Mam moved into the kitchen, leaving me alone with Dad. He glared at me over his whiskey glass, but I kept my eyes on the book.
We ate Christmas dinner in silence. Every morsel of food felt dry and tasteless in my mouth. The light hit my mother, reflecting off the shimmers under her skin. I forgot to eat and just stared, relishing the memory of Drake’s skin, his wings, and how they felt under my fingers.
Dad slammed his hands on the table. Mam and I both jumped, and I forgot to ignore him.
“Stop looking at her like that,” he said to me.
I turned back at my food. Mam spoke in a loud voice about what they were going to do together after dinner. I took the hint. I cleared my plate when my mother did and waited until Dad left the room to escape upstairs.
He was waiting for me, pacing in the hallway. I hesitated, put my head down, and started to move past him, but he blocked my way, cuffing my shoulder as he stretched out his arm.
He pushed me against the wall and gripped my throat, glaring at me as if I were made of everything on earth he despised. He was drunker than I thought. He hadn’t always been so bad. Darragh had been the buffer we both missed.
“It should have been you,” he hissed. “Not him. Never him. You shouldn’t even have been born.”
I avoided his eyes, staring over his shoulder at a spot on the wall. I thought I saw tiny fluttering wings.
He shook me, tightening his grip. “Did you hear me? Did you hear what I said? You little—”
“Hon! Our film’s on.” My mother sidled up to my father and wrapped her arm around his waist. “Let’s grab some snacks before we sit down.”
His fingers loosened, and he shook his head as if confused. He let her lead him away, as meek as a lamb. Behind his back, she signalled for me to leave, and I did, feeling guilty for ruining her evening yet again. That was our family cycle: hate, confusion, pretence, guilt.
I didn’t get why my father hated everything about me, and I didn’t understand why my mother let him bully me. I definitely didn’t know why my brother had taken his life that Christmas.
I trudged upstairs and traced a fingertip across the faery ornaments that took up an entire shelf. They crowded together, many of them with insipid smiles and childishly friendly demeanours. Real fae were nothing like them, even in the books, but I had collected them anyway. Underneath that shelf were books on tattoo designs and sketchbooks full of my own ideas. I was no good at drawing, but I liked to plan. The rest of the shelves were full of my obsessions, right down to the nail art supplies on the bottom one. I didn’t dare look at the boxes under the bed again.
I touched the locket as I sat down to check out V.G. Love’s website. The banner had a scarily realistic bunch of faeries heading the page. Some were warriors, just like the bodyguards, just like the black-winged faery. I shuddered at the memory of his smile.
Checking out the site led me to more of Love’s faery novels. I chewed on my thumb as I composed a message in my head. I needed to make contact. Just in case.
I’ve read and enjoyed one of your books. I wondered where you got your ideas from – things like refilling cups and golden grapes. Ever seen fruit that bubbles like acid?
Cara
I deleted and rewrote the message numerous times before I pressed Send. I doubted I’d hear back, but maybe I had found someone who knew the truth. Maybe that someone could help me make the longing to go back leave for good.
Chapter Six
On New Year’s Eve, I awoke with a start. It was pitch black outside, apart from fireworks in the distance. Alone and bored, I had fallen asleep long before midnight.
A voice called my name. I climbed out of bed and looked out the window. Two people were at my front door. Bleary-eyed, I assumed my parents had forgotten their keys.
I ran downstairs and opened the door. “How did you—”
I stopped and stared. A beautiful young woman with black hair stood on my stoop. I didn’t recognise her, but next to her was a pale shimmering creature I thought I would never see again.
“Drake?”
He touched my arm, and a shudder ran through me.
“What are you… how…?”
He stared at me with cool green eyes. Wrong. All wrong.
I narrowed my gaze, brushing away his hand. “I don’t know who you are, but leave me the hell alone.”
I slammed the door and leaned against it, waiting for something to happen, the house to burst into flames or something. The pair exchanged murmurs, then they went away. I ran up to my room to look out the window, but they were both gone. Whoever they had been, I couldn’t help feeling they would be back.
I sat on my bed and chewed my nails. He had looked exactly like Drake… except for those eyes. But why? Drake had warned me about illusions and glamours, but the guy had seemed so real. The wings, the shimmering veins, it had all been Drake. But the eyes were a dead giveaway.
And he had touched me, which renewed the longing I had felt since leaving the fae. That hadn’t been accidental.
When my parents returned, I pretended to be asleep. I could give my mother one decent night without an argument. But more importantly, I needed to think about what I would do if Fake Drake returned.
Seeing the fae pair had unleashed everything I had been trying to outrun. The need and the yearning burst out of their hiding hole and set me aflame all over again. I wanted to go back. I needed to spend a little more time with them. But Drake hadn’t saved my life for nothing. I couldn’t repay him by playing fae games again, no matter how much I desperately wanted that.
***
Zoe and I had plans to eat out on New Year’s Day, but she was late, so I sat in front of the television while I waited for her to show. Mam had gone shopping since Dad had been hungover all afternoon.
I was already getting impatient when Dad came into the living room, took one long look at me, and changed the station to some boring golf game. He didn’t even like golf. I sensed his anger, felt it bristling in the air, so I decided it would be better to avoid the inevitable confrontation.
I rose and strode toward the door. He stretched out his feet as I passed, almost tripping me. I kept walking, but my fists squeezed tightly by my sides. One day, I would reach my limit. One day, he would be sorry for every petty thing he had done to me. And one day, I’d lose my mother because of him. I didn’t want one day to come any time soon. I pulled on my jacket and went outside to wait for Zoe.
Five minutes later, she came rushing down the street, her oversized bag bouncing in her hand. “Sorry, sorry! I’m not that late.”
I had to laugh. “You’ve made me wait for longer.”
“Come on then. I’m half starved.”
We strolled toward the bus stop. My hands kept shaking—partly because of Dad, mostly from the fae visit the previous night. What had they wanted? I kind of regretted not finding out more. Maybe they would never return.
I shook my head. I didn’t want them to return. Or rather, I wanted it, but I definitely didn’t need it. The fae withdrawals had been fading. The visit had brought them back with a bang. Fake Drake touching me had been like taking a drag and triggering a weird addiction.
“You okay there, Cara? You look like you’re having an argument with yourself.”
I looked at Zoe. “Sorry. Dad was just his usual pleasant self before I left.”
“Ah, I see. That’s why you were outside, freezing your arse off. You okay?”
“Of course,” I said as cheerily as possible. “He doesn’t bother me.”
She gave me that look, the one that said she didn’t believe me, but she wasn’t going to force me to talk about it. That was why we were best friends. For all the things she did that annoyed me, she did the right things when it counted most.
“You can stay at my place if you want. Anytime. You know how scared I am of the dark.”
Grinning, I linked arms with her and did my best to actually pay attention to what she wanted to talk about: Darren.
“I know it’s kind of cheap and tacky, but that’s why I love it,” she lied, holding up the ring he had managed to dredge up from somewhere.
I shook my head. “I still don’t get why you even want it.”
“That’s what we’re supposed to do. You go out for a few years, get engaged, buy a house, do all of the wedding and baby stuff, and then…” She sighed.
“What then?”
She looked away. “And then I live unhappily ever after and moan at my own children until they do the very same things that make me miserable.”
“I’m pretty sure being exactly like our parents isn’t a strict requirement.”
She raised her face to the sky and smiled. “This year will be our year, Cara. I feel it in my bones. It’s getting closer, you know.”
“What is?”
Her face was stricken when she looked at me. “Adulthood. We’ll have to grow up. Time’s running out to have fun and be free.”
“You’re warped. I hope you know that.”
She pouted. “Stop judging my life. You know I hate that.”
“What do you really want to do? I mean, seriously.”
“Keep a good, clean house that a man wants to run home to,” she said in a tight voice. Her dad had run away, but that never stopped her mother from spouting that line. He made up for the desertion by throwing money at Zoe when all she ever wanted was his time.
“Zoe,” I said softly.
“I want to run away,” she said. “Just like him. But he got there first, so I’m stuck with her forever. Getting married is the only thing that’s good enough to let me go. I’m going to live in that house, terrified of spilling crumbs, until I’m too old to do anything else with my life.”
“We could go. Leave together. Be roommates or something.”
“Then who will put her to bed at night?” She smiled wryly. “I’m just bitching because it’s another new year with feck-all to look forward to. Except Darren, and she actually brought up the idea of him moving in.”
I laughed at the thought of Darren’s scruffy runners on her mother’s spotless rug. Zoe caught my eye, and we both giggled until we had tears rolling from our eyes.
We had a long therapeutic chat over dinner, and afterward, Zoe persuaded me to wait with her outside for a lift home from Darren.
“He’s worse than you for not showing up,” I complained after forty-five minutes had passed.
“He has to pick up Eoin first.”
I groaned.
“I told him not to,” she insisted. “I’ll sit in the back with you, so he keeps his hands off.”
I let out a snort. “He’ll lose his hands if he puts them where they aren’t wanted.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but her gaze drifted over my shoulder. Her eyes widened.
I turned to look and jumped. “Jesus!”
Fake Drake stood right there, too close. I hadn’t heard or sensed him. He looked different. His hair was shorter, though it covered his ears, and more blond than silver. His face was less angular and even more human looking. His green eyes were unreadable.
We stared at each other in silence until Zoe cleared her throat.
“Introductions, Cara?”
Fake Drake didn’t break eye contact.
Unsettled, I found I couldn’t look away either. “This is Drake.”
“We need to talk,” he said. Even the timbre of his voice was different. He wasn’t Drake, and yet, as I stood there, I imagined he could be a human version of Drake, one I could maybe get to know in the light where nothing was trying to kill us.
“Sounds ominous,” Zoe said. She touched my arm. “Darren’s here.”
I looked over at the car and saw Darren and Eoin. I turned to Fake Drake again. Zoe cleared her throat, waiting for me to make a choice.
I hesitated, holding my breath, but there was no choice. “Can I call you later?” I asked Zoe.
Disappointment flashed across her face. “You better. Nice to kinda meet you, Drake.”
He was still staring at me when my friends drove off.
“What do you want?” I asked, unbalanced by his silence.
“I’ve been watching you.”
“Well, that’s not creepy at all.”
He frowned for a split second. “I needed to see if you were a sympathiser.”
I waited for him to explain. When he didn’t, I pushed past him. He grabbed my arm and pulled me off the main street and down a deserted side street. I let him, my heart racing in anticipation of finding out something that most people would never know. The secrets called to me, made it worth the risk. Or maybe I was addicted to taking risks. More likely, I was addicted to fae magic. He pushed me against a wall and leaned close, blocking me from passersby.
“Is this a glamour?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “Making yourself look like him?”
“Making myself fit into your world is a glamour. Looking like him wasn’t my choice.”
“Who are you?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m not stupid.”
“I’m sure you’re not.” His lips twitched. “But it’s hard to explain. I need your help. I need to know you’ll help me.”
“I don’t even know who you are or what you want. At least try to—”
“The Winter Solstice,” he interrupted. “You were there, with… him.”
“Not by choice. Not really.” Sometimes I wasn’t sure.
“You were a witness. You played a pivotal role in what happened. So did he.”
“I don’t even know what happened,” I said. “Drake got me out of there, and I couldn’t get back in.”
He hesitated, flickers of emotions crossing his face in waves. “The queens are dead. The courts are lost. I can bring them back together, but I’m not the only one making a claim for the throne. To be sure of my chances, I have to be absolved of all blame. I need you to tell them what happened, that I didn’t draw first blood, that I didn’t taint the Solstice, and that the queens brought their own downfall upon themselves.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know what happened!”
“The queens’ bodyguards threatened you and fought each other over you. They broke ancient laws by spilling blood on sacred ground, but all you need to do is say how you got there and what happened after that.”
“I don’t care about any of that! What happened to Drake?”
He sagged against the wall, wrapping his arm around me for support. His face paled, and he shook his head. He looked as though he wanted to vomit. He blinked, and when he looked at me, his eyes were violet and familiar.
I froze. “What the hell?” I whispered. “Drake?”
“I need to… sit down. The magic takes a lot out of me. I don’t have long. Don’t trust him, Cara, no matter what he says.”
“There’s a café around the corner. You can rest and have a hot drink, something sugary and—oh, wait. Will you be able for the iron and pollutants and whatever?”
He snorted derisively, and relief flooded through me that he wasn’t going to pass out or anything. I helped him to the café and bought us both a coffee. I was almost as shaky as he was.
“So?” I said when he began to look a little less nauseous.
“Are you all right?” he asked, surprising me.
“Um, yeah. I got out, but…” I shrugged. “You know more than me.”
“They planned it that way.” He took a sip of his drink and grimaced.
“Who did?”
“The king, the banshees, all of them. I don’t think I was part of the plan, but you certainly were.”
“What king?”
“The queens were murdered that night. It was all a big scheme, a trick. The banshees resurrected their king. He’s the one who needs your help.”
“I don’t get it.”
He slapped his chest. “He’s in me. They sent his soul into my body. We’re soul bound. Something went wrong. I was supposed to fade away, but I can’t.
We’re both in here, fighting for space, and that’s what he really wants your help with. He thinks you’re keeping me here, that we knew each other already. He thinks that’s why I helped you because he can’t see any other way. He wants you to help him get rid of me.”
“I won’t do it,” I said firmly. “Don’t worry. I won’t do anything that will—”
“You don’t have a choice.”
I stared at him in surprise.
He sighed heavily. “The fae need a leader. There’s mayhem right now, and it’ll only get worse. The worst kind of fae are running free, no longer afraid of consequences. Until the king’s power is restored in full, nobody has the power to contain them all. You can help him, and he can help me do what I need to do before I fade. You can never trust him, but you can help prevent someone worse from taking the throne.”
“But I—”
“People will die if you don’t,” he said in a low voice. “We can’t be free, no matter how much we want to make it so. He’s been king before, and he’s of the old blood. He can’t be any worse than the tainted queens. But don’t tell him anything about me. And never trust him. I’m asking for your help, too, just for a while.”
He blinked again, and his eyes turned green.
“I need you,” the king said urgently. “So does Drake. I’m weak with him here, and that makes me a target. They’ll come for me, and if I die, he does, too. You don’t want that, do you?”
“You’re already hurting him. Look at you.”
He was shaking again.
“It’s this body.” He gave me a wry smile. “He’s not even pure faery. He’s tougher than he looks, but they brought the strongest soul back into the weakest body.”