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PAST:
I come to her bedroom when her clock illuminates the darkness, red glowing numbers read 3:33. It's the small hour of morning, a time when humans sleep. But she stirs as though sensing my presence. Her round eyes open, and she struggles to see in the darkness. She is...breathtaking. I'm taken aback by this unexpected creature. She's a human. A half-ling. They never held even an ounce of my interest. And yet, here in the night, this small, beautiful girl has every inch of my attention. Slowly she pushes herself upright. She leans forward and pulls her knees up under her chin. Her hand rubs her eyes, as though she questions what she sees. She should, having never seen the likes of me before. I feel the need to get close to her, which frightens me a little. So in turn, I need to frighten her. If she fears me, there will be no chance of us ever coming any closer than we are at this moment. And I want to be closer. So much closer.
"Are you a dream?"
"Do I look like a dream?"
She studies me, then shakes her head. "Not really. But what else could you be? It's that or I'm going insane," she mutters under her breath.
"Don't doubt your senses, Lorelei. They know and see more than you give credit for."
Narrowing her eyes, she cocks her head to the side. Like an inquisitive child. "You know my name."
It is not a question, so I refrain from answering. I can see in her eyes she has resigned to the idea our encounter is but a dream. It matters not. The end result will be real enough to her, come daybreak.
"Who are you?"
Her voice is raspy and thin, but all traces of drowsiness are gone.
Her hair is a tangle of long, dark curls. How could one look so desirable in such a messy state? Faerie women go to great lengths to do elaborate things with their locks and faces, painting their lips and eyes with dramatic shades of red and turquoise and silver. And this girl with her tousled hair, swollen lips, and bare face, could not have been more beautiful.
I want to touch her. Stroke her silky hair. Caress her pale cheeks. But I remain still, hands stiffly clenched at my sides. The full span of my blackened feathered wings fills her room. I could have worn any face to make her more comfortable, more willing to converse with me. But I sense how bold she is. Curious and questioning. This is not her first exposure to things unexplained, so I remain in my true form.
Her expression shifts subtly in the moonlight. She's like a fragile sculpture made of light and air and moonstone. Elusive and aloof, yet terribly intense. Her eyes are wide. Scared. Fathomless.
For an inexplicable and unprecedented moment, I wonder what it would be like to love this girl. Would it fill my life with meaning? Would she lose a part of her soul in me, and mine in her? Or would we destroy one another from an endless need for more than the other can provide?
What is it I find so attractive? She is my opposite. The polarity of everything that I am. She is a flower petal bathed in sunlight. I am a razorblade encased in ice.
Her lips pull into a small smile. My chest tightens. I smile. Not only because I like what I am seeing, but also because I know my smile makes humans uneasy. I need for her to feel uneasy with me. She takes a staggered breath. And then another, visibly roused. But she is not afraid. I sense her curiosity growing stronger. She is an enigma. Nothing like her father, King Oberon.
I suddenly remember my purpose. To seduce his daughter would not end well for anyone. Least of all me. I return to being my most frightening form.
The soft fabric of her shirt rises and falls with her quickened breaths. She shivers and pulls the covers up under her chin.
Much better.
"You sing?" I ask, knowing full well the answer. I still am not certain if she remembers me.
"I can," she says timidly. "But I choose not to."
She doesn't turn away or hide her eyes from me. She is open and her thoughts are like an invitation to dinner. An open buffet free for the picking. She underestimates herself. She merely needs more encouragement.
"You must sing more. For me. And in exchange I will offer you anything you ask." I startle myself. Where had that come from?
She nibbles her lower lip. "What makes you think I want that? Music is really more my mother's thing than mine," she says.
I roll my eyes. "Liar. It is in your blood. I can smell it."
"You can smell music in my blood," she repeats with absolute disbelief. "That's some talent."
"I have many," I say. "And I have been studying humans for centuries."
I see her lips mouth the word centuries, and I take note of the way they move.
I’ve taken many notes.
"I know you want this. You are merely afraid to want it for fear of failing."
"Pretty bossy for a dream. And you seem awfully sure of yourself for an angel who's just met me."
My lips curl in a sharp grin. "You think I’m an angel. You have no idea how far off you are."
"What are you then?" She shifts her weight, resting her chin on her knees.
"Shadow Fey."
"Fey? Like A Midsummers Night's Dream?" She glances at the book on her nightstand as if adding proof to her this-is-but-a-dream theory.
She needs something to make this more real. Get her invested.
"I am a Faerie Knight from the Shadow Court. The court where your father still lives."
I should not have said it. I know I shouldn’t have, and yet I can't help but watch keenly for her reaction.
Her face pales, but she does not say anything, so I persist.
Folding my arms across my chest, I say, "I do not understand why you would turn from your gifts. You want to do what instead? Hide? Crawl back under those blankets and continue to hide your true self from the world?"
Her mouth slips open a little.
"Oh, I know exactly what you can do. And I know what you yearn for. You want a life that blows your mind, not one that barely scratches the relentless itch you have for more. You can have it all. I am merely offering you a shortcut to the life you desire."
A wash of anger sweeps over her as she throws back her blankets and climbs from the bed. "Are your kind always this arrogant?" she snaps. "You have no idea what I desire."
I step toward her, and she freezes. "Don't I?" I say, letting my smile chill her a little.
The temperature in the room dips, and she scoots back into bed, backs up against the headboard, and tugs the blankets up under her chin. I'm relieved she is no longer standing so close to me. It makes it easier to forget the crazy images flittering through my mind. Images of her and me, together in my realm. Madness.
She blinks up at me, then wets her lip with her tongue. "Okay. Let's say you have a clue about me. Then what? I become the next teen idol? No thanks."
"You're afraid." I hear it in the pent-up breath she releases, even though I know she will not admit to it.
"And you're disturbed."
"Of course I am. We all are. And why shouldn’t we be? The alternative, being banal and bland, is the reason so many seek a swift end to their existence. Why not do something crazy and live your life? It makes far more sense than blowing one's brains out, as so many humans do."
She blanches, and her teeth grind. She's gentle. Prefers the light. I exude darkness. I do not do light. Yet another reason why this attraction is ill placed.
"You are mistaken if you think you do not want an outlet for the music that imbues your soul, Lorelei. Your thoughts are a roadmap to your deepest desires, and I see them very clearly."
Her cheeks pinken momentarily, and I feel her heart rate accelerate. I want to inquire if she believes such a visceral reaction could be caused by a mere dream, but I do not.
"I offer you something you will never again have the opportunity to acquire. I wish to give you the gift of song, and if you agree to sing for me, I will grant you anything." Arching a brow, I continue when she remains silent. "I assure you it's not an offer I am in the habit of making to girls in their bedrooms in the middle of the night."
A cool breeze catches the wild ends of her hair, tossing them in front of her eyes. She pushes them back slowly, never taking her eyes from mine. Eyes that light from within. "Anything?" she whispers.
I give a stiff nod, unable to go back on my word. "Anything."
"My father. You said he was alive. I want to see him."
"I cannot arrange that."
She frowns. "Hey, you’re the one who said ‘anything.’" Then she shakes her head. "Fine. I want you to promise to keep him safe. So that one day he can come back to us. To me and my mom. Will you do that at least?"
I am unaccustomed to making bargains to attain what I want, and yet I find it impossible to refuse her request. She is so trusting for someone so human. I am inclined to refuse. To tell her I rescind my offer and force her to do as I ask. But instead I hear my voice say, "Yes. I will do that. While I cannot promise he will return to you, I can promise nothing will happen to him while our accord is in effect. My offer to you is to keep your father safe from harm. But you, you must give to me your voice. I will come to you whenever and wherever you use it. And you will sing for me and for me alone, whether the room is filled with a thousand other beings or none at all."
She nods, looking a little drowsy once more. She still thinks she is dreaming. Or caught in between dream and wakefulness. It’s of no matter, for this bargain fulfills both her father's wishes and my own, and I have contracted the opportunity to see her whenever I choose.
She brings her hand to her mouth and nibbles the pad of her thumb. "The way I see it, you are getting two things and I’m just getting one," she says. "You want me to perform and perform for you? Then you need to take me to my father. That’s my counteroffer."
I shake my head, reaffirming my previous answer. Stubborn. Add that to the list.
"There is no way I can make that happen," I reply. If only because I know what lies in wait for a girl like her in my world. She would be devoured alive. I’m flooded with an overwhelming need to protect her—only I have no idea why.
Her gaze turns frosty as her eyes rest on mine. "Fine." She folds her arms. "You can leave anytime now. Since you won't give me what I want, there's nothing left for us to talk about."
For a moment I do not move. Then I laugh, incredulous. I'd been dismissed. By a human girl. Half-human. I could not remember a time that had ever happened to me before.
I really like this girl.