Field of Innocence (Euphoria #1)

by Lainy Lane

  Drake wears his normal mostly black attire and his dark hair is slicked back to make sure he can use his opaque violet eyes to his advantage when he comes across women. Gliding in, he turns directly toward Jarreth and heads to his table. He sits next to Jarreth without so much as looking at him.

  “Glyda, the usual,” he demands, “you know my taste, dear.” He adds a smirk to it before he turns back to Jarreth. “So, how did it go?”

  Jarreth hasn’t responded to or even acknowledged Drake’s presence yet when Glyda returns to the table with Drake’s order. The contraption looks like an old apothecary tool; it’s silver and has designs engraved into the sides. It has a small burner at the bottom and a triangle shaped shot glass sits over it. She sets a brown glass jar with a thick liquid and a lighter next to it. Draping her arm around Drake’s shoulder, she leans her body slightly against his.

  “There you are, sweets.” She smiles down at him.

  After he checks to be sure she brought everything he needs, he looks up at her with a daring smile. “Thanks, love,” he says and makes sure to flash his eyes at her.

  Pixies don’t blush, although if they could, she probably would have. Desire flashes through her eyes nonetheless. “Anything else I can do for you?” she asks.

  “Not right now,” he says, and immediately withdraws his attention from her and turns to the things in front of him.

  Jarreth gulps down his drink quickly and hands the glass to Glyda. “Lust,” he says and motions for her to leave.

  “Two in one visit?” Drake asks curiously.

  “This will be five actually!” Glyda says before she slips away.

  Jarreth rolls his eyes at her, not that she would care even if she had actually seen him do it. “It went fine, Drake. It’s done, and I’m sure that her interest is piqued.” He looks at the things sitting in front of Drake. “So you’re still on that stuff?” he asks in an attempt to change the subject.

  “Always,” Drake says simply.

  Drake takes the bottle of liquid and fills the glass with the thick, dark red fluid. He lights the burner at the bottom. The flame is blue and then flashes purple. The liquid starts to bubble slightly and Drake quickly turns the burner off and blows on the contents twice before he picks the glass up and gulps it down quickly. He leaves his head turned upwards and his eyes closed, holding it in his mouth to enjoy it thoroughly before he swallows. He then returns the glass back to the contraption and starts the motions over again.

  “You should try it, Jarreth, I promise you wouldn’t regret it,” he says as he fixes himself another.

  Jarreth simply nods as Glyda brings his next shot over and leaves it on the table without saying a word to either of them.

  “Still stuck on your small cups of sugar and spice and all that nonsense I see. Having a bit of trouble today since we’re already up to five,” Drake says as he takes his next shot. “Obviously you didn’t do everything you should’ve while you were there or you wouldn’t need five.” Drake glares at him. “Or is it that this girl doesn’t have any emotions?” Drake asks and he is suddenly intrigued.

  “No, she definitely has them. I just didn’t see a need in feeding off the girl. I calmed her at one point, but didn’t take anything for my own use.” Jarreth takes in his latest shot and concludes that the emptiness simply isn’t going to be filled, though he’s still unsure of why.

  “Oh, Jarreth, if you didn’t have so many dang emotions, you just might be able to function properly,” Drake says as he works on another shot. “I can lend you some of this if you’d like, it’s much more substantial you know.”

  “I function just fine, Drake. I did what I was supposed to, she should be here in the next day or so.”

  “Should … as in you’re not sure? You didn’t intrigue her enough because you didn’t feed did you? Do I need to ensure that she gets here myself?” Drake asks and rage fills his voice.

  “Look!” Jarreth says defensively as he holds up his glass once more. “We knew this would be complicated as she’s already tied to a human. Her feelings there are deeper than we anticipated, Drake. I did what I could, feeding wouldn’t have changed anything. Her dad has been hiding everything from her, though, so hopefully that will give her enough of a draw to come find out for herself.”

  Drake takes his shot as Glyda comes back for Jarreth’s shot glass. “What now?” she asks.

  “I don’t care, anything,” he says, and the anger from the situation with Drake laces his words.

  “Glyda, you may take this, I am done,” Drake says as he runs his arm over hers. Glyda gladly takes the contraption and heads back over to the bar.

  “I trust that you can entice her just fine, Jarreth. I know what you are, even if you don’t want to admit it. You’re perfectly capable of doing what needs to be done no matter how tied she is to some human. Although, I do believe I know a way to help her decide to come.” Drake smiles mischievously.

  “You know she has to come through the ring alone, without any assistance, that’s the only way we’ll know for sure.” Jarreth rolls his eyes at Drake’s usual smugness.

  “I’m sure she will be marked upon her arrival or shortly after, and we’ll know one way or another. Either way, my plan doesn’t consist of assisting in her entrance, just giving her more motivation to come.” Drake smirks again.

  “Leave her alone, Drake!” Jarreth stands defensively in front of him.

  “Oh I will, Jarreth. Do your thing, and I’ll leave her alone, just like I did Echo.” Drake glares directly at Jarreth with that comment, and his eyes flash black momentarily before they return to their normal opaque violet.

  Glyda returns and puts a shot of bright pink liquid in front of Jarreth before she turns to Drake and leans into him. “Now what else can I get for you, sir?” she asks, placing a finger on his chin to make him look down at her.

  “Yes, I do believe I need one other thing, come to think of it.” Drake smirks. “How about we get ourselves out of this bar? You don’t mind, right, Jare?” Drake looks back up at Jarreth as he wraps an arm around Glyda and pulls her closer to him.

  Jarreth takes his shot and slams the glass back down on the table. It shatters from the force. “No, do whatever you want, Drake. I have my own matters to attend to,” he says as he turns away.

  “As do I,” Drake calls after him before he leans down and starts to kiss Glyda. “One minute, dear,” he says as he pulls away. “How about you go get ready to leave and give me one moment to do something.”

  “Gladly!” She walks away, and her hips sway even more than usual as she does.

  Drake puts a hand on his temple. “Tristan,” he says as he closes his eyes and mouths a few more words. A wicked smile comes over his face and he moves his hand back to his side before he disappears behind the bar.

  Chapter Seven

  Control

  The conversation had taken many twists and turns. Calandra and Tristan had discussed her father, Tristan’s parents, what they would do after high school, and even touched a bit on religion and beliefs. Calandra had a need for distraction, though she refuses to admit to herself that she may be procrastinating. There’s something physically keeping her from searching for the answers, which means she can’t really be to blame. Tristan was the one to start the conversation anyways. She was just taking it upon herself to be sure it doesn’t end until she’s ready. Plus, it would be rude for her to ignore him. The vulnerability of being here, the fact she knows she needs to look for something that she isn’t even sure she wants to exist or not, it all leaves her feeling raw and Tristan, as always, takes the edge off of that feeling.

  She rolls over to her side and faces him. Placing her head into his chest, she clings tightly to him as he caresses her hair. The sun beats down on them, and the soft buzz of the dragonflies still fills the air, which only intensifies Calandra’s anxiety and her need for a distraction.

  Tristan doesn’t believe any of the things that Calandra had explained she experienced earlie
r; he thinks it was another one of her daydreams that seemed like more to her because she had been so emotional before it happened. Of course he would never actually tell her that he doesn’t buy into the possibility of it being real, though. Tristan isn’t the kind of person to just squash down anyone’s beliefs or feelings, even if he is completely sure they are wrong. He’s a sensitive person, and always finds a roundabout way to get to the point, a way that keeps anyone from getting their feelings hurt. He had been nothing but a quiet support since she had explained her feelings about the experience to him.

  Calandra breathes in Tristan’s scent and wraps her arms around him tighter. All of a sudden, Tristan somewhat forcefully rolls over to be on top of her, pulls himself up, and veers over her. The shock of Tristan’s sudden change in attentiveness sends a tinge of nervousness through Calandra. She looks up at him to question his motive. His eyes stare straight through her. They are their normal shade of baby blue, which usually intoxicates her, but there’s something different about them now. They aren’t as soft and knowing as they usually are; the safety they usually convey is gone. They are hollow as they stare down at her, and his face is blank.

  “Tristan?” she whispers as she reaches up and touches his cheek.

  He doesn’t respond in any way, he simply gazes blankly at her. There are no emotions on his face at all.

  “Tristan?” Calandra runs her hand up the side of his face and through his hair as she tries to steady her breathing.

  Tristan slowly rolls off of her and sits straight up. He stares off into the trees now, in the direction she has been purposely avoiding. His face is still expressionless, his eyes are still not fully there. He doesn’t acknowledge that she’s even here. He seems to be unaware of anything at all; he’s focused on something off in the distance. Calandra begins to wonder if he is even there. She has never seen him act like this before, like a zombie.

  He slowly stands, taking longer than he should need to steady himself. He stands still—he doesn’t even appear to be breathing—and he continues to stare at the spot. Calandra stands up next to him, unsure of what she can do to help him. She reaches out to take his hand, but before she makes contact, he walks off toward the woods.

  “Tristan, seriously, what is going on? Where are you going?” she asks. A mixture of worry and frustration fills her as she follows after him.

  He walks slower than usual and without his normal stance. He stands too straight and is carefully thinking through every movement he makes, as if it is somehow forced. The dragonflies start to fly frantically around her and buzz louder than ever. One lands on her shoulder, and Calandra gasps when she realizes it looks identical to the one that was here when she met Jarreth earlier. The dragonfly perches on her shoulder, angled toward her. She shakes her head to refocus and walks on to follow Tristan.

  Her heartbeat grows faster and harder; she knows where he is going and everything appears all too familiar for comfort. She has to look behind her to see the creek, in the cloud of her thoughts that fill her as she frantically follows a zombie-like Tristan, she somehow has no recollection of walking through the creek, or getting here at all. She sees the vine wall and she doesn’t need to walk through it to know what will be on the other side of it.

  “Tristan, please just stop already!” she calls desperately after him, but to no avail.

  Her breathing grows more unsteady when she sees Tristan disappear through the vines. She doesn’t want to go through them. She isn’t ready to see what lies behind it, to see that it is real. The thought of seeing that everything Jarreth told her is true brings the rawness back to her chest. She can’t fathom a reason as to why Tristan has gone there, or how he even knew where to go. She didn’t tell him anything about the location of the spot other than the general direction. Yet somehow, he had purposely walked straight to it. She takes a deep breath, looks down at the dragonfly that is still perched ever so faithfully on her shoulder, pulls the vines aside, and walks through the opening.

  The buzz from the friend on her shoulder stops instantly. In fact, there’s no noise at all. Everything seems so different and feels totally empty here without Jarreth, but it looks just the same. There’s something about being here that sends a sudden peace through her. She looks around, and that peace and serenity disappears when she sees where Tristan is going. He’s walking straight toward the ring of mushrooms and flowers, the ring that is the portal into Faerie.

  “Tristan!” she yells louder than she means to, and instantly realizes it feels wrong in the beauty of this place.

  Calandra closes the gap between them and takes his arm to stop him. He turns on his heels to face her, but there is no recognition. His eyes and face are still just as blank as they have been since the moment he stood up from the spot in her sanctuary. His cheeks appear to be sunken in.

  “Just let him go.” Tristan’s mouth moves and his voice comes out, but the words aren’t his.

  “Him? Him who, Tristan? What is going on with you?” Calandra asks frantically.

  Without another word, Tristan yanks his arm from her and walks straight into the ring. The moment he crosses over the ring of flowers, he is suddenly back to himself. His eyes fill with warmth and brightness again, his face finally shows recognition, but those things quickly fade into fear and confusion.

  “Cal! Cal!” he calls from the circle and tries to walk back toward her. Before he completes a full step, the glow that Calandra still wanted to believe was an odd reflection from the sun expands and lifts over him. With a flash, it is gone … and so is Tristan.

  Calandra screams and collapses onto the ground. The dragonfly continues to rest motionless on her shoulder. Jarreth’s words go through her mind, no mortal is supposed to be able to go into Faerie without being accompanied by a faerie. So how had Tristan just crossed over?

  “Was it because of me?” she asks, even though the dragonfly is her only company. “I didn’t actually accompany him, though. I was right here, unable to help him. He didn’t even want to go … so why did he?” The dragonfly buzzes. Calandra wonders if she had really expected some kind of a response out of it. Somehow the noise is enough to soothe her momentarily and allow her clouded mind to clear slightly. “I have to go get him,” she tells the dragonfly. It takes her a moment to gain the confidence to do what she knows she has to. “If I’m really part Fae then I’ll be able to go, the same way I somehow sent Tristan there.”

  The reality suddenly hits her hard; she feels it slam into her chest. Being part Fae is already causing problems and she only found out this morning through what she now wishes had actually been just a vivid daydream. Her thoughts start to flood through her, and they mix with the questions that her subconscious tries to find answers for. The buzz on her shoulder reminds her that she isn’t helping Tristan in any way by sitting here wasting time. She stands and takes a deep breath before she walks toward the ring.

  Just before she crosses over the line of flowers, the dragonfly flies away. The glowing ring expands and lifts above her. Her head swims around and she suddenly sees a flash of lavender. Her feet leave the ground momentarily and she is falling into something. Her feet land on hard ground again, but it is still dark, or her mind is at least. She closes her eyes to try and focus herself. When she opens them again, she realizes she’s in a field that looks almost identical to the one she just left, only this one is much larger. She focuses further and realizes the lavender flash she had seen was actually a set of eyes that are now coming toward her.

  A tall, lanky man walks toward her, glides really more than walks. His every move seems like a piece of perfection. He wears mostly black clothes; black pants that are tighter than they probably need to be, and a white shirt that is mostly hidden by the black trench coat that hangs over him. His hair matches his coat and lies messily around his face. His eyes stand out against all the dark that surrounds him, they are bright and match Jarreth’s in opaqueness. However, there is a big difference between his eyes and Jarreth’s. When Jarret
h had looked at her, she felt some sort of peace and comfort. Gazing into this man’s eyes, she feels an odd mixture of fear and temptation.

  “Calandra,” he says. His voice is deep and intimidating.

  “Where is Tristan?” she asks. She is far too worried to care how he knows her name exactly.

  “That’s your first question, my dear?” he asks nonchalantly.

  “Yes, of course,” she replies simply.

  He closes the gap between them faster than he should be able to. His eyes don’t leave hers as he walks, and he never falters in any way.

  “Shouldn’t your first question be about this?” Placing his hand over her left shoulder, he gently cups it and slowly runs his hand across it. His touch sends chills through her, but not the good kind like Jarreth’s had.

  Calandra gasps once his hand is gone and she sees the dragonfly. It isn’t a real dragonfly perched on her shoulder like she has been becoming somewhat accustomed to of late. This is a mark, some sort of a tattoo that has never been there before. It’s stunning. It sits at an angle, its head faces toward her. Its wings are a breathtaking mixture of pinks and purples. On the left wing is a swirl of a beautiful baby blue through the center, and on the right wing, a matching swirl of lavender. Its eyes are a breathtaking shade of turquoise and it’s body a bold shade of burgundy. It appears to be three dimensional, as if there was actually a dragonfly perched on her shoulder looking at her, watching over her, much like the dragonflies have done in her last few visits to the woods.