"So you actually gave them a gift, along with the curse."
"A gift I've regretted for centuries." He sighs. "For a long time I tried to find another way to curse them, but I knew it might only end up making them stronger. So eventually I went my way and they went theirs. We have a pact, you see, that we stay far away from each other."
"You know, they're terrified of you," I say. "Even now."
He looks pleased. "Are they, now? That's almost enough to make it all worthwhile."
"Can I ask you another question?"
He rubs his thumb over the top of my hand. "Anything."
A little thrill runs up my arm when he does it, and I pull away my hand. "Have you ever thought about ending things? Or can you not die at all?"
"Oh, no, I can die," he says. "And yes, there were times when I considered ending my life. But when it came down to it, I could always think of something else that I wanted to do."
"I think a couple of the Korrigan may have killed themselves at some point," I say. "The others won't talk about it, though."
"There's a soul-price to this kind of unnaturally long existence," he says. "Humans, they talk about immortality, but that isn't what they really want. What they want is real youth, forever— not just youthful looks. I've looked like this for centuries, and I'll keep looking this way until something finally kills me. But I'd give anything to have what you have. True youth and vitality, inside and out."
He's looking at me with such intensity, like he wants to consume me, body and soul. "I long to feel young again. And when I'm with you, I feel— maybe not young, but different. Fresher, newer. Less like an old, old soul shriveling away inside this shell."
I realize that I'm on the edge of my seat, leaning toward him as he leans to me. Our faces aren't far apart. Maybe it's the charm of his voice, but I feel deeply sorry for him. He has been through an enormous amount of pain. No wonder he got twisted up along the way.
"What are you thinking?" His voice is low, husky.
"That you should call me a taxi now," I whisper.
Frustration and disappointment flash across his face, and he launches himself out of the chair to stride the room. "You feel it, too— I know you do. We have a connection."
"Maybe," I say. "Or maybe I'm just a seventeen-year-old girl attracted to a dangerous guy. That doesn't mean it's a good idea."
"So you're attracted to me?"
"Have you seen yourself?"
He grins and winks at me.
"But I'm with Zane," I say. "He's my age, he's real, and sweet, and handsome and smart. And human."
"Exactly! He's human. You two have no future, you know. You're going to live for a very long time, love. Even if it lasts between you, you'll watch him grow old and die in decades, and you'll still look very much like this. I'm sure the Korrigan have explained it to you— the necessity of moving around, changing names, keeping photos off the internet?"
"I know all that. Look, you don't have the right to tell me what to do. I get to choose."
"So do I, love. And when I want something, I'm not used to having people deny me. Or denying myself."
He's looking dangerous again, so I try distracting him with a question.
"Why do we gain the ability to Life-Steal at seventeen?" I ask. "Why not sooner?"
"Oh, you could have done it sooner," he says. "Anytime, really. As soon as you could pronounce the spell and understand how much to take, how much to leave, and all that."
I freeze.
Anytime, really. As soon as you could pronounce the spell and understand...
Anytime...
I could have had days. Could have had them much sooner; could have gone to school, made friends, been like other children. I could have lived like a normal person.
Why, why did the Korrigan not let me?
But even as I ask myself the question, I know the answer. Maeve wanted to keep me in the dark, literally, for as long as possible. Out of sight, under her control. Within her reach, and away from humans. From the connections I might have made. Maybe she did it for what she thought was my own good and the protection of the family; or maybe she was simply being herself— cruel and queenly. Either way, I hate her for it. And I despise the others for going along with it, for lying to me.
The Far Darrig is watching me with those dark-lashed silver eyes. "She said you couldn't Life-Steal till seventeen, didn't she?"
I nod. I can't sit still anymore, so I stand and walk to the window.
"She's what you modern humans call a control freak," he says. "Did you know she killed her own sister?"
"You're lying."
He shakes his head. "It's all in the lore. Maeve left her first husband, Conchobar, because he was cruel to her. Then he married her sister Eithne and got the girl pregnant. So Maeve drowned her in a stream."
I am suddenly angry— furious at him for leaving me outside yesterday, for making me doubt what I feel for Zane, for telling me these horrible things. "This can't be true. I've lived with her all my life— she may be cold and harsh sometimes, but she's not a murderer. You're just telling me the parts of the story that you want me to hear; but I can see through it. You're a trickster, a liar, and a selfish monster, with no regard for humans or their free will."
In that moment, I feel that if I don't get out of there, away from him, I'll start screaming, and probably never stop. "Give me my phone."
"Aislinn—"
"My phone. Now."
His eyes flash with a touch of anger at being commanded, and for a second I wonder if I've gone too far. There's nothing to stop him from touching me, from hurting me, except his word— and I've just accused him of being a liar and a monster.
But he steps to a side table, picks up my phone, and holds it out to me. When I grasp it, he pulls me closer.
"Ask the Korrigan," he says. "Then you'll know."
I snatch the phone and whirl away. As I dash to the elevator, I hear his laugh echoing behind me.
Once I'm in the elevator, I remember that I don't have a wallet. I don't have underwear, my shoes, or anything. Just the blue dress, and my phone— which I now see is out of battery. Is there such a thing as a nighttime walk of shame? If there is, it's probably not a great idea to do it right now, in the dark, on the downtown streets. Especially not in this skimpy dress.
Without wanting to, I think of how the Far Darrig— or his creepy leprechauns— must have gotten me into the dress. It takes no more than half an hour, sometimes less, for me to wake after I revert to my own shape; they would have had to work fast. That's my only comfort. No time to do more than leer a bit. Still. I shiver and shrink against the gleaming black wall of the elevator. I just want to go home.
But home means the Korrigan. The liars.
I can't depend on them any longer. They lied to me, all of them, so many times. If they cared about me, they would have let me Life-Steal sooner— would have spared me some of the pain and darkness that was my life. Why would they do this? I know they don't exactly love me, but I thought we were all connected. A family. Families don't do that to each other— do they?
Of course I wouldn't know. I've never had a real family.
An image of Zane's mother flashes into my mind. His sisters, his father, his life. Suddenly the longing and envy is so strong that I feel it almost as physical hunger pangs, gnawing deep in my gut.
The elevator stops. I'm at the ground floor, and I need to decide what to do.
There's actually a concierge at a desk in the lobby. Upscale place, for sure. The man is probably in his thirties, with a sort of bland, unremarkable face and pale hair. He is already looking at me appraisingly, expectantly— sizing me up.
"Can I help you?" he asks. His cool tones carry an underlying message— Sweetie, you don't belong here. What are you doing and how can I get you to leave?
I decide the best course of action is to stick as close to the truth as possible. Approaching him and lowering my lashes and my voice, I murmur, "I've made some bad cho
ices tonight, and I need to get away from someone. I was hoping I could borrow a phone to call my family, since mine is dead. And is there somewhere else I could wait till they get here?"
He looks uncomfortable, but nods and leads me through a door to a small back room. There are computers, a coffee machine, filing systems, chairs. I sit down, careful to keep my knees together. "Thank you. I'll be fine. Oh wait a minute— what's this building's address?"
He tells me and hands me his phone. "Just lay it on the table when you're done."
As soon as the door closes behind him, I dial the number for the house landline. Thank goodness we still have one. It's the only number I know by heart— I've never learned any of the Korrigans' cell numbers.
Within seconds Maeve answers. "Aislinn."
"I'll explain everything," I say. "But right now I need someone to pick me up."
"Arden will be there soon."
"What? How?"
"Never mind that. We'll talk when you get home."
She disconnects. I didn't even have time to tell her the address.
I set the concierge's phone on the table and stare at my own phone lying dead and dark in my other hand. I thought I would have more time to come up with a passable story. Liars deserve a lie, right? Certainly the truth would get me in more trouble than anything else.
In mere minutes, the concierge is back with Arden. She's tight-lipped, her black bob sharpening the fierce angles of her face. "With me," she says, grabbing my wrist so tightly it hurts. She shoves a twenty at the concierge and drags me out the doors, past a very short woman standing on the steps, down the street to the spot where she parked her car. Arden pushes me inside, slides in herself, and slams the door, shutting out the noises of the night streets.
It's quiet in the car. Too quiet. The silence is heavy, but it's protective, like the lead blanket they draped over me during the X-rays at my first dental appointment last week. When this silence breaks, it's going to mean trouble.
"What happened?" Arden asks.
"I was out in the forest. I lost track of the time, and I didn't make it back before sunrise."
She prims up her lips even tighter. "That was foolish. Dangerous."
"Trust me, I know."
"Do you know if you hurt anyone? Did anyone see you?"
"I'm not sure. I don't think so. You know what it's like— you're buried so deep you don't really know what's going on."
"It's been a long time since I went through it," she says. "But yes, I remember. We've been checking the news all day; I even hacked into the police system to see if there were any reports. It seems you were lucky— no one saw you."
Lucky. That's one word for it.
"What about this?" She gestures to our surroundings, the tall upscale buildings and hotels and shops. "How did you get here?"
"I, um— I ended up near here. When I came to, I found this dress hanging in someone's car; it wasn't locked, so I took it. And I walked around; I was too scared to stop moving, so I just kept going until finally I went into that building and the concierge let me wait while I called you."
"Hmm." Arden stares straight ahead, as a tipsy couple lunges off the sidewalk right in front of our car and wanders unsteadily across the street. "That story won't fly with Maeve. The distances don't make sense."
I close my eyes. "Okay."
"What really happened?"
I don't have a choice. I have to tell the truth— or at least part of it.
"The Far Darrig found me and brought me here."
Her head whips around and she stares. "What?"
"I guess he has some creatures that work for him— leprechauns? They helped him bring me here."
"Why?"
"He just asked me some questions. I didn't give him any answers. Then he let me go."
Even as I say the words, I realize I've forgotten something. My phone. There's no way I would have it with me, if the Far Darrig just accidentally happened to find me naked in the forest after the transformation. My lies aren't making sense. I slide the phone under my thigh and hope she hasn't seen it.
Arden doesn't seem to notice the movement. She's too shocked.
"What did he tell you?" she asks.
"Nothing. Just asked questions about all of you. What kind of jobs you have, what you do all day, how you get your days now— that kind of thing."
"Sounds like idle curiosity," says Arden. "Strange." She chews her bottom lip. "Better not tell Maeve any of this. When it comes to the Far Darrig, she tends to lose her reason."
"But how will we explain this?" I ask. "You said she wouldn't believe my story."
"No, because of where I picked you up," says Arden. "But if we say that I picked you up somewhere else— somewhere closer to home— Just a minute, I have to take care of something."
She leaps out of the car and dashes down the block. I've never in my life seen her run.
When she comes back, she's panting. "There. I bribed the pixie that tracked you. If anyone asks, she'll say she located you in a wooded area not far from our stretch of the forest."
"Pixie? Are you serious?"
"Well, we couldn't use the tracking app for your phone, since you wouldn't have it with you after a transformation. We had to improvise."
"And improvising means using— a pixie? Where?" I twist around in my seat, looking back the way we came.
"The woman we passed on the way out. She's gone now."
I lean back against my seat. "There's a lot you guys haven't told me, isn't there?"
Without answering, she starts the car. "Put on your seatbelt."
When we reach the house, I toss my phone into the bushes by the front steps as we go up to the door. I'll come out later and retrieve it; but for now, it's the best I can do, without any place on my person to hide it.
We tell Maeve the hybrid tale— my story about finding the dress in an empty car, Arden's bit about my location near the woods. I still think it's odd that Arden is so set on hiding the Far Darrig's role in the evening's events. Doesn't Maeve, as their leader, deserve to know about him?
But I don't really want her to know. Some part of me is maliciously delighted to be keeping important secrets from her, as she did from me. And another part of me, a deeper, darker part, enjoys keeping the Far Darrig all to myself.
"It's clear that we need to accomplish a Life-Stealing for you as soon as possible," Maeve says, after we finish the story. "Whether or not you like it," she continues, as I start to protest. "Until that can be managed, Aislinn, you are not to leave this house for any reason. That means not a foot outside the doors unless one of us is with you. And you're to be in the dungeon an hour before each sunrise."
"I understand."
"Let me make myself perfectly clear," she says, her eyes narrowing. "You leave the house, and you will be locked up. Your youth can be forgiven, but your idiocy cannot. I will not have you endangering this family. We've been together for centuries, and a whelp less than two decades old will not be our undoing."
Wordless, I stare at her.
"Don't leave your mouth hanging open like some human idiot," she snaps. "Go to your room. I don't want to see your face again this night."
"What is wrong with you?" I blurt out the words even though I know it's foolish. "You're my freaking grandmother, but you treat me like a prisoner, or a slave."
"Foolish girl, you are treated nothing like a slave. You are given every luxury. You've never known an empty belly. What more do you want?"
"I want to be a part of the family." I'm shaking hard, but I manage to get the words out. "I am your family!"
"Blood isn't family," Maeve says. "Every person who ever shared my blood betrayed me. Your blood, my blood— it means nothing!" Her eyes are fiery blue, she looks taller than ever, and she's practically spitting the words. I shrink back, because I've never seen her this angry. "Family is sharing food and shelter and companionship and fury and pain while human generations pass by. One day you may earn the right to be family. To
me, you're still the weak, wailing babe your parents' lawyer brought to me seventeen years ago."
Dimly I realize that Arden and the others have slunk away into the house, leaving the two of us in the entry hall. Leaving me to face Maeve alone.
Looking at her now, with her fists clenched and her face rigid and her eyes flaming blue, I can picture her as a queen— a terrible one. Maybe even one who could kill her own sister.
"Get out of my sight. And stay in your room until someone comes to get you."
It's an order. As much as I hate it, I need to obey. She needs to think that she's still in control, that I'm still ignorant and weak.
But I promise myself, as I climb the stairs, that one day I'll be free. I'm not living in this family for centuries, bowing to Maeve's every rule. Eventually, I will be my own queen.
14
CRAZY
Zane
I don't know how I make it through the school day. Every time I open a notebook, I see the white, slitted snout and writhing neck of that monster. It's coming out of the electronic board the teacher writes on, staring at me from the floor tiles of the bathroom, crawling along the tops of the lockers.
Maybe I'm going insane.
I sit with Julio and Frank and Mike and Laurel at lunch. They talk about normal stuff, stuff that doesn't seem to matter after what I saw.
If it was even real.
Am I crazy?
And Aislinn— the cruel stuff she said— was that real? Maybe I'm losing my mind. I hope I hallucinated it all.
"Hey, dreamer." Laurel snaps her fingers in front of my face. "You in there?"
"Yeah, what's with you today, bruh?" asks Julio through a bite of lasagna. "You trippin'?"
"Nah, man, just tired." I look at my tray so I don't have to see their faces, looking at me. Wanting answers.
"Everything cool with little Strawberries 'n' Cream?" asks Mike.
"I dunno, man, just some stuff goin' on."
"You guys fight?" asks Laurel. "You need to be careful with her, Zane. I like her. Don't break that poor little girl's heart."
"Are you done with her?" says Frank. "Cause I wouldn't mind stepping in." He smiles, like a shark smelling blood. Rage lurches hot in my chest.
Korrigan (Secrets of the Fae Book 1) Page 13
