“They were purple, all right…” She frowned, leaning forward to look at my new eyes more closely. “Just like yours. But his hair was blond—not black. And his face was like yours—so perfectly shaped.” She smiled and sighed. “He was the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”
She’d said that so many times when I was growing up, but now her words took on a whole new meaning. I had always thought it was strange that my mom seemed to bear no animosity towards the man who had impregnated her and then run off when I was still just a baby. But now it was clear why she wasn’t mad—he hadn’t impregnated her—he’d given her the baby she always wanted to raise.
And I was no closer to knowing who I really was than when she first revealed I was adopted.
“So you don’t know anything about my background?” I asked desperately. “Nothing at all?”
She shook her head apologetically.
“Just what I told you, sweetie. I know you’re somebody important—and that you’re being chased by other important people. Also, I knew that you might have magic and start looking different one day. But that’s it.” She spread her hands. “I’m so sorry I don’t know any more.”
“Well, I think we can tell from her powers and her eyes that Emma is definitely High Sidhe—possibly with some other lineage mixed in,” Lachlan said, looking at me thoughtfully. “The question is, who are her rightful parents?”
“Does it matter?” I asked, frowning. “Whoever they are, they dumped me here and left me.”
“It’s going to matter very much if you ever have to go to the Realm,” Bran said seriously. “At the Summer Court, you’re nothing without your family name.” He winced as he said it, possibly remembering that his father had stripped his own family name from him.
“I don’t care about that,” I said, lifting my chin. “Because I’m never going to the Realm or the Summer Court. I might look different now, but I’m still just plain Emma Plunkett and that’s who I’m going to stay.”
Lachlan looked at me shrewdly.
“I don’t doubt your commitment to leaving the Fae world alone, Emma. The question is—will the Fae world be willing to show you the same courtesy?” He shook his head. “I very much doubt it will.”
I had no idea at the time how right he was—but I was going to find out very soon.
39
Bran and Lachlan spent the night—neither of them was willing to leave me alone after what my mom had said about me being in danger and “important people” chasing me. Mom was glad to have them but she had some rules to lay down first.
“The couch folds out into a bed,” she said practically, motioning to the couch we were all three still sitting on. “Emma can sleep in her own room and remember our rule,” she added, pointing at me. “No boys in your bedroom, Emmaline Plunkett.”
“Mom!” I could feel my cheeks getting hot.
She only called me by my full name when she was serious but her words made me blush. She had made that rule back when I first turned twelve and started getting old enough to notice boys at all. But of course, up until now, there had never been any boys interested in me. And now I had two gorgeous Fae guys who refused to leave my side.
But I’m gorgeous now, too, I reminded myself. It didn’t matter though—it didn’t feel real. Every time I passed by a mirror or some other reflective surface it made me jump. I felt like I was looking at a stranger.
I was longing to go back to Nocturne Academy, of course, and be with the rest of my coven. I needed their reassurance that even though I looked different, I was still part of our little family. I knew that no matter what I looked like, Megan and Avery and Kaitlyn wouldn’t abandon me.
But I didn’t want to leave Mom alone until after I had done my chores for the week—including shopping and stocking the pantry which I knew she’d never bother with on her own.
Also, it was late—almost four in the morning. Everyone would be asleep and the gates would be locked. So I reluctantly decided to stay at least for the night and the next day to get errands and chores done before going back to show my friends my strange transformation.
As for my supposed “magic powers,” I still wasn’t at all convinced I had them. That was, I wasn’t convinced until I had a run-in with our landlord the next day…
40
“You guys go in with the groceries, I’ll just be a minute,” I said to Bran and Lachlan, who had insisted on coming to the Publix with me. (That’s a grocery store, in case you’re wondering.)
Shopping with the two of them had been…interesting to say the least. Mainly because everyone kept staring at them. From the bag boys to the butcher to all the shoppers in the isles, they were getting looks everywhere we went.
I guess I couldn’t blame the people with the stunned looks on their faces—after all, both guys were built like Greek Gods—I had a hard time not staring at them myself.
But when I mentioned all the attention he and Lachlan were getting, Bran just shook his head.
“Think again, Emma—it’s not Lachlan and me everyone is staring at—it’s you,” he murmured. “Lachlan and I look well enough—we are Fae, after all—but your beauty puts the stars in the heavens to shame.”
“Bran…” I bit my lip, feeling my cheeks get hot yet again. “Please don’t talk like that,” I begged him. “You have no idea how weird it makes me feel.”
Lachlan, who had been listening to us talk, shot me an appraising look.
“You’re truly not enjoying your new beauty, are you?”
“I’m just…trying to get used to it,” I said. “Please believe me, it’s much better than being stuck in the ugly witch form.” I didn’t want him to think I was ungrateful that he’d removed the geas. “But it’s still so weird to suddenly look so different.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Bran promised me again.
I hoped he was right but at the moment, I didn’t see how it was possible.
I mulled over the strange experience in the grocery store all the way home. But when we got to the entrance of my apartment building, I saw something that pulled me out of my contemplative mood.
The ground was littered with cigarette butts—the detritus of my mom’s worried midnight vigil, as she waited for me to get home the night before.
Feeling embarrassed about the mess, I knew I had to pick up the butts before one of the other tenants complained. So I sent the guys in with the groceries and started picking up the little white butts, each one decorated with a pink smear of my mom’s lipstick.
I was just finishing up when a shadow fell over me and someone said,
“Emma? Little Emma—is that you?”
Looking up, I saw our landlord, Carl Groperson, standing over me. He was short, pudgy, and balding and he was chomping on the stub of a cigar that smelled like dirty socks. His clothing matched his looks. He was wearing a stained, white sleeveless T-shirt that was too short—it didn’t quite cover the bottom of his hairy belly, which hung out over the waistband of his sagging jeans. To complete the look he had on flip-flops that showed his dirty, hairy toes. Ugh!