I just stared for a moment. No one had ever said anything even close to this to me before, and it wrapped itself around me, the most beautiful of nooses.
“Why?” I asked, the thorn lurking in all these roses.
“Because that’s what I do. I’ve always loved you, Kira, in each of your incarnations.” That sweet façade cracked a little as he got the word out, his brows knotting. “It’s been so fucking long, but you’re back now. Back with me.”
8
“What?”
He sighed, long and loud, rolling up into a seated position, back against the curved woven walls.
“I didn’t want to do this right now. You’re aching, Kira. I can feel every damn jagged slash of it. You’ve been betrayed, and you—”
“Have been kept in the dark the whole time. The whole fucking time, Aen, including by you.”
I scrambled out of the ‘cocoon.’ I should’ve known better than to get cosy with any of these bastards. I resisted the urge to kick the bloody thing as I got free of it.
“Kira…”
I shook off his touch and strode towards the bedroom, feeling my hands getting hotter as I went, and the smell of burning fabric alerted me to what was happening. I looked down to see flames licking the hem of my shorts, and trying to beat out the flames only made the bloody thing worse. I yelped as I felt the flames lick along my skin, but not because it hurt. It should have, they caressed my flesh like a lover’s hand, zipping up my arms, my torso, criss-crossing my chest, yet all I felt was a throbbing heat in response.
“Why are you always so fucking beautiful?” He shook his head, the smooth talking fae lose his cool, and I had a front row seat to the show. His jaw flexed, his hands tore at his hair, his teeth clicked as they clenched tight.
“How am I always anything to you?”
He closed the gap between us in several long strides, hushing me when his arms went around me, even when I struck out at him. I felt like a child fighting their parent, and maybe that’s how I was acting. He enfolded me in an iron embrace, a wave of cold going through me, and when I pushed myself free of him, I found my flames had been thoroughly extinguished. He spent some time inspecting what the fire had revealed, and when he looked up, it appeared that my whole inferno had gone to his eyes.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“I’m done letting shit go,” I snapped in return.
“Then I’ll tell you. Everything you want to know, any question you can come up with that I know the answer to, I’ll answer, in return for this.” He flicked his wrist, a deck of cards appearing in his palm. “No matter what I say, you stay here, rest, eat, sleep, recuperate, meditate. Whatever it takes to get you ready, and when you are, you train with Ashanti or someone else trustworthy. Deal?”
I nodded, the muscles in my neck aching with the effort.
He flicked the cards out at me, making me flinch back, but I needn’t have bothered. They hung in the air, then formed a ring around two that hung in the middle. One showed a man hanging by his ankle, tied to a tree, and the other… She held that endless serenity Renaissance portraits often did, staring at the viewer with peaceful eyes, wearing a long gown, a many starred diadem on her head.
“The goddess,” he said, poking her card, the edges glowing red for a moment, “and her consort. The corn god, sacrificed for the good of the land.” His hand moved to the outer ring. “The high priestess, the epitome of feminine wisdom, the fool, death, strength…” He shook his head at my flat look, grabbing the two central cards, the others dissipating into a glimmering mist. He held one in his hand and flicked the other at me.
I caught it with little effort, the big rectangle of printed card fitting in my palm like it was made to be there. I looked at the woman and her golden dress, the fiery red sceptre in her hand.
“That’s you, or at least we think so. The prospectives always come to me, or they did…” He shook his head. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had anyone who looked so promising.” His green eyes flicked out to the rumbling storm. “They’re usually picked off, run down, tied up, and drained before I can get to them. Snuffed out before they can even try to tap their powers. It’s where pricks like the Rutherglen got their power when everyone lost theirs. But not you, Kira. They let you be, mouldering away in Gisbourne.” He frowned at that. “I’ve lived for thousands of years, since before the wall between the world and the gods was erected. I’ve seen a million girls come and go, tried to save so many of them… But you. Your grandmother was obviously aware of what you were, since she wanted to hide you from men like Rutherglen, but those spells only worked so well. So when you transitioned, why didn’t he gobble you all up, march you down to the purpose built facility he has under the estate, and drain you until you died?”
“The Changelings…” I said, feeling the heat rise again, and his hand snapped out to cover mine, a little shiver running through him at whatever it was he felt.
“Yes, your merry band. They’ve played a role in this, something we need to find out more about.” He opened his palm to show me a familiar red collar lying across it. “You woke up with this in your hand. Dream translocation…that’s some major magics, Kira. I didn’t want to do this yet, but we need to find out what they’ve done. Right now, they appear to be all that’s stopping Dave from making a move against you.”
I remembered the masked, chattering, teethed figure of last time, felt a shiver up my spine, and nodded my head.
He coaxed me back into the cocoon with the promise of more answers. I had to admit, it’s all I wanted right now. The collar felt like a lead weight in my hand, but I didn’t let it go, even as I crawled in beside him, my already skimpy clothing shredding as I settled against him.
There was something endlessly sensual about Aen, I discovered. He pulled me into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world, and his confidence had me leaning into it, tilting my head back and taking long kisses that blurred from one to the other, until I was forced to pull away to take a full breath. His hands ran down my arms, my thighs, his nose burying itself in my hair, but he went no further.
I remembered her touch, quickly and efficiently getting me off so I’d settle, and felt my body burn with the remembered pleasure. As if sensing my response, he leant over and said, “Ask me one of the many questions in that head of yours.”
“How did it all start?” I asked, reaching up and trailing my fingers along the roof of the cocoon. “Like, who was right? Religions are always trying to explain this, but the stories are all different.”
“That I don’t know. I was one of the first fae made, but my father didn’t exactly stick around to teach me anything.”
“Who was your father?” He flicked his hand, another Tarot card appearing before me, showing a devilish goat headed figure, complete with large spiked horns. “The devil?!”
He shook his head, then kissed me lightly, tasting my mouth before pulling away.
“When I was born, there was no devil. There was Herne, Cerunnos, there was Pan and Khnum. Nature gods, builders, war gods, depending on the culture. I’m…not sure what they are for real. I rarely catch a glimpse of them, except when they wish it.” His green eyes flicked out to the horizon. “I really only know her.”