CHAPTER SEVEN

 

“HE WAS SPECIAL to you?” Clay asked when I finished my story. His voice held the echo of regret for mistakes he’d made years earlier. Truthfully, I didn’t blame Clay for those decisions. We’d both been so young, still trying to find our place in the world. Even with the benefit of hindsight, I couldn’t say for certain that him staying would have been a better choice—we wouldn’t have the strength we did if we hadn’t been forged and strengthened by the fire and trials we’d faced.

It was hard to explain it in a way that didn’t increase his guilt, but finding myself alone so soon after losing my father, it was only logical I would try to find someone, or something, else to fill the void. Clay clearly blamed himself for every bit of agony that I’d endured from the day he found me in Charlotte. For the first time, I wished I could erase the fae part of my history, if only to remove the pain it caused him.

I spun in his arms and offered him a rueful smile. “Yes, for a time he was. I can’t lie about it. I was in a very dark place and, for a while, he provided me with a light I never expected. I honestly don’t think I would have picked myself up off the floor if he hadn’t made me. But that’s what his family does—”

“They help the people that my family kills.” Clay cut me off.

“I wasn’t going to put it quite like that, but yeah, pretty much.”

“I know that you see them as some sort of group of miraculous saviors, but I can’t.” He sighed before closing his eyes. “They tortured Lou. The stories she told me, the nightmares she had every night, her scars . . . I had to help her deal with them all. I know what she did to you, and I hate that part of her for it, I really do. Despite that, I can’t just ignore the things that happened to her. I can’t push them out of my head or forget what the fae did. I know you want me to, and I don’t like disappointing you. For you, I really wish that I could forget it all, but I can’t. I don’t trust them, Evie. I don’t know if I have it in me to ever trust them.”

Resting my head on Clay’s shoulder, I ran my fingers through his hair. “I’m not asking you to. All I want to do is hear Fiona out. Aiden says she needs help; I want to give her that for what she did for me. But if it’s something to do with the Rain, I can’t do that without your help.”

“I don’t even know if I can help them. I turned my back on all of that stuff years ago. I know this Aiden means a lot—”

“Meant,” I clarified. I’d left that world behind years before, and even when I believed I had to run from Clay for my safety, I hadn’t gone back. The idea of returning had never found a footing in my mind. Even in my weakest moment when I’d considered it, it hadn’t felt right. No matter how easy it would have been for me to return to Aiden’s court, the truth was that I didn’t belong there.

“Meant a lot to you, and I know Lou is a threat to us both, but she’s still my sister, and I can’t forget the things she suffered at their hands.”

“You suffered too, didn’t you?” It was evident in the stress he demonstrated even talking about her past. Although his statements weren’t a declaration of loyalty to Louise—he’d already made it clear to me that he’d kill her if she became a significant threat again—his words were a reminder that at one stage, they’d had the close relationship that twins always did. At least, they had until I’d unwittingly come between them.

Even though Clay had made the choices that inevitably led to the divide between them, it was the friendship he shared with me that had initially lit the spark. Regardless of the fact that he’d explicitly told me he didn’t blame me for the gulf, it was impossible for me to shake the guilt.

“I was the one who had to comfort her at night when the dreams became too real. Dad was never there, and Eth didn’t have a clue what to do to help her.”

All of the nights that Clay had soothed me back to sleep after I’d awakened from yet another nightmare flashed through my mind. During our time in Detroit, and even now, so many months after our reunion, visions of smoke and fire or voices shouting cruel words, regularly interrupted our slumber. Whenever those nights arrived, he was there to calm me, and it was clear that he had frequently dealt with similar situations. Even now, the reassuring words that he whispered were always exactly what I needed to hear to calm my racing heart.

“I understand,” I said. “How about a compromise?”

He tilted his head in question.

“Why don’t I meet with Fiona alone, and then once I know what it is that she needs help with, we can decide what to do together?”

He flinched. It was clear her name still bothered him.

“Why’s that name an issue for you?” I asked, brushing his hair back off his face with my fingers.

“Did I ever tell you about my mom?”

A renewed sense of guilt rushed through me. I knew he’d lost his mother during the search for Louise, but he never elaborated on that and I never asked for more information. Our conversation had dredged up demons for both of us. Since our reunion, we’d spent so much time talking about the future but avoided talking in depth about the past. Our histories were overflowing with mistakes and pain for both of us. Now that the reappearance of my past was causing him so much distress, I could only wish that we’d told each other more. I ran my fingers through his hair again to soothe him.

“You didn’t,” I said softly. “You don’t really speak about her. Would you like to tell me?” It was the first time since our initial meeting that he’d even attempted to raise the topic of his mother.

“There isn’t much to tell. She was gone long before Lou came home.”

“What was she like?”

“I only have little snatches of memories I can recall easily. The rest is fuzzy. Most of what I know about her is from stories Dad and Eth have told me.”

“Except the scent of magnolias,” I murmured. “You remembered that.”

“Yeah.” He smiled and gave me a gentle squeeze. “I only know what she looks like from photos and vague dreams I’ve had about her since she left.”

“What happened?” The regret I carried for not knowing enough about him filled me, and I wanted nothing more than to wrap him in my arms as we both lamented our pasts. I wanted to learn more—to discover everything he was willing to share. Other questions sprung to mind, but for now, I would allow him to lead the conversation wherever he wanted it to go.

“Dad worked so hard to get Lou back from the fae, but Mom’s response was to disappear.” His voice was a quiet whisper. “Whenever we asked about her, Dad told us that she couldn’t handle what had been done to her daughter. He always said she was from one of the other elite families and apparently, she couldn’t cope with the fae winning. I’ve seen it myself, someone going off the deep end when a teammate died in the line of duty. I can only imagine what it’d be like to lose someone that means so much to you.” His eyes were hollow as he looked through me, and as if I could reach into his very soul, I could see his thoughts with perfect clarity. He was imagining what it would have been like to lose me permanently. It killed me that I’d given him so much cause for concern. “He didn’t really say much more about her. I think it hurt him too much. He lost his wife trying to rescue his daughter. Secretly, I think he felt like she’d betrayed us all by leaving. We never really knew whether she was alive or not after that.”

“That’s terrible,” I murmured. “How could she just leave without knowing her daughter was safe? How could she leave you and Ethan to deal with the loss of your sister without her to help?”

“I don’t know. Eth remembers her a little more than I do. He always says that she was different near the end, as if the life had just left her. Knowing how I felt when I was told you’d left the hospital in Detroit, and then watching you drive away in the Lincoln in Missouri, I can’t blame her really. Before I came to Europe last time, and even while I was here, I gave in to the darkness too.” We held each other tightly. Both of us had experienced the lows of life and been so near to the point of giving up. “I guess that’s why I can’t be upset about your time with Aiden because I get it. Even though I wish it hadn’t been necessary, I get it. If I could go back in time I’d—”

I pressed my finger to his lips. “We’re both here now. That’s all that matters.”

He rested his head on my shoulder and issued a shaky breath.

“I can ask them to leave if you’d really prefer?” I said, regardless of any debt I believed I owed them, Clay was more important to me than either of the fae who’d come to visit.

He held me closer. “You couldn’t do that, you’d feel too guilty.”

“I would feel guilty,” I agreed. “But if that’s what you need me to do, then I will,” I said, kissing his lips softly before standing. “She’s going to be here soon though, so . . .”

I waited to see what he’d decided to do.

“I’ll go cut some firewood while there’s still some light, if that’s okay with you.” He climbed to his feet behind me and walked to our little tool shed right outside the back door.

“You’ll be careful out there?” I asked. I hadn’t forgotten about the shadow that I might have seen earlier.

He lifted the axe. “I’d like to see someone try something.”

I wasn’t sure whether he was referring to the shadow or the fae, but was certain his training would leave him prepared to deal with either. I reached for him and held my hands around his waist for a few moments.

“Will you be okay?”

“I can handle myself if I need to,” I said to reassure him.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I saw my mistake. He was already distrustful of fae and on edge because of the shadow. I shouldn’t have hinted that there was any risk to me. “Not that I’ll need to,” I added in a rush.

“Shout if you need me,” he said, grabbing the axe on his way out the back door.

Watching him leave, I doubted he’d have much success chopping firewood, figuring he’d be more likely to have his ear close to the back door, listening for any signs of trouble. I was guilt-ridden over the fact I was doing something that so obviously made him uncomfortable, but I couldn’t alter my course now. Even as I wondered once more whether I would be better off asking Fiona to leave, the part of me that was born to protect needed to know what help she wanted and whether we would be able to offer it.

Maybe he’d understand if I explained that need a little better? I know he feels that himself.

The idea was strong enough to make me want to follow him outside, but I considered my guest and was able to rein in the desire. Instead, I headed toward the front window. Watching the white, snow-covered expanse, I saw Fiona walking toward our little house from the forest we’d attempted to hunt in earlier.

Although her hair bounced loosely around her shoulders like always, her face showed obvious signs of being careworn. The smile I’d grown accustomed to seeing on her lips during the time I’d lived among them was absent, and the light in her eyes—which used to be especially bright like most fae—seemed muted and dull. Despite the changes in her appearance, she floated toward the cabin with typical fae grace. Only in the last second did I see the set of her chin was angled lower than I’d ever seen it before. Any hints of the proud woman she’d been were all but swept away. At the bottom of the stairs, she closed her eyes and took a handful of deep breaths. She purposefully straightened her back and set her features into a mask of calm before taking the final stairs to our door.

I wondered what could have happened to cause her such obvious distress and believed that I’d made the right decision. If Clay and I could help lift some of her worry, it was worth a little discomfort of our own.

The instant I opened the door to welcome her, she reached to embrace me. The gesture seemed strange given how much time had passed since I’d seen her last, and everything that had transpired since, but I returned it willingly. Leaning into her arms was like inhaling the scent from a huge bouquet of flowers. I’d forgotten how wonderful the atmosphere was around the fae.

When I’d first moved into the court, I assumed the fae had selected the East Meadow of Central Park because of the delightfully floral scent. It wasn’t until I’d been out with Aiden a few times that I discovered it was the other way around—the scent was in the air because of the fae.

“I’m afraid that I don’t really have anywhere to offer you to sit,” I muttered, my words an embarrassed apology.

“That’s fine, I’m happy to stand,” she said sadly, as she glanced around the small space. “But where’s—” She stopped and stole another deep breath before focusing back on my face. “Where’s Clay?”

“He . . .” I tried to think of the best explanation for his absence. I didn’t want to tell her the truth—that he wasn’t ready or overly willing to help a fae, or that I wasn’t sure that he ever would be. “He’s gathering some supplies that we need before nightfall.”

“I really hoped that he would be here as well,” she said, the disappointment in her tone told me that she understood more of my explanation than I’d wanted her to. Her voice seemed tinged with desperation as she continued, “I hoped . . .” She sighed heavily. “I can’t even really articulate exactly what it is that I had hoped for, but I am in desperate need of assistance. From the both of you.”

“I understand,” I said. “And I promise we’re not ruling out helping you. But you do have to understand how difficult it is for someone with Clay’s background to trust us.” I whispered the last word to let her know I counted myself as an outsider to the human race as well. By all rights, I should have faced as much of Clay’s ire as any fae and even though I knew he loved me, I still had moments where I wondered why he’d been able to look past what I was long enough to find the love in his heart. “I’m sure he’ll come around once he knows what you need. Will you tell me what that is, so that I can try to convince him?”

She dropped her head into her hands, and her shoulders slumped forward as a sob escaped her body.

“There’s so much I need to explain to both of you,” she murmured.

“Try explaining it to me. I’ll make sure the message gets to Clay.” I put a hand on her arm to offer her some support. Whatever she needed to say was obviously causing her distress.

“It is the Rain,” she whispered with a strained voice. “They stole my daughter.”

“Why?” I asked, not to press her for more details but because I was in shock. My heart was in my throat as I processed her words and considered the dreadful circumstances. I knew the Rain was capable of despicable acts—I had a long line of them committed against my family and me—but to take a child was completely unforgivable. I thought about Luke, the boy who’d been murdered—together with his mother—just for helping me. My father. All the lives that had been lost to the Rain.

Maybe nothing they do should surprise me.

“Because she is fae,” Fiona sobbed quietly. “But above all, because she is my daughter.”

“Why does that matter?” I asked, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and offering her every bit of sympathy I could. My own fear of the Rain made it easy for me to empathize with her.

“How much do you recall of our court?”

I grimaced. I didn’t remember as much as I probably should, considering the length of time I lived there. Instead of paying attention to their society, I’d focused on trying to convince myself to be happy with Aiden despite the persistent dreams I’d had of Clay. I’d spent months drifting in a haze of self-delusion. “Not much really.”

She lifted her head and smiled sadly through her tears. “That is not at all surprising, dear; if I recall correctly you were otherwise occupied most of the time.”

A warmth that had nothing to do with my abilities and everything to do with embarrassment crept over my cheeks. She was being so sweet when I had unwittingly been so rude to her during my time with her family. At the time, I hadn’t been concerned with how much I was holding myself separate from the majority of the court because I was trying to hide from my past and was too scared to hope for the future.

Since leaving the fae, I’d barely given any consideration to Aiden or his family. When I left though, he hadn’t been the only one I turned my back on. I’d abandoned the very people who had welcomed me openly into their lives. Worse, I’d done it with barely a second thought.

“I’m sorry for how it ended,” I murmured, remembering the sight of Aiden with Willow and how it made me feel nothing but a desperate need to have Clay back in my life.

“I understand, probably more than most people in the realm could. Especially now, after what Aiden’s told me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I left once too. I turned my back on everyone I knew and, just like you, I did it all for love.” She touched my face gently. “Anyone could tell that you and Aiden were not meant to be. It is a shame you could not remain friends in the end, but I really do not think anyone blames you for leaving to find your true happiness.”

Meeting her eyes, and hearing her kind words of forgiveness, I immediately felt worse. She’d come to us for help, and I’d twisted the conversation back around onto me. It hadn’t been my intention, but that didn’t stop me from feeling guilty.

“Forget about me,” I said. “Why do you think the Rain targeted your daughter specifically?”

I regretted the question instantly because her face fell and the darkness that had inhibited her earlier seemed to fall on her features again. It was almost as if our talk of the past had given her something else to focus on, even for a moment.

She wrapped her arms tightly around her body. “I am responsible for our court. The Matriarch of the family if you will.”

I nodded. That much I did remember. It was hard to forget the regal air she carried at all times.

“That fact alone makes my family extraordinarily important to the Rain, but that is not the only reason . . . At least, it is not the real reason . . .” She paused again, needing a moment to compose herself. “Many, many years ago, I fell in love with a human.”

“That’s when you left?” I asked.

Her head bobbed sadly. “More or less. However, it was clear I would be unable to be with him and stay with my family. I had to choose, and I chose him.”

“What happened?” I asked.

Before she had a chance to answer, the back door swung open.

“I waited as long as I could, but the sun’s setting, and I don’t want to risk being alone in the dark right now,” Clay said as he entered through the back door.

My gaze swung toward the sound, watching as he moved from the small alcove with arms still filled with firewood. An involuntary smile crossed my lips before it occurred to me an instant later that I should probably have been concerned that he was back so quickly and that our guest was still in our little house. The next few minutes were bound to be awkward as I tried to pry the information I needed from Fiona in a hurry and get her outside before Clay could become too uncomfortable.

“You’ve finished haven’t—” His voice cut off as the firewood and axe in his arms crashed to the floor with a loud bang that echoed through the house.

“Oh my God! Clay, are you all right?” I leaped toward him, but something on his face stilled me.

He was staring straight ahead as if caught in a spell. I followed his gaze to where it fell, squarely upon Fiona. She stared back at him with a similar shocked expression on her face.

I was about to tell him we shouldn’t be much longer when Fiona spoke, cutting me off.

“Clay,” she breathed, clearly recognizing him from somewhere.

How does she know him? I wondered what I’d missed until Clay’s voice rang out with both disbelief and horror.

The emotions were clear in his incredulous questioning, despite the fact that he uttered only one, single, solitary word.

“Mom?”