Deception (Facets of Feyrie Book 3), page 18
“Iza… you need to come out here.” The seriousness in Adriem’s tone is enough to make me want to stop and vomit. I hate that tone, it means it’s something awful, and I don’t wanna fucking know! Taking a deep breath, I close my bedroom door and follow him to one of the main family rooms. There’s a TV the size of the wall in there and on it is the smug face of the Guide.
“What the fuck is this?” I demand.
“They call it facetiming, isn’t it lovely?” My eyes narrow on the man’s face, the inflection in the voice isn’t the same as before. The eye color isn’t either… fuck… he’s being ridden. I can’t see the true face of my enemy.
The camera swings around and Phobe’s battered face comes into focus, a concerning sight to see. There’s also a webbing of Magiks wrapped so tightly around him that I can see it cutting into the darkness that makes him what he is. He isn’t healing, at all, something I’ve never seen before. They’ve got him strung up on a metal pole, eyes full of fire and glaring hatred at the Guide.
Those fiery eyes turn to the camera, and when they meet mine, I know he can see me. For the first time since I’ve known him, they fill with something so unbelievably soft it takes my breath away. That emotion hovering there like a drop of water is so far beyond love, there isn’t a word for it, and it pulls my heart right out of my chest. I love you more than anything in any world. He mouths to me, his eyes filling with… apology.
“I love this kind of human inventions. They give you freedoms you wouldn’t normally have. For example,” the Guide-possessor starts talking again and shoves his face in the camera, “I was going to draw things out, make you suffer, simply because that idea appeals to me… but, you tend to come out on top. Even in horrible circumstances. Plus, I made a deal. However, I can’t leave things to fate. It gets so messy when you do that.” My heart is beating so fast I can hear it in my ears. My vision narrows on that screen like I’m looking down a long tunnel. “I’ll settle for the suffering I can get from making you watch while I do this.”
He turns the phone back to Phobe, and all the hair stands up on my arms when I see the flash of light. Phobe’s eyes widen but stay on the screen, looking unerringly into mine. I know that look, I’ve seen it before—I just never thought to see it in his eyes. It’s goodbye. Nononononono. It’s impossible!
“Now you have to admit that I am the supreme being, brother.” The Guide says with such hatred in it. It gives me chills.
Phobe laughs a full-on belly laugh that brings the barest hint of a reluctant smile to my lips. It’s a sad smile, the last one I’ll share with him, but I won’t keep it hidden. He wants to see it, I know it.
“You are no brother of mine.” He turns to the Guide and smiles, all monstrous teeth, then continues, “The light can be extinguished, but darkness is eternal.” Those words seem cryptic, and I decide to hold onto them, maybe because I’m desperate to have something to hold onto. “When she kills you because she will kill you one way or another, you will be remembered as the wanna-be god who did not get enough hugs from mommy.” I have never loved him more than I do right now. The smile changes into something that I’ve only seen a few times since I’ve known him. I hold up my hand, the one wearing the ring and he gives me that rarely seen happy smile. Looking into the camera unwavering, and as the light flashes again and I see the body that holds him begin to unravel he keeps smiling for me, just for me.
Helpless, there’s nothing I can do but stand there and watch the man who means more to me than anything—than absolutely anything, be turned into nothing but dark smoke. There’s a flicker in the heart of the smoke. It’s so fast I barely catch it, one of the stone-faced shifters steps forward—with familiar eyes so blue they glow—and snatches a piece of smoke out of the air. When I blink, he’s already standing back in his position, amber eyes blank.
Why is Life there now doing weird shit? Why didn’t he step in and save him?
Clenching my hands so tight my nails bury themselves to the root in my skin. I face the Guide when he puts the camera back on him. “Wow, what a show! A genuine shame that there will never be another, I’m afraid he was one of a kind.” He considers me and then shakes his head a little. “I didn’t expect the sentiment he showed you Shepherd. It looks like it’s you who made him weak enough to die so easily.”
“If you hadn’t locked him up for a thousand years, he’d own your ass, fuckface. His fist would have given you a second asshole, that’s how hard he’d have owned you. That’s how hard I will.” I vow it right then. I will annihilate all his ilk, his little helpers. Every. Single. Fucking. One.
“Little girl, I’m not afraid of you. You’re only real weapon no more.” He smiles and waves his hand towards the empty pole that once held Phobe. “I will accept your surrender now.” The only thing that gloating bastard will accept is my foot up his ass.
“You’re just pissed off that Phobe’s Magikal dick is bigger than yours. You strike me as that type of person,” I say, smiling a toothy smile and crossing my arms over my chest. Pulling on every shred of inner strength I have, I make myself relax and not give away the wrenching grief inside of me. This motherfucker isn’t going to see my pain. The only thing he’ll see coming from me is the knife in his face.
“I’m going to enjoy killing you,” I say with a light voice and an easy smile.
“I can say the same,” he grits out between his clenched teeth.
I hold up my pinky and wiggle it at him. His eyes flash, and the call cuts off. Taking two breaths, my knees give out, and I hit the floor, hard. Phobe is gone, my beautiful monster is gone. He wasn’t supposed to be able to die. He was supposed to be indestructible. This… this was never supposed to happen.
Grabbing my head with my hands I scream out my sorrow. One long, lonely roar, while I kneel there letting the tears fall, uncaring of who’s watching me. For once, I let the grief fully have its turn, let it consume me and burn through my body like acid.
Every moment we shared, every kiss, every hug. Every single fucking laugh is scorched into my memory. The look in his eyes, in the end… will haunt me forever. The emotion in them was so earth-shattering, so deep, that I could drown in it happily. God, I want to die with him, I want to see him again… I will see him again. But first, I will kill them all for this.
Pushing the pain, the worst pain of my life, down is harder than it has ever been, but I do it. Resolve hardens in my stomach like a stone. Climbing to my feet, I wipe off my cheeks and look at the stunned faces around me. Alagard, looking a bit lost for words, hands me a tissue, and then looks away—trying to hide the sympathy in his gaze. I blow my nose and pocket the tissue. Clearing my throat, I look at the somber faces around me.
From years of practice, as the pain claws my guts to bits and is slowly but surely shredding what’s left of my heart, I make myself appear calmer than I am.
Forcing myself to talk in a normal tone, I say, “I suggest everyone gets a good night’s sleep. Go have dinner, hug your families, because war is coming.” I turn towards the cage in the center of the room, which lights up, showing Ruthie bound and gagged by the Sidhe, glaring at me. Without a word, I reach through the bars and wrench her from the cage.
Screaming in pain she curses and kicks out at me. Ignoring it, I pull her face to mine, and I show her the real me, the one she never sees. I show her the monster that I am, and I growl at her. My heart is no longer interfering with what I need to say to Ruthie.
“They killed him because of you,” I spit out, so furious with her about her part in everything, that it takes me almost biting the tip of my tongue off to keep from ripping her head from her shoulders.
Pale-faced she begins to cry and goes limp in my grasp and starts blubbering over and over, “they said they wouldn’t kill anyone except you.”
How does that make it any better? I had no idea that I’m worth so little to her, that our time together as a family means nothing to her. This seems too out of character and completely unexpected. I look at her with all the Magiks in my possession, but I can’t find any evidence of a spell. We did suspect one of the kids of being possessed, initially, but not of outright backstabbing shit. Never would I have accused her of such a thing.
“How can you be so different?” I say between my clenched teeth, right in her face. “I saved you from a life of slavery and degradation. I gave you a fucking home and love. I cared about you when no one else was willing to. Did it matter at all?” I yell louder, shaking her hard enough to make her teeth rattle.
“Everything was fine until you decided to play hero!” she yells, and time freezes. My helping people made her turn against me? Why didn’t the Magiks tell me?
Wait, did I ever check her or was I dumb enough to be fooled by her? Looking at her with tears in her eyes and the dislike—the anger, all directed at me makes me take a deeper look at our interactions. Other than movie night, she avoided me most of the time. I always thought it was because she was chasing Michael.
The Magiks show me the truth now, show me the slippery slope she was on even in the beginning. Yes, Ruthie suffered, but instead of becoming stronger for it she became bitter, yes—she is technically loyal to the dark—but not in the way that she should be. The strand connecting her to me has started to decay and rot like a corpse. Like our relationship. The minute I made a choice she didn’t like she decided to sabotage me at the first opportunity. In her own, soured mind she thinks she deserves to have all of this given to her because her step-Daddy was an asshole.
Wow, life must be a never-ending disappointment to her.
“She loved you in her way, but some people are easy to lead to corruption, and she’s one of them.” The voice belongs to someone else I want to tear into almost as bad as Ruthie, Life. I drop her on her ass and turn to him, ready to do just that, but the sad look in his blue eyes stops me. “Iza, if you kill her now, you’ll never forgive yourself.” That kindly look on his face makes my heart hurt more because he might be right. He continues, “I’m so sorry, Iza… I—I broke my own rules, and I meddled, and hopefully, one day, things will be better than they are now.”
Frowning at him, I step towards him, reconsidering my stance on hitting him right in that fake wrinkly face of his. He’s up to something. I don’t know what but it’s something I won’t like. “What did you do?”
“The only thing I could do, to help you both, but I’m afraid that it won’t make things easier. Remember, darkness is eternal.” With that mysterious bullshit said, he vanishes. Standing there, staring off into space, some of my rage banks itself, and I can think more clearly. How the fuck did he get in here? The music of the Sidhe fills my head.
“You let him in here? Why?” The music comes again. Why is the Sidhe adamant that he’s trying to help me? “Can we not let them in here, please?” A sadder tone sounds acceptance of my wish.
“Who the hell are you talking to?” Ruthie demands from the floor. Didn’t she see Life? That’s interesting to know.
I turn my full attention to her. She isn’t going to like what I do next. “If you’d kept your mouth shut, I might have left you there for a while longer.” I grab her by the hair and drag her from the room. Tunnels open for me and take me where I need to go. When I get back to the family room, I toss her in the center of the group. “Do with her what you want, but she doesn’t die, not yet. I have plans for her.” Auryn steps forward and crosses her fist over her heart in salute.
“As you wish, my lady.”
There’s nothing I can do right now to vent this… mess inside of me, but there will be—I know I can find some of the ones working with the Guide. First, I need to sort myself out. I head to the lake, something about the water always seems to calm me down, even when it’s frozen.
The fiends are mourning, I can feel their sadness, even though they are trying to protect me from it. When Phobe disappeared so did his forlorn, and with them, even their male children. My poor fiends. I send my love to them—I feel even more sadness for them. Swallowing the knot of grief in my throat that’s threatening to overwhelm me again, I sit next to the lake with my legs crossed and stare out at the ice. I miss the rippling of the water, watching it chase itself to the shore. Something about the rhythmic movement is soothing, almost like a song of the spirit, or a magical heartbeat. Slowly, it starts to melt, and the first wave laps on the shore. The Sidhe is trying to comfort me.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. A few tears still manage to slip through my control but not the heart-pounding feeling from before. Nope, that’s buried and will remain there until I kill the motherfucker that took him from me. So, I think, because more tears slip out.
I have to hold onto that small spark of faith that says he isn’t dead. Darkness is eternal, right?
J ameson
IT’S hard to watch her, someone who is normally so strong, so brave—sneaking off to cry at the lake. It kicks you right in the guts. She’s done it every day now for the last two weeks. I want to comfort her, to help, but she won’t look at me. Not without her eyes going black and anger filling them. Up until I was taken, I didn’t think her opinion meant much to me. I was wrong, it means everything, and right now it’s not very high.
I fucked up, bad.
At least in that, I’m not alone. Nika is in a coma somewhere in the depths of the Sidhe, while Ruthie is in an iron cage in the family room. The Nightmares punish her every day, at the same time of day. They all gather, and each throws a handful of small pebbles at her. For five solid minutes, the entire group of them stand there and throw pebbles, the size of the tip of my pinky finger, at her—reducing her to a sobbing, bloody mess. Arista comes in, her delicate cheeks red with anger, strange to see on her normally serene face, and heals her. She only ever says one sentence to her, and that is, she doesn’t deserve to be healed. Ruthie throws tantrums for a few hours afterward, and the process starts the next day again.
The pebbles are symbolic of the people who died as a result of her betrayal. The anger of the lost souls. A bit poetic really.
Today, I decide it’s time to ask her, “Ruthie, why did you do it?”
She jumps to her feet, still healthy because Iza makes sure they feed her and runs to the bars closest to me. “Jameson! Oh my god, Jameson, get me out of here! They throw rocks at me all the time, and it hurts.” I stand there and stare at her until she shuts up.
I ask again, “Why did you do it?” I know the stupid reasons I went, but what are hers?
“Because she gets everything she wants. The keys to the kingdom, the money… even Michael. He’s supposed to be mine,” she whines.
I scoff. “You think Iza had an easy life? God, you’re dumber than I am. They tortured her for years… awful things, Ruthie. Things that you wouldn’t survive the easiest of. She grew up in prison!” I shake my head and continue, “Over and over they did terrible things to her, her entire fucking life, and you think she doesn’t deserve to have something good?” I realize that I’m yelling at her, but she deserves it, she deserves the rocks too. There’s no guilt on her face, no remorse. She’s not plagued by the nightmares of guilt and shame like I am. “If she kills you, you deserve it.”
“I’m a kid—she loves me, she won’t kill me.” The confidence in that statement is astounding and probably true. Every time Iza looks at her, through the blooming hate, I see a flash of love. Albeit one that shrinks a little every day.
“You’re not a kid anymore, Ruthie.” If I were her, I wouldn’t count on Iza not killing me, either. I wake up with that very real fear every day and try to stay out from underfoot. Phobe was captured because I was captured because I’m a fucking idiot. I was captured because Ruthie played spy and told them the magic words to get my moronic ass out of the Sidhe. A vicious cycle that played out and cost too many good people their lives.
“Will you let me out, Jameson? I’ll run away and—”
“And what? Cause more deaths? Even if I were inclined to, and I’m not, Iza would string me up by the balls and, quite frankly, because of what you did, I don’t think you’re worth going through that for,” I say and turn away. I thought I’d feel more sympathy for her, but I don’t. Despite my inability to do the right thing, I care what happens to Iza… to these people.
More so now.
Speaking of Iza, I go to the closet at the front door and put on my coat. This time of day she’s forgotten to eat and is at the lake, sitting in the muddy, wet snow, staring off into space at the water. Water that somehow thawed and is warm to the touch. No one bothers her anymore, not after she beat a few of them up, but everyone watches her from a distance, and now I feel like being a weirdo and doing it, too.
The snow is high and gets into my boots, but I keep wading through it, resolute on reaching the lake. Someone had the foresight to put lights up to illuminate the path for those of us that can’t see in the dark. Which I’m increasingly thankful for as I fight the wind that seems determined to blow me back to the Sidhe. She was out here a few days ago wearing only a shirt. I’m not entirely sure she had underwear on.
It’s heartwrenching to see someone, who is normally so strong, be a shadow of their normal selves. Other than cussing and pushing people to train she doesn’t say much of anything. The cakes the goblins have baked for her go untouched. Honestly, I’m not sure she’s eating anything, she doesn’t look like she is. Her cheekbones are sharp, her cheeks sunken, and her skin is pale. None of us know what to do about it anymore. Phobe’s death seems to have taken the life right out of her.
We need to figure out how to put it back in her, or we’re all doomed. Up ahead of me a dark figure stands out against the white backdrop of the snow. Other than them being dressed head to toe in black, I can’t make out any more details about them. Tall, on the lean side, dark hair that matches the clothes. No winter clothes. For half a second, it looks like Phobe, and then the person vanishes. I rub my eyes and look again, but no one is there. God, now I’m seeing things.
