My mother gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.
Her look of abject horror nearly made me laugh.
“Do you hate what you are that much?”
I wanted to say yes, but the truth was I only hated the fae parts I got from her. The rest, well, I loved and cherished.
As if realizing my thoughts, she said, “Do you hate me that much, Nina, that you would disfigure yourself, cause yourself that much more pain just to spite me?”
I didn’t answer her, but looked away, resting my head back onto the mattress, and sighed. I refused to feel the guilt that bubbled inside me like acid. “How do I hide them?”
She gave me a little nod. “I will teach you, but first, you should sleep. Your body needs the rest.”
I didn’t argue, but closed my eyes and let sleep take me away. At least for a little while, I wouldn’t have to think about how to keep a pair of faery wings from friends and the people I worked with. I wouldn’t have to think about how to hide from an entire society that feared the unknown.
***
Chapter 13
When I woke, I was in the same position I’d been when I went to sleep—on my stomach in my bed, a pair of wings protruding grotesquely from between my shoulder blades.
Groaning, I pushed up to sit on the edge of the bed, my pounding head in my hands. The aching felt like I’d been on a week-long bender. I glanced behind me at the bed and winced. The sight was like a slumber party massacre had taken place. I would have to replace the mattress for sure. That much blood didn’t scrub out with any type of cleaner or manual labor.
I stood to get dressed but realized I had no clue how to get a shirt over my newly acquired appendages. Instead, I walked to the full-length mirror I had in the corner to inspect my new look.
From the front, the wings rose about two feet over my shoulders. I turned to the side and studied them. As wings went, they were delicate and pretty. But not something I was overjoyed to be shackled with. How the hell was I going to do anything with them in the way? My whole life I’d been trying to hide my alienness but these, these things just popped up and proclaimed, “Hey, I’m not totally human.”
“They essentially disappear when you glamour them.”
I whipped around to see my mother framed in the doorway. My hands rose to cover my boobs. “Jesus, don’t you knock?”
“Apparently not.” She came all the way in, and handed me a tea cup.
I looked in at the thick pea green concoction swirling around. The brew smelled worse than it looked. “What is it?”
“Glamour. Drink it and your wings will vanish from sight.”
“Will I still feel them?”
She nodded. “Physically, you’ll know they are there. But no one else will be able to see or feel them.”
Wrinkling my nose at the horrid stench, I put the cup to my mouth and drained the liquid in one healthy swallow. My stomach lurched at the foreign intrusion. The drink tasted even worse than it smelled.
Astonished, I watched in the mirror as my wings slowly turned invisible. I moved side to side, from front to side. They were gone from view, although I could totally “feel” them poking out of my back. I reached over my shoulder and brushed my hand through the space they should’ve occupied. Nothing.
My mother tossed me a tank top.
I pulled it over my head and pushed my arms through. It went on unhindered.
“I’ll show you how to make the tincture. You’ll need to grow the Anise in your garden. The moonflowers and fir needles are already flourishing. And the rest you’ll have to bargain for.”
“Bargain with whom?”
“Nightfall.”
“That’s just perfect.” I groaned, and rubbed my chin. “How long does it last?”
“Twenty-four hours.”
I stared. “That’s it? I’m going to have to drink this shit every day for the rest of my life?”
“Yes, if you want to keep the illusion that you’re human.”
“I am human.” I tossed the words at her, as I brushed past to head downstairs.
She followed me. “But you’re not, darling. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better off you’ll be. Maybe you’ll actually find happiness in your life.”
“Stop calling me darling. You gave up that right years ago.” I stomped off the last step then marched down the hall to the kitchen. She was right behind me. “And I am happy.”
She ignored that, and said, “Fine. I deserve that but what we need to really talk about is Severin Saint Morgan and why he was here last night.”
“No, we really don’t.” I opened the fridge and took out the milk. My body desperately needed food. I took down the box of cereal and poured some in a bowl, adding the milk.
“How well do you know him?”
I looked at her as I shoveled cereal into my mouth. “You acted as if you knew him.”
“I do.”
I set the bowl down, not trusting my hands to hold it still. “How?”
“He’s not who you think he is, Nina. He’s dangerous to you.” She waved her hand around the room. “He’s dangerous to us all.”
“And when you say us, you mean?”
“The fae.”
I scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. Doesn’t even make any sense. He’s a werewolf; he’s like what, thirty-five years old at best. The fae are thousands of years old. And you, you’re, I don’t even know how old you really are.” Having lost my appetite, I dumped the cereal down the garbage disposal in the sink.
“I’m over two hundred years old.”
I glanced her way, not really that surprised. “Figures.”
“I should’ve told you our histories years ago. There is so much you don’t know, that you need to know. Especially now.”
Sighing, I looked up and out the small kitchen window. Movement outside caught my attention. “What’s Da doing?”
“Fixing the garden. It was in a terrible mess.”
“The mess was to keep you people out.” I walked around her to go out the patio doors to the backyard. “Da! Don’t dig out the pond.”
The second I reached his side, I knew I was too late. The slight rippling of the water in the circular pond taunted me. Even the frog was back, roosting on his rock perch and staring upward.
“Damn it, Da. Now they can come through. Don’t you remember the little pixie bugger that tried to kill you?”
He wiped at the dirt on his sunk-in cheek. “You worry too much. We’re safe now.”
“Why, because she’s here?” I flung my hand toward my mother who stood watching nearby. “She’s the reason for everything.”
“I did not send that pixie, or any assassin.”
“Who did then? You must know.”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter now. I have made sure that you and your father are safe.”
I glared at this woman I’d despised for so long. “Excuse me, if that doesn’t really make me feel any better. You’ve been absent most of my life, so I’m pretty sure you don’t have my best interests at heart.”
Her features fell. A wounded look clouded her usually bright eyes. “Oh darling, if only you knew the truth.”
“Save your words. I probably wouldn’t believe it, even if you told me.”
My father put a hand on my shoulder. “You’re so stubborn, Nina. If only you would listen for a moment, you’d realize how unselfish your mother has truly been.”
That made me gape. “Unselfish? Are you serious? Oh Da, not only has she taken your soul, she’s taken your mind as well.”
He snatched back his hand, his face twisting in anguish.
Guilt stabbed me hard in the chest. I reached for him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
He shuffled out of my reach and went to stand by my mother. She put an arm around him. The perfect defense against an insolent daughter.
“You have no idea what I’ve given up for you, Nina. What I’ve suffered just to love your father, just to give birth to you. Some in the community wanted me to abort you.” She shook her head. “You’re so hard, so jaded. Your attitude is probably my fault, but it breaks me to see you this way.”
Her words had an effect. I didn’t want them to matter, but they did. Had I built such a granite wall around my heart, around my mind, that I had no care when others suffered? Had my hatred for my mother ruined any chance for me to really feel?
“Has Severin already corrupted you?”
Again, she brought the conversation back to him. I frowned. “What has he got to do with any of this?”
She reached for my hand.
I let her touch me, confusion and guilt diminishing my usual stoniness.
“He’s using you. He knows who you truly are, and he wants to use it for his own gain, for his pack.”
I wanted to deny it, to scream in outrage but something caught in my mind. A kernel of truth was in there somewhere. I thought maybe I had always known something nefarious existed with Severin and the too-convenient way we’d met.
“Werewolves can see the fae,” I offered as an excuse as to why he knew who I was. “He told me that.”
“Yes. The werewolves and fae have learned to identity each other over the past three thousand years. A good practice is to truly know your enemies.”
The blood drained from my face. Three thousand years? Could it be possible? “Enemies? You’re telling me that werewolves and the fae are at war or something?”
She nodded, her look was fierce, determined to make herself understood. “For over a thousand years, our two races have been at war. As of late, a truce had been signed, but that was two hundred years ago, and the terms are fraying at the edges. The werewolves are planning something.” She squeezed my hand. “And you, my daughter, are in the middle.”
I pulled away and paced the garden, my bare feet sifting through the warm soil. My heart thundered and I was having difficulty breathing. This was all too much to take in. First, I sprouted wings, now I was supposedly in the middle of a supernatural war between two races. If I didn’t know better, if I hadn’t seen the things I had crawling out of my pond, I would’ve said this was all a bunch of crap. But I did know better. I was a member of one of those races, whether I liked it or not.