CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

I SPUN RAPIDLY to face the house. Clay stood next to the door, wrapped in the blanket from our bed. His still sleepy eyes blinked at me in shock, and his mouth twisted in horror. The snow and soft moonlight reflected off his paling face, making him appear almost as a specter. He’d been standing right behind me as I’d been talking with Aiden, but I had no idea how much of the conversation he’d heard. Once his arrival registered, I leaped up to race over to him before wrapping my arms around his waist in a comforting gesture.

“The truth about your family,” I murmured against his chest. “The real story about Louise.”

“What about her?” he asked slowly, his tone steady and careful, as he extracted himself from my hold.

“I believe this might be the pertinent time to seek out Aunt Fiona. She’ll want to know that you know this,” Aiden said before darting off into the darkness, leaving me alone to face Clay’s wrath.

Chicken! I rolled my eyes at his fast exit. Of course he would leave me alone to deal with the mess his words might cause.

“What’s happening, Evie?” Clay asked. A hint of betrayal that had been evident earlier was back and coloring his voice with doubt.

His distrust made me pause; I could think of a number of occasions that should have tested his faith in me before, but each time he’d believed in me—in us. It appeared that his unflappable trust had faltered, and I couldn’t be certain if it was because he’d been so shaken by his mother’s revelation or whether he honestly believed I could lie to him about something so important. His doubt toward me hurt more than I could possibly have imagined it would and added guilt to the raft of emotions that were warring within me. Had he experienced this pain all of the times I’d allowed my trust in him to waver? Never again, I promised myself.

“What new truth did you find out now?” he prompted with a sneer when I didn’t respond. “Did you and your lover have a good laugh over this? It has to be some fucked up practical joke, right? Jokes on me, ha ha ha.”

I stood rigid in response to his hateful words and spiteful tongue. I reminded myself that he was lashing out, trying to lessen his own pain by inflicting it on others. I’d done the same thing to him as he prepared to leave me in Charlotte years before. That didn’t mean his words weren't able to penetrate into my heart and make it bleed as surely as a physical blow would though.

“I have to explain a few things first,” I said. I couldn’t leap straight into my belief that his father had inflicted many—if not all—of Louise’s wounds. I needed to come at the problem the same way Aiden had, by explaining the fae reasoning behind changelings. It could take hours to make Clay understand that, and I didn’t want him to succumb to the cold and end up getting sick. “Can we please go inside?”

“No,” his voice was firm and unwavering.

It was immediately clear that he wouldn’t back down until I’d told him everything, even if that meant standing on the porch in the freezing cold for the next few hours. Not that I would ever make him wait that long.

“Just tell me.”

I tried to find an angle that I thought he might understand. “When I was living with the fae, I spent a lot of time with the fledglings—their children. I used to go to the classrooms because it was such a vibrant atmosphere.”

Clay nodded and waved his hand impatiently. This was all part of the story I’d told him only hours earlier. Nothing new and certainly nothing that he needed to know.

“All of the fae, every single one of them, were enamored by the fledglings in the court; their safety and happiness was always the utmost priority.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Clay interrupted. His nostrils flared as his anger burst through the dam. The cold froze his breath and filled the air with little bursts of steam.

“It has everything to do with it,” I fired back, responding to his infuriating tone before I could calm down by reminding myself of everything he’d been through. “If you’ll just listen long enough to hear the story. We’d be more comfortable inside.”

“Now you’re even starting to sound like them,” he growled before taking another stride away from me, leaving me stranded and alone on the edge of the porch. “Just spit it out already!”

“Please promise me that you’ll stay calm,” I begged, closing the distance between us, but holding back far enough for him to understand I was respecting his need for space. “Please?”

“Just tell me,” he said, his voice trailing off into a growl of frustration.

“Aiden was explaining his duties, the tasks he and the other protectors have to undertake.”

“So?”

“One of those is the placement of changelings.” In the instant before the words left my mouth, I knew I had made a mistake, but it was too late to take them back.

Once the word “changeling” had passed my lips, Clay’s mouth twisted into an angry grimace as the blanket he’d been holding dropped away, his fingers curled into tight fists before loosening, only to be curled tighter still. The tension rolled through his muscles as his body grew rigid.

“That sick son-of-a-bitch!” He tried to push by me, preparing to follow Aiden into the darkness.

“No, you don’t understand.” I placed my hand on his chest to still him. Even if I hadn’t been concerned for Aiden’s safety, I wouldn’t have wanted him to go. The shadow could still have been lurking somewhere in the dark forest, not to mention the natural dangers hidden by the snow and darkness in the rugged landscape.

“Evie, you said to me once that you hated ultimatums but that I would have to choose between you and my family. I made that choice; I chose you. I turned my back on them, on everything I knew. I did that for you. Can’t you do the same?”

“This isn’t the same thing,” I said quickly, trying to diffuse the situation I’d created with my careless word choice. “I’m not taking their side; I’m trying to tell you the truth. I’m trying to tell you what you need to know. Louise isn’t a changeling!”

Clay’s dark eyes assessed me closely, as if he was trying to work out whether he even knew me at all. He scoffed. “He’s sure got you fooled, doesn’t he?”

I closed my eyes as the pain of his mistrust struck me again. Had Clay felt this way when I left him in Missouri?

“I haven’t been fooled by anyone.” The tears that threatened me were evident in my voice. “I’m speaking from my own experience.”

Opening my eyes, I raised my gaze to meet his, hoping he would see the truth in my words. I hadn’t been deceived, and I wasn’t trying to fool him. Everything I’d seen at the court, I had witnessed before the fae had known of my connection to the Rain—before there’d been a need to hide anything.

“Well, they wouldn’t show you the worst parts of their life, would they?” he huffed.

“No, of course they wouldn’t,” I agreed before shifting closer to him. I was relieved when he didn’t instantly back farther away. “But I know what I saw while I was there, and because of that, I believe what Aiden has told me.”

“Which is?”

“That Louise was never replaced. That Fiona is your mother. That Louise is—”

“No,” he cried before shaking his head fiercely. “I don’t believe it.”

“She was a fledgling,” I finished, taking care with my tone. “If it’s true then it changes everything you thought. It changes the meaning behind everything that was done to her. And who might have—”

“No!” he shouted.

I jumped at the ferocity of his voice. My heart raced and my skin warmed as I struggled to get my breathing back under control. The snow at my feet hissed and spat as it instantly melted into a puddle of water.

Clay must have realized that his anger had scared me. He forced his eyes shut, squeezing them so tightly closed that I wondered whether it was starting to hurt.

Blowing out a visible breath, he slowly opened his eyes again. The anger in them had softened, but the confusion was still clear. When he spoke, his tone was gentler. “Dad wouldn’t have lied to us; it’s not possible.”

“Are you positive about that?” I asked, reaching forward to place my hand on his chest.

“Evie, he’s my dad.” He seemed pained as he answered.

I didn’t think that pointing out that he was talking about a man who had callously murdered countless creatures, some of them possibly innocent, and who had been involved in my father’s death, would help my case, so I tried again to get him to listen to what I was certain was the truth. “If it wasn’t the fae who stole Louise, there is only one other possibility,” I pointed out.

“No, Dad couldn’t . . . He wouldn’t . . .”

“Are you sure? With everything he’s done, can you say with one hundred percent certainty that he wouldn’t have hurt a fledgling?”

“I . . . I . . .” He dropped his head and sighed heavily. “No, you know I can’t.”

“Can you please just listen to the rest of Fiona’s story?” I asked. “If not for her, then do it for me? We need to know more about what we might be getting into if we agree to help rescue Mackenzie.”

“Why do you care so much about them?” He threw his hand toward the direction Aiden had gone. “Do you love him?”

“I don’t,” I said with absolute certainty. Despite the guilt I’d feel over not helping, I was positive I could walk away from them without a second glance. At least, I could have if it wouldn’t personally affect Clay and me if I did. “I care about you. I love you. If Fiona’s story is true, we need to know what that means for you.”

“What could it possibly mean?”

“Well, for starters it means that you might, at least in part, be fae. That has to mean something, right? You can only work out how it will affect your life once you know everything.”

“I’m nothing special, Evie.” The anger had been completely quelled, and all that was left was shame and self-loathing.

“Don’t say that,” I said, placing my head against his chest now that he was no longer trying to run from me. “Because you are. You’re special to me.”

He wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on the top of my head. His breathing was still a little erratic, and his heart beat loudly against my cheek. “Okay, I’ll listen . . . but only for you.”

It was his way of putting his trust in me again; the relief wrapped around me like a warm embrace. “Thank you.”

After he apologized one more time for the things he’d said, we withdrew into the warmth of our little hut to wait for Aiden and Fiona to return. I was certain after Aiden told her that Clay would soon learn the truth about Louise, Fiona would try to make contact again. Only, we couldn’t be sure if they would take minutes or hours to return. There was no guarantee that my intuition was right, but neither of us could sleep regardless.

While we waited, we both got dressed in comfortable clothes, sliding our thick winter jackets over the top. Clay grabbed a small travel bag with a set of IDs and credit cards for each of us, something he had ready at all times. Now that we knew the fae were aware of our remote hideout, and with the reappearance of the shadow, we didn’t think we could risk staying any longer. Regardless of the outcome of the meeting, we would have to say good-bye to our little house and move to the next location, wherever that might be.

When Fiona and Aiden returned, they brought a surprise with them. Fiona hung back as Aiden offered me a thermos. With one glance at the item, long before he could speak the words to confirm it, I knew what he was suggesting, and I knew it was going to have to be Clay’s choice.

“We were hoping you would agree to return to New York with us,” Fiona said, looking everywhere but at Clay, even though I was certain her request was more for him than for me. “If you wish to offer no further assistance once you have learned all of the details, I give my solemn oath to return you to here and attempt no further contact.”

“You’re hoping that we will help though, aren’t you?” I asked.

“I cannot deny that,” she murmured. “The truth is the thought of my sweet Mackenzie at the mercy of that man—”

“That man is my father,” Clay said, cutting her off.

“And how would he be treating me right now if I was in her place?” I asked.

Clay closed his eyes, no doubt at the images that assaulted him at my words. He knew as well as I did that even if the Rain were keeping Mackenzie alive, they wouldn’t exactly be hospitable toward a fae. It was likely that she was suffering. Clay probably knew better than any of us how badly.

I grabbed the thermos from Aiden and held it tightly. “Whatever’s in here—”

“It’s chicken noodle soup,” Aiden interrupted with a grin—no doubt he considered it hilarious that he’d recreated my first taste of fae food for this trip.

I cast him an evil glare—it wasn’t exactly the time for inside jokes or running commentary—before continuing. “Whatever’s in here will be enchanted,” I explained to Clay. “It will mean you’ll be able to see the fae world and travel with fae via the fairy rings.”

Clay leaned against me and whispered in my ear. “I don’t know about this.”

“The effects are only temporary,” I assured him. “They usually last between six and twelve hours. I spent ten months living on the stuff, and there’s nothing wrong with it—in fact, I’d still say it’s the best food I’ve ever tasted.”

The look on Clay’s face showed he wasn’t convinced, so I unscrewed the lid on the thermos and, after checking that it wasn’t too hot, took a mouthful. Almost instantly, the wooziness of the enchantment struck as my vision adjusted to the fae influence in the room. My stomach churned and a breeze brushed my hair across my face. A rustling sound drew my eyes to Aiden, and I saw that he was flexing his wings deliberately to get my attention. He gave me a small grin when he understood I could see them again. The sight was still as surreal as ever—maybe even more so after so many years and so many months of relative normalcy with Clay.

“See,” I said, holding the thermos out to Clay with my eyes screwed shut again as I tried to accustom myself to the unusual sensation. It had been so long since I’d had any fae food that I wasn’t as used to the effects as I once was. “After the initial kick, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Taking a few deep breaths, I opened my eyes to see Clay taking a sip as well.

I gasped at the sight of him, because his aura was completely different to any I’d ever seen. Instead of being nonexistent like most human’s, Clay’s aura burst around his face in a manner I’d only ever seen on a fae. It was muted, but unmistakable. He didn’t have the wings of the fae, but he wasn’t completely human either.

“Do you see?” Aiden questioned quietly.

I nodded, speechless at the sight in front of me.

“See what?” Clay forced through clenched teeth as he closed his eyes—no doubt experiencing similar reactions to the fae food that I had. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed as if in pain, and I longed for the last of the dizziness to pass so that I could help him.

“Your aura,” I said. “It’s positively glowing.” It wasn’t quite as vibrant as the colors that burst from Fiona and Aiden, but it was definitely there.

Clay lurched forward, dropping the thermos to the ground as he cried out in pain. His aura burst out evenly from his body, burning brighter than before. It pulsated around him, wider and wider until it was only slightly less pronounced than Aiden’s. Dropping the thermos and grabbing at his head, he fell to his knees with a cry of agony. I followed him to the ground, afraid to touch him in case I made his pain worse.

“What’s happening?” I asked him.

“It hurts!” he groaned in agony through labored breaths. “It wasn’t supposed to hurt!”

“What have you done to him?” I asked Aiden sharply.

“Nothing . . . I don’t know . . .” Aiden said uncertainly before glancing sideways at Fiona who had rushed forward when Clay fell but had stopped herself at the last moment.

Clay rocked forward, clutching at his head with his hands. “Goddamn it!” he shouted hoarsely, causing my heart to leap.

I wanted to shout and scream at the fae to fix whatever had gone wrong. Adapting to the enchantments had never been painful for me—nauseating, yes; dizzying, without a doubt; but never, ever painful.

“I’m sorry,” I said repeatedly to Clay instead. He was hurting because I’d persuaded him to listen to Aiden and Fiona. If his pain didn’t stop soon, I would never forgive myself.

After a moment, Clay’s rocking stopped, and he slowly drew his hands away from his face. He opened his eyes and gasped quietly. From the awe on his face, I could guess exactly what he was seeing. The almost flame-like flickering orange and red aura that surrounded my body was certain to be mesmerizing for him—just as the bright aura that radiated from him was to me.

I placed my hand on his cheek again. When I did, my aura sparked and twisted, entwining with the deep, ocean blue that surrounded him. A new light burned from our union, a flickering flame of bright blues and vivid purples.

“I’ve never seen that happen before,” I said quietly, as I glanced up at Aiden and Fiona for guidance.

“It’s because you’re linked so deeply,” Fiona murmured. “You two are meant to be.”

“Entwined auras,” Aiden said meaningfully.

Looking at him, I was about to ask whether that was what he’d meant earlier about it being too hard to fight against the draw to be with Clay, but before I could, I heard a soft chuckle beside me.

“Look at you, Evie,” Clay said. “I never thought you could be more beautiful than you already were, but I was wrong.”

When I met his gaze, I was stunned into silence. Circling around the very edge of his usually dark brown irises was a new, bright blue ring. I traced my thumb along his lower eyelids as I stared in wonder at the change.

“It looks like he’s more fae than I ever would’ve given him credit for,” Aiden said from behind me. “It was just suppressed somehow.”

Clay flinched at the words, but didn’t say anything. I rested my forehead against his and for a moment, we shared the same air. A soft smile even graced his lips, and I knew that whatever else happened we would be okay. In my peripheral vision, I could see our auras flickering out to reach for one another, twisting and dancing like fire against our skin.

“Time is pressing,” Fiona said.

I met Clay’s gaze, and he inclined his head, letting me know he was okay. We were ready to help find Mackenzie.

That’s if she’s still alive.

From the concern that glinted in his eyes, I could see Clay’s thoughts echoed my own. After standing and offering his hand to help me to my feet, his focus shifted to Fiona. “How do you know that she’s even still alive?”

“We have a way of keeping track of our loved ones,” Fiona explained. “I believe humans would refer to it as a sixth sense. It is not a precise art for most of us, and I cannot know for sure where she is or whether she is hurt, but I am certain she is alive. You can feel it too, even now. You might not be fully fae, but you have been blessed with some of our gifts—especially with our enchantments coursing through your veins. You are aware of Evelyn, are you not?”

He frowned in confusion. “Of course I am. She’s right here.”

Fiona stepped closer to him. “I do not mean here.” She flourished her arms in my direction. “I mean here.” She pressed her hand against his heart. “You can feel her in there, can you not? And I would venture to guess that you always have, ever since your first meeting.”

His eyes met mine, and I could see in them that he understood what she was saying.

“Mackenzie is alive. For now,” Fiona said with certainty. “The question remains, are you willing to come with us and hear me out so that we may keep her that way?”

Clay glanced over to me and agreed. I gave him a reassuring smile to let him know that I would be there for him whatever happened. After pausing for a moment to absorb all of the changes that had happened in the last day and to say good-bye to our house, we grabbed our packed bags and followed Aiden and Fiona into the darkness outside of our door.