Grave Memory: An Alex Craft Novel (35 page)

“Good,” he said, but he frowned and his grip loosened. “As long as I belong to her, you can never trust me. I have to do whatever she commands. So don’t call me, don’t look for me, and if you see me, run away. Do you understand?”

I didn’t say anything, and he squeezed my arms again, hard. It was meant to hurt. Even if I hadn’t had the wound, it would have hurt. I yelped, I couldn’t help it, and Falin shook me.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said between pain-locked teeth.

“Then go.” He released me. When I didn’t move, his face contorted. “Go. Now.”

Still I hesitated, and his blades appeared in his hands.

That got me moving. I darted around him, breaking into a run.

I glanced back only once, when I reached the tree line.

Falin had dropped to his knees in front of the tree, his head hanging low, and his daggers driven into the ground on either side of him. I almost stopped. Almost went back to him. But I didn’t.

After all, I had no idea what other commands he’d received from the Queen Ice Bitch.

R
eturning to reality after a day in Faerie was like being pulled out of a dream by a splash of cold water. And then being smothered by the wet pillow.

The music cut off abruptly. The air, which in my previous breath held the earthy smell of the forest and heady laughter, was now too thin, too sharp. It smelled of car exhaust and metal, and it grated against my skin like steel wool. Grave essence, which hadn’t existed in Faerie, crashed against my shields, reminding me that the world around me was dying. Darkness crawled over my vision and for a moment I thought I was blind, but no, it was night, dark, and my eyes were back to their normal, damaged state.

Burning hot tears welled in my eyes. Some were of self-pity. Some were because in returning to reality, to what should have been home, I felt like I’d lost a part of myself. But most were from anger at Falin’s betrayal. I rubbed my arms where he’d squeezed me, intentionally causing pain, and a shiver ran through me as I remembered the glint of his blades in the moonlight.

A tear escaped and seared a line down my cheek. I blinked back the rest—they wouldn’t help anything. Why waste energy on what I couldn’t change?

But that betrayal hurt. Even though I knew it wasn’t his
fault. That he was bound to the commands of his queen. It still made an agonizing ache twist under my sternum.

He’s right. I can never trust him.
Not while he was hers.

I lifted a hand to whisk away the single tear that had escaped and stopped, staring. My fingers shimmered in the darkness. My hands too, as well as my arms and what I could see of my shoulders and chest. I was glowing, pale light seeping from my skin like moonlight caught just below the surface.

Like a Sleagh Maith.

This can’t be happening.
But it was. Even my hair glowed, casting a halo of gold light. Damn the Winter Queen. She’d wanted to see what would happen if I ate Faerie food? Well, it apparently turned me into a glowworm.

And I had no idea how to stop.

How the hell was I supposed to pass for human if I could double as a reading lamp?
Maybe it isn’t as noticeable as I think?
After all, just because I could see something, didn’t mean other people saw it as well. Maybe I glowed on some other plane.

Only I wasn’t actively touching any plane besides mortal reality.

I looked around. In the predawn the streets were quiet, empty. The early-morning hours, long after the bars had made last call and before business owners prepared for the day ahead, were one of the few times things were quiet in the Quarter. Which I was thankful for—except that there were no taxis and the buses weren’t running yet for the day. I briefly considered calling Tamara, but dismissed the idea. One, I was glowing and I wasn’t ready for the big “F” conversation. And two, if she was already awake she was getting ready for work, and if she wasn’t, I didn’t want to wake her. I’d been asking for far too many favors recently.

I glanced behind me at the door, waiting to see if Caleb and Holly were right behind me. I’d left hours before the end of the revelry, but the slowly brightening sky proved I’d lost the full twenty-four hours just as Rianna had warned.
Holly and Caleb would lose the same, but apparently not the exact same because the door remained shut.

What was I supposed to do now? I didn’t have my purse as I’d known I wouldn’t need it in Faerie. I only had my phone and my keys. I paused. My key ring did include the keys to the Tongues for the Dead office, and while it wasn’t the most casual walk away, the Quarter had been designed for foot traffic. It was also considerably closer than Caleb’s house and would get me off the street while I figured out what to do. Turning on my heel, I headed in the direction of the office.

I’d made it a block when a car turned the corner in front of me. The red glow of the brake lights flashing was the first indication something was wrong. I glanced up, hoping for a taxi. After all, who else would be stopping but a taxi that assumed I was a good chance at a fare?

But no, not a taxi. A silver coupe slowed to a crawl as it approached. I couldn’t see how many people were inside, but I felt the stares. Even seventy years after the Magical Awakening, spotting an unglamoured fae on the street wasn’t common—I’d once thought that was because they didn’t like being gawked at, and in part that was true, but recently I’d learned that most used tightly woven glamours to insulate themselves from the iron in the mortal realm. I wasn’t nine feet tall, blue skinned, winged, horned, or any number of the much more
other
aspects many of the fae displayed, but apparently glowing was enough.

I hunched forward, staring at my feet and letting my shimmering curls fall in front of my face like a shield. The car window opened, and something flew out, crashing into the facade of the building in front of me. The Styrofoam cup exploded on impact, showering me in soda and ice.

“Get out of our town, you faerie freak,” a teenage voice yelled from the dark recess of the car. Then the vehicle sped off in a peel of tires and laughter.

I cursed at the car’s taillights, and then stood in the center of the sidewalk, sticky soda dripping from my arms.
Okay, so the glowing is noticeable.

I had to get off the street. I’d never make it to Tongues for the Dead before the Quarter began to fill with people, and I couldn’t let more people see me glowing. If I were recognized…
Say good-bye to passing as human.

I ducked into an alley. I’d lose my OMIH license if my fae heritage was discovered. I had to figure out how to stop glowing before more people saw me.
But how the hell am I going to do that?
Caleb hadn’t left the revelry, and I definitely couldn’t go to Falin—not that he was back from the revelry either. Hell, every fae I knew was in Faerie.

Well, not
every
fae. I knew of one person I definitely hadn’t seen at the revelry. And not only could he help me; he damn near owed me the help.

I called my father.

A
dark Porsche pulled to a stop and the window rolled down, showing my father’s profile. Well, actually, showing his fae-mien’s profile, but one couldn’t expect the governor and prominent member of the Humans First Party to be seen in the Quarter picking up a glowing woman. I climbed to my feet slowly, using the crates I’d been hiding behind as leverage to pull myself up.

“This is becoming a habit, Alexis,” my father said, and I cringed at his use of my name.

I’d become accustomed to hearing it on Falin’s lips. Hearing it said in such a disapproving tone cut.
Of course, I may never hear Falin say my name again.

My father glanced at me. When he wore his human glamour he was a respectably middle-aged man with dark brown hair and eyes. It always made me wonder where my sister and I got our coloring. Without his glamour it was obvious, his pale hair shimmered the same color blond as mine. I also had his green eyes. I looked away. I didn’t like seeing the similarities.

“Alexis, you could have called a cab.”

“Stop calling me that.”

He frowned, a flicker of confusion crossing his brow. It
was the first real emotion he’d shown since I’d climbed into his car. “It is your name.”

“Yeah, well, just don’t use it, okay?”

“Shall I call you daughter dearest?”

I shot him my best death glare, which didn’t faze him in the least.

“My, my, aren’t we in a mood.”

“Did you miss the fact I’m
glowing
?”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” He shrugged as if glowing were no big deal. Of course, as he was unglamoured he also shimmered. “You’re Sleagh Maith. This is our natural state. Though I must say, I’m quite surprised the glamour is failing so quickly. What have you been doing with yourself?”

Dancing in Faerie rings, playing their games, oh yeah, and eating their food.
I cut off my sarcastic inner monologue as the implications of what he’d said sank in.

“Wait, what glamour?”

He didn’t answer as he switched gears and headed over the bridge that separated what most people considered the “witchy” side of town from the rest of Nekros.

“What glamour,” I asked again, “and how do I get it back?”

His fae face was as good at giving completely disinterested glances as his human one.

I ground my teeth but neither of us spoke for a long time, until I realized he was headed toward his mansion. The last time I’d called for help he’d dumped me in the mercy of an overly opinionated brownie at a ramshackle house in an old neighborhood.

“Going to risk being seen with me, huh?” I asked, and noticed that he once again wore his respectable gentleman glamour. If I had to guess, I’d also assume that the Porsche had changed colors and tags. My father’s skill at glamour was second only to his ability to manipulate those around him.

“You called me for a reason, Alexis.”

“Because I need not to be glowing?” I said as he pulled the car into the long drive.

When he stopped in front of the mansion he called a house, he turned, watching me expectantly. I knew what he wanted me to say, but the voice in the back of my head kept screaming that no, I wasn’t a fae, I couldn’t possibly…

I sighed. “I need to learn glamour.”

He nodded as if satisfied. Then, leaving the keys in the car, he climbed out and headed for the front door. He didn’t offer me a hand or wait, but he also didn’t rush. I extracted myself from the car much slower, reluctant to enter the oversized house.

The gate guard had called ahead and a man rushed from the house, sprinting for the idling car. Another man, presumably the butler who’d replaced Rodger, opened the front door. My father nodded a greeting to the man before he led me into the enormous receiving room. Neither the disused chauffeur nor the butler stared as I passed, and while expensive help was trained not to pay too much attention, I was guessing if I glowed they wouldn’t have been able to help themselves. Which meant my father must have extended his glamour to me when he changed the car and himself.

Good to know.
As that immediate problem was solved, at least temporarily, one other rather pressing issue worried along the edge of my mind.

“Do you have any food?” I asked, and my father paused at the base of the marble staircase he’d been about to mount.

“Yes, Alexis, I have food.” The look he gave me could only be described as calculated curiosity. “I take it you would like to break your fast?”

He had no idea. I’d had one potentially life changing sip of wine, and I needed to know if…if I could still consume human food. My father’s studying gaze appeared to see straight through my skin, and I rescinded my earlier thought. Maybe he
did
know. I shifted uncomfortably, but when I nodded that I did indeed want breakfast, he turned to the butler who, in good invisible but always at hand mode, stepped forward.

“Would the young lady like to take her breakfast in the sunroom?” he asked, addressing my father, not me.

“That’s fine, but something light and quick.”