by Leia Shaw
Either way, the dread of the upcoming days weighed heavily on her. She rolled over, curling her body inward, putting her back to Marcelo.
He sighed impatiently beside her. “Aila.” When she ignored him he grabbed her shoulder and gave a firm shake. “Aila, turn around. We need to talk.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?” she muttered into the pillow.
“Because that is your true name.”
Maybe he drank too much too.
“That’s what we need to talk about. Do you remember anything about last night?”
“Go away,” she grumbled. God, can’t he give me a few more minutes?
He sighed and shifted on the bed. Suddenly the blanket was yanked from her grasp and she was forcibly rolled off the bed. Before she landed sprawled on her ass like she thought she would, she ducked into a reflexive crouch catching herself on the balls of her feet. She analyzed her position. Strange. She’d never been particularly coordinated before. She looked up to see Marcelo watching her, a flare of curiosity in his eyes. He wore a black fitted t-shirt that looked damn good stretched over his bulky shoulders. A loose pair of denim jeans hung on his waist. He looked as tasty as ever.
Raven brows arched in his condescending way. “Ready to talk now, hadita?”
Rising from the floor, she felt a strange sort of power within her. She shook her head, confused. “I feel…different,” she admitted. “And what did you just call me?”
“Hadita. Little faerie.” Marcelo stood with his arms crossed and his chin resting on his knuckles. “And you should feel different. You changed species last night.”
“What?”
“You are no longer human, Aila. You are fae.”
She laughed out loud, but it sounded humorless even to her. “So someone drugged your drink too?” She reached down to pick up the blanket on the floor. “That’s just great. We should both just go back to –”
“Erin,” he called. “Catch.”
Without giving her time to refuse, a glass vase – the same one she’d thrown at him – soared at an incredible speed towards her head. Almost with a mind of its own, her arm moved in just enough time to catch it before it cracked against her skull. She stared down at the vase, eyes wide with shock.
“How did I do that?”
“Like I said, you’re fae.” He sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him. “Now sit down so I can tell you what that means.”
Nodding dumbly she sat beside him.
“Last night was your twenty first birthday, correct?”
She nodded again.
After taking a deep breath, he explained, “You are fae – a supernatural being like me. I did some research last night to find out who you are. You are called ‘Aila the Foretold’. There was a spell cast that kept your fae features hidden until your twenty first birthday. Your mother placed you in the care of a witch to keep you safe because of a…prophecy.” He paused at her confused expression. “We’ll get to that part later. But the witch died unexpectedly, you entered foster care, and the fae lost track of you.” More to himself he muttered, “Somehow the sorcerers found you. They must have a powerful oracle working for them.”
Erin put her hands up to stop him. “Okay. Not that I believe any of this, but what the hell is a fae?”
“A…faerie of sorts.”
“Like Tinkerbell?”
“Who?”
She raised her brows in surprise. “Tinkerbell. Peter Pan.”
He stared blankly.
“Off to Never Never Land.” She raised a hand in a flying motion. “You can flyyyy…” She trailed when his forehead crinkled in confusion. “Never mind. So, these faeries…can they fly?” She put a hand up before he could answer. “Not that I believe any of this.”
“No, they can’t fly. But they have many other gifts.” Then he grumbled as he scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “Ones I am going to have to teach you, I suppose.” He looked exhausted, like he wished he could dump her with some other sucker and walk away from this complicated mess. He probably should.
Marcelo turned to face her and continued, “The fae came into existence in the tenth century. Some of the animal spirits wanted to be human, so they bribed a voodoo priest to give them human-like bodies. That is how the dark fae were created.”
“Dark fae?”
“The Unseelie court.”
She shook her head, even more confused.
“We’ll get to that part later as well. The Unseelie kingdom is in Ireland. Aila means ‘from a strong place.’” He smiled proudly at her, as if that should mean something. But she was too stunned to process any of it.
“You were able to catch that vase, Aila, because you have natural animal instincts. The fae have keener vision – you will find you can see in the dark. As well as better hearing. You’re more agile and have better reflexes. Stronger and faster too.”
She shook her head, more forcefully this time, as if the motion would dislodge all of this from her brain. This is stupid. Some kind of joke from Sage. She would totally do something like this.
“Deny all you want, hadita, but you can’t change what you are.”
“Stop calling me that!” she snapped. “I’m not…a…” She trailed off when she saw her fingernails. They were…claws? She brought them to her line of vision. Her nails had always been brittle, short. Now they were long and pointy.
Marcelo chuckled beside her. Instinctively she swung at him then gasped at her shocking behavior. He dodged her and laughed out loud at her attempt to harm him.
“You see? You even have a fae temper,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes with an icy glare. “What did you do to me?”
His lips formed a grim line as he stood, his patience clearly diminishing. He grabbed her by the arm, pulled her into the bathroom, and spun her around to face her reflection in the mirror.
Her lips parted. Staring back at her was her face, framed by her still loosely curled long hair, but there was something different about her. She stepped closer.
Marcelo sighed then grabbed her hair and pulled it back behind her ears.
Her ears!
“Oh my God!” she gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth. Leaning in towards the mirror she gave them a closer inspection. They were longer and the slightest bit pointed at the top. “I look like a Christmas elf!” Her voice trembled.
Then she noticed her teeth. No, fangs! Her eyes watered and her hands shook as she covered her gaping mouth again. When she squeezed her eyes shut and hoped this was all a dream, the tears spilled over soaking her cheeks and hands.
Before she could run away in humiliation, she was pulled into a warm chest, enfolded in Marcelo’s arms. He rubbed one hand up and down her back, soothing her. The other hand covered her head as he wiped the tears with a thumb as they fell. She wanted to push him away – being comforted by a vampire about turning into a freak seemed counterintuitive – but she couldn’t find the strength. She needed someone to hold her just then. Plus he was warm and strong and smelled so damn good.
“It’s only noticeable to you, querida,” he said. “Trust me. No one else will think anything of it, especially if you wear your hair down.”
His shirt was soaked with tears and she stepped back, disappointed in herself for showing such weakness. Marcelo seemed hesitant to let her go, but he did.
She wiped the wetness from her cheeks and put on a brave face. “So, what does this mean? I’m like Sage? And you? Am I going to live forever too? Why do the sorcerers want me? Who are my par –”
“Whoa. Slow down. I’ll explain everything.”
She couldn’t slow down. The questions overwhelmed her until her heart raced. Her chest tightened in that familiar way. Oh no! Not only did she cry but now she was going to hyperventilate too. Before she could drag the first constricted breath into her lungs, Marcelo stopped her with a hand firmly cupping her chin.
“Cosita, relax.” He forced her head up so she would look him in the eye
. “You are still you. The beautiful, sweet, caring girl I met two days ago. You will get through this –”
She knocked his hand away from her face with a scowl. “How can you say that? You –”
Before she could finish her irritated thought, Marcelo had grabbed her again. His thumb stroked her cheek as he spoke with confidence. “I can say that because I know it. You forget that I was human once too. I also saw your sister change. I was with her through it all.”
What? “Change? What do you –” Her eyes widened as she pulled away from Marcelo’s grip. “She’s…she’s…”
“A vampire. Yes. Not a full vampire. She doesn’t drink blood. But she had to change in order to kill her father.”
“Her father? What the hell happened? And why didn’t she tell me any of this?”
Marcelo sighed. “I assume she was trying to protect you. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize –”
Huffing in a breath she stuck a finger into his brawny chest. “You are going to tell me the whole story! Everything. Or I’ll…I’ll…” She couldn’t think of a threat violent enough for the situation.
Marcelo chuckled, grasped the finger still pointed at his chest, and placed her hand at her side. “Calm down. I will tell you everything. But first, food and supplies. I could hear your stomach grumbling from across the room and we’ll need supplies for our trip.”
“No. I want answers now!” Where was this temper coming from? Was it truly a fae trait? She’d never been so direct.
“Aila,” he said in gentle warning, “you have many questions but we don’t have time to sit here all day. I can answer you just as easily while we gather supplies. And you will focus better once you have food in your stomach.”
Maybe he was right. They had a long flight and then at least two days of hiking. Plenty of time for – Wait a minute! A disturbing thought crossed her mind. “The fae…they don’t…they don’t…drink blood?”
A loud, husky laugh erupted. “No, querida. You won’t need blood. That part of you has not changed.”
She exhaled a relieved breath. “Good. ‘Cause I’m a vegetarian.”
“A what?”
“A vegetarian. I don’t eat meat.”
Marcelo shook his head slowly. “Has anyone ever told you, you are a high maintenance woman?”
She dropped her head and mumbled, “Only everybody.”
He smiled once then wrapped a big arm around her shoulders. “Come on then. Let’s find you some carrots.”
She scowled up at him. “I said a vegetarian, not a bunny.”
Chapter 6
With an arrogance only an eight hundred year old vampire could possess, Marcelo took the car keys from Erin’s pocket and led the way to the parking lot.
“Where are we going?” she asked as they walked through the hotel hallway.
“To America’s favorite money spending destination.”
“Disney World?”
He shook his head. “The mall.”
And the day keeps getting better and better. When they reached the lobby she came to a halt. People hustled about on cell phones, carrying briefcases and luggage, the doors opened and closed as patrons filed in. Some sat and chatted, drinking coffee and relaxing, bellboys pushed carts of suitcases. It was crowded and there was no clear path to the door. The mid-morning light streamed through the large windows.
“Marcelo,” she whispered, huddling close to his body. “It’s daytime.”
“Yes.” He placed a hand on her lower back and gave her a push towards the lobby.
She dug in her heels. “Won’t you explode or something?”
“I’ve already taken the elixir.”
Her feet glided across the carpet under his strength but she leaned back against him to slow down. “You got the potion from the witch last night?”
“Yes.” He bent down close to her ear and whispered, “Come, hadita, it’s only a few steps to the door.” He gave her a push that she couldn’t resist. With shaky breaths she let him guide her through the crowd and out the door.
She inhaled a deep breath of the humid air, feeling at once relieved though the air was thick with city pollution. When they reached the car Marcelo slid into the driver’s seat.
Erin rolled her eyes. “Even with my new and improved reflexes you still insist on driving?”
He grinned and started the engine. “Yes, but not because you are incapable this time.”
“Then why?”
“Because I spent the last two centuries in the Underworld. I don’t get the opportunity to drive very often. Indulge me.”
“Underworld?”
“An alternate plane. Like this one only it’s half way to hell so it’s a bit hotter. And a bit more…dead.” At her disgusted expression he muttered, “Might as well get this over with.”
He took a deep breath and Erin knew she wouldn’t like what she was about to hear.
“Your sister is the Queen of the Underworld. She defeated her father, who was a sorcerer turned vampire and previously the King and took his throne. I made her drink blood which activated her vampire traits so she could kill him. She is now a sorceress, a witch, and a…sort of vampire. I believe she calls herself a ‘vwitcheress’. Anyway, the Colorado Rockies contains a doorway to the Underworld where we will be meeting Sage in a few days.”
Erin looked at him with a blank expression before busting out with an exaggerated laugh.
He scowled at her. “Why are you laughing?”
She shook her head, cutting off the last of her chuckles. “I think you’ve been watching too many Len Wiseman movies. There’s already a series of movies called Underworld, clueless. You’re just stealing stuff already taken. And the part about Sage killing her father? Helloooo…Star Wars called and they want their movie plot back. Can’t you come up with something more original than that?”
Marcelo’s eyes narrowed as his lips pursed in irritation. He grabbed her phone from his pocket and shoved it towards her. “Text your sister.”
Erin took the phone with a shrug. She texted Sage, asking if she was a real life version of a Twilight Zone episode. Erin was shocked, and a bit dismayed, when she confirmed every word, down to the Star Wars ending rip off.
“Sorry. Wish I could have told u myself. Now get your skinny butt over here! I have wicked awesome tricks to show you!”
She sighed and slipped the phone into her pocket. Marcelo watched her but didn’t demand the phone back.
“Now do you believe me?” he asked.
She nodded. If Sage confirmed it, then Erin believed it – unless this was all one big hoax. If so, there was going to be hell to pay. The phrase “mind fuck” seemed appropriate. It was crude and not to her taste but perhaps everything about her was changing. Resolving not to think about it too much – lest her head explode – she studied her new claws instead.
“So, if you’ve lived in the Underworld so long,” Erin asked, “how did you learn to drive?”
He shrugged. “Not much to it.”
Not much to it? It had taken Erin six months to be comfortable behind the wheel. Did everything come easily to vampires? How annoying.
“Explain this prophecy you mentioned. And what’s the part about the witch? And who are the dark fae? Is that like ‘give yourself to the dark side Luke’?” she said in her best Darth Vader voice. Jimmy was good with impressions. According to Marcelo’s puzzled expression, Aila was not. “I guess vampires don’t watch movies.”
“Underworld, querida, remember? There are no movies there.”
“So vampires don’t have movie nights with popcorn and cozy pajamas?”
“Sure we do. Right after we braid each other’s hair and read gossip magazines.”
She swung her head to give him a dry look. “Ha, ha. The big, bad vampire made a funny.”
“Big, bad vampire?” he repeated with dark brows raised. “I should throw you in the mall fountain for that. Teach you some manners in dealing with big, bad vampires.”
She smil
ed only because she knew he was bluffing. “So what do you do for entertainment? Kill things?”
“Don’t ask questions you don’t – ”
“Oh, never mind!” It was quiet for a few minutes as she wondered how Marcelo knew his way around the city without a GPS, or at least a map. “So, you never came…up here – ”
“Topside.”
“Right. You haven’t been Topside in two hundred years?”
“I have. To feed. But not to go to movies.”
She cringed at the word “feed” and tried not to visualize it. “Well, you’re missing out.” She sat up straighter in her seat, her mood temporarily improved. “I’m a big movie buff. I can quote all kinds of movies from The Little Mermaid to Die Hard to Lord of the Rings to The Notebook. I’m very eclectic.”
He cocked an eyebrow but his lips curled in amusement. “I have no idea what you just said but I’m happy to hear more just to see your beautiful smile.”
She couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her face even though she should have. Flattering comments were dangerous, especially when she had a boyfriend. The word “mate” hung thick in her head. Jimmy was a good boyfriend. Mate though? For life?
“Am I immortal, Marcelo?”
He sat in silence long enough for her to discern the answer. “Yes, querida, you are.”
“Why do you keep calling me that? And the other one too…cosina?”
“Cosita,” he corrected. “That means ‘little one’. Querida means ‘dear’. Terms of endearment, nothing more.”
“Oh.” She’d recognized querida from her beginner Spanish class. “Well, you probably shouldn’t say them anymore. My boyfriend wouldn’t like it.”
There was a hint of regret in his eyes when he looked at her. “How will you go back to your boyfriend, Aila?”
She shrugged. It hadn’t even been an hour since she’d found out she wasn’t actually human. It wasn’t like she had time to think beyond that. Anyway, she didn’t want a reality check at the moment. It was making her grumpy. What she wanted to do was to put her hands over her ears and yell “la la la” until it all faded away. What she wouldn’t give for a drink right about now.
