Fever 4 - DreamFever (26 page)

  She gave me a level look, then her gaze dropped to the spear strapped to my thigh. "I
don't need your word, Mac. You gave me something else tonight that said it all."
 

M         acKayla."

  We were a block from the bookstore when V'lane's voice slid out of the darkness, an
orchestral variation on an erotic dream. The Fae have extraordinary voices, melodious
and rich. The notes vibrate under your skin, sleek and sensual against the tips of your
nerve endings. If the Song of Making really is a song, I'm not sure a human could
survive hearing it.

  I used to have what I would have called a normal sex drive. Some of my friends were
beyond obsessed with it, though. I guess they thought it would fill the void of
purposelessness so many in my generation are afflicted with while trying to find our
place in the world.

   But being Pri-ya changed me, left me with a voracious awareness of all things sexual.
Or maybe sex with Barrons did it--I don't know. All I know is that I'm far more
attuned to erotic nuances than I used to be. The Seelie Prince's murmur was a full-body
caress, and I appreciated it for a moment before shrugging it off.

  "V'lane!" Dani exclaimed.

  He laughed, and if I hadn't been immune to death-by-sex Fae glamour, I would have
been in serious trouble. He was putting on the seduction, beautiful golden Fae radiating
pure sexual heat. I've begun to think it's simply part of his nature, that he can't help it
any more than some men can prevent themselves from oozing testosterone. I think some
males of both species just have more.

  Dani wasn't immune. Her eyes were feverishly bright, her skin flushed, her lips
parted. I caught a glimpse in that moment of the woman she would become. "Stop it,
V'lane. Leave her alone."

   "I do not believe she wishes me to. Who better to awaken her to the shape and texture
of Eros? Set the bar, so to speak."

  "Uh-huh," Dani said thickly. "I'd like that."

  "I don't care what you believe or what she wishes, and you will not be setting the bar.
She's going to have a normal life." At least, as close to normal as I could make it.
"Dani, get inside the bookstore. I'll join you in a few minutes."

  "But I don't wanna--"

  "Now," I said.

  She glared.

  "I bet Barrons is there," I dangled. To V'lane I said, "Dampen yourself so she can
shake the thrall."

  He lifted and dropped one shoulder.

   Dani made a soft sigh, as if abruptly released from some inner tension she wasn't
entirely glad to be free of, then glanced from V'lane to the bookstore and back again, as
if trying to choose between a banana split and a fudge sundae. Then, "Fine," she said,
and flashed out. At the door, she tossed a saucy grin over a shoulder and said, "Take
your time, Mac. Me and Barrons, we got stuff to talk about."

  I bit back a snort of laughter, remembering my own teen crushes. They'd been
nightmares of awkwardness and nervous tension. Of feeling gauche, too clumsy for
words, and needy. I trusted that Barrons would deftly deflect her hero worship. It was
only with me that he was a constant jackass.

  I watched until she was safely inside and the door closed behind her. Although there
were no indications the Dark Zone that had once neighbored BB&B still existed, I
didn't trust those shadow-filled streets beyond the bookstore.

  I looked back at V'lane. He was studying me intently.

  "You have been battling. Are you well, MacKayla?"

  "I'm fine." My reflexes had been dynamite tonight. Even though I took a few
crushing blows, I'd managed to duck or pull back at the last minute and minimize the
impact every time. I didn't even feel bruised anywhere. No cuts. No contusions. I felt
fantastic. I loved this sleeker, stronger me.

   The floodlights on the top of BB&B flashed on. The street was suddenly blindingly
bright. I had no doubt Barrons was about to step outside.

  V'lane shot the bookstore a beautifully imitated look of disgust, then his arms were
around me and we were gone.

We reappeared, high in the dark night sky.

  He was holding my hand.

  I made the horrific mistake of glancing down briefly. I yanked my gaze back up
again. I was standing on nothing. Black air beneath my feet.

  Why wasn't I falling?

  As soon as I thought that, I began to fall. I lunged at him, wrapped my arms and legs
around him, and clung for dear life.

  His arms cradled me instantly. "I should have done this long ago, MacKayla," he
purred. "Be at ease. I will not let you fall. Look down."

   "That's a definite not." I had no idea how high up we were, but it was cold. I
squeezed my eyes shut. "Are we just hanging in the sky? Floating here?" This distressed
me tremendously. I'm quite certain we were created with feet because we're supposed
to walk on the surface of the planet. Key word there being "surface": not above it, not
below it.

  "You would feel safer in one of those conveyances that frequently plummet?"

  "Not that frequently."

  "All that is required to end a mortal life is one such fall, yet you assume the risk.
Humans are irrational and foolish."

  "This irrational, foolish human wants her feet on the ground."

   "I have a gift for you, MacKayla. I have ... what is that word ..." He trailed off, and I
was startled to realize there was a teasing note in his voice. "Ah, I have it," he said
lightly. "Labored. I have worked to give you this gift. I have not merely waved my fairy
wand and made it so."

   He was teasing. I wasn't sure what disconcerted me more: hanging in the night sky or
listening to V'lane tease. The LM claimed that he was changed by exposure to humans.
Was V'lane?

  "This is the best way to present my gift."

  "I looked down when we got here. Lots of dark space. I think I saw stars."

  "The stars are above us. Look again." His tone made it clear he was going to keep us
hanging here all night if I didn't do what he said.

  Sighing, I opened my eyes, took a hasty, panicked look down, and squeezed my eyes
shut again. Then I realized what I'd just seen and my eyes flew open again. We were
several thousand feet up and city lights glittered far below.

   City lights! We were above a brilliant aura that could only be a major metropolitan
area. "I thought the power was out everywhere!" I exclaimed.

  "I have been working with other Seelie to see it restored," he said with pride.

  "Where are we?"

  "Beneath us is your Atlanta. On the coast, the lights of Savannah." He pointed.
"There, Ashford. I told you I would keep your parents safe. When Barrons beat me by a
mere matter of minutes in saving you, I turned my efforts to saving those who matter
most to you. Barrons has still never spared them a thought. The Dark Zones that
swallowed the cities nearest your home, threatening to spread, have been eradicated.
Power is restored. Even now humans learn to defend themselves. My gift to you is your
Georgia back."

  I stared down at the lights, then at him. "Could you do this for the whole world?"

  "Much of our power stems from our ability to manipulate dimensions beyond yours,
but the fabric of the human dimension is ... viscous, thick; the laws of your physics are
not as ... bendable as ours. This alteration required much time, cooperation with other
Seelie and many humans."

  In V'lane-speak, that translated to a no. He'd done this for me and would do no more.

  "Your parents are safe. Would you like to see them?"

   I swallowed against a sudden lump in my throat. Mom and Dad were down there.
One of those glittering lights beneath me, a mere sift away. They'd always been a mere
sift away, but somehow, in Dublin, with four thousand miles between us, it had been
easier to keep that fact blocked from my mind so I wouldn't be tempted. So I wouldn't

hurt, or worry, or risk exposing their existence to my enemies, I'd crammed Mom and
Dad into my padlocked box, with all my other forbidden thoughts. Was that what Alina
had done with us, too?

  I caught my breath. I shouldn't. I knew better.

  "Take me to the street outside The Brickyard," I said. "I'll walk from there."

   I was here and I couldn't resist. I wanted to see my world again. I wanted to walk the
oak- and magnolia-lined streets of my hometown. I wanted to stand outside my house
and look up at my bedroom window. I wanted to see if I could find any trace of the girl
I'd once been in these streets or if she'd been completely swallowed up by a dark Fae
dream. I didn't dare risk being seen, so I would have to stay to the shadows, but I've
gotten good at that lately.

  I lightly touched down, my boots settled on pavement.

   There was The Brickyard, on its large lot, tucked between two antebellums. The
lights were on inside and out. Nothing had changed. I hurried up the walk, peered into a
window.

   Oh, how wrong I was! Everything had changed. Ashford's police force, firemen, the
mayor, and about a hundred townspeople were inside, and I didn't need to crack a
window to know they were discussing strategy. The walls were down and the whole
world knew it now. If there'd been national newspapers up and running, the headlines
would be about nothing else. The Fae were visible, and here were the grass-roots efforts
of my town to protect itself. I wanted to march in and help. Educate. Take up arms and
protect.

  "Your place and purpose are not here, MacKayla."

  I forced myself to turn away, melt, like a thief, into the night.

  It was warm for January in Ashford, but that wasn't so unusual. I've spent
Christmases in ice storms. I've spent them in shorts and a T-shirt. Tonight was a jeans
and tee night.

  As I walked, I inhaled deeply. There was nothing blooming this time of year, but I
swear the Deep South always smells of magnolias, wild azaleas, sweet tea, and
somebody frying chicken somewhere. In a month, pansies would bloom all over the
town--Ashford was nuts about pansies--followed by jonquils and tulips.

  I was home. I smiled.

  It was safe!

  No Shades, no Unseelie, lights on everywhere.

  I spun in a delighted circle in the middle of the street.

  How I'd missed my world! How lost I'd felt so far away!

   It all looked exactly the same. It felt as if I'd never left. As if three blocks down and
two blocks over, I'd find Mom, Dad, and Alina playing Scrabble, waiting for me to get
home from night class or work to join them (and get my petunia trounced, because
Alina and Dad knew words that any reasonable person would have agreed shouldn't be
words at all, like "ort" and "quod"--really, who knew words like that?), and we'd laugh
and I'd worry about what outfit to wear tomorrow and go to sleep with nothing more
troubling on my mind than whether my petition to OPI to unretire my favorite shade had
been heard. (It had, and they'd sent me a pretty pink-and-gold certificate conferring
upon me the title of honorary OPI affiliate, which I'd hung with great pride next to my
vanity, where I did my hair and makeup. Oh, the trials and tribulations of a sheltered
youth.)

   There was the Brooks' house, proud white Southern columns at the top of a grand
circular drive. There was the Jennings' place, with its romantic turrets and loads of
white lattice accents. I walked the streets, drinking in the sights. I'd always thought
Ashford had such rich history, but it was really very young, only a few centuries,
compared to Dublin's millennia.

  Then I was outside my house, standing in the street, sick with anticipation.

   I hadn't seen Mom since August 2, the day I'd left for Dublin. My last glimpse of
Dad had been on August 28, when I'd dropped him at the Dublin airport and sent him
back home. He'd flown over to find me, determined to take me back to Ashford with
him. But Barrons had Voiced him, coerced him into not worrying about me, planted
who-knew-what kind of commands inside my dad's head to get him to leave and not
come back. I both hated and appreciated that Barrons had done it. Jack Lane is one
seriously strong-willed man. He'd never have left without me, and I'd never have been
able to keep him safe.

  I moved silently up the walk. A dozen feet from the front door, a mirror appeared,
suspended in the air in front of me. I shivered, as if someone had walked over my grave.
Mirrors are no longer simple things to me. Since the night I stared into the Silver that
Barrons keeps in his study at BB&B and watched the twisted, dark creatures moving
around inside it, looking at my own reflection has been unsettling, as if all mirrors are
suspect and something dark and horrifying might materialize at any moment behind my
shoulder.

  "In case you were considering being seen," V'lane cautioned, stepping into view
behind my shoulder.

  I looked at myself.

  The moment I'd seen our house, I regressed in my mind to the curvy, pretty girl
who'd raced down our front walk for the cab so many months ago, long blond hair
swinging, short white skirt showcasing perfect golden legs (when was the last time I'd
shaved?), manicure and pedicure meticulously enameled, purse and shoes matching,
jewelry in theme.

  I stared at myself now.

   I was a wild woman, dressed from head to toe in black leather. There was slimy green
goop in my tangle of midnight curls. I was stained with vile-smelling Unseelie body
fluids. My nails were ripped to the quick, and I was toting a black leather backpack full
of lights and ammunition, wearing a battered bike helmet, and carrying a semiautomatic
weapon. He'd made his point.

  "Make it go away," I said stiffly.

  The mirror vanished.

  I didn't belong here. Nothing good could come of my presence. Sure, I could ask
V'lane to make me pretty and clean with glamour and drop in for a visit, but what
would I say? What could I hope to accomplish? And wouldn't every minute that I
remained here potentially invite unsavory attention my parents' way?