| |
Leajka
––––––––
Amelia whirls on me when we get back to our shared cinderblock room. I’m afraid she’s going to lay into me about the whole vampire versus fae thing. I’ve never had to pick before. Then again, I never let myself acknowledge that I’m fae before. Ivan knew even though he never said anything and didn’t seem to mind...until now.
Her eyes are narrowed, but she wears a goofy smile. She descends on me with her finger pointed as though I stand accused of more than murder. “I’ve never seen anything like the way he looks at you. Whoa.”
“Whoa, what?” I ask, reclaiming my personal space.
She lights up like the bulb shining on the ceiling above her. “You’re both so comfortable around each other like you can be yourselves. You’re just best friends?”
Her assumption catches up with me. “Are you talking about Tyrren...and me?” I shake my head. “Yes, we’re just friends. I’ve never had a serious boyfriend. A best friend, yes. A boyfriend, no. I’m not a player, a dater, or a committer.”
“No? But you are rambling.” She hitches a sly smile. “You may not see it yet, but there is some serious chemistry between you two. It’s like flames in a fire.”
“And that’s why I don’t date. We’d turn to ash.”
“Dramatic.” Amelia wiggles her fingers.
“What about you?” I ask, turning the tables.
“Do I have a crush? Yes. Does he realize I exist? No.”
“And he is...?”
“Someone that needs a little work before he’s datable.” She blows a stray piece of hair away from her face.
“The types with potential are always trouble.”
“You’re telling me.” Amelia lets out a long sigh before she drops onto her bed. “More urgently, it’s clear you and Tyrren belong together but not here.”
My expression must convey the question in my mind. Why did we both wind up here at the same time for crimes we didn’t commit?
Amelia grabs me, forcing me to sit next to her on the bed. I try to edge away, but when she speaks, it’s so low, I have to lean in to hear. “There are plenty of fae and other supernaturals who break laws and hurt others. There’s a reason they converted the jail to a maximum-security prison. But this school? I’m not so sure. Most of us don’t belong here.” She shakes her head.
“Says everyone who ever committed a crime.” Even as I speak the words, they fall hollow, false.
“I don’t think I burned my house down. I don’t think you killed two people. Maybe some of the students here broke rules or their parents were fed up with their juvenile behavior.” She throws air quotes around the word juvenile. “I’ve been here a while and the prison population is only increasing along with the demon threat. You’d be an idiot not to notice there are more demons on the loose than ever and they’re disguised to look like natural mortals—humans.”
She has my full attention now. I quickly tell her about the encounter Tyrren and I had with the demons in Brooklyn.
“All I know is that we’re threatening to vampires so better to keep us locked away, right? Wrong. We could defend against the demons. Instead, we’re here.”
“Does that mean vampires have infiltrated positions of political power?” I think of Ivan. He always pulled strings and conducted shady dealings behind closed doors. Could he be one of them? Then why raise me as his daughter only to lock me up?
“I believe so.”
Amelia’s suspicions filter through my mind. “Sounds like you’re suggesting a conspiracy theory.”
“After the Rift, an order of Guardians and Warriors was created to protect the supernaturals here in Terra—trained at magical academies all over the world.”
I stop her right there and have her explain more. Up until now, I haven’t paid attention to the details.
“There are two parallel realms. Terra, where we are. Borea, where we’re from.”
“I’m from Brooklyn.”
“If believing that helps you sleep at night, by all means. But there’s no denying you’re fae. Frost Fae if my Spidey-senses are accurate.”
My shoulders reflexively round.
“There’s no shame in it, Lea.” Her eyes meet mine.
I turn away. “There are plenty of reasons to be ashamed,” I murmur.
“No.” Her voice is sharp. A reprimand. “Lea, you’ve just been catapulted into something much bigger than yourself.” She lets the words sink in for a moment and looks me over as though evaluating if she should say more. “We may be in reform school for wayward supernaturals, but that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with us or that we’re helpless.”
That’s exactly how I feel.
“If you’re the brave and bold girl I think you are, you’ll join us at midnight.”
“Join who? Where?” I ask.
“We’re working to get to the bottom of this and we will. We’ll break free.” The smile Amelia wears is a dare. She exits to the showers.
I flop onto my bed, overwhelmed. A few tears, as fine as the misty rain on the window, escape my eyes. Despite my often-unruly nature, this is all too dense and unwieldy. It scares me. I’m not sure I want anything to do with it. Despite being surrounded by people like me, meeting Amelia, and having Tyrren here, dread carves me out.
Nonetheless, I sense the ribbons of magnetic energy I’ve tried to ignore since that fateful night pulling me slowly toward twelve o’clock.
I drift in and out of anxious sleep until shuffling comes from across the room. Amelia ghosts by, revealing the digital numbers on the clock. It’s a few minutes before midnight.
I sense she pauses by the window as if giving me the opportunity to join her. Headmistress Jurik outlined the rules, but I’ve never before had an issue breaking rules. Neither have I been told that being fae is okay.
After pulling on my boots, I follow Amelia through the opening and onto the damp ground.
Outside, the air is electric or maybe it’s just me—if we’re caught I’m definitely going to RIP. Sticking to the shadows, we make our way across campus.
We pass several buildings, including a crumbling down auditorium—vestiges of the boarding school for supernaturals.
Inside, a group of students huddles together. They nod at Amelia as we sit down in the circle. Words are spoken in hushed whispers. The lantern light dims and the lapping water off the nearby docks and the crickets mute. It’s as if we’re suddenly inside a secret place.
Amelia smirks. “Rune of concealment.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about and worry I just stepped into a cult. Other fae gather—many with lavender eyes. A vague memory carries me back to Brooklyn and the bookstore where I worked.
A strong hand locks on my shoulder. I force myself not to startle as a guy with shoulder-length hair helps me to my feet. A tattoo twines down his arm, a tribal design of black and red against his skin.
“Welcome, everyone, especially our newcomer.” A pair of obsidian eyes shine on me. He leans in and whispers into my ear as though inhaling me. “My name is Emeric and I’m here to help you, Leajka.”
No one ever uses my full name. The sound of it makes me shiver with delight and meet his gaze. I want to hear it again. I want to dive into his dark eyes. I want to do anything he asks. The earth tilts like our worlds are colliding. He pulls me close. I melt, giddy like a girl asked to prom by her crush. The riptide of embarrassment that flooded me about being fae finally recedes.
Everyone claps.
Our eyes lock again and the fraying corners of my mind drop into nothingness. I forget everything, who I am, my name, Diesel my dog when I was little, the snatches of songs that play on an endless reel in my head, and the slim line of the knife that haunts my neck.
This boy, whoever he is, is a gateway drug. I’m nothing but amber desire.
Emeric’s voice comes strong and sure. “You’re all here tonight because you know you don’t belong. You shouldn’t be locked up. You don’t belong in Terra. No, you’re all meant for something greater—dominion in Borea. The homeland.”
There’s a murmur of agreement.
His voice is like smoke over water, soothing, tempting. “they taught you to believe that your magic was to be kept hidden. That you’re bad, tainted. But you feel the explosiveness of it desperate to get out. Fae aren’t meant to suppress their magic. It’s dangerous. I believe in each of you. In your power. In your promise. But nothing is going to change unless we come together and rise up against those who want to restrain us, lock us away, and pretend that we don’t exist.”
The lantern flickers.
I’ve never been one to dismantle my chainmail of suspicion, jadedness, or spite, but something softens me. At Emeric’s words, warmth spreads from the inside out, assuring me, casting away my self-doubt. I feel like I belong.
Emeric goes on to talk about they have oppressed fae and other supernaturals. How imprisoning us in jail and reform school is the latest in a long line of acts against us. He talks about the Rift, when the leaders of the Terra and Borea realms parted ways, leaving many in this realm to fend for themselves. He tells stories of families broken apart, fae who were made to live in hiding, fearing for their lives. He talks about fae being treated like criminals even though they couldn’t help their nature.
Part of me wants to argue, make my point that I’m a monster, but the more he talks, the more I find myself mesmerized and hanging onto his words, finding relief in finally hearing the truth.
“With demons on the loose, fae are emerging from hiding to defend themselves, their homes, and this land. But in doing so, they’re being made out to be the criminals.”
The rebel in me rallies. For so long I fought against myself. Maybe this is what I’ve been seeking all this time. People like me. With each word Emeric speaks, the fight rises inside.
“We’ll find a way to break free. We will show them what it means to be supernatural. We’ll destroy anyone who tries to stop us.” He holds my hand up as though we’ve already triumphed.
Against who? I don’t know.
Against what? The ongoing belief that I’m other, wrong, not worthy.
But am I dangerous? Yes. Yes, I am.
Emeric’s gaze lands on me as though he senses my thoughts.
What feels like a length of soft silk slips out from the center of my chest and spirals toward him. The broken and hollow parts of me since that terrible night almost four years ago fill in. The rollercoaster of emotions I’ve ridden for the last twenty-four hours vanishes. With this subtle shift, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
I spot Amelia in the crowd, silhouetted by the glow of the lantern.
Uncertainty flushes through me. But if I belong here, with my people, where does that leave Tyrren?
Emeric continues, “As many of you know, in days of old, the fae courts would host dances that lasted until sunrise. Let’s honor the fae heritage.”
Over the shuffling in the room, music plays.
Emeric laces his hand around the small of my back. My eyes fix on his shoulders and drag down to his arms, speared along the edges with ink. His eyes don’t waver from my face, my nose, or chin as if he’s drinking me in. I swim in them, my reflection almost visible as we lean into the music. He licks his lips like a new thought crystallized in his mind. My palms sweat as he takes one of my hands. His fingers cool my skin.
“Leajka, I wish you were still on the other side, free. But now that you’re here you can understand the truth of who you are and what you’re meant to be.”
I shiver. “What do you mean?”
“You’re different. You’re special.”
Through the haze of attraction, I manage to arch an eyebrow. “Is that what you say to all the new girls?” My Brooklyn street smarts signal alarm at the could-be pickup line, but like a receding tide, they fade when he repeats my name.
His lips quirk. “You’re not just a new girl. Your reputation precedes you.”
“I’d hardly say pranks and borrowing cars qualifies as a reputation.”
“Nearly two years ago, on the night you released your magic, you left an energy signature. I’ve been looking for you ever since.”
“I’m really not all that hard to find.”
He shakes his head. “Not when you suppress your magic. You’re full of it. Full of potential.”
“I had my reasons.”
“You were made to believe that you’re dangerous when your power is actually a gift.”
“If we’re all fae here then we’re all gifted.”
“There is a prophecy, Leajka. I think you’re among those who’re meant to lead our people to absolute freedom.”
My would-be laughter comes out as a giggle.
As we glide and dance, She Loves Me by the Beatles, drowns out the song playing in the old auditorium. I think of dancing with Tyrren at the diner. Guilt nips at me, but whatever is happening right now with Emeric is different from what I felt for Lucas or any other guy. Even Tyrren. With him, it’s like home, sweatpants, a pint of ice cream, and a movie.
With Emeric, I’m beaming smiles and ribbons of magnetic energy, twisting and sizzling. Like a spark moving along a fuse, burning dangerously toward a stick of dynamite, something inside me is ready to blow. I feel it right in the middle of my chest.
As we continue to dance, Emeric floats his hands along the length of my body, arresting my skin, my blood, and my bones.
The music intensifies and he pulls me close. “I’ve waited a long time for you, Leajka. You will be the downfall of this cursed realm.” His lips are practically against mine as he speaks.
“What are you doing?” I breathe. I want to pull away but can’t. It’s as though I’m magnetized to him, slipping, sliding, my thoughts dancing away on the sound of his voice and the drum of his will.
“Exactly what you want. Anything you want.”
“We hardly know each other,” I say, logic trying to overpower these primal urges.
“I don’t think that matters,” he says.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“You summoned me. I’m here because of your unmet desires. I’m whatever you want me to be.” His smile is wickedly beautiful.
I wobble. The room slants and I almost crash into Emeric, but Tyrren catches me.
Emeric vanishes.
