Why Are All the Good Guys Total Monsters? (8 page)

We sat down at a table with a great view of the city. We
seemed to be the only two dining, and the food appeared as if by magic. We
helped ourselves from a sumptuous buffet.

I gazed out over the city, seeing the streets, some
familiar, others belonging to Edinburgh from the past, before the roads were
changed to accommodate the busy traffic. The layout, however, was the same. I
was looking at the past, while living in the present. And I agreed with
Sabastien. Sometimes things are ideal as they are. The city was magnificent as
it was.

Snow fluttered past the windows. The city looked like it had
never seen a warm summer’s day, but I loved the atmosphere of it. I loved the
snow.

Sabastien smiled at me across the table and something in my
stomach ached to touch him, perhaps to kiss him. ‘Have you cast another spell
on me?’ I said quietly.

‘Would I do a thing like that?’ he said teasing me.

I tried not to smile.

‘You look lovely in that dress. If I didn’t know better I’d
easily mistake you for one of us. You have a magical quality about you. No
wonder Daire has a crush on you.’

‘Daire?’

He nodded.

‘I thought…’

He finished the words I wouldn’t say. ‘That I was your
secret admirer?’

I couldn’t deny it.

He shook his head. ‘Daire is quite taken with you. Since he
first saw you, when we’d tried to find out whether you or Orlaith would be the
one to gift us back the land, he’s been acting a little love sick.’

‘I’m flattered.’

‘But you’d have preferred that it was me?’

‘Not at all.’

He leaned back in his chair. The lilac in his eyes had
faded, and blue was the dominant colour. A smile tugged at the corner of his
luscious lips.

‘How long have you both been watching me?’ I said.

‘Since the spring. Don’t worry. We didn’t see anything
private, nothing embarrassing. We’d never do that. We just needed to see what
type of person you were.’

‘I’d be in London then.’

‘Yes. There’s a lot of laughter in your house. You and your
mother seem to be great friends.’

‘We are.’

‘You can never tell her anything about this.’

‘Why not?’

‘Hmm, let me see…she’s a newspaper journalist.’

I laughed. ‘She could never print any of this. They’d think
she was crazy if she wrote about faeries.’

‘You still can’t tell her. She wouldn’t deal with it as you
have. Things would change between you. It wouldn’t be the same.’

I thought about what he said.

‘You know I’m right.’

I did. But how could I keep a secret like this from her?

We finished our meal which was delicious, and I thought
about the Cupid’s darts. Had the blue flowers made Sabastien feel attracted to
me? And did I feel attracted to him because I’d been spellbound? Had his spell
inadvertently worked against him by making him susceptible to my romantic
wishes? And would either of us give in to our attraction?

I knew I should be concentrating on getting back home
instead of thinking about falling for Sabastien. Would my mother and Orlaith be
worried about me? Would they even know that I’d gone missing? But every time I
tried to think about things like this, my thoughts drifted back to love and
romance.

Think about something else, I told myself. And then I
remembered — the cat.

‘Tell me about Midnight.’

‘What do you want to know?’ Sabastien said to me.

‘Is he really a cat?’

‘Oh, yes. A fae cat.’

‘Is there a difference?’

‘Yes. He belongs to Archer.’

‘What’s he doing living with Orlaith?’

‘That moon garden of hers — it’s quite magical. Even without
the bluebells, there’s something about it that draws you to it. A garden that
comes alive at night. I believe he went to live there last winter.’

‘Yes, she found him in the garden one day. She called him
her visitor cat. He stayed for a few days, and never left. She named him
Midnight because of his lovely deep blue fur.’

‘That’s his name.’

‘The cat can’t talk?’ I said, hoping this was true.

‘No, though he can influence some human’s thoughts. Not
yours — you’re far too stubborn and fiery.’

‘Why didn’t you want me to open the letter until Midnight
was asleep?’

‘Because I thought he’d tell Archer. We tend to cross swords
with each other from time to time. I knew if Midnight saw that the letter was
from me, he’d run straight to Archer. I didn’t want Archer involved.’

‘Does Orlaith suspect that Midnight’s a fae cat?’

‘No. She thinks he’s fluffy and cute and just a cat. And
that’s how we’d like to keep things, so you can’t tell her anything about this
either.’

I didn’t see this being a problem. ‘No one would ever
believe me.’

‘Orlaith would. She’d love to believe you. You’d change her
life forever.’

‘I’d never do that.’

‘Good.’

He sipped from a glass of sparkling liquid. The gold ring
shone on his finger. I was drawn to look at it, and then a flickering light in
the distance caught my attention. I wondered if it was Daire.

I stood up and cupped my hands against the window to get a
better look.

Sabastien stood behind me, so close I could feel the muscles
in his chest press against me. I felt my heartbeat quicken. I fought the urge
to turn around to look at him, knowing he was so close, I’d be near enough to
kiss his lips — something I’d resisted doing and tried not to think about.
Spellbound or not, he tempted me beyond all reason. But I resisted.

Sabastien didn’t resist. He kissed my neck, one kiss,
causing me to forget everything except how he made me feel. Lost in the moment,
lingering, longing…

‘I can never love you, Vesper,’ he whispered.

‘You might if your heart wasn’t broken.’

There was the longest pause. ‘Perhaps.’

Lights shone beyond the city. A clash of fireworks in the
dark sky.

The moment of romance was broken, replaced with the
realisation that the battle was at its height.

‘Wait here,’ said Sabastien.

‘Take me with you.’

‘You can’t fight.’

‘I can’t wait here and do nothing.’

He read the determination in my eyes. My instincts were
telling me this was the right thing to do. Somehow, I thought that I could help
make a difference. I could help Daire.

He looked at me. His eyes had become lilac again. No hint of
blue. ‘Hold tight, and don’t let go of me.’

‘I won’t.’

A flash of starlight singed the air and then the windows in
front of us opened wide. The air rushed in, cold and fierce, blowing through
the restaurant. I heard the sounds of the clash echoing far off, and below us
the city shone like a winter’s dream.

Sabastien’s dark wings extended to full width. I sensed
their power.

I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his sinewy muscles and
otherworldly strength.

He glanced at me, a look of strong assurance — and then he
soared into the night.

The speed of his flight was extraordinary. The beat of his
wings gathered pace, cutting through the air, shortening the distance. I held
tight, relying on my own strength to cling to this magnificent fae as we headed
straight into the centre of the clash.

Several woodland fae, blue and swift like Archer, defended
Archer against the Winter moths, Grey Daggers and the others. I saw the
Alchymist, and wondered how he’d react when he saw me. The warning that he
didn’t like humans made me wary. But I’d made my choice. No going back now. No
faltering. Daire needed our help. Perhaps, in the strangest way, I could be the
distraction to make Archer take his eyes off Daire long enough for him to gain
the upper hand, though judging by the state of Archer, blue blood running down
one arm, Daire was within moments of winning the battle. Daire’s grey top shone
with a layer of chainmail, and metal cuffs protected his wrists and forearms.
They fought each other in the sky, blow for blow. Snow, stardust and sparkling
light, like glittering stars on a winter’s night, filled the sky around us.

Sabastien flew fast and low, and despite my protests, he
dropped me safely on the forest ground, before flying towards Daire.

‘No!’ I shouted. Archer would never see me here.

But I was wrong.

He didn’t see me — he sensed me. He flew down, straight as
the arrows strapped to his back, targeting me.

I went to run, but tripped on something on the ground,
partially covered by fallen leaves and snow. ‘Archer’s bow,’ I said, almost in
triumph. I grabbed it and ran, hiding in the undergrowth, in the shadows of the
trees. The forest was dark, and the musty scent of leaves filled the air. I
shrugged the white wool cape from my shoulders. The colour highlighted me in
the dark. The grey dress, even encrusted as it was now with crystalline
sparkles, merged with the night and the branches of the trees, whose tangled
roots seemed to have a grudge against me. Unless I was mistaken, they moved, as
if trying to grip hold of my ankles. I stamped them aside and kept running. The
thought that if I was fast enough, and with the fae blood in my veins, I hoped
I was, I’d be light enough of foot to outrun Archer.

But I was wrong again.

I was fast. But not as fast as
Archer.

I threw the bow aside, hoping this would cause him to stop
and pick it up, and give me time to get away.

He did stop, though soon he was closing the gap between us.
I heard his pace quicken.

I glanced back over my shoulder, my hair whipping my eyes.
The tall, strong, lean figure, dressed in blue, part medieval knight, part fae,
carrying the bow in his right hand, hunted after me. He looked as fit as
Sabastien and Daire, and bore a handsomeness that deeply affected my senses. He
frightened me, and fascinated me. A lethal combination. These fae were a
distraction, their beauty part of their guile to ensnare the unwary, to entice
me to falter or fall for them.

Keep going, I told myself. Run. Run.

‘Vesper!’ he shouted, his voice spurring me on to get away
from him. Hearing him shout my name gave me the coldest feeling, and yet it
enticed me. Another spell to reel me in, I thought.

Something silver shimmered ahead. A river? Yes. I could
swim. I could get away from Archer, unless…I glanced back again. He’d drawn an
arrow from its sheath and while running he’d secured it in the bow.

I heard the arrow slice through the air, missing me by a
whisker, causing me to almost stumble.

Where was the river? Panic burned my throat. Then I saw it,
moments away. I could make it. I ran and dived towards the water, but Archer
flew and caught me. I struggled. He dropped me. I ran on again, into the
darkest forest I could ever have envisaged.

Shadows and trees with twisted vines trailed to the ground
thick with leaves. Almost silent. Somewhere in its depths a haunting wind blew
through the branches, touching my hair, and a whispering warning —
beware
…
beware
…

I trudged on, pushing the branches aside. I’d no intention
of venturing far, just far enough to hide from Archer until I was sure he’d
gone.

A monster’s roar made me stop and look around, my breath
like mist in the icy atmosphere. It roared again, sounding all around me. Which
direction should I run? Or should I hide?

‘Vesper!’ Archer’s voice sounded again. ‘Don’t run. Don’t
move, or he’ll kill you.’

Movement from the trees made me trust his warning.

Archer aimed his bow, not at me this time, but at an unseen
monster, unseen by me at least. The arrow wasn’t blue or crystal; it was dark,
a vague outline, as was Archer, though his ice blue eyes glanced at me before
he fired. Even in the gloom, the intensity and colour of his eyes was
unnervingly beautiful. His face was sculptured and pale, and his blue–blond
hair seemed darkened by the dampness of our surroundings. Everything about him
was intense, from the upswept angle of his eyes to the determined line of his
tempting lips.