Bittersweet (2 page)

 

 

Whoever had broken into my grandmother's cottage left a trail of broken objects and emptied drawers leading to the back door. We paused in the tiny kitchen. A cardboard box sat on the table. It seemed strangely out of place, not just because it was the one thing left unopened in the house, but it was the only object not covered in a layer of dust. As though someone had left it there recently.

Adrius opened it, his expression guarded. “It's addressed to you,” he said, handing me a slip of paper.

I flipped it over.
For Lorelei
. That was it. No indication of who it was from, or why they'd left it for me. Even the handwriting was unfamiliar.

Peering over the flap of the box, I checked out the contents. My books, movies, odds and ends I'd left here years ago.

My first instinct was to call the police. But then, what would I tell them exactly? Nothing even resembling the truth would work. And Mom would hate for something like this to get out. “This is beyond strange. Who could have left this here?”

“Maybe your mother packed it for you,” he said, looking around at the opened cupboards and drawers.

It was as unlikely an explanation as any other. Mom hated this house, and coming here only caused her pain. I couldn't imagine she'd go to the lengths to assemble a box of things for me, after all these years. And it looked too new to have been left here for long. But then again, who else could have done it? “Someone was here, looking for something, and caused this mess.”

“And that someone may not have been human,” he said, picking up the weighted box with little effort. “I'll put it in the car. We can look more thoroughly later.” After closing the flaps of the mystery box he took it to the car. A breeze wafted in through the window, carrying the faint scent of roses. They hadn't bloomed here in some time. I wandered out to the backyard gardens. Gran's gardens used to be spectacular, blooming with an endless sea of color and scents and textures. Weeds had grown wild and choked out most of the life, leaving behind nothing but tall stalks of dead plants and decaying vines. A tug of guilt pulled at me. I should have kept the gardens up, done something to keep it alive. I fingered the dried stalk of a rose bush. A thorn bit my finger; I pulled back and popped it into my mouth.

The screen door opened and swung shut with a bang as Adrius came to join me outside.

He slowed his pace to look around. I examined the tiny prick on my finger and frowned. Normally a tiny cut like this would have healed by now. I watched, only moderately disturbed by the tiny bead of blood that seeped from the all but invisible cut. My imagination went into worst-case-scenario mode, remembering the cocktail of dark magic swirling inside of me. The powers I'd absorbed when I killed the ice witch,
Octãhvia
were fueled by the dark energy Zanthiel had strengthened with his faerie kiss. Not my finest moment, but a necessary evil, as I'd learned most evils were.

Something caught my eye beyond the garden. I wandered out to the far side toward something I'd never seen before.

The occasional chilled breeze disrupted the chill evening air. Waves slapped against the shore in the distance. My finger throbbed, but the cool night air helped relieve the sting. Propelled by something I couldn't explain, I inched forward, side-stepping tangled brush and weaving through the waist-high grass. I'd never been this far into the garden, and it was especially eerie at night with the light diminishing the further I traveled from the house. I slowed then came to a dead stop.

“Adrius,” I called into the darkness behind me, “You have to come see this.”

Rusty chains bound an iron gate in the far section of the garden. Beyond it was a section of the garden I'd never seen before, hidden behind a crumbling brick wall, overrun with weeds and vines.

His footsteps arrived behind me, as quickly as if he'd been there all along.

“I've never seen this before. How long has it been here?” I jangled the rusty lock, then wiped my hands on my jeans

Adrius gave the lock a yank. It yielded and thudded obediently to the parched ground. The gate creaked open. I glanced at him, nodded and stepped inside.

It was almost impossible to tell this had been a garden, except for the line of stakes and the almost visible path between each row of plants. Some were still alive, growing wildly out of control. Others had shriveled into kindle. And others still had almost overtaken the tiny enclosed space.

Adrius moved to my side and surveyed the mess. “Why would your grandmother keep a separate garden?”

I shrugged. Many of the labeled stakes were faded, but I could make out a few names… “Deadly Nightshade, Rosary Pea, Devil's Porridge, White Baneberry, Monkshood.” Most of what was here I wasn't familiar with. I only knew of the plants she used for healing, the ones that were commonly made into teas at the Lemon Balm and into various concoctions and tinctures in her office. But this garden was not a healing garden.

“What are these plants?” I examined a branch with dried white berries with red dots that looked like eyes.

Adrius brushed a delicate looking flower with the tip of a stick. “Hemlock and Belladonna… all of these plants are poisonous. And many of them deadly.”

I shot him a look. “Deadly? Why would Gran be growing deadly plants?”

He just stared at me, his silence speaking volumes.

“You don't think... I mean, she wouldn't...” I couldn't even finish the thought, it was too ridiculous. My grandmother was the kindest, most well-meaning person I'd ever known. She was a healer, a trusted apothecary. There was no way she would ever grow plants with the intention of harming anyone. Impossible.

Adrius frowned. “She went to a lot of trouble to keep this section of the garden out of sight.”

“No. No way.” I shook my head.

“Lorelei.” He touched my arm. “It's not uncommon for witches to use plants for many different purposes. Perhaps her remedies followed the old ways more than you realized.”

I pursed my lips. It still bothered me to admit the dark part of my heritage. Not that my faerie heritage left any more to be desired. Quite frankly, I'd just as soon be Elfkind. At least that way I was free of all of the drama and darkness associated with both of the others.

My bloodline didn't matter. None of it changed who I was. Not now, not ever. I'd always be...me. But Gran? Using plants to poison people? Or worse…

“It's late and getting dark. We should go.” Adrius held my hand and led me back toward the gate. “There's no sense wandering any farther. We might run into something that will only cause problems, and I think you've discovered more than you planned already. Last thing I need is for you to be paralyzed by a Stinging Nettle plant.”

I looked up at him alarmed.

He smiled. “Heaven knows if there's one in here, you'll be the one to fall into it.”

I elbowed him in the ribs. “You're funny.”

He was always so concerned for my safety. Almost as much as I was concerned for his. More, he would say. Silly really, considering I had the ability to heal rapidly and he was immortal. We were as close to superheroes as it came. And yet, when we were apart I felt supremely vulnerable. I followed him back toward the house. I would return to the garden in daylight.

As we were leaving I noticed a small animal curled in a ball, covered with dark fur. A cat. Dead. Surrounded by black berries from the deadly nightshade plant we'd just been talking about. Wow. Gran would not have been happy to see this, to know her plants cost an animal its life. I reached out to touch the dark fur.

Adrius stopped my hand. “It's better off, now.” He grabbed the shovel leaning against the gate and started digging deep into the earth. The rock hard ground gave way as effortlessly as the iron lock had.

I raised my eyebrows. “I think the cat would have been better off alive. Without having its last meal be a poisonous plant.”

“Guess that depends.”

“On?”

“How you define alive.” He paused in mid dig. “Trapped, alone, cold, unloved. Life without a loving family.... neglected...abused. I would not call that living.”

I stared into his eyes as they darkened to a deep olive green before he looked away. “I guess you're right,” I whispered, reaching up to touch the square of his cheek. I'd never seen him get so sentimental over an animal. But he wasn't talking about the cat. Not really.

His jaw flexed and then relaxed. When he met my gaze his eyes softened and returned to their luminous glow that still swept me off my feet. He gave a half smile and continued to dig a deep grave for the cat. With it he buried at least some of the pain still haunting his life.

****

Moonlight beamed through scattered clouds, lit from behind in an eerie pale glow. It was the end of the weekend, and we were coming to the time we both knew would arrive. Adrius walked me to the door, and then stopped.

“Aren't you coming in?” I slipped off my muddy shoes.

He shook his head. “Probably not the best idea, considering.”

No, it probably wasn't. Mom might be recovering from her illness, but she was a formidable opponent in any condition, and another blowout was not what I wanted for our last night together.

“I hate that you have to leave.” I pouted, snuggling into his shoulder.

His arms around me could never be tight enough to squeeze away the pain twisting in my stomach. “I know. I hate it, too. But you know I'll be back. I'll always come back.”

“Stay. Just…. Stay.” The second I said it I felt awful. What was I asking? I knew he couldn't stay, that he needed to return to his world to stay alive in mind.

Since the night of the dance we'd carefully stayed away from discussing our little predicament. We were still at a standoff. He couldn't live in my world without magical aids to keep him alive, because of the toxic nature of our polluted air, and I couldn't go back to his world, because of a bunch of angry beings trying to kill me. That left us here. He would have to return to his world and refuel, to come back to mine. How long the potions lasted depended upon how much stress he was under. Physical exertion, extreme emotions all used up the reserve more quickly. Then there was the issue of his still being tied to Venus, the daughter of the ice witch I killed. A curse had caused his forced fealty to her. Killing the witch was not only supposed to save Mythlandria from her destructive wrath, it was also supposed to free Adrius of the curse that bound him to the ice witch's commands. Who knew there was a daughter who would take over the bonds, and that she was also his ex-girlfriend.

Now she wants me dead in payment for killing her mother, and as a bonus, I'd be out of the way so she could get Adrius back in her life. That he could come here at all means the curse is weakening. I want his freedom, but at which price? Was I willing to kill for it? I'd have to end her life as well if I was going to destroy the bonds. And I wasn't a killer. Even Oct
ãhvia
's death was more of an accident than intended. I had no idea what awakening the magic would do, or how to wield it. This arrangement seemed like our only option, for now. And while I hated to see him leave, there was something comforting in being able to pretend that my life was normal again. As normal as it ever was. I could enjoy being back home with friends and back at school which surprisingly enough, I'd missed. It's amazing how coming to the edge of your life multiple times will make even the most mundane routines a welcomed change.

“Think about what you're asking me,” he said. “You know why I have to leave.”

He watched me suck in a breath of regret, as I wished I could take back my self-serving plea.

Pain creased his eyes. “Sleep soundly, Lorelei,” was all he said. He kissed the top of my head and turned to go.

The tense set of his jaw revealed the effort it took to leave. I watched him walk away, biting down on my lower lip until he reached the driveway.

“How am I supposed to sleep?” My voice was almost too quiet to be heard over the howling wind. But his hearing surpassed most mortal's.

“Warm milk with honey works well,” he answered my whisper, his back still facing me. “It helps with the night terrors too,” he added.

“You know that's not what I meant.” I moved closer, descending one step at a time until my bare feet hit the cold of the pavement.

Adrius froze. Electric pulses crackled between us.

“I was talking about sleeping without you. Here.”

“You've managed to do it before,” he said cautiously, the strain of his resolve vibrating in his voice.

“I know. But—“

This was wrong. It was selfish. How could I ask him to stay, when I know that leaving is what would keep him alive to return to me?

“I'm sorry. I'm being silly. It's just I can't—“

With whipcrack intensity, his resolve burned away and he rushed toward me and pulled me into his arms. His touch burned though my shirt as his hands splayed against my back, pressing us closer. He kissed me, hungrily at first, then it quickly deepened to ravenous. Matching his fervor, I tangled my fingers in his hair. Every inch of me was on fire. He gasped, his lips slowing against mine. By the time we separated, we were both breathless. He leaned his forehead against mine for a few rapid heartbeats, then pulled back. Our eyes remained locked in a palpitating stretch of silence that spoke volumes. My head swirled, and all I wanted was more of where we'd left off.

But he read my intentions. The corners of his lips quirked and he shook his head. Warm hands slid down my arms with one last caress, before he disappeared. Gone so quickly I didn't actually see him leave. Swallowed by the darkness of the night and the forest that held the secret doorway into Mythlandria. Through the invisible veil between his world and mine. Only his scent remained.

I inhaled deeply. It was better this way. I might never have found the strength to let him go otherwise. He always said he was the weak one, for insisting on having me in his life. But he was wrong. I was the one too greedy to let him out of my sight for even a night. I stared into the darkened forest and sighed. He'd be back. I knew that he would. But I couldn't shake the sensation that our temporary solution wouldn't last. Things weren't as simple as they seemed, and as I made my way into the house the quote from my Shakespeare lit class replayed in my head like an unsung melody.

”Something wicked this way comes.”

This night had been exhausting on so many levels. I curled up on the couch in the den, staring blankly at the TV screen I'd yet to turn on.

I didn't realize I had drifted off to sleep on the couch until my phone buzzed on the table across from me. Staggering upright, I stubbed my toe before grunting an irritated “hello?”

The voice on the other end wasn't familiar. I looked at the clock, 11:30 p.m., way too late for Abby to be calling. Rubbing my eyes, I tried to focus on what the voice was saying.

“Ms. Alundra? Lorelei Alundra?”

“Yes?”

“We met at the vocal competition you performed in. I understand you've been trying to reach me.”

“I'm sorry, who is this?” I mumbled absently, not fully awake and nursing my aching toe.

“My name is Mr. Peterson. And I may have information about your aunt.”