SEVEN
I slam the back door of my so-called parents’ house and make a beeline for my car. Maybe Roxie will help make me feel somewhat normal. My ’67 VW Beetle is in pristine condition—nothing gets thrown down on her floor, that’s for sure. I can’t imagine any other car suiting me so well.
I grab the door handle but draw my hand right back to myself, holding it gently with my other hand.
“Damn it!” That freaking hurt! What the heck?
Once again, since I have no choice but to leave, I attempt to open the car door. My hand is met with the same response—searing pain.
Can something please be normal in my life for one single second today? I’m only asking for one simple thing…
Dropping down to my knees and holding my useless right hand at my waist, I shuffle around in my purse for my phone. My left hand is fairly incapable of doing anything helpful, being a true righty, but I am able to scroll to Hollie’s number and hit send.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Hols. Can you come help me?” I start to sniffle—crap!—and tears once again well up. I don’t have the strength to fight anymore so I let them fall. And fall.
“What’s going on, sweets? Why are you crying? Where are you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I just need to leave and I can’t. My parents aren’t my parents and my car just burned me…” I’m sobbing so hard at this point that my words are all jumbled and make no sense, not even to me.
“Alexis—calm down. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll get over to you. You at home?”
“Yeah,” I manage to blubber out.
Hollie reassures me she’ll be right over and I just let the phone drop back into my purse. I curl up into a ball, forehead on my knees, tears spilling freely.
When it seems I no longer have anything left to cry, I feel a reassuring hand on my back. I sit up, wiping my nose with my palm like a little kid, and look to see who is there.
Bonnie is back, attempting to calm me.
“What the heck! Where did you disappear to? I just had to deal with my parents and I was so mean to them. And now I can’t even leave! What is happening to me?”
“Honey, I cannot be around when your parents are there. They do not know about me.”
“What? How is that possible? You’ve been around my whole stinking life! What do you mean they don’t know about you?”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I remember my dad’s question. He asked if someone was over. My parents really don’t know that Bonnie has lived with us all this time. It’s not like we ever talk long enough or often enough for me to bring Bonnie up in conversation, and she was only one of many babysitters from when I was little. Like they really would have noticed if Bonnie had left or not.
“I am a faery, darling. I am here to protect you, but I choose not to make myself known to many humans. It would be too dangerous.”
“But Hollie’s been around you tons. And Blake, too. I don’t get it. And like I’ve really never slipped up and mentioned you to Mom and Dad?”
“Hollie and Blake have fae blood, remember? And, sadly, we both know the answer to the second question.” The pain shows in Bonnie’s eyes—the pain a mother would feel for a child. “Oh, I think this might have been too much for you to handle all at once. I wish you could have started learning piece by piece years ago. But I guess it was not meant to be that way…”
I attempt to stand up, but have to hold on to Bonnie’s arm for stability. Once I am on my own two feet again, I start to pull myself together. Digging around in my purse, I find a tissue to clean up my nose and makeup a little better than I did inside.
Hanging my purse and bag on my shoulder, I turn to look at Bonnie. Nothing further can be done without answers, and this woman is the only one I know who can give them to me, or get them for me. I felt it earlier when I first got home and now I know it.
I whip my gaze from Bonnie to Hollie as my friend pulls into the driveway at a crazy speed, looking like she is going to crash into Roxie.
“No! Hols, slow down—Roxie’s all I have left!”
What the— Why am I saying such stupid stuff? I’m seriously being a complete idiot today. It’s enough to make me laugh, and most likely appear certifiable … but whatever. I no longer care in the least.
As I am thinking this, I realize I’m running out in front of my precious car. Another genius move of the day. Thankfully Hollie slams on the brakes in time. I watch her pop open her mom’s car door and jump out, not even bothering to shut the door, and race toward me.
Everything feels like a movie—I am still the actress I was in the kitchen. This can’t be reality. Can it? My mind churns at the events occurring around me.
As Hollie approaches, I look down at my hand, shocked to see the red is fading away already. Much faster than it should be. It doesn’t even really hurt anymore.
“Wow! What the hell is going on? You look horrible. I mean, not to sound mean, but—well, you do. What happened?”
“She has had a rough day, my dear. Perhaps we should take her somewhere to calm her down, and maybe get a warm drink,” Bonnie tells Hollie, as if I am not here.
“All right, well I can take her wherever. We can go grab a Starbucks and relax at the park, if that’ll help.”
“Well, I was thinking of a more specific type of drink. Is your mother home, Hollie?”
“No. She always goes to Rasta’s for drinks on Fridays after work. And then I think she has a date with yet another random loser later, so she should be gone all night.”
“Is it rude of me to ask this of you? Could we take Alexis there and get her cleaned up?”
“No, of course we can. Not a problem. Let’s get her in the car. She looks like crap.”
I scowl at Hollie, yet manage to stick out my tongue just from the sight of her.
“Seriously, Hols? You don’t have to keep talking about how shitty I look.” I feel exactly as she said I look—like crap, but I smile as I am saying this. “Just take me to your house. Please.”
When I think about it, it is probably best if I leave my car here, seeing as I didn’t pay for it.
Yet another thing to make me feel better about being me.
I shove past Hollie and Bonnie and go to the passenger side of Hollie’s car. My luck isn’t any better with this door handle.
“Shit! Bonnie, you’ve gotta tell me what this is all about. It’s insane!”
“Here, honey.” Bonnie produces a towel from her apron and comes over to me and wraps it around her hand. “Now try it.”
Duh—why didn’t I think of this solution? Not that I know why it’s happening, but come on. It’s fairly basic.
The door opens easily, with no pain. Relieved, I climb into the back seat, toss my bags down, and plop my butt next to them. I lean my head back and wait to be taken away from all of the strangeness.
I close my eyes while Hollie drives. The car stops twice and someone gets out each time, but I don’t pay much attention to where we are—I simply want to get to Hollie’s. I feel we have to be close by now when the car makes yet another stop. I open my eyes and sit up only to find we are at a gas station. Seriously? What could we need here when I’m so obviously in the middle of a breakdown?
I hear the gas door on the other side of the car and lean my head back again. I guess I have my answer. Someone walking out of the store in the middle of the station catches my eye. Squinting, I try to see him more clearly, but there is a haze around his entire body. Like he’s not all the way here or something. He is walking toward Hollie’s car and I recognize who he is. I sit up quickly, causing a horrible head rush.
With my hand on my forehead, I follow Sloane’s figure as it walks up to, and then around, the back of the car. By the time he passes by the back window, the hazy fog is gone and I see him clearly. In all of his gorgeousness. The guy was hot as hell earlier when Andrew—I mean Donovan—introduced us, but now he looks like a god carved out of marble.
> I glance over at Hols to see if she’s looking at him, too, but she is busy with the gas. When I glance back to where he was, he’s already gone. Of course he is … like he would stop and wait to walk off just so I can watch him. Realizing I look like a puppy panting for its owner who’s outside of the car, I turn around and sit back down. Hand still on my forehead, I relax and close my eyes, picturing him as best I can.
The thought that I should get out and talk to him crosses my mind, but I don’t want to chance the door handle attacking me again. And besides, do I really want him to see me looking like this? I know I have bigger things to worry about but after seeing him twice today, he is most definitely in my head. I can only hope I run into him again. Except for … I wonder what his deal is. If he’s friends with Donovan, that can’t be a good sign.
Even knowing it’s probably best to stay away from Sloane, my thoughts are stuck on him as Hollie gets back in the car and we drive off. I can only hope this is our last stop and that we are now going to her house.
I’m not sure what gas station we could have possibly been at because it takes so long to get to Hollie’s, but at least we arrive while the sun is still out. It feels like midnight by now, but it must have been less time than I thought. Still not wanting to believe my day has been real, I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and rub furiously at them—as if to make it all go away. Cautiously, I let one eye slit open. Nope. Nothing has changed. Sighing, I clutch my bags and crawl out of the car.
Bonnie and Hollie keep walking straight, toward the kitchen, I’m assuming. But there is only one place I want to go, so I head straight there instead.
Hollie’s room is my sanctuary. It’s the perfect place to relax. Taking off my hoodie, I let it fall to the floor along with my bags, per usual. I take a few steps and collapse on the bed full of soft, fluffy pillows. Burying my face in one, I pile a few others over my head. Maybe I can hide here forever.
No such luck. Bonnie gently shakes me, trying to get me to drink something.
Reluctantly, I flip onto my back and slowly sit up.
“You sure this stuff is good for me? It smells like ass.”
“Yes dear.” Bonnie smiles, shaking her head at my language. “It is an old remedy. The drink will help to calm you, and it also works on your senses of reasoning. You should be able to cope and digest new information easier with this in your system. Now drink up, darling.”
“All right, but if I turn green or break out in a crazy rash, I’m blaming you.”
I hesitantly take a sip and find it isn’t half bad. Rather sweet, in fact. I figure I can drink it … it’s better than water and, hell, at this point, what do I have to lose?
Bonnie sits on the bed and speaks in a hushed tone. “I was wondering if you wanted to tell Hollie everything that we spoke about this morning.”
I shrug and whisper back. “I guess so. I mean, she’s here—well, we’re at her house. It’d be kinda rude to talk without her. Plus, she’s sorta involved, seeing as she’s half-fae.”
Just the few small sips I’ve taken of the mysterious drink have relaxed me. I’m still a mess, but my emotions aren’t completely all over the place, unable to be reined in. My insides are almost serene. The way this stuff is helping me, I can more or less see why so many people are on drugs.
I am a complete wuss and I know it. “Can you tell her?” I ask Bonnie. “I don’t know if I can handle it. Besides, how am I supposed to explain what’s going on when I don’t exactly understand myself? I mean, I know what you told me and that it’s all true—I can feel it big time, but… Well, I’m just not ready, I guess is what I’m saying.”
“Quite fine, sweetheart. I can tell her the basics of her family and yours. But then you two are going to learn more on your own through scrying, with the help of another drink that will speed the process.”
“Sure, fine, whatever. I’ll do that if I have to, but right now I’m gonna finish this and just lie here for a minute. Let me know when you’re done.” I have decided I like this drink now, how it’s making me feel. I wonder if Bonnie will give me the recipe. Gulping the last of it down, I put the empty mug on the floor and hide under my pillow fortress again.
The next thing I see is not what I expect. I am standing in a meadow and all of nature’s colors are more vivid than they ever have been before. Sunlight is shining down through the trees just like it does in my dreams and the air is tranquil. I spin in a circle, taking gradual steps, absorbing my surroundings. Nothing seems familiar, yet I have the same comforting sensation I do when I enter Hollie’s room, or when I used to sit on my dad’s lap in his truck and he would let me steer. Love and safety are nearby.
There is no one else in sight, save a few butterflies flitting around the flowers. The only way to find out where I am is to explore—see if I come across anyone. I head toward one of the three paths that leads out of the circular field I am in and, as I walk, my footsteps fall silently. It’s a creepy kind of calm. I can’t even hear myself breathing. I put my hand on my chest and realize I’m not breathing.
All right, now. This is getting beyond ridiculous … what exactly is going on? I wish someone would appear and just tell me all I need to know. But I’m thinking I might be on my own with most of this.
I stop by a spot where neighboring stone walls meet. Just like something out of The Secret Garden, one of my favorite movies. The same lights I saw in Preston’s yard are flashing here. Faint sounds whisper on the gentle breeze that is starting up. But how can there be any wind if there is no air? I thought I asked for answers, not more confusion. I laugh at myself and the ridiculousness of all I have experienced in the past two days. At least I’m not crying.
Someone has to be making the noise I am hearing. And a someone, any someone, is who I need. So I pause and cock my head in order to hear better.
The sounds are definitely music, just a different kind than I usually hear. There are both unfamiliar instruments and soft, yet strong, voices. They are singing in perfect harmony. Intrigued, I kneel down hoping I can see what it is I’m hearing, and I trip over something I don’t, or can’t, see.
Tiny voices scream and I scurry back up from the bush I landed in. The wee creatures that were putting on the music and light show are now visible to me. Miniatures of the gorgeous things I see in my dreams.
“Who are you?” a small voice calls out. I turn to look behind me, even though I think it’s only me and them. Yet I still glance to my sides to make sure I am the only one around.
“Me?” I ask. “I’m Alexis—I mean, Kellyn—and, um, well, I’m not quite sure why I’m even here. Wherever here is… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you. Is anyone hurt?”
“No, no. We’re all fine. We’re fairly quick and managed to move out of the way in time. No worries.” This reply comes to me from a teeny creature with iridescent wings and the face of an angel.
Hmmm. So maybe those weren’t butterflies I just saw.
“Well, I’ll leave you guys alone. I’m sorry for bothering you. I think your music’s really pretty, though. It sounds sort of familiar to me.”
This is normal conversation for me, at least in the beginning of my beautiful dreams. Although I’m almost positive this isn’t a dream. Except I do remember laying down… Heck, at this point, it will probably be best just to go with whatever happens.
These creatures, no bigger than my hand, could pass for Tinkerbell and her friends. All gorgeous, and all precious. The little butterfly being smiles, but the sweet expression turns to rapt awe as its gaze moves slightly to my left.
I turn to catch the appearance of a shimmering, elongated orb. It gradually comes into focus and a woman is visible. A woman with long, blonde hair, and a stunning face. I instantly know who she is. There is no doubt. I would know even if I hadn’t seen her just a while ago with Bonnie.
“Mother?” I call out cautiously, quietly.
“Yes, my dear. I am here. But I cannot stay for long.” With each word she speaks, her image fad
es in and out of being. Her voice echoes loudly and envelops my thoughts.
I feel I can’t speak and all I can hear is what is in my mother’s head. My amazing mother who gave up her own life for me. In my mind, I hear nothing but love, caring, hope, strength, and purpose. No remorse or pain.
I do feel a brief emotion of my own. Happiness. She doesn’t blame me for what happened. If I could breathe, a huge sigh of relief would make its way out.
Before my mother begins thinking too intently again, I have one more snapshot into my own head. I realize how odd it is that I’m hearing emotions, rather than feeling them. In fact, my body feels numb. My heart is empty.
Then I can think no longer. My mother’s thoughts are all encompassing. It is as if I am becoming her. It’s beautiful. For once today, I am complete. So what if the completeness isn’t really mine—it is wonderful nonetheless.
Emotions as thoughts rush into my brain at unimaginable speeds. I don’t think I can keep up, but somehow I manage. My mother is telling me everything I need to know. How I came into existence and how I was found in the fountain by a sweet couple, late at night, and taken to the hospital.
Everything I didn’t know about my life two minutes prior, I know now. I have been filled in on what Bonnie has not yet been able to tell me.
When it seems as though no more can fit in my head without it exploding, my mother detaches from my mind and I am able to think on my again. Her memories remain in me, which I find to be beyond awesome.
“I know you are having a difficult time trying to speak. Please do not worry about it. No thanks are necessary, as you well know. You are my daughter and I will do anything I can to help you fulfill your destiny.”
At that word—destiny—I find my voice.
“What do you mean, Mother? Someone else told me the same thing earlier, and I don’t have a clue what it means—well, at least as far as I’m concerned.” Of course I know the meaning of the word. Duh… “Is there really something I’m supposed to do that will make any sort of difference? And what could I possibly need to change?”
“Of course, my dear Kellyn. Oh, I am sorry—you probably prefer Alexis. Kellyn is the name I gave you, but Alexis is the name you are used to, so I can understand. And it is a great name. Your human parents chose wisely. It means ‘defender of men,’ and that is what you are. Defender of both fae and humans alike.
“I do not mind you calling yourself Alexis still. After all, your human parents did raise you and shaped you into the beautiful faery who stands before me now.”
I am floored that, on top of being aesthetically gorgeous, my mother’s heart, her words, and her voice are just as much so, if not more.
“Kellyn has many meanings, but one extremely special one,” she continues. “And even if you choose not to use it, please keep it in your heart as your given name. That is all I ask.”
I reply with a question. “Would you mind telling me the meaning? I would love to know. And I honestly would like to begin using it as my name.” Being in the presence of my true mother makes me feel more mature, for some reason. More myself. More eloquent. More alive. I know using the name she gave me will help keep these feelings intact.
“Of course, my dear. Kellyn simply means ‘descendant of The Brightheaded One.’ My descendent. But for more than just the simple reason that I have light hair. In my life, I was a rather strong faery and was the one in our village who was able to help—in any situation. Well, except my own, of course. That was left to fate.
“‘Brightheaded’ is more about my spirit, or aura, than anything else. I want you always to remember where you first came from, and the fact that all the qualities I once possessed are now at work in you.”
Two days ago, I would never have believed any of this. But today is a different story. I accept everything I am being told as if it is gospel. And from the look of the woman who stands before me, she may as well be God, or at least a goddess of some sort.
The most wonderful part of this experience is that I know now this strength and beauty really is inside me. My mother was able to put all emotions into my head so they became fact, instead of fleeting feelings.
These feelings can never leave me. I know they won’t; it’s as if they told me this fact. When they do escape my mind, they will simply flow through the rest of my body, becoming stronger and embracing me completely.
I freeze in awe as this amazing faery walks over to me—her daughter—and softly touches my left arm. Gently lifting it up, she leans down and kisses the inside of my wrist. She then lets go and takes a step back. I watch, wide-eyed, as an intricate, circular pattern appears in place of the warm, tender mark of her kiss.
She lifts her own left arm and, when her flimsy, sheer sleeve falls away, I see a matching mark.
“Oh wow! I can feel the warmth of it all the way to my heart. It’s incredible.”
“It is our mark—yours and mine. Like a snowflake, it cannot be duplicated. I am sorry to say that it will not stay permanently, though. I am only a spirit and I gave my powers to you long ago. It will fade by sunset. You must find a way to make it stay so you may always call on me if you are in need.”
“Well how—how do I do that?” I don’t want anything of my mother’s to fade from me. It is all too wonderful to let disappear. I want it all—and more.
“You will find a way, my dear. I have faith, and you have the strength. And I will see you soon.” With this last statement, she blows me a kiss, and then gives in to the power she has been fighting. She begins to fade as a gust of wind in the otherwise still air sweeps her away gracefully, her physicality turning into spirit on the breeze.
Now I feel the need to breathe. I close my eyes and suck in the sweet, flower-scented air that was nonexistent seconds before. When I open my eyes and look around again, I see only blackness.