman.”
“How would you know?”
“Because she’s the leader of the shade,” he grunts, carrying me.
“She’s what?”
“Please shut up.”
We move toward the door; he throws his bag in my lap. We look out toward the hallway to see if the coast is clear. The music is still thumping against our chests, though it’s not that loud because I can hear Donovan’s footsteps on the gravel.
“Why do you have my queen in your arms?”
Donovan turns around to see a fairy with glowing hair. I don’t sense her being corrupt, and she’s holding a wooden staff.
I remember her face.
“Cloe, I fell and he’s helping me get to the forest, to heal.”
She smiles. “Oh, okay.”
“Rose is getting dizzy. Can you lead us to the forest that’s not in the entrance?”
“Rose? Who’s that?”
“My real name…” I say, nudging Donovan’s chest while faking my headache.
“Queen Eliza is weak. I need to get her to a forest.”
“You don’t have to lie to me,” Cloe says. “I knew something was wrong with her when she tried to kill a mermaid back in the shade. She’s a myth for sure.” She walks past Donovan into the darkness. “Follow me.”
Donovan catches up to Cloe’s scent. He’s a witch with a mystic in the darkness. It’s one of our specialties, the scent of our prey tickling our nose. Helps us kill them quite easily even if they’re one of the fast and slick ones, like an elf.
“She’s a character, isn’t she?” I mumble.
“If she steps out of line…Rose, I swear.”
“Fairies have an amazing sense of hearing, by the way,” Cloe chuckles.
The dark hallway gradually lightens a tiny circle of white in front of us. Cloe begins to float and disappears through the whiteness. We break through and end up in the middle of nowhere in a maze of trees and fresh, crisp air. I glance behind us, to what looks to be a rabbit hole we walked out of. Floating, Cloe turns around to look at us.
“If what the other fairies are saying about you is true, then I don’t want to be a part of this at all,” she says.
Donovan sets me down my feet, and I hold the rag against my neck.
“What are they saying about her?” Donovan’s voice is raspy.
“They’re talking about war, with witches and pure mystics and, well, humans…” Cloe’s voice trails off as she becomes distracted. Donovan and I exchange glances, and I know what he is thinking. I’m pretty sure he read my mind too.
What could Christian be planning with me?
“Thank you, Cloe, for leading us here. I will be back in shortly.”
She flies up into the trees. “I have to get you back to the shade. Don’t worry, no one will find you there.”
“Are you seriously not going to admit that I’m the cause for this ‘war’?” I say.
“It’s not you,” Donovan says. “It’s Christian.”
“Don’t bring him into this. He’s the only way I can understand the elf part of me.”
“Rose, he’s the reason I had to cut your throat.” He reaches for my hand. “You can stop the act now. I know I told you to fit in, but you’re going a little too far with this. It’s okay not to act like an elf.”
I step back. “Are you serious? This is who I am, Donovan. I’m half elf. You can’t tell me to stop acting what I am.”
I walk away into the forest. He reaches for my hand, pulling me back against him.
“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say, Rose. I’m saying the more you act or are around other elves, the more you’re going to become them.”
I raise my hand over my throat where he cut me. I feel frost and wetness. Donovan glances down at my fingers.
“Don’t overwork yourself. We need to go.”
“What? She was talking about war, Donovan. I had a projection about this.”
“A what?”
“It’s like a vision or something. I don’t know how to explain it. My head gets all hot, my markings being to tingle, and it’s like I’m dreaming. I can feel, see, and hear what is going on in the dream.”
Donovan takes my hand and leads me through the forest.
“Donovan, you’re going the wrong way…” I roll my eyes.
“How would you know?”
“I’m the elf here. It’s this way,” I say, taking his hand and walking past the same tree we first kissed in front of.
“I’m sure you remember this tree, right?” He chuckles, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
“You are so irritating.”
“We’re the perfect couple.”
I ignore what he said and continue walking in the direction to the Ellevil portal.
“You don’t think we’d make a kick ass couple? The witch mystic killers,” he laughs.
I want to give him a piece of my mind, but when I twirl around to do so, his lips press against mine. In that moment my markings tingle back on. It is him…who I need to feel alive and better again. My neck is freezing and my cut stops burning. It’s this jackass who I can’t help but love despite his stubbornness.
Our hearts beat together at once, and I felt like I am his rose that he has been trying to find among all the thorns.
“You’re such an ass.”
“Face it, you like me.”
“I don’t like anyone. I hate people.” I glance at his lips. “The first time my markings were burning when you kissed me, and now they didn’t react at all.”
The swaying grass that pulled Donovan in when we first fell into this whole new world is in front of me. I wave out my hands, spreading it apart for us.
Even if there’s a war to come, I know I’ll be ready for it. That’s the thing about Eliza Rose. Fear does not control me, my instinct does, and when this myth has rage flowing through her body, whoever stands in my way better wish they hadn’t because I’m out for blood.
Chapter 32
Donovan takes my hand and holds onto it as we gaze off into the portal with the swirling light and dark green colors. I look up at the pink and green leaves that are glowing on and off. I press the palm of my hand on the bark, feeling the sharp pulse, and the pink color shoots up the tree. The leaves instantly all turn pink, erasing anything green. A purple butterfly glides past us. It’s strange because how can such a world so mystical and beautiful become so dark and evil?
“I still don’t know how you can do that.”
“It’s an
elf thang,” I quip.
I tighten my grip around his hand, staring at the portal. I turn around to see the burned down Ellevil castle, and how I felt when I was trapped in there. All the way back to when I thought I needed to save and prove to Donovan that I can handle myself as a witch. There is silence around me; I only hear the leaves and grass brushing against one another.
“Why are you scared?”
“I’m not scared,” I say, turning around and avoiding his icy glare.
“You know how we freeze each time we touch? It’s sort of like a gateway for me to get into your mind,” he says. “It’s always been like that. It’s addicting.”
“I bet you’re satisfied.”
“Not yet.” He takes my chin and forces me to look up at him. “Don’t look down.” He stares at me like I am some sort of prize he desperately fought for.
“We’re not a couple. Get over yourself.”
“I kind of assumed we were, because I’m not leaving your side, Rose.” He takes both of my hands. “Do you hear me? Whatever happens, happens. No matter who or what gets in our way. You’ll always be my Rose.”
“My name’s Eliza.”
“I like Rose better.”
“Why?”
“Because roses aren’t perfect. They have thorns. Everything you are.” Donovan leans in to kiss my forehead.
“You’re being nice to me. I wonder why.”
“Don’t get used to it, rookie.”
A smooth breeze tickles against my skin. My hair flows in front of my face, and I forget that I am a myth. I forget all that has happened to me; all I want now are answers. The real reason my mother vanished, and the truth behind Christian. Donovan’s still on my list even if he’s being nice and ‘boyfriend-like’. I’m a cutthroat witch. My throat is actually cut. I’m going to find out why, and when I do, things won’t be too pretty. I take one last glance at Donovan and then to the portal.
“You ready, baby girl?”
“As I’ll ever be.” I walk toward the portal. “And don’t ever call me that again.”
Donovan smiles as I turn around, leaping into the portal.
The feeling is still the same; it feels like I’m hopping into an icy cold pool for the first time. My muscles are relaxed, and my hands aren’t as fidgety. A loud thump sounds next to me on the ground. Donovan is shaking too.
He fixes himself up and then lends me his hand. He doesn’t like the feeling; I can tell by his expression. “Follow me,” he says.
The sun is out when in Ellevil the moon is present. Talk about time difference. The whiplash hits harshly against my head; I feel a little woozy now that I am back on my feet.
“We need to go back to the shade,” he says.
“What’s that?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He face turns serious and he becomes quiet. He looks both ways and pulls me across the street with him.
“Walk faster,” he demands.
“What do you think I’m trying to do? Kind of hard when you’re walking so fast, Donovan.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m so over these mood swings, man. It’s like you love me then you don’t. Make up your mind.”
“I never said the word love.”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes.
We stop at a corner in front of an empty café. There’s a dark path next to us, and it’s sort of like déjà vu. I feel like I remember being here before, but it isn’t coming to me. Donovan steps in front me as I gaze off at the café.
“Don’t let that place pull you in. It was my fault leaving you here.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’ll come to you sooner or later.” Donovan pulls out his broomstick and steps onto the dark path with my hand in his. He gives me my broomstick. He must’ve stolen it from Christian back in Faevil. My weapon burns the crap out of my palm, and I drop it.
“I can’t touch it. Not right now at least. I feel dizzy and my throat is freezing.”
I know this is because my myth is coming back, and she’s coming quickly. I concentrate, picking up my broomstick. There’s still warmth around its metal structure.
“We need to hurry. Keep your eyes open for me.”
We step in front of a dark alley.
Donovan walks into the path as it becomes darker and colder with only our markings guiding us through. It becomes too quiet, and I don’t feel Donovan’s hand against mine anymore. My saliva is thick, and my throat is warm. I look to my right and left. I am searching for something, but what? A breeze passes me, I turn around to brace myself, and pressing the button on my broomstick a purple sword slides out. I hold it up against my face horizontally and proceed to walk backward. The same wind presses against my back, then my left, and then my right. I slice my sword in the air, trying to fight back.
“Pathetic witch…”
I hear manly giggles around me.
“How can you be so oblivious?”
“Show yourself!”
I sense a rock flying in the air, aiming for my face. I duck and it smashes into the wall behind me.
“You’re in the shade. We know your fears. Do you really trust Donovan?”
Another rock is getting ready to fly to me. I tumble to the side, waiting for it to smash into the wall. Vines from the ground rise up to grip my ankles, restraining me from moving.
“He’s evil, like Christian. You can’t trust anyone. You’re afraid,” the man states.
The vines wrap around my thighs and chuck me up into the air. I slice my sword, cutting the vines. I fall to the ground, pressing my broomstick’s button, resizing it to be a longer metal bar. Since I am in the middle of an alley, the ends of the bar scrape against the two walls on my side. It sounds like a person’s sharp nails scraping against a chalkboard. I close my eyes and focus on my witch instinct. I hold onto the bar for a moment, then drop silently on my feet.
The weapon turns back into my broomstick. I catch it in mid-air, already knowing where it would fall.
“The man you’ve seen in your projections is who you fear the most.”
How would this voice know about my astral projection with the corrupt fairy and tall man? That scene would always replay in my head. I am pushed on the ground and a force prevents me from getting up.
***
I land in the field I always fall into. The tall man I’ve seen countless times is standing near the edge of the forest, and soon his corrupt fairy minion floats out of the forest. They both stare at me. Christian walks out of the forest with his hands in his pockets, and goose-bumps develop on my skin. The scene flashes to my house, and I am standing where Miss Canary would be, greeting me whenever I was late to school. The man and the fairy walk up to my house and open the door. Christian glances at my feet and then back up at me. I look down to see that I am in a black lace dress, with my hair now blonde and swept to the side. I see a white cat that looks like Jare run up the stairs and enter into my house.
“Eliza, my wife…join us,” Christian says with a smile.
***
My eyes burst open and I roll to my side. A rock smashes to the ground, narrowly missing my face. I remember what Donovan said about instinct. I get up, walking forward in the darkness.
“Don’t you wonder about your brother?”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
The wind hisses into my ears.
“What about your best friend Dawn? She’s in danger.”
“I’m not afraid of you, because you are not real,” I say without displaying any emotion.
I twist around with my broomstick in my hand and place it in front of my face, pressing its button. The blade slides up vertically between my eyes. I briefly slice the shadow’s neck. He grunts and vanishes.
The darkness disappears immediately, and a force pulls me in to the right. Cold air blows and bright white lights poke my eyes. I am brought into a room with windows and walls every
where. Donovan has his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“I guess you aren’t that much of a rookie now.”
Jared is on one of the counters flipping his tail around, and a lot of new people are around him. I know they’re witches by their silver marks on their bodies. One girl specifically stands out from the rest. She is all in black with short black hair and scattered freckles. Her broomstick is on with a sword formed. She taps the ground with it.
“Donovan, is it her?”
“Only Rose would slice someone’s throat like that.”
“You mean to tell me you guys watched the whole fight this entire time?” I say. “And didn’t bother to help?”
“We didn’t because that was a test,” the girl says.
“A test for what?”
“Corruption.” She walks closer to me.
“Eliza, I’m Alice, and you’re fighting corruption.” This is the woman I saw at the Mystique club, only her hair was longer then.
I know myths are to fight corruption constantly, but everyone in this glass room looks at me like I murdered someone. Even my brother Jared. Every move I take and glance I make is watched carefully. Alice presses the button on her broomstick, turning it off now that she’s sensed a piece of innocence from me, I suppose.
There are four other witches behind her all in black and silver clothing, their markings glowing. It makes me nervous. Donovan avoids eye contact with me.
“I know I’m a myth, but why is everyone looking at me like I killed someone?”
“Because you have, Eliza,” Alice tells me.
That isn’t the type of person I am. Not to mention I barely have the memory of doing so. I can’t take all of the pressure of everyone blaming me for murdering people. I feel like I am being attacked by strangers. I rush between them all, trying to hold back my tears. I find a white room with a black chair and not surrounded by clear windows. It is the perfect place to cry in peace.
I think of the moment I had to kill my mother. She asked me to do it, to save her from corruption. It wasn’t intentional. I could see how blind and evil she became. She wanted to kill me. I push up my knees to my chest and place my head between my arms.
Mythical (The Mystical Series Book 2) Page 26
