Curse And Craving

42

Anxiety was an insidious weed taking root deep in my gut, but I fell into step with him, ready to confront whatever he had to say. “I’ve sensed your reluctance to be involved in our world from the moment we met. Somehow, you’ve lived completely in the dark up until recently, and you’ve clung to that life in the face of all the evidence to the contrary. I’ve refrained from forcing the issue, but you need to accept some truths after all that's happened. The first time I spoke with you, I did so because I sensed that you weren’t fully human.” I stumbled, then gawked up at him, thinking surely, he was joking, but his stoic features held no humor. “I have human parents, baby pictures, and I know I’m not adopted. Mom has pictures of my birth!” It was absurd. Inconceivable. He had to be wrong. “At first, I thought perhaps you were the offspring of Fae and human. I’ve never heard of such a thing happening, but I knew of no other way that I would sense both human and Fae from you.” “I’m human. If you sense Fae, it’s because you sense the necklace,” I stated firmly. “Your powers, Rebecca—” He started before I cut him off. “It’s the necklace,” I insisted. “That’s the Fae power you’re sensing.” “I wish it were that simple, but I’m a hunter, and I can sense these things. You are Fae, at least, in part. Maybe you were once fully human, but you aren't entirely human anymore.” He stepped closer. “I forbid any of my men to speak of my discovery to you or anyone else. If the knowledge of your existence got out, you could be in even more danger.” My breathing was labored, making it hard to get enough air. “How could that have happened? Is it even possible?” I began to walk again, wanting to get to the safety of my home and away from Lochlan's terrifying words. “I'm not aware of this happening before although that’s not my area of expertise. After learning about the necklace, my best theory is that your body has been absorbing its power over the years. Now that you’re that much closer to Faery here in Ireland, where the veil between worlds is the thinnest, the process has sped up. The energy in the necklace has transformed your body and changed its molecular structure.” What was this, some deranged version of Spider-Man? People didn’t just mutate. Every time I thought I was starting to get my footing, some new bit of information knocked me on my ass. This more than any. Being stuck with a magic necklace was one thing, but becoming Fae was another. My lungs struggled to get enough air. “The necklace only came to life just recently, like it didn’t even have power until I came to Belfast. How could this all have happened so quickly?” “That doesn’t mean it wasn't always powerful. You were just unaware.” He effectively shot down my argument. “Your healing abilities are examples of your new Fae nature. I don't believe the necklace was imbued with healing powers. As Fae, we don't need to put such magic in a talisman as we already possess those powers on our own.” I was quiet again, raw with emotion and unsure what to say or what to think. “There is one more thing.” “Seriously?” I balked. He grimaced. “The powers you’ve exhibited … they’re unknown to me.” “Unknown? As in you've never seen them before?” “Precisely.” “When I put darkness into the Red Cap?” I recalled the way he’d watched me. There’d been a severity to his features that had worried me. His chin dipped in confirmation. “And how you knew the Red Caps were hiding in the shadows. These are not normal gifts for Seelie or Unseelie. We use light magic. What you exhibited was more in line with the Shadow Fae and dark magic. If that amulet is, in fact, the source of your powers, I’d say it was forged somewhere in the Shadow Lands. How it ended up around your neck is another matter entirely, but with Merlin’s appearance, I’d say he likely played a role.” I nodded absently, but I struggled to keep up. I was becoming Fae. And not just any Fae, I was going dark. Gaining the power of something grotesque like the Draug, lurking in shadows and hunting to kill. My despair was crippling. I was a hornet’s nest of fear, and frustration, and frantic desperation. Emotions so intense and overwhelming that my brain packaged them up neatly into a box and buried it deep inside me, leaving me blessedly numb and safe. I didn’t say a word until we reached my apartment. Turning, I spoke in a hollow voice, unable to meet Lochlan’s eyes. “Thank you for being patient with me and for explaining this. I think I’d like to have some time alone to process it all.” He pulled me into his arms, pressing his lips against my temple. “Don’t be afraid of the unknown merely because it’s unknown. Your strengths will see you through this.” I nodded and pulled away, needing to be alone. The silent darkness of my apartment was a welcome reprieve. I didn’t want to see or hear or think. As I stepped toward the stairs, thick arms wrapped around me from behind, one giant hand firmly covering my mouth. I wrenched forward violently, panic ripping me from my protective cocoon of numbness. I fought fiercely but was no match for my assailant’s vise-like grip. The element of surprise had tipped the scales vastly in his favor. He released one of his hands, but before I could try to pull free, that hand came to rest on my forehead, and my body went limp. Everything faded to black. OceanofPDF.com Chapter Eighteen VOICES PENETRATED THE HAZY FOG IN MY MIND. I was too groggy to comprehend what they said. My addled brain simply listened to the melodic back and forth of conversation like a boat swaying on the ocean. Eventually, I roused enough to identify two voices— a man and woman—talking in hushed tones. They sounded like British aristocracy. Aloof and slightly bored. “I've tried to take it off, both with magic and force. It will not budge. I don’t think it can be done, at least not by us,” said the man from my left. The woman responded coolly. “I would have been surprised if you could. He would not be so careless as to allow its removal.” Her voice was confident, firm, and a bit frightening. Where was I? Who were these people? My heart rate increased as I recalled being attacked in my apartment. The floral scent around me wasn’t familiar. I was no longer at home. My head ached somewhat, but I was otherwise uninjured and seemed to be comfortably resting on a bed, clothes still intact. “We could always kill her,” the man said flatly. “Removing her head should do the trick.”