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By Vivi Anna
Copyright 2011 Vivi Anna This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portion thereof, is any form. This ebook may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others.
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Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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The doors from the ambulance bay burst open and two EMTs rolled in a stretcher, a woman badly bleeding lay strapped to the gurney.
I was there waiting for them, immediately checking vitals. "What have we got?"
"Werewolf attack," one of the EMTs announced, "She was found near the water wall in Stanley Park."
I gaped at him. "Are you sure it was a werewolf attack"
We rolled the patient down the corridor toward the trauma rooms. Only one was available as we'd just received two criticals from a motor vehicle accident.
Other nurses and doctors brushed past us, shouting out orders to each other. Patients in wheelchairs and gurneys lined the walls waiting for their turn at treatment. The night was a busy one. Must've been a full moon or something.
"Gut ripped open. Claw marks on both arms and legs. Don't know of anything else that could do that."
I didn't either, at least not in the city. But I hated that since the werewolves came out of the closet, so to speak, a couple of years ago, there had been a tendency to point a finger any time someone was apparently attacked by an animal. Working as a RN for the past six years in the downtown Vancouver hospital emergency, I'd seen a lot of awful and strange stuff. This was the first werewolf attack I'd encountered. If it truly was one.
We wheeled her into the only empty trauma room.
"On three," I said, as we rolled her up to the bed to transfer her over from their gurney. "One, two, three." The team picked her up and set her onto the table.
Once I had control, the two EMTs left, taking their stretcher probably to head off to another call.
They had already inserted an IV in her arm so I changed the fluid bag and hooked her up to the monitors. Her blood pressure was low, and her heart rate erratic. By the looks of her wounds, and the blood soaking through the gauze holding her stomach together, she was in really bad shape.
I checked her arms and saw long jagged rivets in her flesh. The marks did indeed look like claw marks. Her legs looked the same. I peeled back the blood-soaked gauze a bit to see how bad the primary wound was. I saw a mass of red and purple and smelled the putrid stench of open bowels, her intestines had been shredded. Oh damn. My gut churned over in response. I slapped two more abdominal gauze pads on her belly, adding more pressure.
"Hey, can I get a hand in here?" I yelled. The doc was on her way, but she needed to hurry her ass up.
Another nurse, Heather, burst through the door, rushing to help. She came up to the side of the bed and helped me press on the bleeding wound.
The doctor rolled in, her face stoic, her manner all business. She snapped on some latex gloves and approached the gurney. The patient was lucky tonight was Dr. Diana Cole's night on rotation. She was the best trauma specialist on staff.
"Nina, tell me something," she said as she prepared to peek under the bloody dressing.
"BP is dropping. Eighty over fifty. Heart rate is erratic. Blood ox level is ninety and on its way down."
Diana peeled back the bandages.
For the first time in six years of working emergency, I wanted to puke. The woman's gut had been torn open, not cut like with a knife; I'd seen that plenty, but ripped and torn every which way with something jagged. Looking at the extent of the injury, I knew she didn't have a chance.
I looked up into Diana's face and saw the same grim look in her eyes.
"We need bags of O neg, stat. Let's get some blood back into her."
Heather and I stuck IVs in her other hand and in her feet to get in the blood, but it was too late. Diana attempted to stitch up her insides, but her blood pressure dropped hard. We were losing her. The machines beeped like crazy, Diana worked on the woman's heart but her efforts weren't enough. The woman flatlined with a long drawn out beep which never failed to make my throat tighten with emotion. We got out the paddles and zapped her several times, but she never even regained consciousness, thank goodness.
Diana looked at her watch. "I'm calling it at eleven twenty p.m."
Heather wrote it down on the patient's chart.
I turned and pressed the off button on the machine, then looked back to Diana.
She nodded to me, then peeling off her gloves, she left the trauma room.
I nodded to the other nurses. "Clean her up." Then stripping off my own gloves, I followed the doctor.
I wanted to catch up with her and get her take on the wounds, but before I could, I was ambushed by two police officers. Unfortunately, I knew them both. Officers Coates and Stettler of the Supernatural Event Monitoring Agency---SEMA. Or as I liked to call them Tweedle Dum and Tweedle if-you-grab-my-ass-one-more-time-I'm-going-to-snap-your-wrist.
The agency had been formed by the Canadian government in response to the werewolves declaring themselves and coming out into the open. But from what I'd seen of them, they were all just a bunch of prejudiced bastards, just waiting to shoot a silver bullet into someone thick and hairy.
"We heard there's a werewolf attack vic in there," Officer Coates said.
"Can we talk to her?" Stettler asked.
"She's dead so, no, I don't think so."
Stettler cursed. "We were hoping for an eye witness. Catch one of these bastards red handed or red clawed." He made a claw shape with his fingers and swiped them at me.
If he had come any closer to my face, I would've grabbed his hand and twisted it off.
"What about all those coyote attacks I've been hearing about? Maybe it was a coyote."
"I knew it was just a matter of time before one of them did something like this. They should all be locked up in a zoo if you ask me," Coates said.
He conveniently ignored my comment. "Well, thank the Lord, no one is asking you, asshole." I brushed past him.
"What's up your ass, Decker?" Stettler smirked.
I didn't dignify that with an answer and continued to make my way down the corridor away from the trauma room and from ignorant jerks. But I didn't get far before I heard Coates remark.
"Maybe she's got the hots for that head wolf guy, Saint Morgan. Even my sister thinks he's good looking."
"That's just sick. Like bestiality."
I pushed through the door to the nurse's staff room and blocked out the rest of their conversation. I found my locker and leaned my forehead against the cool metal breathing deep
I didn't normally let these things get to me, but I'd been feeling on edge for a while. Ever since werewolves came out, stood up and declared themselves real and here to stay, to be exact. I knew it was just the beginning.
Most people had no real clue what was out there lurking in the shadows. Lurking inside people. If any of them truly knew what lay in wait inside of me, they'd run the other way. Or turn around and shoot me between the eyes. Except I didn't think silver would work on me.
I had a secret. The kind of secret that ruined lives. I would never reveal it because I'd seen how prejudiced people were. How ignorant and cruel they could be. And I valued my job. I liked helping people, and I knew I could lose it all.
I was, shall we say, a reluctant member of the supernatural community. Half human and half fae, I was just the type of creature that people like Officer Coates and Officer Stettler, and thousands of others in this city, loved to hate, and I wasn't about to come out of the closet any time soon. I liked my job and my life too much to destroy them with an act of conscience.
The door to the room opened and I straightened as Diana came in. The heels of her rubber-soled shoes squeaked on the linoleum floor as she approached me.
"Something you want to talk about?"
We weren't friends exactly but we had a sort of symbiotic sympathetic relationship. We were there to lean on, if needed.
I shook my head and opened my locker, to grab a bottle of Advil as if that had been the reason I came in here in the first place. I opened the top, shook out three and popped them into my mouth dry swallowing them down. The pills weren't actually Advil but herbs. I didn't use normal medicines. My metabolism was different and I reacted strangely to human-made medications.
"You looked like you were about to puke back there. You haven't been a rookie for years.
"Caught me by surprise, that's all."
"And the fact that those two imbeciles are imbeciles caught you off guard too?" She lifted one dark bushy eyebrow.
"No. I just hate hearing all that crap."
"We both know if it's not werewolves they're hating, it would be Sikhs, or Chinese or whatever race was currently in the news. They are both ignorant rednecks."
"I know. I'm just tired and cranky. It's been a long shift."
She glanced at her watch. "Almost over, isn't it?"
I nodded.
"Then go home. You've been looking really pale lately."
I was surprised she hadn't realized by now that my skin was always this pale.
She eyed me carefully. "Are you getting enough iron?"
I couldn't tell her that I was allergic to iron in a way, so I just nodded complacently.
"All right. Good night, then." She turned to go.
"Night."
She paused with her hand on the door. "Hey, do you know if we have to watch this woman that died?"
"Watch her for what?"
"I don't know, to see if she turns all hairy."
I shook my head. Ignorance abounded. "I don't think that's how it works. As far as I've heard, werewolves are born not made."
"Right." She nodded then pushed through the door and left me blissfully alone.
I took off my stethoscope, hung it up in my locker then grabbed my jacket, my bag and my bike helmet. Time to go home. I needed the rest.
After nodding my goodbyes to some of the staff, I went out the front doors, made my way across the small parking lot to the street where I parked my motorcycle. Fall was fast approaching, making it almost too cool to ride my bike, especially at midnight. The thought of being inside two tons of metal for hours at a time nearly brought tears to my eyes. I hated driving in vehicles and had the worst case of car sickness. Same thing with airplanes. Hated them. Couldn't go in one.
Iron had a sickening effect on the fae. Although I wasn't full blooded, I still felt the ions of the metal seeping into my skin through my pores and destabilizing my immune system. I wasn't absolutely positive why this happened. Something to do with the Bronze Age and the Iron Age. During the Bronze Age, the fae lived out in the open, free to live their lives as they'd been doing for centuries. But when the Iron Age came, so did prejudice and persecution. Many fae died by tortuous hands. Since then iron had become like a disease and the once mental aversion became a physical one hereditarily passed down through the generations.
Despite the story being true or not, the effects were the same. Iron didn't sit well with anyone with fae blood. Although I wasn't full-blooded, I still belonged to that small group of unfortunates. Lucky me.
But a girl had to get around, so I rode a motorcycle, a really cool one at that---candy apple red and white painted tank and fenders, the rest in shiny chrome. I wore a matching helmet and with my white leather jacket, I was vain enough to think I looked pretty cool. To me, there was nothing like having the wind in my face and hair. I likened it to flying. Not that I truly knew what that felt like. Enough to know that if I could do it, I knew I'd never want to do anything else.
After taking out the elastic from my hair, I settled my helmet over my head. Before mounting the bike, I thought about the poor woman that had been savaged by something. I wasn't yet prepared to say it had been a werewolf attack, but I definitely was leaning that way.
I didn't want werewolves to be the big bad creatures depicted in bad horror films. Because if they turned out to be monsters, then I was sure I wasn't that far behind them.
My thoughts strayed to Officer Stettler's claim that I had the hots for one of them. Severin Saint Morgan in particular.
Emigrated from Australia years ago, Severin appeared to be a mild-mannered associate professor at the University of British Columbia. He was the poster boy so to speak for the werewolf community. He'd been on TV several times talking about how werewolf packs operated, trying I was sure to calm the public. I had to admit they chose him well. How could anyone think werewolves were monsters when one of their own was packaged so well?
Swinging my leg over the bike, I nestled into the leather seat, and kicked the bike over. But I didn't pull away from the curb. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. I felt uneasy, almost like I was being watched.
I was pretty much alone on the street except for a couple of homeless people, both of whom I knew by name. I glanced across the street to see if someone lurked in the doorways or first floor windows of the pawn shop. As far as I could see, there was no one there.
I wasn't usually paranoid but the feeling would not vanish. I shivered inside my jacket but not from the cool night air.
Resigned to just move on, I turned back around, but that was when something on the rooftop of the building opposite me caught my eye. Startled, I stared up at the top of the brick building. There were dark shadows, but some of them seemed to be moving. Then a black shape sprang from one rooftop to the next.
I shook my head, thinking my eyes were playing tricks. No way could a person could jump that far. But maybe it wasn't exactly a person up there lurking in the night. Maybe it was something else. Something not quite human.
Shivering again, I kicked up the stand and decided to get the hell out of there. Quickly. I pulled away from the curb, intending to race away from the ominous feeling that had taken hold.
Because of the late hour, I decided to take a short cut home. The roads I chose weren't in the best areas of town but I didn't have any fear. It took a lot more than a few homeless people and young gang members shooting off their mouths to frighten me. When I was on my bike, especially at night, I felt completely untouchable.
I raced through the Eastside. As I made the next turn, I might have been over the speed limit. That could've been why I had trouble stopping as I came upon a giant brown wolf standing in the middle of the street.
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After sliding with the bike for about twelve feet, I came to a complete stop. The wolf seemed to watch me struggle underneath the weight of the bike then bounded off into the shadows. Thankfully, I wasn't injured. My knee-high riding boots protected my lower leg from road-rash.
Once I righted the bike and kicked the stand, I tore off my helmet, hung it on the handlebar, and walked down the street, searching the shadows for the wolf. As I was sure it had been one. Which meant a werewolf was nearby.
As I stood there, out in the open and vulnerable, I thought maybe this wasn't the smartest thing to do. I should get back on my bike and get the hell out of there.
Sure, I had training in defensive techniques---I studied S.I.N.G. like everyone else (solar plexus, instep, nose, groin)---and some martial arts, but not enough to take on a huge wolf that could rip out my throat with one swipe of its lethal claws.
I started to back up towards my bike. Maybe I could get on it and start it before something big and hairy and hungry leapt out at me from the shadows. If I ran, I wondered if it would chase me.
"Are you injured?"
The sexy accented voice came from a line of shadows near one of the old buildings. Turning, I searched the night for him. I could see a form moving in the shadows. Then he stepped out into the glow of the street lamps and I nearly lost all reason.
Unabashedly naked, he strode into the street toward me. His skin shone with sweat and I admit fully to ogling him from head to toe. Possibly pausing much too long on the middle part to be considered polite. But by the enticing grin on his face, he didn't seem to mind in the least.
"No," I finally managed to say.
As he neared, I realized he was maybe only an inch taller than my five foot ten inches. But he was wide, like a linebacker on a football team. Powerful shoulders, muscular arms, flat stomach, and ripped athletic legs, he was incredible to look at. I tried not to stare too long at his other attributes, but it was impossible not to.
Severin Saint Morgan was a big man.
Clearing my throat, I finally found my voice, although it was a bit shaky. "What were you doing in the middle of the road?"
"Prowling." His wet hair fell forward. He ran his hands through the lustrous brown waves, pulling them back off his face. His light blue eyes seemed to dance in his angular face. They were striking, intense. And they hadn't left my face since he stepped out of the shadows.
"Well next time, maybe you should stick to the sidewalks." I was wringing my hands together when I noticed that my skin was unnaturally white. They almost seemed to glow a little. I quickly hid them behind my back.
He grinned at that.
I felt something warm begin to flow inside. Heat swirled in my stomach and threatened to venture lower if I didn't put a cork in my carnal thoughts. This was extremely difficult with an incredibly alluring naked man standing in front of me smiling.
"You have a beautiful smile."
My heart picked up a few extra beats. "Thank you." God, I was scared out of my mind, but at the same time desire flared over me. A strange combination.
He nodded. "You're a nurse."
His words weren't a question.
"Yes," I said, my voice cracking. "How do you know that?" And my thoughts flitted back to the moving shadows on the rooftop by the hospital.
He gestured with his hand. "Your scrubs."
I glanced down at myself. I had on my light blue hospital scrubs still. They were pretty distinctive. "Oh, right. Yes, I work at St. Paul's."
"It suits you. You give off this healing vibe." He continued to stare into my eyes.
I should've felt unnerved but I didn't. I liked his intensity. Which was strange because I usually didn't like people looking at me for so long. Hiding was harder when someone's trying to stare right through you.
I stared back at him, letting my gaze drift slowly down his body. That was when I noticed the long red gouges on his chest.
"You're hurt." I had the sudden urge to reach out and touch him, to soothe the angry looking cuts. I wondered where he'd gotten them. During his prowling about town?
"Just a scratch. It'll be gone in a couple of days." He touched the swelling marks, pushing on them as if to prove his point. "We have remarkable healing capabilities."
"Yes, I know. I saw you on Breakfast Television talking about some of your...ah, differences."
He just continued to eye me, as if in consideration of something, making me nervous and fluttery in odd places. By the flash in his eyes, he knew what he was doing to me.
"What were you doing in this neighborhood? Not a likely place a university professor would hang out," I asked, still curious about his injury.
"I had business nearby."
I eyed him, not quite sure what to make of him. I wasn't one hundred percent positive that he wasn't a danger to me in some way. Because he was dangerous. No doubt about it.
"You weren't over at St. Paul's earlier, were you?"
A few seconds passed before he answered. "Why would you ask?"
"Because a woman came in with a gut wound and marks just like those." I gestured to his chest. "She died on the table before we could stitch her back together."
"That's unfortunate. I'm sorry to hear that she died."
"You followed me, didn't you? From St. Paul's? I saw you on the rooftops."
He nodded. "I heard about the attack and I had to follow up on it. My job is to keep the werewolf community in check."
I shivered again from his intensity. This man had a lot of power, it radiated from him. I sensed that if he knew who'd been responsible for the attack on that woman, he'd take care of it. With his own type of justice I suspected. It made me curious how werewolves punished their own.
"How did you know that I was even involved? We get tons of trauma patients in every night."
He tapped his nose. "I could smell the attack on you."
I had no idea what to say to that.
After a few more moments of staring at one another, he bowed to me. Which I found extremely odd but pleasant. "I must take my leave but first if you would grant me your name."
"It's Nina Decker."
"Nina."
The way he said my name made me think of someone sampling a delicacy and finding it extremely pleasant. My belly and lower clenched in response.
"Stay safe." With a last nod, he turned and walked back across the street toward the shadows along one old building.
I had to admit I watched every swagger of his tight ass.
Glancing over his shoulder, he said, "I hope to see you again, but this time under different circumstances."
Speechless, I remained glued to the spot and watched as he disappeared into the night. I don't know how long I stood there, but by the time I turned and got back on my bike, my legs were sore from standing in one spot on the pavement for too long.
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On the drive home, I thought about Severin. It was difficult not to---the man was unforgettable. And I had to admit I knew more about him than probably was normal...or safe. I'd spent a good two hours Googling him after the first time I'd seen him on TV. For curiosity sake, of course.
I managed to find an article he'd written for the Scientific Journal about the evolution of wolves. He'd discovered a recessive gene in one of the species---a gene closely related to humans. In response came a few articles debunking his theories and work. I kept those too.
The man was a triple threat---intelligent, ambitious and devastatingly gorgeous. And probably not someone I should be thinking, or daydreaming, about. Or anything else of the kind. He was of a different species. One I knew nothing about. It was one thing to get into a relationship with a man you didn't know, but with a werewolf...
Who knew what came with that.
And speaking of alternate species, I thought about how my hands had seemed to glow earlier in the lamp light. I glanced in my side mirror at my face. Moving right and left, I examined the skin. It didn't appear as if I was glowing. I was certainly pale, like fine-boned porcelain, someone had once told me, and add the fact that my hair was as black as ink. Despite that I didn't think I was actually glowing. At least, I hope I wasn't. Now that we were a brave new paranormal world, something that bizarre would make someone want to do tests on me. If werewolves existed, what other legends were true? I had no doubt plenty of people wanted to find that out. I was not prepared for that to happen. Ever.
A half hour later, after parking my bike in my garage at home, I flipped on the light in my kitchen, tossing keys and my canvas bag onto the granite counter. In the sink were a dirty plate and a pot half-submersed in greasy water. Shaking my head, I pulled them out, rinsed them off and put them in the dishwasher.
I hadn't even closed the dishwasher door when the sound of footsteps brought my head around.
"Kinda late to be coming home, don't you think?"
Instantly, I relaxed. "I had a twelve-hour shift." I finished closing the door, latched it and turned the knob. "Would you like some tea?" I opened the cupboard and took out two tea cups knowing he would say yes.
Nodding, he pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and lowered his frail frame into it.
As I filled the teapot with water and set it on the stove, I looked at him, my heart breaking every time.
He was tall and gangly, all long thin limbs with no substance. I remembered a time when he wasn't like that. He'd been strapping and handsome, full of vigor, up for anything at any time. We had some good times together, laughing, and playing. Jason Decker, my father, had always been one for games.
Now he was old and withered, looking and feeling ancient beyond his sixty-two years. And there was nothing I could do but watch him slowly fade. My mother was to blame. She'd sucked the life and joy out of him, and left without a second thought to his welfare. She cared only for herself and her own selfish pleasure.
"What did you do tonight, Da?" I asked as I put chamomile tea bags into our cups.
"Sat by the garden."
He did that just about every day. All his days consisted of now were napping, sitting in the garden, and painting. He had a little studio off the living room where he spent hours creating portraits of my mother. Whether he used charcoal, oil-based paint, or watercolor, every single painting was of her in some form.
Some paintings were lovely, with exquisite attention to detail and eye-appealing color, and some were so dark, so violent and twisted, I even had trouble looking at them. And I knew that was what his soul looked like, a mixture of beauty and darkness, twisted together. Light and dark in conflict. Always in conflict.
That was what being fae-struck did to a person. Made them fractured, disjointed, with a mind barely able to hold onto reality. And an aging withered body to match.
That was my legacy, my secret and my curse. My mother was from the realm of the dark fae, a place steeped in darkness and mystery. I was born to it, but would never see it. Never wanted to either.
The fae were an ancient race of people cloaked in magic and mayhem. Some had even been worshipped as gods and goddesses during the time of the Celtic people. Fairy tales had been invented to describe them, but in reality, there was nothing whimsical about them. They were a dark and dangerous species that I had worked all my life to forget existed.
Fae blood may have flowed through my veins, but I was human---mind, body and soul.
The teapot whistled and I poured the hot water into our cups, taking them both to the table. I set his in front of him with a spoon. "I hope you wore a sweater. The air was a little cool earlier."
"I saw some pixies playing in the lavender."
I dunked the teabag up and down in my cup, trying not to look into his expectant face, set it on a napkin on the table, then picked up my spoon to stir. "Da, I told you to ignore them."
He banged his fist on the table, rattling his spoon. "I don't want to ignore them, Nina. I like to watch them. One even talked to me for a spell."
I rubbed at my forehead where a headache was starting to take hold. I really didn't want to have another conversation like this, not at one in the morning. "Why don't you take your tea to bed with you? You should get some sleep."
"Don't treat me like a child, A'lona."
Sighing, I reached across the table and squeezed his withered hand. "I'm not her, Da. I'm not A'lona. I'm your daughter, Nina, remember?"
At first, his eyes were clouded over when he looked at me, but after a turn, they seemed to clear and he smiled as if truly seeing me for the first time.
I returned his smile, overjoyed that he was lucid. He had days where he had no idea where he was. It wasn't Alzheimer's. We'd had all the tests. I knew what it was but he didn't want to admit the truth. He didn't want to accept that my mother had done this to him.
"I know who you are, my darling." He squeezed my hand tight. "You just look so much like her, so much like your mother."
I know he was paying me a compliment. My mother, A'lona, had been breathtakingly beautiful with lustrous dark hair, spring green eyes, and luminous pale flawless complexion. But because of my anger toward her, I hated being compared to her in any way. I hoped and I prayed that I wasn't anything like her and would never be, no matter what life threw at me.
"Yeah, well, unfortunately I can't seem to help that. Genetics and all." I gave him a quick sardonic smile and sipped my tea.
"One day you'll have to forgive her."
"Why?"
Picking up his cup, he sat back in his chair and regarded me. "Because some day you may need her."
"I can't see that day ever coming, Da. Not when I have you."
He sipped his drink then set it down on the table. "I won't always be here, Nina. You know that. Your mother will be around a lot longer."
"Yeah, well, that can't be helped either." Standing, I took my tea to the sink and dumped it. I was no longer in the mood for a nice cup of soothing tea. Talking about my mother had that affect. Anything that comforting or joyful faded when I thought about her.
She had abandoned me when I was ten and I had yet to forgive her. Nor did I see that ever happening. In the past seventeen years, I'd seen her only twice--both times on my birthday, once when I was turning sixteen and the other time when I was turning twenty-one. She'd arrived unexpectedly on the doorstep, bearing gifts for both Da and I. As if expensive presents could make up for her abandonment.
For my sweet sixteenth, she gave me a glass globe. Inside was a tiny village made out of porcelain nestled in a wooded glen beside a tall mountain. When you shook the globe, tiny glowing stars would dance around. Quite beautiful. She told me it was the realm of Nightfall where she had been born, the place she had left us for. Every time I shook it, she said, she would know that I was thinking of her.
Without thanking her for it, I had smashed it into a thousand pieces on the hard wood floor in our living room.
Da had yelled at me and told me how ungrateful I had been. All the while, I glared at A'lona, wishing her to vanish into mist. She had just returned my look, but there had been no anger in her gaze or malice. Just understanding. That had angered me the most. Because if she had truly understood, she wouldn't have left me in the first place.
I remembered spending the rest of the day in the room, crying and tearing apart all my pretty things. Later, tired and hungry, I had snuck out of my room to the kitchen to snag a piece of my birthday cake. As I crept past my father's room, I had heard them together. The realization had angered and disgusted me, and I had almost burst into the room to drag her out of the house by her hair. But I didn't. I couldn't do that to my father.
After only a day, A'lona had once again disappeared, and my father sunk into a depression, sobbing until his throat was hoarse. For days after, he'd refuse to eat or go to work. A week later, the depression broke and he was back to his normal happy self.
So on my twenty-first birthday when she showed up at the door again, bearing gifts, I had thought for sure that Da would tell her to go back to Nightfall and leave us be. But he didn't. Once more, he had welcomed her in with open arms.
I understood then why it was that way. He'd been fae-struck and he'd always love her, no matter what and no matter how long she'd leave him for. Humans were cursed to love the fae forever. That was just one of the reasons I wasn't in a serious relationship. It just wouldn't be fair to the other person.
That time she had given me an exquisite bracelet made from amethyst and moonstone. Real moonstone, not the beads that pretend they are made from the lunar rock. I had thanked her, kissed her on the cheek, then that night when they had retired to my father's room, I sneaked outside and buried it in the garden.
Moonflowers grew in that spot now, encircling a small pond where two toads have taken up residence. Every night their dark blue petals unfurled to soak up the moon's rays--the exact spot where Da always saw the pixies playing. Pixies from Nightfall, the place where my mother was born and lived.
Movement stirred behind me. I hadn't heard Da move up behind me. He set his empty cup on the counter and placed his quivering hand on my shoulder. I leaned into his touch.
"You have to stop hating her, Nina. It will only eat at you from the inside out."
I shook my head. "Why should I? What has she done to deserve my forgiveness?"
"She can't help what she is. Would you fault a wolf from hunting and killing its prey to feed itself?"
Thoughts of Severin instantly filled my mind.
"Its nature is to do what it must to survive." He squeezed my shoulder again then let his hand fall. "So it is with your mother. She does what she does to survive."
I didn't look at him even when he pressed a quick kiss to my cheek and said, "Goodnight, darling. I'll see you in the morning."
"Night."
I waited until he'd left the kitchen before I rinsed and set our cups in the dishwasher, his words mulling around in my head. I didn't want to consider that A'lona had valid motivations for what she did. To me, there couldn't have been any reason to abandon a child at the tender age of ten. No reason to leave her without any explanation to be raised by her father. I could never have done that.
I stood at the sink and stared out the big window toward the backyard garden. The moonflowers were in full bloom. Dark petals fluttered in the light breeze as the stamens glowed like fireflies dancing in the moonlight. If I squinted, I knew I would see the buzzing of wings around the pond. Full dark was the perfect time for pixies to play.
Instead, yawning, I turned from the display, clicked off the light in the kitchen and took the stairs to my bedroom. I was too tired to deal with those from Nightfall. I had my own supernatural being to deal with in this realm.
Severin's sexy rugged face and exquisite naked form planted firmly in my mind as I shed my clothes and slid under the covers. There went my good night's sleep.
\*\*\*
Trying to hide another yawn behind my hand, I nodded to the elderly man telling me about the pains he'd been having in his bowels. Thankfully, I was halfway through my shift. I hadn't slept well and was having a difficult time keeping my eyes open. Dreams of Severin kept me involved for most of the night.
I finished taking the patient's blood pressure and marked down the numbers on his chart. "Okay, Mr. Goldman, the doctor will be in right away to see you."
With the chart in hand, I pulled back the sunny yellow curtain and returned to the triage desk to enter information onto the huge whiteboard on the wall containing room numbers and patient names. As I was writing, Diana slid up in next to me.
"Feeling better?"
I nodded, and then yawned.
She looked me up and down. "Uh-uh. You didn't get any sleep, did you?"
"I got some."
"Yesterday get to you?" Without waiting for a reply, she said, "Yeah, that woman's death got to me too." She stroked her fingers over the stethoscope wrapped around her neck.
She did that when she had something on her mind.]
"Everyone's still buzzing about it. Wondering if there are going to be more werewolf attacks."
"Do we really know that was one?" I asked stiffly as I turned and walked back to the triage desk to grab another patient file.
Diana followed. "Hey, what's with you?"
I rolled my shoulders, feeling the tension cramping my muscles. "Nothing."
"Hey, did you hear---" Kevin, one of the other nurses, leaned close to us "---about the body they found in East Hastings early this morning?'
I shook my head.
"Body's all cut up, organs removed I heard. One of the cops I know said it looked like a ritual killing."
"Really?" Diana said.
Kevin nodded eagerly, clearly thrilled to be in on the good gossip. "I guess they found some weird rocks with symbols painted on them all in circle around the body. Weird, huh?"
"What kind of symbols?" A sudden chill rushed down my spine. I wrapped my arms around my body in response, trying to rub it away.
"Don't know." He shrugged. "Hey, do you think the werewolves are behind it?" he asked, his eyes all lit up.
Before I could say anything, my cell phone vibrated in my pants pocket. I checked the number before I answered and recognized my home number. My father.
He never called me.
I walked away from the nurse's station and answered it. "What's wrong?"
"The pixies are after me."
"Da," I sighed. "What did I say about them?"
"They're angry for some reason, Nina. One of them bit my ear."
"Are you hurt? Did you fall or something in the garden? Do you want me to call Mrs. Duka next door and see if she can come over?" I cradled the phone between my shoulder and ear, while I rubbed at my temple where a headache was brewed.
"Gah! Get away, you pest!"
His voice was shrill making my heart jump in my chest. "Da?"
"Damn it!"
I heard something break in the background. Something that sounded suspiciously like glass.
"No! Get back!"
Then nothing. I listened to a dead line.
As I redialed my home number, Diana watched me out of the corner of her eye. Concern furrowed her brow. "Everything okay?"
"I don't know yet." A busy signal buzzed in my ear. I pressed end, then redialed. Again, I got a busy signal.
Flipping my phone closed, I slid it into my pocket. My stomach clenched. I had a very bad feeling that something wasn't right at my house. Had my father finally gone off the deep end? Or was it something worse? Something from Nightfall.
"I need to go, Diana." I didn't meet her gaze. I didn't want her to see how frightened I was becoming.
"Your dad's not doing well, is he?"
"He has his good days and his bad days." I sighed. "Guess which one this is?"
"Maybe you should consider finding a facility for him."
I looked at her then with a frown, irritation building inside. "I'm not putting my father in a home."
"Nina, it might be the best thing for him." She paused and rubbed at her stethoscope. "For you, too. Alzheimer's can take its toll on a family. I know. My grandfather had it."
"My father doesn't have Alzheimer's. He's just..." I couldn't finish the sentence. How could I possibly explain to Diana that my dad was fae-struck, and it had sucked the life out of him, both physically and mentally?
"Okay, go. I'll make sure you're covered here."
For all her prickly qualities, she possessed a few good ones too that just happened to miraculously show up when I really needed them to. Like now. She knew I didn't want to be pressed about my father.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded and then squeezed my shoulder in an uncharacteristic show of friendship. "I'll see you when you get back."
"Thanks." I rushed to the staff room to grab my bag and my helmet. I ran down the four flights of stairs to the parking garage---parking indoors seemed smart from now on---mentally calculated how long it would take to get home. I desperately hoped that my dad was having an episode. Because I couldn't quite wrap my mind around the alternative.
I made it home in twenty minutes. It would've been sooner but there was an accident on Hastings that forced me to take a different route. I did still speed though.
Hastily parking my bike on the driveway, I unlocked the front door and pushed it open, calling to my father, "Da?"
No answer.
Dropping my purse and keys onto the table at the front foray, I ventured further into the house, first going into the living room and kitchen. He was not there, but a chair was overturned, lying on its side on the kitchen floor. My heart slamming inside my chest, I picked it up and set it back.
I ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time to my father's bedroom. I pushed open the door to find the room empty. His bed was neatly made, everything looked in order. I quickly checked my room, although he'd have no reason to be in there. I also checked the bathroom. The room was as I left it this morning.
But something caught my eye as my gaze swept the small window. I rushed to it and looked down into the garden. My father lay on his side on the grass near the garden, unmoving.
I sprinted down the stairs and out the balcony doors in a panicky rush, praying under my breath that he was still alive. I would never forgive myself if he had died on his own, alone and without help.
As I neared him, I saw fresh angry red scratches on his hands, arms, and face. Fearing the worse, I crouched down and placed my fingers on his neck to feel for a pulse. "Da?"
He groaned and I let the breath I was holding go, mumbling a thank you to the benevolent spirit that had heard my prayer. His pulse was strong under my fingers.
I rolled him onto his back. That was when I saw the four-inch creature licking blood from a tiny cut on my father's chin. In a flash, its tiny head came up and it hissed at me, its thin lips stained crimson.
However many stories tell about the playful and whimsical nature of pixies, I knew the truth. There was no whimsy in the creature's slanted opaque eyes as it glared and spat like a wild cat. I could feel the malevolence wafting off it like steam from a scalding shower.
Games of fancy were not on its mind. Thoughts of blood and pain were definitely more like it by the look of venom on its tiny periwinkle face. Distending its long vicious claws, it leapt.
Luckily, I had quick reflexes and I managed to snag the little creature, arms pinned to its sides, in my fist before it could rip out my eye, which it had definitely been aiming for.
"Letz me go, wicked girl!" it shrieked.
Its voice was high pitched like a bell and inaudible to most people. But I had great hearing and discerned every single syllable it snarled. "Why are you here? How did you get here?"
The pixie struggled in my grip but I had no intention of letting go, not until I received some answers.
"Iz always here, stupidz."
"I'd watch your little mouth, pest." I increased the pressure of my grasp. "Why did you attack my father?"
It thrashed about again, trying to release its limbs so it could rip and tear into me. But I didn't relinquish my hold. Fury lifted its blue lips into a cruel snarl, and I could plainly see two rows of tiny razor-like teeth. I had no time to respond to its intentions before it sunk those fangs into the meaty part of my thumb.
I yelped and nearly opened my hand, but I caught myself before I freed my prisoner. Cringing from the sharp pain singing up my arm, I gritted my teeth and asked my question again. "Why did you attack my father? Answer me or I will squeeze you like a tube of toothpaste."
As the pixie unhooked its teeth from my flesh and glared, blood trickled down my wrist to drip onto my pants. Its hungry gaze eyed the red path with ruthless enthusiasm. Like a thin black worm, its tongue snaked out of its gaping mouth and lapped at the crimson feast.
Angry, I increased the pressure on its body. True to my word, I squeezed the little bugger like a tube of white goo.
"Stopz! Stopz!" It yelped and thrashed about. "Iz tell you want youz wantz."
I released the pressure a little. "Go ahead."
"Nightfallz tell me."
"Who in Nightfall? What's the person's name?"
It shrugged its bony shoulders. "Iz no not."
My father groaned again and I looked down at his slack face, marred by angry red marks. He was an old man, fragile and innocent. He didn't deserve this fate. Rage blossomed inside me. I shook with it. Squeezing the pixie hard, I stared into its eyes and spoke low, my voice as cold as brittle ice, "Tell. Me. Who."
It shook its head back and forth and moaned, "Iz no name. Just hearz a whisper on the windz."
"What did it say? What were the words?"
I could see the hesitation on its face so I squeezed even harder. Its face darkened to a deep purple as the air left its tiny lungs. After one final struggle, it slumped in my fist and murmured on one of its final puffs of air, "Killz Jason Decker."
Shock had me loosening my hand and the pixie slid limply to the ground, landing in a heap at my knees. I couldn't believe it. Someone in Nightfall had ordered my father's assassination.
Why? What purpose would his death demonstrate? He was not a threat to Nightfall. At least, I didn't think he knew anything that could threaten their existence.
The pixie stirred on the ground. I glanced down at it, sympathy digging at me like a jagged tooth. It had only been a tool of someone else's evil intent. No choice but to obey its fae masters.
It struggled to its feet, its breath coming in quick hard pants. One of pale blue gossamer wing lay crumpled against its side. A pang of compassion rang over me and I nearly reached down to help it up. But then I remembered what it had tried to do to my father. Most of my kindness drained away.
"Go back to Nightfall and tell your mistress or master that any more attempts on my father's life will have disastrous results for them."
Bowing its head, the creature struggled to unfurl its wings. Pain flashed across its face as the broken membranes and thin delicate skin of its wing tore open, leaving it with one full wing and a piece to fly with. Springing up with its legs, it took to the air.
I watched as it maneuvered toward the night-blooming moon flowers, fully expecting it to disappear into the dark petals.
At the last second, it turned around. Teeth bared, it launched at me.
This time, I was too slow. Pain ripped through me as it tore into my right cheek. Teeth and claws dug into my flesh with ruthless slashes and bites. With both hands, I gripped it and yanked violently at its body, desperate to get it off my face. As I extracted it, I could feel skin and flesh coming with it. My stomach roiled over at the thought of what the pixie had managed to rip off my cheek.
Hissing and spitting in my hands, the pixie's face was covered with gore. My gore. My blood and skin and flesh.
Without another thought, I crushed it in my hands, too iced up to revel in the sound of snapping bones and squishing insides. I squeezed until the heat of its body dissipated. I squeezed until I couldn't feel the tiny patter of its heart.
Once I was positive it was dead, I tossed it into the garden then attended to my father lying still on the ground. I checked his pulse again and thanked god it was getting stronger. Sliding my arm under him, I lifted him into a sit.
He stirred from the movement, eyelids fluttering.
Holding my breath, I waited until he opened his eyes. At first, he seemed disoriented, peering around at his surroundings as if seeing them for the first time. Then his gaze settled on me, and recognition settled in. "Nina?"
"Yes, Da."
He raised his hand and touched the now-tacky cuts on his forehead. Wincing, he pulled his fingers back and stared at the congealed blood on the tips. "What happened?"
I debated whether to tell him the truth. For years now, I'd been protecting his fragile mind from the reality of the situation. Trying to convince him, and maybe myself, that the fae world didn't exist. That he hadn't been fae struck and was slowly dying from it. But after this attack, I couldn't hide it from him. He had to know. Then maybe he could protect himself, instead of letting the magical myth of the fae to brainwash him into believing that they just wanted to play. The games these fae played had lethal consequences. "You were attacked by a pixie."
He frowned. "What? Surely not. Pixies are friendly."
Standing, I helped him to his feet. He wobbled once and I had to put my arm around him so he wouldn't fall. Once he was stable, I grabbed his hand and turned it so he could see the cuts and scratches. "Does this look friendly?"
Eyes wide, he turned his hand back and forth, studying his wounds. "I must've fallen in the rose bushes."
"The rose bushes are on the other side of the yard." Anger clipped my words, but I was beyond tired of his ignorance to believe that those from Nightfall were not our friends. Including my mother.
It was then that his gaze fell upon the dead pixie in the garden. "Oh my God, Nina. What have you done?"
"That vicious little bugger nearly killed you. He even attacked me." I turned my face so he could see my ruined cheek.
Tears welled in his eyes. "Oh, Nina. You don't know what you have done."
"I saved your life is what I did." Tired of standing out in the garden, I started for the house, half carrying, half dragging Da with me.
By the time we reached the deck, he was sobbing. "You have brought ruin onto us, Nina. Those in Nightfall will avenge the pixie's death."
I dragged him through the glass doors and into the kitchen. He wasn't resisting me, but he definitely wasn't helping either. By the time we reached the bottom of the stairs, I was breathing hard
"To kill one of the fae is to bring death upon your head," he ranted, his voice now shrill with hysteria.
"Let them come, then. I'm not afraid."
Turning, he grasped my shoulders, a wild look in his eyes. "You should be." Then he promptly passed out.
I managed to catch him as he fell, cradling his head before it hit one of the steps, but I knew now I'd never get him up the stairs to his bedroom. Inching him down gently to the floor, I pondered his last words.
I was never one for fear. My mother had cured me of that emotion by abandoning me to an alien world I would never be a part of. After something like that, a child doesn't really have much to fear.
But I had to admit as I considered the consequences of my actions in killing the pixie, a small thread of fear wound its way around my body. Who or what would they send to avenge the pixie's death? Maybe my mother would be the one to come. Deep down inside the place where I was still just a child, where the pain of her abandonment still lingered and the anger for what she'd done to my father simmered, I hoped that it would be her who the fae lords sent.
I'd be ready. Then finally I could get my retribution.
\*\*\*
After getting my father onto the hide-a-bed in the den and cleaning his wounds, I went into my bathroom and stitched up my cheek. Three painful stitches later, I crashed for a few hours before returning to work.
Two days passed without incident. My cheek was healing, probably a little too fast than was normal, but so far no one had commented.
Thankfully over the course of that time, I didn't have any unexpected visitors from Nightfall screaming for revenge for the pixie's death. My father returned to his blissful ignorance and acted as if nothing had happened in the garden. As if an assassin from Nightfall hadn't tried to kill him, and I hadn't slain the assassin instead. Sometimes I wished I could forget things like that so easily. Then maybe I wouldn't be having trouble sleeping.
Every night before I retired, I looked out my bedroom window and stared into the garden, especially toward the moon flowers and the small pond that had magically appeared all those years ago after I planted the bracelet my mother had given me. Every time I looked, I fully expected to see the glimmer of wings in the moonlight.
I was sitting at the nurse's desk, discharging patients and pondering that thought when Diana leaned on the counter and handed me a tall steaming cup of coffee.
"You looked like you needed this."
I took the offering with a smile of surprise. "Thank you." I took a sip and sighed. The brew was strong and just what I needed about now.
She gestured to my face, her gaze narrowing. "You're a fast healer."
I turned my face a little, subconscious. "Yeah, I've always healed fast. Good antibodies I guess."
She nodded, but didn't look completely convinced.
Diana's cell phone shrilled from her coat pocket before I could comment any further. Tearing her gaze from me, she dug it out and answered. "Dr. Cole."
A deep angry frown crossed her face. "No way is that going to happen, Lee." She wandered to the far side of the nurse's station.
As Diana continued to argue with, I assumed, another doctor, I opened my computer files and started to catch up on some of the reports that I'd put aside. Before I could start typing, the main phone on the desk buzzed. I picked up the handset and pressed the button. "Emergency. This is Nina Decker."
"I want to apologize for scaring you the other night."
It only took me a second to recognize the caller. My heart picked up a beat at Severin's accented sultry voice. Pressing my lips together, I swiveled in my chair so no one could see the flush on my face. "No need. I wasn't that scared."
"Regardless, let me make it up to you." He paused.
I heard hard rock music playing in the background.
"Let's have dinner. Tomorrow night."
"I don't know. I don't even know you." I tried to keep my voice neutral, but feared a little hitch sounded that Diana would pick up on. I glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone was there. Thankfully, I was relatively alone.
"What do you need to know?" He paused for a moment then continued, "It's not that I'm a---"
"Oh God, no. I'm completely fine with that."
"Are you now? That's interesting."
I chewed at my nail, tempted by his offer and on more than one level. I couldn't deny I was attracted to Severin. What hot-blooded woman wouldn't be? But also I really wanted to know about werewolves and how they lived and the function of a pack. Their society was all very fascinating. And I had to admit I really wanted to know how they did it. What motivated them to come out in the open. "I can meet you somewhere," I finally said.
There was silence on his end, but I could imagine his smile, grinning in triumph. The image had my stomach clenching in anticipation.
"Lombardo's on fifth, seven o'clock."
"Okay, I'll see you then."
"I'm looking forward to it, Nina."
Turning to the desk, I set the handset back into its cradle, my hands quivering ever so slightly.
Diana stood in front of the desk looking at me. "Who was that? You're blushing."
I scratched my nose, the guilty itch plaguing me. "Just Rick from the lab calling about one of the patients."
"Was he flirting?"
I nodded. "A little."
"Yeah, he's like that, the little leech. He once had the nerve to call me babe. Can you imagine?"
"No." Biting on the inside of my cheek, I smiled up at her. "And you, who were you yelling at?"
"Dr. Lee Song from oncology. He's such an asshole."
"Yeah, I've heard that."
She smirked. "All right, I guess I better be off to save some lives or something." She saluted me then wandered off to exam room four.
I watched her go then returned to my work. As I typed information into the computer, I noticed something odd about my hands again. The skin almost seemed transparent. I could see the veins and little capillaries clearer.
I set them on my lap and flexed them seeing if that helped. Again I looked at them, and my skin seemed normal. Well, as normal as I ever got.
Was the evidence becoming stronger that I wasn't like everyone else? Was my fae-ness showing through more?
I had been feeling different lately. As if something was going to happen, as if something was going to change for me soon. In a way, the sensation was like puberty all over again. I could feel the changes slowly moving over me, rippling under my skin, waiting to burst through.
I just hoped I had enough strength and humanity to keep them at bay. At least until I could figure out how to control them. Or find some way to cleanse them from my blood.
I glanced at the clock on the wall, and I heard the tick tick tick of the second hand and knew I didn't have much time before something monumental happened.
\*\*\*
It was past midnight when I finally shuffled through the front door of my house, dog tired with a migraine digging at my right temple. Tossing my bag and keys onto the table at the front entrance, I toed off my shoes and then padded into the kitchen for some tea. If the tea didn't soothe my head, I was definitely going to pop pain meds so I could get some decent sleep.
The kettle whistled, knocking me out of my reverie. I poured the hot water over the herbal tea bag. As I dunked, I looked out the window into the garden. The night was beautiful, clear skies without any breeze. I wondered if my father had spent some time outside today. Although I warned him to stay away from the garden, I knew he wouldn't listen. He was stubborn. That was one trait we shared.
Yawning, I rubbed my eyes. I took a sip of my tea and hoped the brew would do its thing and relax me enough to let me sleep soundly. There'd been too many nights with troubled thoughts and strange dreams.
Tea in hand, I turned to go upstairs to bed when something out the window caught my eye. Squinting, I stared into the garden near the pond. Something glimmered there, a flash of something white. Was it wings? Were more pixies coming to finish the job?
Setting down my cup, I reached for one of the butcher knives from the wooden block. If the tiny fae were back, they would soon wish they'd picked another house to flutter over. Holding the knife, blade down, in a defensive position, I slid open the deck doors and crept outside in my bare feet. Heart pounding so hard it hurt, I moved toward the garden, searching the plants for any movement.
Every breath I took burned my lungs. Fear gripped me tight, but I kept putting one foot in front of the other. I wouldn't let anything injure my father, no matter how big or how mean it turned out to be.
When I reached the edge of the garden, I scanned the area. Nothing moved. No breeze whispered. The only thing I heard were crickets chirping nearby in the grass.
I stepped into the dirt between the rows of night blooming moon flowers. Feeling the earth between my toes grounded me a little. I'd always possessed an affinity to the ground, the dirt, and the flowers and plants that grew in it. During my childhood years, I spent as much time as I could in our garden, running my fingers through the soil, touching the leaves of the plants. I didn't realize why then, but I knew now my actions were because of my fae blood. I was connected to the earth.
As I continued through the garden, I trailed my fingers over the dark petals, feeling for anything out of place. Anything not of plant origin. When I reached the pond, I turned and looked over the path I'd just come. Nothing out here. Maybe my fatigue was playing with my mind. It wouldn't be the first time.
As I let go the breath I'd been holding, something caused me to turn toward the pond. Normally, there were two frogs living in it. I eyed the rippling water, searching for the tops of their warty heads. I didn't see them, but the water continued to ripple as if stirred by something beneath the surface.
While I stared into the undulating dark pond, I felt something tugging at my mind. A phantom hand pulling on a string attached to somewhere deep within my psyche. Resisting its lure, I tried to move away, but my feet wouldn't obey. I stayed standing in that spot, watching the movement of the water.
Buzzing rang in my ears. Like static, sound hummed against my eardrums. Between the waves of nothingness, I heard whispering. The murmurs were seductive. I strained to hear more. I wanted to hear more.
Dropping the knife to the ground, I fell to my knees and leaned toward the pond. Was the whispering coming from the water? Something was trying to communicate with me. Something alien but sensual in its promise. What was it saying? I needed to know.
Panic gripped me and I leaned even closer. I could see the moon reflected in the water. Something about the light urged me closer, tempting me to touch it, promising me that I could hold it in the palm of my hand. I'd always wanted to hold the moon. Knowing it would feel cool and pleasant on my skin like caressing porcelain.
Settling my hands on the water's edge, I leaned even further, my nose nearly touching the dark ripples. I stared at my reflection, illuminated by the pale moonbeams. My eyes glowed green like the orbs on a traffic post. It might've been a trick of the light, but I felt like the luminosity was coming from within. Somewhere deep inside me burned bright with emerald fire.
My pale skin seemed even paler--as white as alabaster. That too could've been a deception by the moon's rays, but from the same place that sizzled green flame radiated the white glow of my skin.
Wide-eyed and ferocious, my appearance startled me. I looked like a dark warrior not of this world. The cut on my cheek added to the battle-scarred effect. The fae blood coursing through my veins showed through my human façade. There was no mistaking it. Not now, with the glow of moonlight cascading over my flesh, urging the glow from within. I looked fierce, as if I could take down a man with one blow.
I liked that. A lot.
The whispering continued and I strained to hear the beautifully haunting words. Balancing on my knees and hands, I was close to falling into the water. But I didn't care. The promises in the murmurs were too seductive to pull away from. My whole existence resided on those words, if only I could decipher them. If only I could understand.
Then the words stopped. Dead. Like a vacuum had sucked up all the sound around me. Even the crickets stopped chirping.
Frantic, I eyed the water, searching for the source of the whispers. I wouldn't be denied the knowledge that I knew lay within the murmured words. A cold sense of dread crept over me. As if I had lost the warmth of a sweater during an icy winter storm.
So lost in my hunt, I never saw the thing that reached for me from the pond.
There was no time to take in a deep breath before it yanked my head under the water. Frenzied, I clawed at the thing clutching me. I felt hard cold flesh under my fingers and nails. Plumes of blood floated up from the wounds I had inflicted. Something, or someone, had a hand bound in my hair pulling me down, keeping me in the water, drowning me.
As I scratched and kicked against the hold on me, I wondered how I could drown in the shallow pond. When I looked down through the water now, I sensed it went on forever. As if I had an endless ocean in my garden.
I pulled and yanked back my head, fighting desperately to get away. Even as I struggled, I could feel the air pushing out of my lungs. Pressure on my chest made my head pound and my eyes bulge painfully. I wouldn't hold out much longer... the urge to open my mouth and gasp for air burned through me.
With a last ditch effort, I clawed my nails across the icy flesh holding me, tearing divots into it. A faint cry of agony floated up in a bubble and the grip on my hair loosened. It was enough to raise my head and gasp for breath.
As I filled my aching chest with oxygen, gulping mouthfuls of air, I saw the hand that had grasped me coming for my neck. White flesh covered long bones and angles. On the end of elongated skeletal fingers were jagged nails, black and rotting under the cuticles. Gray and mottled scales dotted the skin.
What in hell was it? Before I could come up with an answer, I was pulled under the water again.
Dagger-like claws dug into my throat as I thrashed about trying to get free. But the grip was a solid one. I wouldn't get away so easily this time. Wrapping my hands around the bony wrist, I yanked and pulled and scratched and clawed but to no avail. Another minute more under the water and I was going to die.
I thrust my hands out of the water blindly. Scrambling against the edge of the pond, I searched for the knife I'd dropped. If I was going to live, I needed a weapon. Fingertips brushed the handle but I couldn't get a grip. Thoughts were fading from my mind, replaced by an eerie serenity. As if I was already dead and my soul was quietly slipping from my body. But I wasn't ready to die. I had too much to live for. Too much to do still. I couldn't slough off this mortal coil. It was too soon.
Hands reaching, I touched something metal. I wrapped my fingers around the handle and brought it down into the water. Without thought, I slashed at the arm holding me. Then I saw what I had in my hand--a small hand rake with three sharp prongs. The weapon had to be enough.
I slashed again and again, unsure if I met my mark every time, or at any time. Soon my vision was obscured by blood mucking the water. Like I was looking through crimson-colored glasses.
A high-pitched shriek pierced the muffled garbling of the water. As I felt the pressure at my neck loosen, I saw the fury-filled face float down into the black depths. The face of something non-human and alien, like from a fairytale. But not those told by Walt Disney, no these stories were from a more sinister venue where a happily ever after wasn't on the menu--- children were.
Lifting my head, I pushed up as hard as I could and rolled onto my back at the pond's edge. Lungs burning like acid, I gasped for air, greedily taking in as much as I could stand. When I could think straight, I scrambled further from the water and rolled onto my knees, nearly retching from the pain that ripped through my chest. Reaching for the knife, I grasped it tight and pushed to a stand.
Blade poised, with my hair stuck to my forehead and water dripping into my eyes, I stood over the pond and waited to see if my assailant would follow me out of the water. After a few minutes, I realized nothing would come bursting out to attack me again. The thing was gone. For now, at least, it had failed its mission.
The water rippled again, and I raised the knife to strike. A green warty head broke the surface. The frog jumped out of the pond and landed near my bare foot, now caked in mud. Bulgy eyes blinked up at me expectantly.
I glared down at the fae ambassador and fumed with rage. I wanted to lift my foot and press it down onto the green mass, hoping to split open its skin and mash its insides until it twitched no more. Instead, I pointed the tip of the blade at the slimy frog.
"I will not be an easy target. Tell them I will kill any they send to harm me or my father."
It croaked once as if in answer, then hopped back into the pond, disappearing beneath the dark water. I hoped after it delivered my message, it would drown in the return trip to this realm. From this point on, I had a real hate-on for frogs.
As I continued to stare down into the pond, I pondered how the portal worked. Because obviously that was what the water hole was--a gate between this realm and Nightfall. That was how the pixies arrived, and maybe this was the spot where my mother had disappeared all those years ago. The pond was a door. A way to travel back and forth. And it needed to be blocked forever.
Tucking the knife into the belt of my pants, I marched toward the tool shed. I opened the door, grabbed the long handled spade, and hauled it back to the garden. Unconcerned about the vegetable plants and flowers, I stuck the blade of the shovel into the ground and scooped as much dirt as I could lift. Without pause, I tossed it into the pond.
Two hours later, back aching and muscles quivering, I had filled in the pond. A sense of smug accomplishment filled me as I surveyed my handiwork. Although the rest of the garden was ruined, with the tomato plants in shambles and most of flowers ripped from their soil beds, I had closed the portal. No one from Nightfall could bother us again. Not unless they found another way in.
Too exhausted and sore to do anything but crawl up the stairs to my bed, I decided to think on that later. Right now, I just wanted to sleep. Despite the fact my hair was still damp and my shirt still clung to my body, muddy with bits of grass and plant stuck on, I knew I'd fall asleep the second my head hit the pillow.
I let the shovel fall from my hand and I shuffled, head down, eyes drooping into the house. Once I climbed the stairs, I pushed open the door to my room and ambled to the bed. But before I collapsed on top of the comforter, I had the presence of mind to slip the knife from my belt and slide it under my pillow. The fact I was dead to the world didn't mean I had any intention of staying that way permanently.
\*\*\*
Sipping a glass of orange juice, I folded my omelet over mushrooms and cheese. Today was my day off and I intended to enjoy every second, including a fabulous breakfast, something I hadn't enjoyed in a while. I'd always been too busy to stop and even eat one, let alone cook such a meal.
I scooped the omelet up and onto a plate just as my father shuffled into the kitchen. "Mm, what smells so good?"
"Mushroom and cheese omelet. Do you want one?"
"Yes, thanks."
Grabbing the plate, I slid it onto the kitchen table toward my father with an accompanying fork. As I did that, I made sure to keep my neck covered by the collar of my shirt. I hadn't had time yet to cover the marks with makeup. I didn't really want to alarm him so early in the morning with the dark bruises and scratches around my throat.
He dug into the food eagerly, and asked around a mouthful, "Why aren't you at work?"
"It's my day off, Da." I cracked more eggs into a bowl and whipped them, then added a little milk to make them frothy. "I have some errands to run." Taking a sip of my juice, I asked, "Why are you up so early?"
"Dolores and I are going bowling." Dolores was Mrs. Duka, the widow from next door. "She belongs to a league. I'm thinking of joining."
"I think that's a great idea. You should get out of the house more." And be around regular human people. But I didn't voice that last part.
As I finished the other omelet and slid it onto a plate, Da shuffled up next to me and set his dirty dish in the sink. I didn't move my head in time and I knew by the widening of his eyes that he had seen the marks on my neck.
He reached for the collar of my shirt. "What happened?"
I pulled away from his reach, but he could be spry when he really wanted to be and managed to grip the fabric between his fingers.
"I'm fine, Da. Really."
"That definitely doesn't look fine. Looks like someone tried to choke you to death."
Giving up the ruse, I turned to face him. And that was when he paled. I'd already seen in the mirror what he was staring at, so it didn't surprise me when he looked wide-eyed. Viewing it for the first time myself, the injuries had nearly knocked the breath from my lungs, and I'd already been prepared for it.
"My God, Nina." He took a distancing step away, as if I was contagious. "Who did this to you?"
I sighed. "A mermaid maybe. Or an undine. Although I don't think the elemental is usually spiteful like a mermaid can be."
"You think a mermaid did this to you?"
"Something from Nightfall did this. Something that can survive in water." I touched my neck, running the tips of my fingers over the scabbed-up nail-sized divots.
Shaking his head, he dropped his gaze. "I don't believe it."
"Well, you better start to. This was the second assassination attempt on this family."
"Nina, you're talking crazy. Assassination attempt? That doesn't make any sense." He frowned.
I ripped down my collar to expose all the marks and bruises. Four prints on one side and one large black circle on the other, the size of someone's thumb. "Does this look crazy? A figment of my imagination?"
He refused to look at me.
"First pixies attack you, then this mermaid tried to drown me in the pond. This isn't a fairytale, Da. Those from Nightfall are not our friends. They mean us harm, and always have. Including her."
He raised his head then, a look of unexpected fury crossing his face. "Don't talk about your mother like that. She has been nothing but kind to me, Nina. And she loves you. She would never hurt you."
In that one moment, he looked as ferocious as I've ever seen him. Then the emotion dissipated like fog evaporating in the morning sun.
"She's already hurt me. And she's definitely destroyed you."
He looked aghast, as if I'd slapped him across his gaunt face. "Why do you say such mean things, Nina?"
"Because it's true, Da. She's sucked the life out of you. You're nothing but a frail old man now, with nothing to do but whittle away what time you have left by painting stupid portraits of a malicious woman who's cursed you."
The second the words were out of my mouth, I knew I'd gone too far. But I'd been holding them in so long I couldn't help myself. Although I'd hurt my father, badly by the broken look in his eyes, I couldn't deny a sense of relief at having been able to purge myself. Thoughts I'd been harboring for years.
At last, after a long period of uncomfortable silence, Da raised his head and looked at me.
In his eyes I saw the pain I had inflicted and the shame he felt towards me.
"You constantly say how cruel your mother is, and how you never want to be like her, but you just proved to me, right this moment, how very much alike the two of you really are."
Before I could respond to his accusation, the front doorbell rang. After a few seconds, the door opened and Mrs. Duka called out, "Hello! Jason, are you ready to go?"
Without another word, Da brushed past me and out into the living room. "I'm ready, Dolores. Just let me get on my shoes."
I stayed where I was, leaning against the kitchen counter until I heard the front door open and close again, and I was alone with my shame.
I had hurt my father deeply because of my own impatience of the situation. I wanted him to finally see what was truly going on, but in my haste, I had been cruel. Like her. He was right in that regard.
However much I wanted to deny the possibility, over and over again, I was changing, growing, into the one person I swore I'd never become.
My mother, the dark fae princess of Nightfall.
I'm loathed to admit the fact, but I pampered myself for two hours preparing for my non-date dinner with Severin. I even wore my fanciest and sexiest bra and panties set---black lace. I paid careful attention to my make-up, taking great care to ensure the marks on my neck were camouflaged. Thanks to my fae blood, the wound on my cheek was nearly healed.
Despite the fact I wore a skirt and heels, I drove my motorcycle to Lombardo's. The valet wasn't quite sure what to do with me when I rolled up. All he could do was stare at my legs and the flash of décolletage he was getting from under my half-buttoned black trench coat.
I gave him a twenty and told him to walk the bike to a decent parking spot. He grabbed the money, shoved it into his pocket and did as I asked. Smart boy.
When I went into the restaurant, Severin was already waiting at the table. I checked in my coat at the door, smoothed down the line of my skirt and followed the hostess across the restaurant. Severin stood at the table and waited, a smile on his gorgeous rugged face and a fire lit in his eyes. It took all I had not to turn around and run. Saliva pooled in my mouth and I swallowed it down into my nervous stomach. No matter how I saw him, naked in lamplight or in a dimly lit restaurant dressed in casual chic, the man made my stomach flip over and my thighs clench.
He had to be putting off a ton of pheromones---I heard werewolves could do that. I never reacted to men this way. Never.
When I reached the table, he pulled out my chair. As I sat, he leaned down to my ear and whispered, "You look delicious enough to eat, Nina."
I wasn't sure if he meant it in a sexual way or a culinary way...or both. Either way, his comment was potent. Shivers rushed down my spine and goose-flesh rose on every patch of skin. And I mean every.
Once I was seated, I tried to appear unaffected by immediately picking up the menu and browsing through it. "What's good here?"
"Everything." When I peered over the menu at him, he grinned. He poured a dark red wine into wineglasses. He set one in front of me. "I hope you like Cabernet. This is one of my favorites."
I picked up the glass and sipped. It was a pleasant full-bodied wine and its robust flavor tickled my tongue. Reminded me of Severin, actually. Feeling my cheeks blush, I ducked my head, putting my attention back onto the menu. "It's nice." I finally managed to squeak out.
"You seem really nervous."
"Do I?" My voice rose in pitch but I caught myself before it was too obvious and pretended to cough into my hand. I was usually a cool customer but found myself clumsy in many ways around this werewolf.
Severin wasn't fooled. He grinned over the rim of his wineglass, fully aware that I was flustered. I imagined every woman had the same reaction. The man was sin incarnate.
I glanced around the restaurant and noticed that just about every single woman here stared at Severin. Some men too. Some couples had their heads close and chatted non-stop while peering at our table every now and then. The sight didn't surprise me. Severin was a celebrity in a way.
"Shall we order and then talk about the mating rituals of werewolves?"
I must've gaped, because whatever my face was doing just spurned him on.
He set down his glass and reached for my hand across the table. His thumb stroked the sensitive spot on my wrist where my pulse hammered. "Or I can show you, if you like."
The menu slipped from my other hand and landed on the table with an audible thunk. "Are you always this forward?"
"Life's too short to not say what you mean." He pressed his thumb over my throbbing vein. "I find you extremely attractive, Nina, and I want to have sex with you."
For the first time in a long time, I was speechless. What does a woman say to that?
Yes. Oh hell yes! A thousand times yes!
I pulled my hand from his hold and placed it, quivering, in my lap. My throat had run dry and I wasn't sure if I could form the proper answer. I knew what logic and decorum dictated I should say in a situation like this, but the response battled in my mind with what my body yearned to weep. Instead, I picked up my wine glass and took a sip, trying to compose myself. After I took a hearty drink, I set down the glass. "Um, I'm unsure on how to respond to that."
"An honest response would do."
Blessedly, the waiter took that exact moment to arrive at our table to take our order. I was thankful for the reprieve. The mood was getting way too intense.
"May I take your order?"
Eyes still sparking, Severin glanced at the waiter. "I'll have the linguine chicken tettrazini." He looked back to me. "Nina? What would you like?"
"Angel hair primavera."
The waiter smiled. "That's a great choice."
His smile was a little too wide and flirtatious. I glanced at Severin to see if he had noticed.
Severin gathered the menus and slapped them into the waiter's hands. "Thank you. I'll signal you if we need anything else."
"Right, yes sir." Grabbing the menus in his hands, he scampered away to fulfill our order.
Severin leaned back in his chair and regarded me with his sexy predatory grin. "Now, where were we?"
"Not anywhere I think we should be." I fidgeted with the white cloth napkin on the table, when really I wanted to breach the distance separating us and run my hands through the silky strands of his hair and nibble on his full bottom lip. "Technically, I should've reported you to SEMA. All werewolf sightings are to be called in immediately."
He nodded. "Why haven't you?"
I nibbled on my bottom lip, not sure of the answer myself. "I don't know. Maybe because I don't want werewolves to be scapegoats for everything that's bad in this city."
He watched me for a few seconds again, like he was trying to gauge my words, searching for the truth or lie in them. After a beat, he sat forward in his chair and picked up his glass.
"That's admirable, and I appreciate the concern. But I assure you we werewolves are well protected." He took a sip of wine. A drop escaped his lips, but he managed to catch it with the tip of his tongue.
I watched every agonizing second of the sinuous movement. After managing to ball the napkin into a tight clump on the table, I met his gaze and asked, "Does it bother you when people stare at you all the time?"
He lifted one shoulder casually. "Not really. It's the price, I suppose, for being myself."
"Do you ever regret coming out? Letting everyone know what you truly are?"
He ran this thumb along the edge of the wineglass. "Sometimes. It would be nice to have privacy once in a while." He grinned.
I returned his smile. The expression was infectious. He had such a charming pleasant way about him, I was enthralled. But I was also afraid. And I didn't know where that fear came from, but it was there, deep down inside my gut.
He set down his wine and leaned forward on the table, capturing my gaze. "Would you like to ask me questions?"
"Could I?"
He nodded, looking at me from under his eyebrows. "I'm an open book to you, Nina."
"Okay, what's the function of a pack?" I leaned forward, elbows on the table, careful to keep my voice low so the other patrons didn't overhear our conversation. Rabid curiosity and a sense of purpose chased away the nerves zinging through my body. I no longer felt like swooning. Well, not as much as before.
"A pack is for community. It's the one safe place all werewolves can return for support and understanding. It serves as a family unit."
"And you are the patriarch?"
He smiled. "You could say that."
"So, if say, a member of your pack had troubles, he could come to you and get help?"
Severin locked gazes with me.
My stomach did a complicated floor routine that included a few somersaults and a triple back flip.
"The pack is a family. We help each other like any family would." His eyes darkened a bit, and I had a sense that my question had rattled him. "If your favorite uncle was a lawyer, wouldn't he help you if you ever got into trouble with the law?"
"I suppose, yes."
Wineglass in hand, he swirled the red liquid but continued to stare at me. He touched his cheek with his other hand. "What happened? I can see marks on your face that weren't there before."
I was thrown off by the change in subject, and I had to close my mouth to stop and think about how to answer his question. I thought I'd done a good job of covering all my injuries with makeup. I had a desperate urge to check my face in a mirror. Instead, I raised the silverware and looked at my cheek. Although my head looked like a balloon in the glint of the bread knife, I couldn't see any marks and I knew that they were there.
"I had a little run in with a stray dog." I set down the knife, but continued to fidget.
"Really?" He tilted his head as he studied me. "I don't scent a dog on you at all. There's something else there, an animal possibly, but definitely not a dog."
Could he smell the pixie? I hadn't even thought about that possibility. I had to remember that Severin was not your average hot man, he was a werewolf with a heightened sense of smell, and who knew what else.
"Could I ask you a few more questions?"
He shrugged. "I suppose, but really I came to sweet talk you into my bed."
"You're relentless." I shook my head.
"Yes, I am."
There was another spark in the gorgeous blue of his eyes, and it set off a twin response between my thighs. God, the man was going to kill me with just his looks. He hadn't even touched me yet.
Yet. Deep down inside, I knew it was a forgone conclusion. I knew instinctively that I would eventually succumb to this man's flirtations. "Severin..."
"I'll make you a deal." Arching a brow, he sat back in his chair. "You can ask me three questions about anything and I will answer as truthfully as I can."
I sensed he was playing with me, goading me into something. Unexpectedly, I thoroughly enjoyed the game. "What do you want in return?"
"Your home address."
I blinked, my body gripped in panic. "Why? Why would you want that?"
"I like to run a lot at night. I could stop by next time for a drink," he licked his lips, "or something."
I knew I should say no deal. That he couldn't blackmail my home address out of me. But the truth was, I probably would've given it to him eventually without his bargain. "I can ask you anything, and you'll answer?"
He shrugged. "If I can. There are some things about the pack that I won't divulge, to anyone, for any reason."
"Okay. It's a deal."
Grinning, he picked up his drink.
I picked up mine and we tapped glasses. As I took a sip, I kept his gaze. It was intense and laced with sexual intent. I felt like a gladiator on one side of the coliseum coming face to face with my greatest opponent. Luckily, there was no audience around us chanting for blood. I was having a hard time as it was without the extra pressure.
Before I could ask my first question, the waiter arrived with our food. My stomach growled the instant the plate of pasta was set down in front of me.
"Enjoy," the waiter said as he bowed his way away from our table.
Without ceremony, I picked up my fork and dug into the food. I hardly tasted the first mouthful. After another two forkfuls, I lingered to appreciate the flavor. Now that I could actually taste it, the food was spectacular. "This is really good," I said around another mouthful.
Severin chuckled. "I like a woman who enjoys her food."
I set down my fork, embarrassed that I had been shoveling the food into my mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize how hungry I was until the food came."
"Don't apologize. You should enjoy all of life's pleasures. Food, drink, sex." He lifted an eyebrow with the last word.
I shook my head. "Is it always about seduction?"
"I'm in tune with my baser nature. I revel in as much pleasure as I can get." He smiled. "You should try it some time. It's liberating."
As I chewed another mouthful of pasta, I considered my first question. "Do werewolves mate for life? Like real wolves."
"No. That's a myth." He angled his head again and regarded me in that inquisitive way of his.
I felt so naked when he looked at me like that. Like I'd been split open and laid bare to his gaze. He had that affect, even from the moment I met him. "But I will say this, I am monogamous. When I'm in a relationship with a woman, I'm all hers for as long as she wants me. I don't sleep around."
Despite myself, I smiled. "I'll make a note of that."
"Good."
For the next few minutes, we ate without talking. The experience was nice and not as uncomfortable as I assumed it would be. When I was done my meal, I set down the fork and patted my mouth with the extremely wrinkled napkin. I took a sip of wine and prepared myself for my next question.
The waiter arrived and gathered our finished plates. "Would you care for dessert? The tiramisu is delicious."
"I'd love some."
The razor-like hum of a pager sounded near Severin. Frowning, he pulled the small device from his belt and glanced at the number. Without a word, he set it back but his demeanor had changed. The difference was subtle, but I noticed it like a red flag.
"I'm afraid we'll have that tiramisu to go."
"You have to leave?"
He nodded, already reaching for his wallet.
I glanced at the waiter. "Forget the dessert."
He scampered away with our dirty dishes to fetch the check.
For some reason, my muscles tensed in anger. Like I was being robbed of something. I was pissed at not having the chance to ask more questions, but the sensation was more than that. An empty feeling I couldn't quite name scooped out my insides.
Severin eyed me as he took out his credit card. "You're angry."
I shook my head. "Of course not. I can't keep you from your business."
When the check came, Severin handed his card to the waiter then grabbed my hand to do that thumb-rubbing thing on my wrist. I had to bite down on my tongue to stop from moaning just a little at the sensations zinging through me.
"I owe you dessert."
After he signed the bill, he walked me to the door to get my jacket. As we crossed the room, his hand rested at the small of my back. Enough contact to send a rush of shivers up and down my body. God, how I wanted to lean into that touch, to let him gather me in his arms and press his lips to the back of my neck where I was extremely sensitive.
Once I retrieved my coat, Severin, ever the gentleman, held it as I slid my arms into the sleeves. As he settled it over my shoulders, I could feel the warmth of his body pressed against my back. An involuntary quiver erupted through me. He made no indication of moving from his position behind me, his hands resting gently on my arms.
The intensity of the situation had me swallowing a moan or two. I wanted to sigh in rapture, but instead I bit my lip. The copper taste of blood filled my mouth.
"You," I cleared my throat. It was so damn dry with him near. "You owe me a few questions still."
He chuckled, and I could feel his hot breath on the slope of my neck not covered by my jacket. "I suppose so."
"And I guess you won't be getting my home address."
He shifted then, and I could feel his lips against my ear. I couldn't stop the shudder of pleasure that rushed through me. "I already have it."
I swiveled and stared in surprise.
His smile fading, he raised his hand and cupped my cheek. Staring into my eyes, he ran his thumb over my bottom lip. They parted in response, in anticipation for more. I couldn't stop myself. He was so potent, like a drug that I just had to have.
"You have no idea how much I don't want this night to end," he murmured.
I expected him to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me...no, needed him to. I had an insatiable thirst and Severin was the only thing that could quench it. But he didn't. Instead, he did another sweep of his thumb over my lip, then dropping his hand, he took a step away.
"Good night, Nina." With that, he pushed open the restaurant door and disappeared through it. In a daze, I stood in the restaurant lobby. Not until the hostess came over to ask me if I was okay did I realize I hadn't moved in the past ten minutes. I thanked her for her concern and left the restaurant.
By the time the attendant returned with my bike, my body had stopped shaking, my knees almost felt like they could support me again. My reaction seemed like I was going through withdrawals and Severin was my heroin. The crazy thing was we hadn't even kissed yet.
If this was what he could do to me now with only the slightest touch and hint of sex, I didn't think I would survive a more intimate encounter. Having sex with Severin would most definitely kill me.
\*\*\*
As I drove home, I realized my body was just as revved as my bike. The vibrations of the seat between my legs didn't help matters any. By the time I got home, I knew I'd need a cold shower to purge the desire that Severin had mounted inside me.
I made a right turn and, glancing down at my gas gauge, realized I needed to top off the tank in order to make it home. I spied the Petro on the corner, pulled into the lot and up to a pump. As I filled my tank, I glanced around the station.
There was only one other person pumping gas. A heavy set woman quickly screwed the cap back on her tank as she eyed me. Her gaze was intense and I had to lower mine. She was making me a bit nervous.
Once my tank was full, I hung up the nozzle and sensed movement. I heard the scuff of boots on concrete. I glanced up to see the woman walking toward me, her face set in an angry scowl.
"I can see you, you know," she said, her hands resting on her hips and standing about three feet away.
I finished putting the cap on the tank, and went to grab my helmet. "Well, I am standing in front of you."
She frowned, and the expression set deep ridges in her high forehead. "I can't believe you're under his protection. It's not right."
"I'm sorry?" I fiddled with the strap on my helmet. "I don't think I know what you're talking about. Do you need some help? I'm a nurse."
This offer had her spitting on the ground. "Don't need anything from the likes of you."
I smirked. "I really think you have me confused with someone else."
"I know exactly who you are. And the time will come when he can't protect you, Ubel einer." She turned on her heel and returned to her vehicle. She opened her door but before she got in, she cried, "When the war comes, I'll be waiting for you."
With that, she got into her car, turned the engine over and peeled out of the station.
I watched her go, completely flabbergasted into silence. What does a person say to all that? I hadn't a clue what she was talking about. I was sure she had me confused with someone else. But with the way she regarded me, as if she could truly see through me, to my deepest part, I shivered, thinking maybe not.
And who was he? God? Maybe she'd been a religious fanatic and didn't like my looks.
I slid on my helmet, and got back on the bike. I needed a drink when I got home. It had been one hell of a night.
Tired and stressed, another headache brewing behind my eyeballs, I parked the bike after twenty minutes on the road, in the garage then trudged to the side door. House keys in hand, I yawned, thoughts of my comfy bed in my mind. Inserting the key, I was about to turn it when I heard a rustling noise behind me. I swiveled around---keys positioned between my fingers as a makeshift set of brass knuckles, and scanned the surrounding bushes and shadows.
I sensed somebody or something watched me. Goose bumps rose on my arms and on the back of my neck. "Is someone there?"
Severin stepped out of the shadows, a long-stemmed red rose in one hand and a white Styrofoam box in the other. He smiled. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"Yeah, I think you did." I didn't lower my hand.
His grin faded. "Something's changed." He tilted his head to look at me, his gaze roaming my stance. "I smell fear. Are you afraid of me?"
I shook my head, but I knew it was pointless, he could smell my emotions. He already confessed to that fact.
"I brought you some dessert. I thought I owed you at least that much." He offered the Styrofoam box.
"What is it?" I asked, still not moving from my spot.
"Rum chocolate cheesecake."
My resolve softened a little. I loved cheesecake---it was my favorite dessert. But I really hoped he guessed and that he truly didn't know that fact about me. The knowledge would push him into the obsessive, stalker type of man. I didn't really want to push him there. I wanted to like him. I wanted liking him to be safe and sane. Not dangerous and foolish.
I took the offered box, and relaxed a little, letting the keys dangle loosely from my fingers. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
I glanced at my watch. Only an hour had passed since we parted ways at the restaurant. "You finished your business pretty quickly."
He shrugged. "Couldn't concentrate. I had other things on my mind." He lifted one eyebrow.
His look was one of pure hard hot lust. "Did you really come all this way to give me dessert? Seems a little creepy."
He smiled again. "Yeah, you got me there." He moved toward me, a slow easy step. "I didn't really come to give you dessert."
The sexy smile put me more at ease. I could feel his presence as he took another step forward. Only three feet away and already I felt the heat of his body caressing mine. I shivered but not because I was cold. "Why then?"
"To give you this."
I froze when he breached the distance between us and cupped my right cheek. With my three-inch heels on, I was eye-level with him. His eyes looked black in the shadows. But I swore, as he gazed at me, they deepened even more.
Only seconds ticked by but they stretched into an eternity before he moved in to brush his lips against mine. Only the barest of touches but it sent a jolt of pleasure zinging through me. All the way down to the tips of my toes. My legs wobbled and if I hadn't had valued my dignity, I would've dropped right there and then in front of him.
As it was, I used all the reserve I had not to moan.
He leaned back, and then stroked his thumb over my trembling lips.
"Is that it?" I hadn't meant to say it quite like that, but my mind was in a bit of a fog from his brief kiss.
He chuckled. "Hell no, that's not it." His head lowered.
This time, the kiss wasn't soft or brief. It was a long, thorough sweep of his tongue and lips. I did moan this time, as he nipped at my bottom lip, then traced the tip of his tongue over mine.
He tasted how he looked. Wild. Sexy. Dangerous. Delicious. I could've kissed him forever and not ever tire of his flavor.
I dropped both my keys and the dessert and fisted my hands into the fabric of his shirt to hang on as he deepened the kiss. Lips brushed. Tongues lashed. Moans exchanged. The sensation was hot and wet and wonderful. I could've feasted on his full mouth all night.
But then something happened.
My skin began to glow. Not a light radiance caught in the rays of the cascading pale moonlight. Nothing romantic like that. No, it was a full-on, from-the-inside-out shine.
Thankfully, I kissed with my eyes open. If I hadn't, I would've missed it when my hands, fisted in the fabric of Severin's shirt, started to radiate a bright white color. I suppose it wasn't so much white, as an extremely pale blue-gray. Either way, I knew it was a problem. My chest clenched.
Breaking the kiss, I pushed Severin away and hid my hands behind my back. I prayed under my breath that the rest of my body wasn't glowing.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I'm sorry. I feel sick."
He looked amused. "I've never had that reaction before."
I shook my head. "It's not you. It must've been something I ate earlier." Bending down, I snatched my keys from the ground and turned toward the door, making damn sure he couldn't see my hands well.
He moved toward me, stopping to pick up the Styrofoam box. "Here. Let me help you."
"No," I blurted. "I can do it. Thanks." As I struggled to unlock my door, a sudden jolt of pain zigzagged down my spine. The ache was so intense, I gasped.
Severin reached toward me. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I just need to get inside." I managed to push open the door, and then stumbled in after it. Severin was right behind me, my dessert and my purse---I hadn't realized I had dropped it---in his hands.
Another flash of pain rushed down my back. My vertebrae felt like they were snapping off my spinal cord like Lego pieces. Snap. Snap. Snap. Squeezing my eyes shut, I had to gain my balance by grasping the table in the entranceway. God, it hurt like hell. Searing dark pain that made sweat pop out on my upper lip.
Severin rested his hand on my shoulder. "You're in pain. I can feel it."
"Please, Severin, just go. I'll be fine."
He set the box and my purse on the entrance table. "Nina, I can help you. I come from a very old race, probably older than you realize. We have healing powers."
I glanced at him then, and saw the concern and honesty in his face. I appreciated it. But this was something no one could help me with. This was from something deeper inside me. My fae side. My mother had warned me years ago that this would happen.
Gritting my teeth from another slash of agony ripping through me, I managed to say, "I appreciate the concern. I really do. But I'm fine."
He knew I was lying, but decided not to press me. He ran a hand over my head, stroking me.
God, how I wanted to lean into his touch, to experience his caress on other parts of my body. But I remained stoic. I needed him to leave and quickly.
"You can trust me."
I didn't respond, just kept his gaze, breathing heavily through my mouth. I wasn't ready to trust him. I wasn't ready to trust anyone. Not with this.
After a final searching look, he turned and went out the door, shutting it behind him. The second he was gone, I sunk to my hands and knees and took in several ragged breaths. I thought I might throw up from the pain surging through me.
The skin on my hands still glowed, but it was starting to dim. I watched as it faded and softened until the color was back to my regular alabaster pale.
As the color ebbed, the pain also started to fade. When it had subsided enough that I could stand, I climbed the stairs to the bathroom as quick as I could go. I clutched the railing, afraid my shaking legs would fail to support me.
Once in the bathroom, I tore at my dress, pulling it off in a quick tug. I turned and tried to look at my back in the mirror. From the pain that had rippled through me, I swore my skin had cracked open to expose the muscle and tissue beneath.
But as far as I could see the skin was still intact. Still smooth and pale. Nothing had split open my back.
Sighing with relief, I splashed cold water on my face, and then pulled my dress back on. I went into the hallway intent on going back downstairs to eat the cheesecake Severin had brought me. Suddenly, I was ravenous. My stomach growled in agreement.
But as I took two steps toward the stairs, I stopped. Something on the wall gave me pause.
I stared at one of the many paintings my father had created. One of his watercolors. About the only one I allowed him to put up on the walls--because it didn't remind me of my mother.
No, this one sort of reminded me of me.
A woman stood in a meadow of wildflowers in a long flowing dress. Her long black hair blew from an unseen wind. Birds nested in the tree next to her. The sky was a brilliant blue with fat puffs of white clouds floating nearby. The picture was beautiful.
But my stomach clenched at what had been painted behind the young woman. A blanket of shadows hovered behind her and above her head. Shadows that had a distinct shape. A sweeping whimsical shape.
That of wings jutting from her back.
And just like that I lost my appetite.
\*\*\*
Darkness surrounded me. The sensation was thick and oppressive, and I subconsciously wiped at my arms, hoping to slough off its weight. I was in a forest; the trees pressed together, twisted limbs intertwining and reaching for me. Moonlight barely passed through the heavy canopy overhead. I could see my hands and my feet as I walked, but not much else.
But I could hear and smell everything around me.
Branches snapped underneath my feet. The popping echoed, bouncing off trees and scraggily bushes, sounding much louder than it should have been. The strong odor of wet moss and leaves wafted upward on a puff of cool night air---and underneath that was the smell of rot and decay mingled, making my nose twitch.
Other noises and scents swirled around me. Things I couldn't discern or identify. Fear crept over me like a bunch of baby spiders scurrying along my skin, and I wrapped my arms around my body, shivering. I didn't know where I was or when I was but somehow the sights all seemed familiar. Like I'd run through these woods before.
A groaning sound from my right gave me pause. I turned toward the noise, not sure of what I'd see. Then came another and another, as if someone old and stiff was pushing out of a rocking chair to stand and having a difficult time.
I took a step to my right, frightened but curious at what might spring out in the dark. I kept walking until I came to an enormous oak tree. Even in the gloom, I could see how huge it was, both tall and wide. I didn't think I could wrap my arms around the trunk.
Something about the tree called to me. I leaned closer, inspecting the patterns the rough bark made along the base, questioning what I'd see. Splaying my hand wide, I pressed it to the wood. Unexpected warmth radiated from it.
Startled, I snatched back my hand. My palm was still warm and tingly. I peered down at it to see if I'd accidentally touched something toxic. But the skin was clear and pale like it always was. Nothing visible was burning me.
Another groan sounded. It was much louder and seemed come directly from the tree itself. I took a step back and glanced up the towering length of the massive oak. Thick leafy branches were moving, slowly sure, but they were moving, and I didn't feel a wind strong enough to do that. They swayed on their own.
I took another distancing step back from the tree. Heart hammering and whole body shaking, I watched transfixed as the tree trunk split open like a peapod. The tearing sound was like a crack of lightning had struck nearby. A sizzle of something electric in the air skimmed over my skin, causing the little hairs to stir.
Sap ran down in rivulets along the bark---like blood running from an open wound. I had an urge to reach out and press my palms to the opening to stop the tree from bleeding, thinking somehow that my gesture would save it from what was about to happen.
Pieces of bark moved and twisted, forming some kind of pattern. At first, I couldn't discern the shape. It was foreign and alien to me. But after another minute of turning and forming and molding together, I knew what I was staring at.
A face.
The surface of the tree stopping moving and I leaned closer to get a good look at the face formed in the wood. Two horizontal slits that had been formed in the shape cracked open. And they blinked. "Nina..."
The voice came from the tree, from the mouth forming in the face. Astounded, I stumbled backwards, tripping over a large rock and landing on my ass on the hard dirt ground.
"Nina..."
The tree face burst from the tree and with it came a wooden body, twisted and malformed. A limb reached toward me, its fingers like spears.
I scrambled on the ground, trying to get away. Terror seized me and I could barely breathe.
The body stumbled closer, moving faster than I thought possible. I tried to turn to gain my feet and run, but its hard warped fingers grasped my arm. I swatted at it, not wanting to touch it but knowing I had to. But as I did, I made the mistake of looking up into that malformed face and saw my father's beloved features.
"No!" I screamed, blind with panic, swiping at my arm to get it away.
"Nina. Nina, it's all right. I'm here."
My father's voice sounded so clear, so normal. But it was a trick. The tree creature was trying to trick me. "Get away!" I flailed my arms and kicked out with my legs.
"Nina. Stop!"
The voice's adamant tone gave me pause and I risked a peek at the wooden golem, afraid to gaze at it again but knowing I had to.
My father gazed back down at me. He was holding my arm and sitting on my legs.
Confused, I looked down at myself. I wasn't on the ground of the woods but in my bed, twisted and wrapped up in my sheets. Turning my head, I saw that I was in my room, maybe at dusk by the slight gloom outside the window.
"Da?"
He nodded, his face pale, his eyes sunken and dark. He looked like he hadn't slept in a few days. "You're safe, Nina. I got you, my girl. I got you."
Relief spread through me like a rush of furnace heat. Closing my eyes, I collapsed back into my bed and took in a huge breath of air. I relaxed my arms and legs and stretched them out. Already, I could feel the ache in my muscles that would come from all my thrashing about.
"Bad dreams, darling?"
I opened my eyes and blinked up at my father. "The worst."
He patted my leg. "You're okay now."
"Am I sick, Da?"
He nodded. "I heard you getting sick the other night. You could hardly walk, so I brought you to your bed. You've been feverish for over twenty four hours now."
I ran a hand over my face. My skin was sweat slicked and warm. "Is there water?"
He reached over to grab a water cup from my bedside table and handed it to me.
I raised my head and took a few sips then handed it back to him. I couldn't remember the last time I was sick. Maybe over twenty years ago. Maybe never.
"Did the hospital call?" In all the years I'd worked there, I'd never taken a sick day. At least, not until all this stuff with my father had happened.
He nodded. "I told them you quit."
"What?" Maybe I had heard him wrong.
"I told them you weren't ever coming back." His mouth spread into a wide smile.
I sat up, confused, angry. "Why would you do that?"
He tilted his head and regarded me. I found it strange how he was looking at me. A maniacal kind of gleam lit his eyes. "Because you're dead, Nina. You drowned in the pond in the garden, remember?"
I recoiled in horror. Scrambling away from his words and what he was saying to me. I shook my head. "Da, you're confused. You don't know what you're saying."
His grin grew bigger, wider, impossible for his facial shape.
I could see bits of green between his lips---it looked like algae, wet and dark, stuck in his gum line.
"Nightfall is coming for you, darling. It's pointless to fight it." He grabbed my arm hard, his fingers digging into my skin.
I tore at his hand, trying desperately to get away. But he had a strong hold on me. Impossibly strong.
As I ripped and tore at him, he just smiled, as if we were play fighting, as if I was five and he was the tickle monster trying to make me giggle uncontrollably. But I wasn't laughing. No, I was screaming.
Especially when green tendrils, like ropey vines, burst through the back of his hands and wrapped around my wrists.
"Stop fighting, stupidz girl," he slurred as he pulled me close.
I continued to fight, but lost all reason when the leafy vines exploded out his eyes and shot towards me...
"Da!" I screamed as I bolted straight up from my bed like a wooden board.
Gulping in air, I looked around, my hand pressed to my chest trying to keep my heart in. I was alone in my bedroom. Frantic, I swirled around, searching all corners of my room, but my father was nowhere to be seen.
Sweating profusely, I ran my hands down my chest to my legs which were tangled tightly in the sheets. Like a cocoon, the cotton fabric hugged me tight. I felt constricted and tied down. Yes, the sensation was like someone had wrapped me up in rope---in vines.
It was dream. An awful horrible terrifying nightmare. But a dream just the same.
Once I could breathe properly, my lungs burning less, I shoved aside the sheets and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I wore my white cotton nightgown which was stuck to my body from what seemed like buckets of sweat. I was feverish and had been for the past day or so. For the first time in my life, I was sick. In a flash, the memories flooded back.
After the night Severin had visited me, I had fallen ill. Sick to my stomach, I'd vomited for hours. Feeling weak and dizzy, I couldn't stand. My dad had found me on all fours in the bathroom and he had helped me to my bedroom. And there I'd remained until now.
I knew my dad had come and checked on me now and then. I sensed that he had, even if I didn't totally remember it. Briefly, I remembered him sitting beside me on the bed and crying. His tears had dotted my hand. I could still feel the salty liquid on my skin.
Unfortunately, the dreams were still fresh in my mind. Those I remembered. Fevered chaotic dreams about the woods and talking trees and violence and blood and cold water that screamed my name. If I took a deep breath, I knew I'd still smell the cloying metallic tang in the air.
Pushing up to stand, I shuffled across the room, still feeling weak, but not as dizzy, not as out of control. I checked in my father's room, but he wasn't there. I padded down the stairs and into the living room. He was fast asleep on the sofa.
I didn't have the heart to wake him. Even in sleep, he looked worn out and tired. I'd probably given him the biggest scare of his life. A sick daughter who'd never been sick a day in her life.
I rubbed a hand over my belly. It rumbled under my palm, reminding me that I hadn't had anything in it in a long while. I went into the kitchen. Tea would be good. As I filled the tea pot and turned on the stove, I stared out the window toward the garden.
The moonflowers were starting to unfurl their petals. Soon the night would be full dark. A time for those who moved in the shadows to come out and play.
My gaze stayed on the ground where I had filled in the pond. It was still filled. The dirt hadn't been disturbed. But as I looked, I fully expected something to burst through the soil. A hand maybe. A scaly pale hand with long blackened claws.
They were coming for me. I could feel it in my bones. Not long before I faced my destiny. My destiny with those creatures from Nightfall.
\*\*\*
Although I wasn't feeling one hundred percent, I returned to work the next day. Diana met me at the beginning of my shift at the triage desk and insisted I get a check-up. I agreed, not realizing that she would pull me into an unoccupied examining room that very second.
"Sit." She patted the examination table.
"I'm fine, Diana. I really don't need to be checked out. It was just the flu."
She pinned me with her steely no-nonsense gaze. "I've known you for years and you have never been sick. Not once. Not even the sniffles. You've probably never even had a yeast infection." She unhooked the stethoscope from around her neck. "So, when I hear you're so sick you can't even talk on the phone, I get a little concerned."
I jumped up onto the table, realized I'd never once sat on one. Never had to, as I'd never been to see a doctor for any illness. In fact, I'd never been for yearly exams either. My mother, of course, knew there had been no point. I wasn't even born in a hospital. My mother had a mid-wife at the house.
"Open your mouth," Diana directed.
I did and she checked the usual things---glands, tonsils, tongue color, saliva consistency. She then ran her fingers over my neck just below my ears, feeling for the same things. She checked my ears and my eyes, then put on the cuff to read my blood pressure.
Naturally, everything came out perfect. Diana would be hard pressed to find anything wrong with me.
"All right. I'm going to listen to your heart."
She had me turn a bit so she could lift up my shirt enough to get her hand and stethoscope under. She pressed it to my back and listened. After a few minutes, she moved the plate around.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I spotted the instant concern on her face.
"What the...?"
I slid off the table in a flash, tugging down my tunic.
Brows wrinkled, she frowned. "Nina, I think you should let me look at your back. I felt..."
"I'm fine, doc, like I said. Nothing to be concerned about."
She hooked the stethoscope back around her neck.
But I knew it wasn't the end of her examination. She could be dogged. I'd seen her in action time and time again. Some of the nurses thought she was a grade-A bitch, but I knew she was just gruff and did what was needed to get the job done.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"About what?"
"One in five women will suffer some sort of domestic abuse. It's nothing to be ashamed about."
I laughed, full guffaws erupting from my mouth. Relieved in an odd way, that she thought I was being abused and not sprouting into some monstrous aberration.
She flinched, obviously offended by my laughter.
I put my hand on her arm to reassure her. "I'm not being abused, Diana. I'm not even in a relationship."
"Your father...?"
I put my hand up to stop her next words. "Don't even go there."
"But your back. It didn't feel normal, Nina."
"I know. I've always had an abnormally bony back. I'm actually quite shy about it. I haven't worn a bathing suit in a lot of years."
She looked at me for a long time, scrutinizing me.
I've seen grown men with doctorates shrink under that steely gaze. But I was not a man, a doctor, or even human. Her analysis was lost on me.
"All right," she finally said, "Let's go save some lives, then." And like that she opened the examination room door and left me to it.
With a sigh of relief, I walked out of the room and returned to the triage desk. Just as I grabbed my first patient chart, my cell phone trilled from my pocket. I slid it out and checked the number. Not one I recognized. But I answered it, in case the call was about my father. "Hello?"
"I was worried about you."
Was it wrong that Severin's sultry voice made my knees weak? "I just had the flu. Nothing serious."
"Hmm, you don't seem like a woman who gets the flu."
Before I could even consider that statement and its meaning, he was talking again.
"What time does your shift end?"
"Six."
"I will be there to pick you up at six oh one."
"That's very presumptuous. And what if I would like to shower and change my clothing first?"
"You can shower at my place. I have a very nice shower with side jets. At least three people can fit inside."
I really hoped that wasn't a glimpse of the future, or an innuendo. "I drove my bike to work. I won't leave it here."
"Don't worry about that. I got that covered."
"Maybe I don't want to go to your place."
One of the other nurses gave me a funny look as she walked past. I was sure that my cheeks were on fire. Severin had that effect on my body. Just hearing his sex-dipped voice ignited everything inside me. I licked my lips, remembering the kiss we shared the other night.
"Sure you do. You're interested in the pack, aren't you? There's a gathering at my place and I'd love for you to be there."
Surprise ran through me. "Why? Why me, I mean?"
"You're more than the sum of your parts, Nina. You're more than you can even know." He paused for a beat, then continued, "Besides that, I want you and I mean to have you."
Those words had my belly clenching hard. "That simple, hey?" I rubbed a hand over the ache in my chest.
He chuckled. "I'm of the firm mind that nothing will be simple with you. I'll see you at six."
Then he was gone, and I held a dead phone, awestruck and dumbstruck. Not until that same nurse banged her clip board against the desk did I finally move. I closed the phone and slid it back into my pocket. Turning, I gave her a little smile then continued on my way---to the waiting room to call the next patient.
By the time six rolled around, I had a raging headache and was running a fever. Strangely enough though, I didn't feel sick. Not like I had before. Despite that, I didn't think I'd be much of a date. Something was definitely off with me.
When I walked out the main hospital doors, Severin was there, waiting for me. My heart leapt a little when I noticed him leaning against a really nice motorcycle. As I approached, I laughed. "You sure know how to impress a woman."
"Yeah, but you're not just any woman." He pushed off the bike and swept his arm toward it. "Do you like?"
I ran a finger over the shiny black tank. "Hell yeah, I like. It's an Interceptor, what's not to like?" I'd been drooling over one ever since the model was released. I just didn't have the cash to purchase one. Obviously, Severin did. Who knew an associate professor made so much money?
Giving me one of his sexy grins, he dangled the keys in front of my face. "Want to drive it?"
I made a face, excitement thrumming through me. "Hell yeah, I do. But what about my ride?"
"You drive mine and I'll drive yours."
The way he said those simple words made the suggestion sound extremely dirty and naughty. And tempting. This I liked.
I tossed him my keys and motioned down the street. "It's parked about half a block from here."
"I'm sure I can find it." Clutching my keys in his hand, he jogged down the sidewalk to search for my bike.
In the meantime, I marveled at his bike then slid my helmet over my head. Feeling freer than I had in weeks, I swung my leg over the seat. Once I was happily settled in, I stuck the key in the ignition and turned it on. The bike roared to life and I grinned. The engine was rumbling pleasantly between my legs as Severin rolled up next to me. My red bike looked good under him.
He flipped up the dark visor on his helmet and smiled. "Ready?"
"Lead the way. I'm right behind you."
For the next half hour, we sped through the city streets. Sometimes one after the other, other times side by side. Most of the time, I let him lead because basically I didn't know where we were going, but the urge to shoot out in front constantly weighed on me.
By the time we slowed, we were out of the city proper and into a picturesque suburb with lots of greenspace and trees. Not surprisingly, Severin pulled the bike into a long driveway that wound its way up to a large two-story with woods at its back. I supposed a werewolf needed his running room.
He came to a stop at the front door and parked. I did the same next to him. He slipped off his helmet, hung it on the handlebar, and gestured to the house. "Welcome to chez Saint Morgan."
"Impressive." I took in the two-story colonial, knowing in his market it had to be worth at least a million large. "I didn't realize lowly university professors could afford such extravagance."
He held out his hand. I took it and he pulled me towards the front door. "It belongs to the pack in a way."
"And because you're the alpha, it belongs to you?"
"Yeah." He opened the door and led me through.
The front foyer was large, could have easily fit twenty people all jostling to remove their shoes so as not to dirty the gleaming tiled floor. Severin led me down a short corridor past the swooping staircase, to the kitchen. And what a kitchen. The room was enormous and made for cooking, and eating while visiting, which was exactly what was going on when we arrived. But the moment we entered, all talk and movement ceased. All eyes, five sets, were fixed on me instantly. I sensed the curiosity and the animosity of my arrival.
"You can't be serious bringing her here?" This from a heavy-set woman sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen island. A woman I recognized from the gas station the other night. The one that threatened me.
I stared at her, too stunned to say anything.
Severin squeezed my hand. "Do you question my authority, Roz?"
The woman dropped her gaze, but not the sneer on her lips. "No, not your authority, Alpha. Your dick, maybe."
That sent a ripple of snickers through the room.
I glanced at Severin to see his reaction, expecting anger. But he seemed unfazed. Amused even.
"My dick is not pack business." And with that, he pulled me through the kitchen, out the patio doors, and into the backyard.
Several more people visited outside. At least another twelve. They also stopped what they were doing and stared at me.
"Why is everyone looking at me?" I quietly asked Severin.
"Because they see you."
"Well, yeah, I am standing right here."
He turned and regarded me with something akin to amusement. "They see you, Nina, for who you truly are."
I didn't respond to that statement. I wasn't sure what to say. Could they see the fae in me? Was that a werewolf thing? Did Severin really understand that I wasn't one hundred percent human? "I'm pretty sure I don't know what you mean."
He searched my face, tracing a finger down my cheek to my chin. He smoothed it there for a moment then dropped his hand, giving me a half-smile. "Let's get you that shower I promised and some food."
Not entirely sure what just transpired, I followed Severin back into the house. Although I felt like I was somehow on display, that Severin was parading me about in front of his pack, I couldn't muster enough anger to make a scene. Being around Severin unnerved me but the closeness also had a calming effect. A sense of the familiar. As if my most inner being recognized his and approved of such a pairing.
It didn't hurt matters either that I was quite eager to see that exquisite naked form of his again. And if I had to be scrutinized by a bunch of werewolves for that to happen, then so be it. I was no wallflower. Intimidation didn't work on me. If they truly did see me, then they'd know I wasn't a woman to be trifled with.
\*\*\*
Severin's exquisite shower was no boast. The enclosure could easily accommodate three people, and there were water jets coming from every angle. I took full advantage of that luxury. When I finally stepped out of the glass box, my muscles felt like warm moldable clay. I hadn't been this relaxed and unguarded in a very long time.
He had laid out a soft white terrycloth robe for me, and I slipped it on and padded out of the ensuite and into his enormous bedroom. He was there waiting, full wineglasses in hand.
"I took the liberty of setting the table out on the balcony." He handed me a glass. "The evening is gorgeous."
I followed him out onto the balcony where there was an intimate table for two set with what looked like expensive stainless steel cutlery and fine china. He pulled out my seat for me, I sat, and he lifted the lid on my plate to reveal grilled salmon, mushrooms, and a rice pilaf. My stomach rumbled at the sight. "It looks amazing, thank you."
"One of my pack is a gourmet chef. He works at one of the expensive restaurants downtown."
"Really? Who else are you hiding in the pack?"
He cut into his steak and blood seeped out across the plate. "Two doctors, a lawyer, a professional hockey player, three actors, and a city official." He popped the piece of meat into his mouth, smiling around it.
"Doctors, hey? They don't work at my hospital, do they?"
He shook his head.
"Wow, that's impressive." I sipped the wine. "Are they all here tonight?"
"No." He ate more food.
I leaned back in the chair and took it all in. The food, the house, him. The items were a lot to consider.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say your pack is very much like a mob." I expected some surprise or shock on his face at my accusation, but there wasn't any.
He just patted his mouth with the linen napkin and sat back in his chair with his wine and studied me over the rim. "Every member of the pack pays a yearly tribute to the Alpha. In turn, the Alpha provides protection and other benefits, some of them monetary."
Surprise lifted my brow. "How much is the tribute?"
"Depends on the member's financial status, but anywhere from a thousand to three thousand a year."
"And how many in your pack?"
"That I can't share with you, but let's say anywhere from thirty to seventy."
"Wow. And all that money goes to pay for this?" I gestured to the house, the private treed backyard.
"In a way. That money is invested in various ventures. Some of these ventures are very lucrative."
"So it's like shares in a company?" I smiled, finding the information all fascinating.
He nodded, and returned my smile. "You could say that, yes."
I finished the wine and set the glass on the table. "Why are you telling me all of this? It's obvious other members aren't happy about my appearance."
"Because I trust you, Nina."
"Is it because I'm not human?"
The second the admission was out of my mouth, I knew that I had planned to reveal my true nature to Severin from the very beginning. Something about him was unsettling but at the same time, he instilled a sense of the old and familiar within me. As if we had done this dance before.
He gazed for a long moment, and then said, "That's part of it."
I couldn't sit any longer. I pushed up from the table and stepped back into the room. Severin was there beside me, stopping me from leaving altogether.
"It's okay, Nina. Your secret is safe here."
"How long have you known?"
"Since the moment I saw you."
I rubbed at a spot on my brow between my eyes. The headache was doing its damnedest to make a roaring comeback. I closed my eyes for a second then opened them to regard Severin. "How do you know? Do I look different?"
"You glow, like a firefly."
"Is it because you're a werewolf?"
He nodded. "We can see everything. The things that hide in the shadows, and those that hide in the light."
"Like me." I sighed.
"Yes, like you."
I stepped around him to go to the bathroom to collect my clothes. "I have to go."
He followed me in, and then grabbed my hand to stop it from picking up my shirt. "Stay. Please. I didn't mean to upset you."
"It's just that, I've never told anyone. For my entire life, my true nature has been kept a secret."
"I know what that's like, Nina. To not be your true self. To not share it with anyone. It was like that for us before we came out, so to speak." He brushed his fingers through my hair. "I know how lonely that can be."
"I've always been cautious when it came to men. I've always been afraid to do to them what my mother did to my father."
His fingers brushed my ears then along my chin as he cupped my cheek in the palm of his hand. "You've definitely struck me, Nina. But I won't grow old and wither to nothing like a human. You can't hurt me in that way."
I stared him in the eyes and saw the truth of his words there. For the first time in my life, I felt free to let my guard down and let my fae-ness show.
A smile spread across his face. The gesture was slow and sexy and made my skin tingle pleasantly. "There you are. There's the real Nina." He turned me toward the large mirror over the sink.
My skin glowed. A bluish light radiated outward from my body like a visible aura. The sight was beautiful. I was beautiful. My hair shone like polished onyx and my eyes like twin full moons. I smiled at my true nature. For the very first time, I wasn't ashamed.
From behind me, Severin's hands feathered down the length of the robe to the belt. Deftly, he unknotted it, then pulled apart the two halves. He pulled the robe over my shoulders and let it pool at my feet. My body was luminescent. In the mirror, I could see his eyes darken as he drank his fill of my naked form.
"You are breathtaking." He pressed his lips to the back of my shoulder.
I turned in his arms and wrapped mine around his neck. "Someone in this room has on too many clothes." I traced the tip of my tongue along his bottom lip then nipped playfully.
Burying his hands in my hair, he tilted my head to one side and took my mouth with his. He sucked my tongue between his lips, playing and teasing and tugging. Heat filled my body, swirling like a typhoon, building into a tight ball at my very center.
His kiss left my lips swollen and achy. I wanted more, to kiss him until I went numb. But instead, he swiveled me around to stare into the mirror.
Pressing his lips to the sensitive spot between my neck and shoulder, Severin's hand sought my flesh. He trailed his fingers over my stomach, and up toward my breasts, until finally, gloriously, he molded them with his palms.
Staring at the mirror, I couldn't tear my gaze from the image of us together, his hands on my body, flicking and pulling on my taut nipples. I trembled against his body, reveling in my own pleasure. I hooked an arm around his neck to give him more room to maneuver.
Jolts of hot pulsing pleasure rushed over me as Severin nibbled on the side of my neck. One hand moved down, circling my navel with just the tip of his finger, then down to brush against my sex. I quivered at the briefest touch. Gasping as he lowered his caresses, my knees nearly gave out when he slid his fingers into the heat between my thighs.
His breath came in hot hard pants in my ear as he slid his fingers up and down my slick cleft. All my muscles quivered as he stimulated me. A hard liquid ball of heat swelled deep inside, swirling, twirling, always moving. Not much more was needed for me to climax.
Severin moved his hand from my sex to grip my thigh, pulling it up; he bent my leg and set the heel on top of the counter.
Spread wide, I could see every inch of my most intimate flesh and see what he was doing to me. My heart hammered in my throat as his fingers filled me.
He trailed his tongue over my ear and moaned. "Mmm, you're so hot. So wet."
Transfixed, I watched as he manipulated me, glorying in the decadence of the action. Breath hitching in my throat, I could hardly stand. Every muscle in my body shuddered and quaked, desperate for more, desperate for Severin to take me hard and fast.
"I can't hold back," he groaned. "I need to be inside you now."
Faster than I thought possible, he tore at his clothes. His shirt went flying one way, as his pants and shorts went the other. The actions would've been comical if I wasn't trembling for him to enter me.
Shifting his position, he cupped me with one hand, his other hand gripping my hip. Slowly, he entered me, filling me. I arched my back to take in more of him. I wanted...no, needed him to fill me completely.
Once fully seated, he started to move, thrusting in hard and dragging out slowly, as if to torture me with his delicious languid pace. Although I desired him to hurry, to bury himself totally, I bit down on my lip and let him have his way with me. Control was not easy for me to give up, but I gave it to him. I let him control the pace and dominate my pleasure.
Thrusting deep, he cupped me, sliding fingers along my core, rubbing at my clit. In anticipation, I gripped his neck tight. I hovered on the edge, so near to orgasm. With each ragged breath, I could already taste the rapture in my mouth.
His pace increased, riding me hard. Moaning, he rammed into me again and again, digging his fingers into my flesh. As he thrust forward, I pushed back. I'd lost control of my body, it wanted to take more, give more. So much that I was lost to my pleasure.
With one final grunt, Severin drove in deep. Everything around me exploded. Sound and sight became a garbled kaleidoscope of sensations. The experience was damned beautiful. A sphere of colored light swirled around my chest then receded back into my body. Spectacular.
I took in a shuddering breath and tried to move, but all my body parts shuddered in response. Severin was still inside me. I could feel him moving again. Stirring. His desire was insatiable.
As if to demonstrate that fact, he pulled out, flipped me around, and picked me up, his hands molding my ass cheeks. Without any effort, he carried me into his bedroom and tossed me down onto the bed.
The look in his eyes---both dangerous and delicious---stole my breath. I scrambled backwards on the mattress, as he crawled towards me, his eyes dark, gaze fixed on me. I swallowed hard. It looked like he wanted to eat me. Not that I would've minded much.
My body thrummed with desire and power. I was electrified by the intensity of the energy pulsating through me. I felt powerful, invincible. When Severin neared me, kissing me hard, I wrapped my arms around him, and flipped him onto his back. I straddled him within seconds.
Pushing him down, I quickly had his long hard length sheathed inside me. Control was mine now. I would take what I wanted.
Slow at first, then gaining a frantic rhythm, I moved on top of him. As the power surged through me, I lifted my arms to the sky. I left like I was soaring. The sensation of flying was so real, I had to open my eyes to make sure I was still moving on top of Severin and not spinning wildly in the night air.
He reached for me, setting large hands on my breasts.
I wondered if he could feel the wild beat of my heart in his palm. Release was mine to be had. Heat built deep inside. My thighs trembled in anticipation. My orgasm was so close. I reached down to spread my hands over the hard smooth plane of Severin's chest, possessing him...
Something tore inside me. As the skin on my back split open, a scream ripped from my throat. The slow dribble of fluid between my shoulder blades made me shudder.
"Nina?" Severin tried to grab me.
But I was off him and the bed in a second. The pain made my head swim in darkness. I stumbled about the room, unconsciousness threatening to take me under the waves of agony. But I wasn't having it. I wouldn't bow down; I wouldn't break. My body was mine. I owned it. I wouldn't let this transformation shatter everything I'd worked to become.
Severin came near me. Caution made his movements slow and deliberate. "Nina. Let me help you."
I put my hand out to ward him off. "Keep away." More blood dripped down the back of my legs to dot the bedroom rug beneath me.
"I know what's happening to you. It's the transformation. Werewolves go through the same agony. I know the pain and confusion you feel."
Tears streamed down my face as another convulsion rippled through my flesh. The sensation was as if my atoms were rearranging themselves from the inside out.
"Don't fight it, Nina. It's natural. You're becoming."
"Becoming what?" I hissed, clutching the wall so I didn't collapse to my knees and retch all over his nice clean rug.
"Your true self."
"Well, I don't want it. I don't want to be this." I spat out the last word.Eyes wild, I searched the room. "Where are my clothes? I need them. I want to go home."
"You can't drive home."
Fresh tears spilled from my eyes. Absolute despair threatened to overwhelm me. "I want to go home. Please, let me go home."
Another wave of body-racking pain surged over and through me. A thousand blades slicing my flesh at once. I panted through it, squeezing shut my eyes and digging my nails into the wall. They left divots.
"I'll get your clothes, but I'm driving you."
I didn't argue with him. I couldn't think beyond the tearing and ripping. The thing inside me was persistently destroying every inch of my flesh. Every nerve ending, every muscle and fiber, every strand of DNA that fit together to make me, screamed. I was no longer Nina Decker, trauma nurse, but N'lina, princess of the dark fae.
Then the darkness swooped up from the floor and swallowed me whole. I became one with it as I was absorbed inch by inch. Light couldn't even penetrate my fugue. I was lost, groping blindly in the black. Hope abandoned me. I had no illusions that I would ever make it out again.
Then a voice reached me through the abyss. The sound touched me and I opened my eyes. I blinked groggily out into the night.
"Nina?"
I thought I saw Severin looking my way from behind the wheel of a car. Concern crinkled his brow.
"We're almost there, love. You're almost home."
Home. Did I know what that was? A place. A feeling. A person waiting for me.
"Da?" Did he know what was happening?
Severin nodded. "Yes, I'll take you to your father."
There was a sudden lurch forward in the car, and then Severin opened his door and jumped out. Next thing I knew, the door next to me opened and he pulled me out. Was I even walking? I couldn't feel my legs. My whole body was numb.
He had my keys and he unlocked the door, all the while juggling me in his arms. He nudged open the door and carried me inside. He laid me on the sofa in the living room on my side.
A shudder racked my body. It nearly lifted me off the cushions. Severin grabbed a blanket from the back of the sofa and covered me. I wanted to tell him I wasn't cold. That in fact, I was on fire from the inside out. Sweat coated my face. I swore I could smell my flesh sizzle.
"Nina?"
My father came into view and I tried to smile, but my mouth wouldn't move. Instead, I lifted my hand and reached for him.
He looked at Severin. "Who are you? What's wrong with my daughter?""
"I'm Severin Saint Morgan, a friend. She's becoming."
My father's eyes widened. Frightened, he looked down at me, his gaze racing over my body.
"She's finally changing into the beautiful creature I created."
The new lilting voice made me cringe. Another shudder sent convulsions over my back. Through the sweat dripping into my eyes, I saw her as she stepped into the room to stand beside my father.
My mother had returned.
"Hello, my darling." She smiled down at me, her lips a thin line.
I wanted to retch.
Then her intense gaze fixed on Severin and she snarled wickedly, "What are you doing here?"
Severin squared his shoulders, looking her in the eyes. "I brought her home."
"How dare you subvert my daughter."
"I haven't. Not yet. But she needs to know the truth," he countered.
"The only truth there is to know is that your kind is cruel, ruthless, and bloodthirsty."
Severin smiled, but the gesture was not kind. "I believe you are mistaking me for you, A'lona."
My stomach roiled as I listened to their banter. I heard the words, but their true meaning was beyond my scope as more pain cascaded over me like molten lava.
"Get out!" she shrieked. "Get out of this house!" She pointed a long elegant finger toward the door.
Severin glanced down at me, his eyes narrowing in concern.
I could do nothing but wriggle my fingers toward him. I wanted to say something, to ask him to stay, but no words formed in my mouth.
He reached down and touched my fingers, one by one, then with one last scathing look at my mother, he left, slamming the door behind him.
Don't go. I opened my mouth to call him back but nothing came out except a series of unintelligible gurgles.
My mother dropped to her knees beside me and stroked my sweaty face. "It's okay, N'lina, I'm here. I will help you through it, my daughter."
I shook my head. I didn't want her here. I didn't want her love and comfort. I didn't want to be her daughter. But I couldn't tell her. Not when I was dying, my flesh betraying me and turning inside out. Pain ripped through me again. I bowed my back, scrambling away from the searing agony.
She continued to brush her fingers over my forehead and cheeks. "Go to sleep, my darling. Go to sleep and let your body do what it must."
Sleep was the last thing I wanted. That would mean letting go, and I had no wish to do that. But the darkness had other plans. It crept close, floating up from my chest, to settle inside my mouth, my nostrils, and my eyes. It slithered its sinuous ways into my head. Took hold of my mind. And squeezed until I passed out.
\*\*\*
Again I was in the darkened woods walking along a dirt path. Glancing down, I noticed I was wearing a green tunic that fell to my knees and I was barefoot. I wriggled my toes in the soft sandy dirt. It tickled and I wanted to laugh, but I didn't and kept on walking.
Not long before I came to a shallow brook that cut a narrow path through the wood. I sensed this was where I'd wanted to go. My feet longed to feel the cool tingling of the water. So, I sat on the water's edge and settled my feet into the stream.
A sense of overwhelming peace and comfort settled over me. As if I had traveled a long distance and finally returned home.
Content, I leaned back on my hands and kicked my legs in the water. Much like I had when I'd been a kid and on the one family vacation I remember taking with both my parents. We'd gone camping, and the trip had been the one time when I'd felt completely happy.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed colored lights downstream, dancing above the water. Eager to see them, I sat straight and watched as the twinkling lights drew nearer. Once they were directly in front of me, I saw tiny humanoid shapes in the lights.
"Gladflies," I said aloud, and smiled.
I held out my hand and one purple glow settled onto it. The tips of its tiny purple feet tickled my palm. I peered down into the tiny spritely face.
"N'lina," it tittered, its voice like a tiny clear bell. "Beware."
"Beware of what?"
"The water."
I glanced past the gladfly to the brook. Nothing menacing appeared in its shallow depths. "Nothing is there."
"Something is always in the water," it trilled again then flitted off my hand to dance away with the others along the stream's edge.
Curious, I leaned forward and peered into the clear water that was only a foot deep. Even in the dark, I could see the rocks that lined the bed. Nothing looked like it could harm me.
But as I watched, the rocks and pebbles jiggled and jumped, coming together to form a shape. I peered harder and spotted a face. The face of my mother. And she was sneering, her face twisted with cruelty.
"N'lina," she shrieked, "Stay still!" Then her hands, made of flesh and bone, burst from the water, grabbed my head and pulled me under.
I thrashed about, struggling to pull away from her hold. But she was unnaturally strong and the water somehow grew deep and bitter cold, siphoning the heat from my body. Water filled my mouth and nose as she forced my face under. The action was as if she sat on my back and pushed on the back of my head.
I tried to push up with my hands but the rocks beneath me offered no leverage. They were slippery with algae and I couldn't get a solid hold. More water filled my mouth, and I could do nothing but swallow it. My lungs quickly filled, replacing the oxygen I needed to breathe.
Desperate for air, my chest burned. I thrashed about but my energy drained. My mind grew dark. Not long before Death claimed me for its own. With one last desperate effort, I bowed my back, trying to force away my mother. But the pressure and the pain were too immense.
I screamed, my voice gurgling in my throat, knowing it would be my last...
"Nina." I heard my father's voice. He sounded panicked and distressed.
Surprised I could still move my limbs, I reached for him in the darkened waters. I was even more surprised to feel his fingers curl around mine.
"Nina." His voice was clearer, right next to my ear. His visage floated to me on a ripple. "You'll be okay. Do as your mother says. Don't fight it."
I groaned. "No, Da. She's killing me."
Cool fingers brushed my face. "Let go, darling. Let go."
I squeezed my eyes tight, afraid to let go. I'd worked my whole life to establish control over things---my job, my love life, my body---it wasn't easy to relinquish that, especially to someone I hated with all my heart.
Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw my father kneeling next to me, his face pale, his eyes filled with tears.
"Da?" Confused, I looked past him and saw that I was in my bedroom, face down on the bed. Moonlight streamed in through the open window. A warm breeze ripples across my skin, making my shiver.
Movement jostled the bed. I turned my head to see my mother, her face drawn, her eyes dark and determine, sitting cross-legged beside me, her hands resting on my bare back.
"Don't touch me," I hissed, trying to move away.
She held me firm. "Don't fight, N'lina. It's more painful when you do."
"My name is Nina."
She gave me a sympathetic smile and ran a hand down my back. "Relax and let them come through."
I was about to demand what "they" were, but the rippling of the skin between my shoulder blades reminded me I didn't need to ask. With absolute certainty, I knew what was coming. What was trying to rip and tear out of my flesh and skin.
Just to spite her, I wanted to fight it, but I was beyond exhaustion from the constant agony in my back. So, I shut my eyes and took in several deep breaths, letting them out slowly.
"That's it. Relax."
I breathed in. Then out. In then out. As I did, the pain receded a little. Enough that my skin didn't feel like it was going to crack open like a burnt hot dog.
"Is she going to be all right?" my father asked.
"Yes, but could you get us some warm wet towels, Jason. The transformation will get messy soon enough."
That statement made me open my eyes. I glared at my mother. "Why are you here?"
"Because you need me."
"Where were you when I was twelve and got my period in the middle of math class? Where were you when I lost my virginity to Josh Logan when he told he loved me and then never called me again? Where the fuck were you then, huh, Mother?"
She met my gaze, and the glare was cold. "You didn't need me then, Nina. Not really. You had your father. He's always been there for you. Besides, you're so much stronger than you realize."
I struggled to my elbows. "If you tell me that you abandoned me for my own good, and all that has made me a better person, a stronger one, I will drag you out to the pond in the back and drown you."
She flinched at that, but didn't respond. "But tonight...tonight, I'm the only one that can see you through this."
As if to punctuate her words, a spasm in my back hit me so hard that I nearly shot off the bed. Would have if she hadn't been holding me down.
She ran a hand over my shoulder blades and between them. "When the pain comes again, don't move. It's almost there. Your skin is thin enough now. They will break through."
Bile rose in my throat. I was going to vomit. But I didn't get a chance before searing pain shot through me. The flesh under my skin rippled. It took everything I had to lay still and let it happen.
I twisted my hand in the sheets. Sweat popped out on my forehead, to drip down my temples. As another wave of agony surged over me, I bit down on my lip. The tang of blood filled my mouth. Salty and metallic, it reminded me of what was happening inside of my body. The blood would be flowing soon.
Another wave came. And another. Until my skin undulated and bubbled, as if some kind of creature existed just below the surface. And I suppose that was basically true.
My back was now a plane of movement and pain. I could feel my skin begin to stretch and tear, as something pushed through. Sweat stung my eyes and I dug my fingers and toes into the mattress. Tears gushed down my cheeks. Actions were involuntary now. My body was doing whatever it could to combat the pure dark torture that assaulted it.
"They're coming, Nina."
I could barely hear her voice over my own groans and pitiful mewls and the heavy panting I was doing.
It didn't matter anyway. She didn't need to tell me they were coming because I could feel them rupturing my flesh, splitting my skin in two. The sound of severing sinew and tissue assailed my ears.
And I screamed...
There was a final liquid sound then a rush of blood cascaded down my sides to soak the bed sheets and mattress beneath. The pain diminished. Then it was done.
"Jason, the towels."
I felt the sweet relief of warm wet cloth as my mother and my father wiped away the residual evidence of my transformation.
Barely able to move, I strained to lift my head and glanced back over my shoulder and saw what had been causing me so much pain and anguish. So much trepidation and horror.
My fae wings. My crowning glory.
They weren't as large as I thought they'd be. About three feet long and one foot in width, they were almost dainty in size. Beams of moonlight played over them, making the purple and blue shimmer like disco glitter. The gossamer veined with silver membranes was nearly transparent---like wearing a pair of fragile stained-glass panes on my back.
Tears rolled down my mother's flushed cheeks. "So beautiful. So perfect. They are just like mine." She smiled, looking at me with a pride I'd longed for my whole life.
Except I felt no pride. Looking at the protrusions on my back, I felt only revulsion and shame. "Da, get the hacksaw and cut these things off."
My mother gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.
Her look of abject horror nearly made me laugh.
"Do you hate what you are that much?"
I wanted to say yes, but the truth was I only hated the fae parts I got from her. The rest, well, I loved and cherished.
As if realizing my thoughts, she said, "Do you hate me that much, Nina, that you would disfigure yourself, cause yourself that much more pain just to spite me?"
I didn't answer her, but looked away, resting my head back onto the mattress, and sighed. I refused to feel the guilt that bubbled inside me like acid. "How do I hide them?"
She gave me a little nod. "I will teach you, but first, you should sleep. Your body needs the rest."
I didn't argue, but closed my eyes and let sleep take me away. At least for a little while, I wouldn't have to think about how to keep a pair of faery wings from friends and the people I worked with. I wouldn't have to think about how to hide from an entire society that feared the unknown.
\*\*\*
When I woke, I was in the same position I'd been when I went to sleep---on my stomach in my bed, a pair of wings protruding grotesquely from between my shoulder blades.
Groaning, I pushed up to sit on the edge of the bed, my pounding head in my hands. The aching felt like I'd been on a week-long bender. I glanced behind me at the bed and winced. The sight was like a slumber party massacre had taken place. I would have to replace the mattress for sure. That much blood didn't scrub out with any type of cleaner or manual labor.
I stood to get dressed but realized I had no clue how to get a shirt over my newly acquired appendages. Instead, I walked to the full-length mirror I had in the corner to inspect my new look.
From the front, the wings rose about two feet over my shoulders. I turned to the side and studied them. As wings went, they were delicate and pretty. But not something I was overjoyed to be shackled with. How the hell was I going to do anything with them in the way? My whole life I'd been trying to hide my alienness but these, these things just popped up and proclaimed, "Hey, I'm not totally human."
"They essentially disappear when you glamour them."
I whipped around to see my mother framed in the doorway. My hands rose to cover my boobs. "Jesus, don't you knock?"
"Apparently not." She came all the way in, and handed me a tea cup.
I looked in at the thick pea green concoction swirling around. The brew smelled worse than it looked. "What is it?"
"Glamour. Drink it and your wings will vanish from sight."
"Will I still feel them?"
She nodded. "Physically, you'll know they are there. But no one else will be able to see or feel them."
Wrinkling my nose at the horrid stench, I put the cup to my mouth and drained the liquid in one healthy swallow. My stomach lurched at the foreign intrusion. The drink tasted even worse than it smelled.
Astonished, I watched in the mirror as my wings slowly turned invisible. I moved side to side, from front to side. They were gone from view, although I could totally "feel" them poking out of my back. I reached over my shoulder and brushed my hand through the space they should've occupied. Nothing.
My mother tossed me a tank top.
I pulled it over my head and pushed my arms through. It went on unhindered.
"I'll show you how to make the tincture. You'll need to grow the Anise in your garden. The moonflowers and fir needles are already flourishing. And the rest you'll have to bargain for."
"Bargain with whom?"
"Nightfall."
"That's just perfect." I groaned, and rubbed my chin. "How long does it last?"
"Twenty-four hours."
I stared. "That's it? I'm going to have to drink this shit every day for the rest of my life?"
"Yes, if you want to keep the illusion that you're human."
"I am human." I tossed the words at her, as I brushed past to head downstairs.
She followed me. "But you're not, darling. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better off you'll be. Maybe you'll actually find happiness in your life."
"Stop calling me darling. You gave up that right years ago." I stomped off the last step then marched down the hall to the kitchen. She was right behind me. "And I am happy."
She ignored that, and said, "Fine. I deserve that but what we need to really talk about is Severin Saint Morgan and why he was here last night."
"No, we really don't." I opened the fridge and took out the milk. My body desperately needed food. I took down the box of cereal and poured some in a bowl, adding the milk.
"How well do you know him?"
I looked at her as I shoveled cereal into my mouth. "You acted as if you knew him."
"I do."
I set the bowl down, not trusting my hands to hold it still. "How?"
"He's not who you think he is, Nina. He's dangerous to you." She waved her hand around the room. "He's dangerous to us all."
"And when you say us, you mean?"
"The fae."
I scoffed. "That's ridiculous. Doesn't even make any sense. He's a werewolf; he's like what, thirty-five years old at best. The fae are thousands of years old. And you, you're, I don't even know how old you really are." Having lost my appetite, I dumped the cereal down the garbage disposal in the sink.
"I'm over two hundred years old."
I glanced her way, not really that surprised. "Figures."
"I should've told you our histories years ago. There is so much you don't know, that you need to know. Especially now."
Sighing, I looked up and out the small kitchen window. Movement outside caught my attention. "What's Da doing?"
"Fixing the garden. It was in a terrible mess."
"The mess was to keep you people out." I walked around her to go out the patio doors to the backyard. "Da! Don't dig out the pond."
The second I reached his side, I knew I was too late. The slight rippling of the water in the circular pond taunted me. Even the frog was back, roosting on his rock perch and staring upward.
"Damn it, Da. Now they can come through. Don't you remember the little pixie bugger that tried to kill you?"
He wiped at the dirt on his sunk-in cheek. "You worry too much. We're safe now."
"Why, because she's here?" I flung my hand toward my mother who stood watching nearby. "She's the reason for everything."
"I did not send that pixie, or any assassin."
"Who did then? You must know."
She shook her head. "Doesn't matter now. I have made sure that you and your father are safe."
I glared at this woman I'd despised for so long. "Excuse me, if that doesn't really make me feel any better. You've been absent most of my life, so I'm pretty sure you don't have my best interests at heart."
Her features fell. A wounded look clouded her usually bright eyes. "Oh darling, if only you knew the truth."
"Save your words. I probably wouldn't believe it, even if you told me."
My father put a hand on my shoulder. "You're so stubborn, Nina. If only you would listen for a moment, you'd realize how unselfish your mother has truly been."
That made me gape. "Unselfish? Are you serious? Oh Da, not only has she taken your soul, she's taken your mind as well."
He snatched back his hand, his face twisting in anguish.
Guilt stabbed me hard in the chest. I reached for him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
He shuffled out of my reach and went to stand by my mother. She put an arm around him. The perfect defense against an insolent daughter.
"You have no idea what I've given up for you, Nina. What I've suffered just to love your father, just to give birth to you. Some in the community wanted me to abort you." She shook her head. "You're so hard, so jaded. Your attitude is probably my fault, but it breaks me to see you this way."
Her words had an effect. I didn't want them to matter, but they did. Had I built such a granite wall around my heart, around my mind, that I had no care when others suffered? Had my hatred for my mother ruined any chance for me to really feel?
"Has Severin already corrupted you?"
Again, she brought the conversation back to him. I frowned. "What has he got to do with any of this?"
She reached for my hand.
I let her touch me, confusion and guilt diminishing my usual stoniness.
"He's using you. He knows who you truly are, and he wants to use it for his own gain, for his pack."
I wanted to deny it, to scream in outrage but something caught in my mind. A kernel of truth was in there somewhere. I thought maybe I had always known something nefarious existed with Severin and the too-convenient way we'd met.
"Werewolves can see the fae," I offered as an excuse as to why he knew who I was. "He told me that."
"Yes. The werewolves and fae have learned to identity each other over the past three thousand years. A good practice is to truly know your enemies."
The blood drained from my face. Three thousand years? Could it be possible? "Enemies? You're telling me that werewolves and the fae are at war or something?"
She nodded, her look was fierce, determined to make herself understood. "For over a thousand years, our two races have been at war. As of late, a truce had been signed, but that was two hundred years ago, and the terms are fraying at the edges. The werewolves are planning something." She squeezed my hand. "And you, my daughter, are in the middle."
I pulled away and paced the garden, my bare feet sifting through the warm soil. My heart thundered and I was having difficulty breathing. This was all too much to take in. First, I sprouted wings, now I was supposedly in the middle of a supernatural war between two races. If I didn't know better, if I hadn't seen the things I had crawling out of my pond, I would've said this was all a bunch of crap. But I did know better. I was a member of one of those races, whether I liked it or not.
But even after all that, the situation seemed much too convenient to have happening all at once. And much too convenient that my mother was telling me all of this now. I whirled and pointed. "Why are you really here?"
"I told you."
"You just happen to show up all of a sudden. Just as I'm about to change, just as I'm becoming involved with Severin."
"I'm your mother. I could sense the change upon you. That was why I came home." She stretched out her arms toward me. "For you, Nina."
Not sure what to believe, I could only shake my head. I dug my toes deeper into the dirt, hoping to draw clarity from the Earth. Maybe she would help me see the truth. Because ultimately, I didn't fully believe my mother. She may have come to help me, but there was a secondary purpose to her sudden appearance.
"I can see your doubt, daughter, so to this I challenge. Ask him yourself. See if he lies."
\*\*\*
Scalding hot water pounded my face and body as I stood under the showerhead. I was hoping to wash away the past few days. Since I could still feel the presence of my wings, fluttering slightly in the spray on my back, I knew the thought was only wishful and nothing more.
After my mother had challenged me, I'd escaped to the house to find some perspective. I'd yet to find any, even after spending twenty minutes in the shower scrubbing at my skin, trying to get clean again. Soon the water would go cold.
I cranked off the tap then pushing the glass door open, I stepped out onto the bathmat. I toweled off, concerned I might disturb my wings. Since the glamour was still in effect, the wings almost didn't exist. If only that were true.
Slipping on my robe, I padded into my bedroom just as my cell phone trilled from its perch on the dresser. "Hello?"
"What the hell is going on?" The caller was Diana. "You told me were you weren't sick. In the past two weeks, you've taken four sick days. Something is going on, Decker. Spill it."
Sighing, I rubbed my face, not sure what lie to tell her. The insufferable woman would pick now to take an avid interest in my life. "It's nothing serious, Diana. I swear."
"Bullshit. You're lying. Is it your dad? Is his condition getting worse?"
She gave me an out and I went with it. "Yes," I lied, "He's had a few terrible days."
She sighed. "I understand. I've covered for you with the admin, but next time just tell me the truth. I can be an ally, you know. I'm not as big a bitch as everyone thinks I am."
"No one thinks you're a bitch, Diana." Except for maybe half the nursing staff, but I kept that knowledge to myself.
"No, it's all right. I am a bitch. But I can be a pretty resourceful one if need be."
I laughed. "Okay. I'll remember that next time."
"Good. Now, when will you be back in?"
Looking in the mirror, I shrugged my shoulders. No wing tips shot up over them. They weren't visible although I could still feel them. I hoped my mother made enough glamour to last a few days, so I could learn to make my own. "Give me another day."
"Done." Then she disconnected.
I set down the phone, and then picked it up again, noticing I had ten missed calls. All from Severin.
I dreaded the thought my mother was right about him. But I couldn't escape the feeling that some of what she'd said had rung true. From the second I'd met the werewolf, I'd known he was dangerous. I'd just didn't have the wherewithal to understand the how or the why.
I tapped his name on the phone screen then pressed the call button.
He answered on the second ring. "I've been thinking about you."
"Are you at home?"
Silence. "I can be."
"We need to talk."
"I know."
I disconnected and set down the phone. Vertigo surged over me, and I grasped the dresser to keep from tilting over. I sensed my entire world would shift unpleasantly in a direction I'd been avoiding my whole life.
An hour later, I steered my bike up to Severin's front door. He'd had it delivered back to my house when I'd been going through my transition. His thoughtfulness touched me deeply. Now, I parked it, hung my helmet and went up to the front door which opened before I could knock.
Severin stood there in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt looking gorgeous and delectable. Even now, with the knowledge that he may have been using me, that he may betray me in every way possible, I still wanted him.
Without a word, he tugged me to his body and wrapped his arms around me.
I inhaled his spicy wild scent, noticed that his arms went around my waist avoiding my wings altogether. "You can see them, can't you?" I pulled out of his hug.
His gaze flicked over my shoulders. He nodded.
"Did you know who I was when I met you? I know you saw me as fae, but did you know my name, my position?"
"Let's sit." He gestured to the hall behind him. "Then we'll talk."
I followed him down the hall, thinking we were going to the kitchen, so when he opened the door on his right and entered, I was surprised. The room was obviously his office. It had a big oak desk, leather chair behind it, a leather sofa along one wall, and floor-to-ceiling bookcases, jammed tight with books of all sizes and ages. Some tomes looked really old. And knowing that the werewolves have been around awhile, I wasn't surprised too much to see them there in Severin's collection.
I sat on the sofa and watched him warily.
He walked to a mini-bar in the corner. "Do you want a drink?"
"Just water, thanks."
He opened the mini fridge, took out a bottle of water and brought it to me. He sank down into the sofa with his own drink, scotch by the smell.
I set down the bottle without taking a sip. "So, did you know?"
In one gulp, he drained his glass and set it, empty, on the table. "Yes. I knew."
My stomach knotted into a hard ball. "Is that why you approached me? Was our meeting a set up?"
He looked at me a long moment and licked his lips.
And I had my answer. He didn't need to say it. I pushed to my feet. He grabbed my arm before I could escape out the door.
"Nina, it's not that simple. If I could explain..."
"I won't be a pawn in this war, or whatever it is. I won't let you use me against my mother, or the fae or for any reason." I jerked from his grasp, drawing on a well of strength I didn't realize I possessed.
"You have every right to hate me right now, but please know that I didn't intend to hurt you in any way."
"What did you intend then? Use me for information? Play me against my mother? Get your rocks off with a fae? Parade me around like some warprize?" I balled my hands into fists, afraid of using them on him. "You preyed on me, Severin. You stalked me, hunted me down and pounced when I was vulnerable."
"It wasn't like that."
"What was it like then?" I enunciated each syllable with cold precision. I wanted to cut him to the core with my words like he had me with his actions.
He rubbed at his face. Muscles twitched along his jaw line. "At first, I needed to get close to you, to see what you knew about the fae's plans." He licked his lips again. "You were the first fae I'd seen on this plane. I thought maybe you were a scout, a first wave."
"First wave of what?"
"Invasion."
"What?" I gaped, too stunned to comment further. I turned and marched out of his office. I'd heard enough of his delusions. He was more paranoid than my mother.
He followed right on my heels. "Nina, wait, please."
"I'm not listening to any more of your lies." I kept walking, waves of fury surging through me. "First my mother, now you." I reached for the door and flung it open.
Severin stepped into my path, blocking me. "What did A'lona tell you?"
"The same shit you're telling me, except your pack is doing the planning and the plotting."
He frowned. "She's lying, Nina. I've known the fae for a long time. They are untrustworthy, manipulative and are always scheming in the light. They're looking for a way to come back to this realm. They want to rule again."
"Get out of my way or I'll knock you out of the way."
Severin reached for me again.
Wrong move. With all the energy I could feel swirling inside like a tornado, I aimed. A bright white blast of energy shot out from my chest and hit him square on, catapulting him backwards about four feet.
He landed on his back on the cement driveway right next to my bike.
I didn't wait for him to recover but stomped to my ride, and slid on my helmet. After mounting the bike, I turned it over, revving the engine. As Severin gained his feet, I gunned it and, scorching the asphalt, shot out of his driveway.
I drove like a fire lit my ass. My anger dictated how fast I drove. With expert precision, I wove in and out of traffic. My sole purpose was to get home as fast as I could and have it out once and for all with the bane of my existence. My mother, the fae princess.
She would tell me everything, whether she wanted to or not. The time had come to learn about my heritage. I wanted to know everything there was to know about the fae. Time I accepted my legacy.
Once home, I headed straight for the kitchen. "Mother," I called, my voice echoing off the walls.
The kitchen was empty and clean. No dishes on the counter or in the sink. I dashed upstairs, checked my father's room. Empty as well. I stopped on the landing and listened for a moment. The only sounds that drifted to me were the ticking of the wall clock in the living room and the usual creak of the roof as the breeze blew against it.
I swallowed down the lump in my throat. Something was wrong. I could sense it deep in my flesh and bones.
I bolted down the stairs through the kitchen and out into the backyard. With each step across the lawn, my heart thudded harder and faster. As I stared at the newly restored pond in the garden, my skin grew clammy
The usual still surface rippled and a green warty head surfaced. The frog jumped onto the rocks linking the water's edge. Dread filled me and I shuddered. I looked down at the fae messenger and noticed something white clutched in his mouth.
My hand shook as I reached down and plucked the thin roll from its grasp. I unrolled the message and read.
My darling N'lina,
I know you won't understand and you will hate me even more, but I have taken your father to Nightfall. I need to protect him from the werewolves and from our own people. He knows too much and I fear he will be executed for that knowledge.
Only here can I use all my resources to keep him safe. One day, I hope you will understand.
I have always loved you.
A'lona
A cold fist closed around my heart and squeezed hard. I could barely breathe from the intense pain.
Letting the note fall from my fingers, I tore at my leather jacket and tossed it to the side. I spied the iron hand rake next to the tomatoes. I snatched it up and stepped into the pond. However I could, I would get back my father.
Cold water came up to my knees. I'd expected to sink down into it, but nothing happened. I moved through the water, digging my boots into the dirt and rock bottom. Still nothing.
"Why isn't it working?" I demanded of the frog. The amphibian let out a gruff croak as it stared. Bulgy eyes blinked stupidly then the frog hopped away.
I splashed water in its direction. "Help me, you son-of-a-bitch!"
Desperation clawed at me. I jumped up and down in the pond, bringing down my feet hard. I kicked and splashed and yelled until I was soaked from head to toe and the garden was caked in mud and bits of grass and leaves. Tears stung my eyes but I refused to let them fall. They wouldn't help me now.
"Nina?"
I swung around to see Severin, his face drawn and pale, crossing the lawn. His hands reached out toward me.
The tears fell in a torrent. "The portal's closed. I can't get through."
Gently, he clutched my arm and drew me out of the pond. He hugged me tight, brushing a hand over my wet hair. He murmured into my ear. "I got you, love."
"She took him," I sobbed, my heart breaking. "She took my father to Nightfall."
"Shhh." He soothed a hand down my arm and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "I'll help you, baby. I'll help you get him back."
"Can you open this portal?"
"No, but I can help you find another one."
My anger dwindled as he held me. Everything I'd been holding in over the past two weeks, the past twenty years, came out in a messy rush. I twisted my hands in his shirt and purged years of hurt and anger and frustration.
And once I was done, I would gather everything I needed to go into the fae realm of Nightfall and rescue my father from the fae, from my mother, once and for all.
\*\*\*
My neck was tight, and I tilted to the right and cracked it.
"Are you all right, Decker?" Diana asked as she peered over the clipboard she'd been writing on.
I nodded. "Good to go." Giving her a fast grin, I grabbed the next patient chart and went about my work. She watched me, likely not believing one word of it.
I walked to the waiting room and called the next patient. My back itched something fierce and I struggled not to rub up against the wall to relieve it. My wings were bothering me.
Luckily, my mother had brewed a few days' worth of glamour. She'd also left the recipe on the counter. So I knew my wings weren't visible, but I could sure feel them. They were constantly fluttering. The iron in the walls of the hospital might've infected them with the itchies. I didn't know, and I certainly didn't have anyone around to ask about these things anymore.
Two days had passed since I discovered my mother kidnapped my father and took him to the land of the fae. I was no closer to finding him than I was then. I had spent that entire day digging in my garden trying to find the portal. Severin had helped. But the passage was firmly closed. There was no getting to Nightfall through the pond.
Severin had told me of other ways. Other portals. Other means of gaining entrance. So I let him help me. Not that I trusted him any more than I had before. He had his own reasons for helping me. I had no doubt one was because he did have honest feelings for me, but other motivations were present. Ones that likely had to do with this supposed mounting war between the werewolves and the fae. I didn't give a shit about the war. They could tear each other apart. I just wanted my father back.
In the meantime, I had to maintain some semblance of a normal life. I couldn't just disappear and expect nothing to happen. Diana would definitely come looking for me. She was persistent. And more concerned about me than I'd realized.
So, after I did my shift at the hospital, I'd go home and pore over the books Severin had lent me. The books were ancient, some from the tenth century. I didn't question what he told me because the pages were yellow with age and crinkly.
Their age didn't mean much to me either, just what was inside. That mattered. They were the histories of the fae. And I hoped that inside them would be the answers I needed.
My shift ended without incidence and I went home. Adjusting to an empty house was hard. My father had always been with me. First, he took care of me, and then when he fell ill, I was there to take care of him. Now, he was gone.
And I was alone.
I made some tea and toast, and sat in the kitchen to dive into another of Severin's books. As I sipped my drink, I flipped through the aged pages, marveling at how long the fae have been around and how ingeniously they have hidden themselves among humanity.
Then I came across something about portals between this world and Nightfall. And everything clicked into place.
Leaving the book open where it lay, I sprinted upstairs to my bedroom. I tore open the top dresser drawer and tossed out clothing, item after item. Underneath it all was a small wooden box. I took it out and opened it. Inside on green velvet laid a miniature castle. The object had once been inside a snow globe given by my mother.
Heart twisting with an old pain, I palmed it, and then ran back downstairs and out the patio doors to the garden. I threw open the shed doors and grabbed the shovel. With spade in hand, I loomed over the tomato plants. I had to keep the moonflowers for my glamour, but the tomatoes could go. I dug them up, tossing the plants to the side.
Then I dug a deep hole, plunked the castle inside, and covered it all up again. Tossing the shovel to the side, I sat in the dirt next to the mound.
With the moonstone my mother had given me, I had created the pond. I had created the portal. And I would do it again.
I didn't know how long it would take, but I had patience. I would wait for as long as I had to. Then when the portal opened, I'd go down to the realm of Nightfall and rescue my father from those who meant him harm. Including the one person who had started this all. My mother.
I would wait until the end of eternity to have my revenge.
"Nina?" I looked up and saw Severin standing at the edge of the garden. "What are you doing?"
"Making another portal."
He glanced at the mound of dirt in front of me. "How long is it supposed to take?"
"I don't know."
"What will you do when it opens?"
"Go and get my father."
"It's going to be dangerous. Nightfall is nothing like you've seen before."
I narrowed my eyes. "You've been there?"
He nodded. "Many years ago."
"How many?"
"Close to two hundred."
Too numb to be shocked, I shook my head. "You look good for being ancient."
He laughed. "Werewolves age differently, as do the fae."
"Well, I really am only twenty-eight."
"Yeah, but in three hundred years, you'll still look twenty-eight."
I just shrugged. I didn't want to think about the implications of living that long. The fact seemed so unnatural. I wasn't prepared to contemplate it. Not yet. Not now. Other pressing matters needed to be figured out. Like what to do about the sexy werewolf in front of me.
Severin stepped into the garden and knelt beside me.
His presence sent a wave of pleasure over me. I wondered if it would always be like this between us. Would I always react to him in this way? Even when I was angry.
"I'm serious about wanting to help you, Nina."
"Why?"
"Because I have feelings for you."
I met his gaze, searching his face. Just looking at him was devastating, he was so gorgeous. And I couldn't stop the little quivers in my belly as his scent filled my nose. "I don't know if I can trust you."
He cupped my face in his hand, running his thumb over my bottom lip. His touch ignited something deep and primal inside me. "I'm sorry for lying to you, for keeping things from you. I won't make the mistake of doing that again."
I looked into his eyes and saw the truth there. Relief shot through me. "I'm afraid to do this alone," I confessed.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead, lingering there, drinking me in. "You're not alone, Nina. I've found you. I'm not going to leave you to do this by yourself."
I nodded, and he moved to sit beside me in the dirt. He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close.
"What about the pack?"
"They think I'm betraying my kind for you."
I turned to look at his face, searching his expression. "And are you?"
"It doesn't matter." Leaning in, he gently pressed his lips to mine. "I'm here with you. That's where I want to be."
"I'm glad you're here."
The breeze kicked up, sending the moonflowers swaying. I watched them as they spiraled on their stems. Their movement was kind of how I was feeling. Twisted. Not sure which way to go. Unsure if the way I was bending was the right one. Although I had strong feelings for Severin, I still wasn't sure I fully trusted him. But I needed the help. I couldn't enter Nightfall on my own.
So for now, I sat with Severin, his arm tight around me, making me feel safe and warm and secure, in the garden and watched the hole I'd dug. Watching and waiting for the moment when I'd lay everything on the line and go into Nightfall to face my destiny.
\*\*\*
About the author
2008 Romantic Times Reviewer Choice Winner and Canadian author, Vivi Anna likes to burn up the pages with her unique brand of fantasy fiction. Vivi always writes fast paced action-adventure with strong independent women that can kick some butt, and dark delicious heroes to kill for.
Other titles by Vivi Anna
Valorian Chronicles: (paranormal romance)
Mahina's Storm -- short story
The Bewitching Hour -- short story
Her Dark Heart -- short story
The Wolf's Heart -- Oct/2011
Demon Dreamer -- erotic paranormal
Of the Moon -- erotic vampire historical fantasy
Turn the page for a sneak peak of an exciting first book by Michael J Lee...
\*\*\*
My Frankenstein
March/2011
"The mind is its own place, and in itselfCan make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven."---John Milton,Paradise Lost
I'm dying.
Eva floated in the blackness. The world drifted away from her. Her friends, her village, her entire world receded until it was just a pinhole of light in a sea of darkness. She heard his desperate voice. He pleaded with her to stay but his voice grew faint. It gave her some comfort that at least the last sound she would hear would be his voice, that in her final moments he'd begged her to remain.
Then pain shot through her and she fell out of the blackness towards that speck of light.
She heard Viktor shouting. He was no longer speaking to her but to Igor.
"There was a reaction!" said Viktor.
Another jolt of pain coursed through Eva. It pulled her closer. The shouts between the two men became clear and loud, as if they stood on the other side of a door.
"Give her more!" Igor shouted.
Viktor retorted, "Give her too much at one time and we will kill her! I know what I'm doing!"
Sight returned to Eva. She saw the dim outlines of the room and the high ceiling.
Another burst of pain tore through her. She felt it in her chest and it ran up and down her spine.
White light flooded her eyes.
Eva bolted upright.
River water streamed from her throat and poured out of her mouth. She coughed and choked until it was gone. Then she took a long, loud gasp of air.
"Eva!"
Viktor was at her side. She hadn't dared hope to see him again, his dark eyes, his alabaster skin, his coal black hair.
He wrapped his arms around her tightly. She felt the tight muscles beneath his shirt and waistcoat. She clung to him as the warmth of his body spread slowly through her taking away the deathly chill. She could hear his heart thump wildly beneath his chest.
"I'll get you a blanket."
Eva hugged herself. She was soaked to the skin and shivered.
She breathed. Her throat and lungs ached.
Where am I?
She'd never been in this room before.
It was large with a high ceiling. Against one wall was a great machine that whirled and hummed. Igor stood next to it and worked a series of levers. Two thick cables lead from the machine to the table next to Viktor. Sparks flew from the copper ends.
What happened?
She felt her chest just above her heart. Viktor pulled her hand away.
He said, "Don't touch that. You're burned. Not badly. I'll take care of it."
He left Eva to fetch a jar from a cabinet. Eva saw her reflection in the cabinet's glass doors. She looked like a drowned animal.
I drowned.
I was dead.
\*\*\*

