“MacKayla.”
We were a block from the bookstore when V’lane’s voice slid out of the darkness, an orchestral variation on an erotic dream. The Fae have extraordinary voices, melodious and rich. The notes vibrate under your skin, sleek and sensual against the tips of your nerve endings. If the Song of Making really is a song, I’m not sure a human could survive hearing it.
I used to have what I would have called a normal sex drive. Some of my friends were beyond obsessed with it, though. I guess they thought it would fill the void of purposelessness so many in my generation are afflicted with while trying to find our place in the world.
But being Pri-ya changed me, left me with a voracious awareness of all things sexual. Or maybe sex with Barrons did it—I don’t know. All I know is that I’m far more attuned to erotic nuances than I used to be. The Seelie Prince’s murmur was a full-body caress, and I appreciated it for a moment before shrugging it off.
“V’lane!” Dani exclaimed.
He laughed, and if I hadn’t been immune to death-by-sex Fae glamour, I would have been in serious trouble. He was putting on the seduction, beautiful golden Fae radiating pure sexual heat. I’ve begun to think it’s simply part of his nature, that he can’t help it any more than some men can prevent themselves from oozing testosterone. I think some males of both species just have more.
Dani wasn’t immune. Her eyes were feverishly bright, her skin flushed, her lips parted. I caught a glimpse in that moment of the woman she would become. “Stop it, V’lane. Leave her alone.”
“I do not believe she wishes me to. Who better to awaken her to the shape and texture of Eros? Set the bar, so to speak.”
“Uh-huh,” Dani said thickly. “I’d like that.”
“I don’t care what you believe or what she wishes, and you will not be setting the bar. She’s going to have a normal life.” At least, as close to normal as I could make it. “Dani, get inside the bookstore. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
“But I don’t wanna—”
“Now,” I said.
She glared.
“I bet Barrons is there,” I dangled. To V’lane I said, “Dampen yourself so she can shake the thrall.”
He lifted and dropped one shoulder.
Dani made a soft sigh, as if abruptly released from some inner tension she wasn’t entirely glad to be free of, then glanced from V’lane to the bookstore and back again, as if trying to choose between a banana split and a fudge sundae. Then, “Fine,” she said, and flashed out. At the door, she tossed a saucy grin over a shoulder and said, “Take your time, Mac. Me and Barrons, we got stuff to talk about.”
I bit back a snort of laughter, remembering my own teen crushes. They’d been nightmares of awkwardness and nervous tension. Of feeling gauche, too clumsy for words, and needy. I trusted that Barrons would deftly deflect her hero worship. It was only with me that he was a constant jackass.
I watched until she was safely inside and the door closed behind her. Although there were no indications the Dark Zone that had once neighbored BB&B still existed, I didn’t trust those shadow-filled streets beyond the bookstore.
I looked back at V’lane. He was studying me intently.
“You have been battling. Are you well, MacKayla?”
“I’m fine.” My reflexes had been dynamite tonight. Even though I took a few crushing blows, I’d managed to duck or pull back at the last minute and minimize the impact every time. I didn’t even feel bruised anywhere. No cuts. No contusions. I felt fantastic. I loved this sleeker, stronger me.
The floodlights on the top of BB&B flashed on. The street was suddenly blindingly bright. I had no doubt Barrons was about to step outside.
V’lane shot the bookstore a beautifully imitated look of disgust, then his arms were around me and we were gone.
We reappeared, high in the dark night sky.
He was holding my hand.
I made the horrific mistake of glancing down briefly. I yanked my gaze back up again. I was standing on nothing. Black air beneath my feet.
Why wasn’t I falling?
As soon as I thought that, I began to fall. I lunged at him, wrapped my arms and legs around him, and clung for dear life.
His arms cradled me instantly. “I should have done this long ago, MacKayla,” he purred. “Be at ease. I will not let you fall. Look down.”
“That’s a definite not.” I had no idea how high up we were, but it was cold. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Are we just hanging in the sky? Floating here?” This distressed me tremendously. I’m quite certain we were created with feet because we’re supposed to walk on the surface of the planet. Key word there being “surface”: not above it, not below it.
“You would feel safer in one of those conveyances that frequently plummet?”
“All that is required to end a mortal life is one such fall, yet you assume the risk. Humans are irrational and foolish.”
“This irrational, foolish human wants her feet on the ground.”
“I have a gift for you, MacKayla. I have … what is that word …” He trailed off, and I was startled to realize there was a teasing note in his voice. “Ah, I have it,” he said lightly. “Labored. I have worked to give you this gift. I have not merely waved my fairy wand and made it so.”
He was teasing. I wasn’t sure what disconcerted me more: hanging in the night sky or listening to V’lane tease. The LM claimed that he was changed by exposure to humans. Was V’lane?
“This is the best way to present my gift.”
“I looked down when we got here. Lots of dark space. I think I saw stars.”
“The stars are above us. Look again.” His tone made it clear he was going to keep us hanging here all night if I didn’t do what he said.
Sighing, I opened my eyes, took a hasty, panicked look down, and squeezed my eyes shut again. Then I realized what I’d just seen and my eyes flew open again. We were several thousand feet up and city lights glittered far below.
City lights! We were above a brilliant aura that could only be a major metropolitan area. “I thought the power was out everywhere!” I exclaimed.
“I have been working with other Seelie to see it restored,” he said with pride.
“Where are we?”
“Beneath us is your Atlanta. On the coast, the lights of Savannah.” He pointed. “There, Ashford. I told you I would keep your parents safe. When Barrons beat me by a mere matter of minutes in saving you, I turned my efforts to saving those who matter most to you. Barrons has still never spared them a thought. The Dark Zones that swallowed the cities nearest your home, threatening to spread, have been eradicated. Power is restored. Even now humans learn to defend themselves. My gift to you is your Georgia back.”
I stared down at the lights, then at him. “Could you do this for the whole world?”
“Much of our power stems from our ability to manipulate dimensions beyond yours, but the fabric of the human dimension is … viscous, thick; the laws of your physics are not as … bendable as ours. This alteration required much time, cooperation with other Seelie and many humans.”
In V’lane-speak, that translated to a no. He’d done this for me and would do no more.
“Your parents are safe. Would you like to see them?”
I swallowed against a sudden lump in my throat. Mom and Dad were down there. One of those glittering lights beneath me, a mere sift away. They’d always been a mere sift away, but somehow, in Dublin, with four thousand miles between us, it had been easier to keep that fact blocked from my mind so I wouldn’t be tempted. So I wouldn’t hurt, or worry, or risk exposing their existence to my enemies, I’d crammed Mom and Dad into my padlocked box, with all my other forbidden thoughts. Was that what Alina had done with us, too?
I caught my breath. I shouldn’t. I knew better.
“Take me to the street outside The Brickyard,” I said. “I’ll walk from there.”
I was here and I couldn’t resist. I wanted to see my world again. I wanted to walk the oak- and magnolia-lined streets of my hometown. I wanted to stand outside my house and look up at my bedroom window. I wanted to see if I could find any trace of the girl I’d once been in these streets or if she’d been completely swallowed up by a dark Fae dream. I didn’t dare risk being seen, so I would have to stay to the shadows, but I’ve gotten good at that lately.
I lightly touched down, my boots settled on pavement.
There was The Brickyard, on its large lot, tucked between two antebellums. The lights were on inside and out. Nothing had changed. I hurried up the walk, peered into a window.
Oh, how wrong I was! Everything had changed. Ashford’s police force, firemen, the mayor, and about a hundred townspeople were inside, and I didn’t need to crack a window to know they were discussing strategy. The walls were down and the whole world knew it now. If there’d been national newspapers up and running, the headlines would be about nothing else. The Fae were visible, and here were the grass-roots efforts of my town to protect itself. I wanted to march in and help. Educate. Take up arms and protect.
“Your place and purpose are not here, MacKayla.”
I forced myself to turn away, melt, like a thief, into the night.
It was warm for January in Ashford, but that wasn’t so unusual. I’ve spent Christmases in ice storms. I’ve spent them in shorts and a T-shirt. Tonight was a jeans and tee night.
As I walked, I inhaled deeply. There was nothing blooming this time of year, but I swear the Deep South always smells of magnolias, wild azaleas, sweet tea, and somebody frying chicken somewhere. In a month, pansies would bloom all over the town—Ashford was nuts about pansies—followed by jonquils and tulips.
I was home. I smiled.
It was safe!
No Shades, no Unseelie, lights on everywhere.
I spun in a delighted circle in the middle of the street.
How I’d missed my world! How lost I’d felt so far away!
It all looked exactly the same. It felt as if I’d never left. As if three blocks down and two blocks over, I’d find Mom, Dad, and Alina playing Scrabble, waiting for me to get home from night class or work to join them (and get my petunia trounced, because Alina and Dad knew words that any reasonable person would have agreed shouldn’t be words at all, like “ort” and “quod”—really, who knew words like that?), and we’d laugh and I’d worry about what outfit to wear tomorrow and go to sleep with nothing more troubling on my mind than whether my petition to OPI to unretire my favorite shade had been heard. (It had, and they’d sent me a pretty pink-and-gold certificate conferring upon me the title of honorary OPI affiliate, which I’d hung with great pride next to my vanity, where I did my hair and makeup. Oh, the trials and tribulations of a sheltered youth.)
There was the Brooks’ house, proud white Southern columns at the top of a grand circular drive. There was the Jennings’ place, with its romantic turrets and loads of white lattice accents. I walked the streets, drinking in the sights. I’d always thought Ashford had such rich history, but it was really very young, only a few centuries, compared to Dublin’s millennia.
Then I was outside my house, standing in the street, sick with anticipation.
I hadn’t seen Mom since August 2, the day I’d left for Dublin. My last glimpse of Dad had been on August 28, when I’d dropped him at the Dublin airport and sent him back home. He’d flown over to find me, determined to take me back to Ashford with him. But Barrons had Voiced him, coerced him into not worrying about me, planted who-knew-what kind of commands inside my dad’s head to get him to leave and not come back. I both hated and appreciated that Barrons had done it. Jack Lane is one seriously strong-willed man. He’d never have left without me, and I’d never have been able to keep him safe.
I moved silently up the walk. A dozen feet from the front door, a mirror appeared, suspended in the air in front of me. I shivered, as if someone had walked over my grave. Mirrors are no longer simple things to me. Since the night I stared into the Silver that Barrons keeps in his study at BB&B and watched the twisted, dark creatures moving around inside it, looking at my own reflection has been unsettling, as if all mirrors are suspect and something dark and horrifying might materialize at any moment behind my shoulder.
“In case you were considering being seen,” V’lane cautioned, stepping into view behind my shoulder.
The moment I’d seen our house, I regressed in my mind to the curvy, pretty girl who’d raced down our front walk for the cab so many months ago, long blond hair swinging, short white skirt showcasing perfect golden legs (when was the last time I’d shaved?), manicure and pedicure meticulously enameled, purse and shoes matching, jewelry in theme.
I stared at myself now.
I was a wild woman, dressed from head to toe in black leather. There was slimy green goop in my tangle of midnight curls. I was stained with vile-smelling Unseelie body fluids. My nails were ripped to the quick, and I was toting a black leather backpack full of lights and ammunition, wearing a battered bike helmet, and carrying a semiautomatic weapon. He’d made his point.
“Make it go away,” I said stiffly.
The mirror vanished.
I didn’t belong here. Nothing good could come of my presence. Sure, I could ask V’lane to make me pretty and clean with glamour and drop in for a visit, but what would I say? What could I hope to accomplish? And wouldn’t every minute that I remained here potentially invite unsavory attention my parents’ way?
After all I’d been through, after all I’d seen, I still couldn’t come home.
There was a whole world out there in trouble. My mom and dad were safe. I felt a sudden rush of gratitude toward V’lane and turned to him. “Thank you,” I said. “It means the world to me that you protected them.”
He smiled, and I think it was the first real smile I’d ever seen on his face. It was blinding. “You are welcome, MacKayla. Shall we go?” He held out a hand.
I would have taken it, should have taken it, but just then I heard voices.
Cocking my head, I listened. My heart constricted. It was Mom and Dad. They were on the screened lanai that overlooked the pool in back of our house. Dense bushes at each side afforded privacy from our neighbors.
I could go press myself into the holly branches and, shielded from their gaze, catch a glimpse of them. I was starved for a glimpse of them.
I slipped off my MacHalo, dropped my backpack and gun. “In a moment,” I whispered. “You stay here. I’ll be back.”
“I deem this unwise.”
“Not your decision. Back off.”
I slipped into the shadows near my home.
“We’ve been over this again and again, Rainey,” my dad was saying.
I wedged quietly into the bushes and stared hungrily.
Mom and Dad were sitting on white wicker chairs on the lanai. Mom was sipping wine, and Dad was holding a glass of bourbon. I hoped he wasn’t drinking too much. There’d been a bad time after Alina had died when he’d slurred too often for my comfort. Dad’s not a drinker, he’s a doer. But Alina’s murder had fried us all. I absorbed my mom’s face greedily. Her eyes were clear, her face gently lined and beautiful as ever. My heart swelled with emotion. I ached to touch her, hug them both. Daddy looked robust and handsome as ever, but there was more silver in his hair than I remembered.
“I know it’s dangerous out there,” my mom said. “But I can’t stand this not knowing! If I just knew for certain she was alive.”
“Barrons said she was. You were here when he called.”
Barrons had called my parents? When? How was his phone working? Damn, I wanted his service provider!
“I don’t trust that man one bit.”
Neither do I, Mom. And I slept with him. My face heated. Sex and Mom are two thoughts that don’t fit comfortably in my head at the same time.
“We have to go to Dublin, Jack.”
I silently willed a thousand “no”s in my mom’s direction.
Dad sighed. “I tried to go back. Remember?”
I blinked. He had? When? What had happened?
Mom pounced on it. “My point exactly, Jack. You believe that man hypnotized you, planted blocks in your mind that prevented you from bringing her home, forced you to leave, and is somehow keeping you from going back—you couldn’t even get on the plane, you got so sick—but the moment you left the airport you were fine. Three times you tried to go! Yet you accept his word that our daughter is okay?”
You could have knocked me over with a feather. My dad knew Barrons had done something woo-woo to him and actually believed it possible? Daddy didn’t believe in woo-woo things. It was he who’d taught me an abject rejection of all things paranormal. And he and my mother were calmly sipping their drinks, discussing this stuff?
“We can’t go over there now. You heard what the scouts told Officer Deaton. Fae reality has gotten mixed up with ours. The few airplanes that have taken off have either come crashing down in flames or disappeared.”
“What about a private charter?”
“What good will it do if we die trying to get to her?”
“We have to do something, Jack! I need to know she’s alive. No, I need more than that. We have to tell her. You should have told her then, when you were there, when you had the chance.”
Told me what? I pressed deeper into the shrubs, all ears.
Dad rubbed his eyes. I could tell by the look on his face that he and Mom had been having this conversation a lot lately. “We promised we’d never talk about it.”
I nearly beat the bushes with frustration. Talk about what?
“We made other promises we broke,” Mom said pointedly. “That’s what got us into this situation to begin with.”
“What would you have had me tell her, Rainey?”
“The truth.”
“What is the truth? One person’s truth is another person’s—”
“Don’t play attorney with me, Jack. I’m not the jury and this isn’t your opening argument,” Mom said dryly.
He opened his mouth and closed it, looking sheepish. After a moment he said, “Mac was having enough problems dealing with Alina’s death. There was no way I was going to tell her about some crazy Irish woman and an even crazier prophecy. Our baby’d been battling depression for months. She had enough on her plate.”
Prophecy? Mom and Dad knew about the prophecy? Did everyone know about the blasted thing but me?
“What you heard all those years ago when you went digging for Alina’s medical records doesn’t seem so crazy now, does it?” Mom said.
Dad took a sip of bourbon. He exhaled and seemed to deflate. “Christ, Rainey, fifteen years passed. Perfectly normal.”
“She ranted about fairies. Who wouldn’t have thought she was crazy?”
I’m not sure Dad even heard her. He tossed back the rest of the glass in one swallow. “I let Alina do the one thing I promised the adoption people I’d never let either of them do,” he said roughly.
“We let her do it,” Mom said sharply. “Stop blaming yourself. I let her go to Ireland, too.”
“You didn’t want to. I pushed.”
“We both made the decision. We’ve always made the big decisions together.”
“Well, this was one decision you weren’t there to help me make. When I was in Dublin with Mac, you still weren’t talking to me. I couldn’t even get you on the phone.”
“I’m sorry,” Mom said after a long pause. “The grief …” She trailed off, and my stomach knotted. She was getting that look in her eyes again. That one that had bruised my heart every day until I’d run away to Dublin.
Daddy looked at her hard, and right before my eyes, he changed. I watched him inflate again, shake off his own emotions, and puff himself up for her. Become her man. Her rock. I smiled. I loved him so much. He’d dragged Mom kicking and screaming from grief once before, and I knew I could rest easy that he would never let grief steal her from him again. No matter what happened to me.
He stood up and stalked over to her. “What would you have had me say, Rainey?” Dad said loudly, jarring her, keeping her from slipping inward. “ ‘Baby, I’m sorry to tell you this, but according to some ancient prophecy, there’s something wrong with you and you’re going to doom the whole world’?” He snorted, then laughed. “Laugh with me, Rainey. Come on!” He pulled her to her feet. “Not our girl. Not a chance. You know it’s bogus.”
I gagged. Hand to my mouth, I staggered backward and nearly fell. There was something wrong with me? I was going to doom the whole world?
“Their mother gave them up because she believed it,” Mom fretted.
“That’s what the crazy lady alleged,” Dad said firmly. “She didn’t have a single shred of evidence. I interrogated her thoroughly. She’d never seen this supposed ‘prophecy’ and couldn’t point me in the direction of anyone who had. For Christ’s sake, Rainey, it’s a country that believes in leprechauns, rainbows, and pots of gold! Can I rest my case?”
“But there are fairies, Jack,” Mom persisted. “The crazy woman was right about that. They’re here, now, in our world, destroying it.”
“Circumstantial. One accurate prediction doesn’t make an entire prophecy.”
“She said one of our girls would die young and the other would wish she was dead!”
“Alina almost died when she was eight, remember? But she didn’t. That’s young. Just because she died in her twenties doesn’t mean anything else the woman said is true, and it certainly doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with Mac. I think the Fae are far more likely to doom our world than any human is. Besides, I don’t believe in fate, and neither do you. I believe in free will. All the advice I gave her, all the love and wisdom you showered on her, that’s what she has now, and I believe it’s enough. I know our daughter. She’s as good as they come.”
He reached for her hands and pulled her into his arms. “Babe, she’s alive. I know she is. I can feel it in my heart. I knew when Alina was dead. And I know Mac’s not.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
He gave her a faint smile. “Is it working?”
My mom punched him lightly. “Oh! You!”
“I love you, Rainey. I almost lost you when we lost Alina.” He kissed her. “I won’t lose you now. Maybe there’s some way to get into contact with Barrons again.”
“If only I knew for certain,” Mom said.
He kissed her again, then she was kissing him back, and I was feeling strangely embarrassed, because my parents were pretty much making out.
Still, watching them was comforting. They had each other, and there was a love between them that would withstand anything. Alina and I had always intuited, with no small wry pique, that, although our parents adored us and would do anything for us, they loved each other more. As far as I was concerned, that was the way it should be. Kids grow up, move on, and find a love of their own. The empty nest shouldn’t leave parents grieving. It should leave them ready and excited to get on with living their own adventure, which would, of course, include many visits to children and grandchildren.
I took one last long look and went to join V’lane.
He moved into step beside me in silence and offered his hand, but I shook my head.
I picked up my stuff, went to the mailbox, and pulled the LM’s photo album out of my backpack. I looked through it for a few moments until I found the perfect picture of Alina, standing in front of the arched entry at Trinity College. She was smiling, openmouthed on a laugh. I smiled back.
I turned it over and scrawled on the back:
She was happy.
I love you, Mom and Dad.
I’ll be home as soon as I can.
Mac.