normal. She wasn’t even certain she had it in her to be a mother. And Jullian was so great with children. He’d be such a great father.
I don’t deserve him.
She pictured him as he’d told her what he’d wanted to name his firstborn son and remembered the fear in her heart as she’d thought about how deep her issues were. The idea of becoming a parent, the emotional responsibility ...
when she couldn’t even take care of herself ... terrified her. Then, she imagined Jullian with someone better ... someone unbroken ... someone who could have his children and be the perfect wife and partner he deserved. All of that business about her forgoing medical school and moving out on her own had turned up to be nothing more in the end than her running away from the truth.
If there were ever a moment she felt like really falling apart, really crying and letting go, it would be now. Yet, her
cheeks were dry and devoid of tears. She couldn’t even grant Jullian that much. She wasn’t even capable of dealing with her emotions. How could she have expected to amount to anything worthwhile in life?
Numbly, she unscrewed the lid to the bottle of pills in her hand. She’d tread this ground in the past. She knew the mistakes and how to avoid them now. She knew how much to take and when to take it.
“I’m sorry, Jullian.” She closed her eyes.
Aubrey hadn’t expected to wake up. She’d taken four times the amount necessary to end her life.
“Aubrey, are you awake?” Grant asked hoarsely. He sounded tired.
The light hurt her head, but she forced her eyes open anyway. Grant’s face was the first thing she saw. He looked angry.
“Accidental overdose,” he said in a harsh whisper. “That’s what we’ve told the media. I’d love to believe that myself, but we all know better. What the hell were you thinking?”
She struggled to sit up. When she did, she saw Jullian slouched asleep in a chair in the corner. His face was streaked with tears, his eyes puffy.
“You’re lucky he got up to take a piss.” Grant looked at Jullian for a long moment before turning his gaze back to Aubrey and softening his tone. “Why didn’t you call me? You told me once that if you ever felt this way again, you’d call me. Do you remember that?”
“I don’t deserve...” Aubrey trailed off. She wanted to tell Grant why she’d done it, but simply didn’t know how.
When she couldn’t get the words out, she rolled onto her side, away from Jullian.
Grant lowered to see her eye-to-eye.
“Is this about him?”
Aubrey knew he wasn’t talking about Jullian and she clenched the sheet. “Please Grant ... I don’t want to talk about him.”
His eyes darkened, a fury in them that she’d never seen. “That’s what it was about the first time wasn’t it? It didn’t have anything to do with your friends or that kid who broke up with you at school ... God, I was so stupid. I should have gotten you help then. I’m sorry, Aubrey, I hold the blame here.”
He stood then, with that same look in his eyes ... disappointment. She’d never felt more ashamed to be alive.
AISLINN
IMMEDIATELY
STOPPED
LAUGHING.
“What’s wrong?”
Aubrey tried her voice but this time nothing came out except a harsh rasp.
Shocked, she patted her throat.
“Given!” Aislinn yelled. He lowered his shoulder for her to climb onto.
“You don’t look so good. You’re all red.” Lipsey touched his tiny cold nose to her skin and said, “Your cheek feels hot too.”
“Go on ahead Lips, find Given.
We’ll be behind you.” Aislinn waited until Aubrey was holding on tightly before he moved. She wanted to tell him that she could walk, but something told her the dizziness was only going to get worse. It wasn’t the Time Wraith’s doing, this was something else. Aislinn momentarily lost his footing, causing Aubrey to grab his fur tighter.
After half an hour of mucking through what looked like endless swamp, they finally came to a mild clearing where the fog wasn’t as thick. Given and Lipsey were waiting for them.
“She can’t talk.” Aislinn slowly lowered himself, allowing Aubrey to slide off.
Given pressed her hand to Aubrey’s forehead and frowned. “Her skin burns to the touch. Have you eaten anything odd?
You could just be exhausted; a wound like yours isn’t an ordinary wound.”
Aubrey protested, remembering the shot she’d been given by the madame. She tried to act it out but only got stunned silence in return.
“I don’t quite know what you’re trying to say.” Given looked away in thought, “Have you been given anything— a tonic, or drug?”
“The madame drugged her with nightshade,” Aislinn said, “but it has long since worn off, I can’t—”
Given grabbed his arm suddenly, cutting him off. “She’s taken nightshade?”
“I hardly think now is the time for piousness, especially considering—”
She cut him off again, “It’s poisonous to those from Aubrey’s world.”
“No, it isn’t. Besides, how could you possibly know anything about Aubrey’s world?” Aislinn snapped.
Lipsey answered before Given could, “The madame is from the land of no magic, Tabor said so.”
Given ignored Aislinn and leaned down to take Aubrey’s face in both of her hands. “I can’t heal your wounds, but I can take care of the nightshade. Close your eyes.”
“What are you doing to her?” Aislinn demanded.
“Nothing you wouldn’t do yourself if you were able. Aislinn, the nightshade will kill her long before the Time Wraith’s poison has had a chance to. Step back.”
Aubrey was about to push Aislinn away when warmth began to seep into the icy knot that was lodged in her middle.
Slowly, her heart rate returned to normal and the headache and dizziness passed.
Given stepped back, her eyes showing surprise and even stranger, sorrow.
“That was amazing! What else can you do? Can you be invisible?” Lipsey jumped into Aubrey’s lap and looked up at Given.
“I’m afraid I can’t, though there have been a great many times in my life when that would have been a very useful skill.”
Given
helped
Aubrey
stand,
her
expression still grave.
“I bet,” Aislinn grumbled.
“Do you realize this could have killed her?” Given shouted, suddenly sounding far more authoritative than Aubrey would have guessed the Shade could be and, oddly enough, panicked.
“I’m sorry. Ignore him,” Aubrey said.
“Thank you.” Aubrey clenched her jaw as Aislinn walked on ahead of them.
“It’s all right. Do you need to rest here for awhile?”
“No,” Aubrey said, “We need to keep going.”
They traveled in silence for several hours before any of them spoke again.
“He has every right to hate my kind, but we aren’t all evil,” Given said, “And there are Fae who oppose Saralia’s rule.”
Lipsey made himself comfortable on Given’s shoulder as they walked.
“Why haven’t they done anything?”
“Because it’s crap! What she’s saying isn’t worth the time it takes to hear it!” Aislinn came back into view through the fog. Aubrey hadn’t realized he was that close.
Given smiled politely. “Oberon, Saralia’s brother, rules in Agincourt and cannot fight her. If Saralia dies, then he dies as well. Her spell keeps both of them alive.”
“That’s precisely what I mean,”
Aislinn said with superficial sweetness.
“To sit back and allow her rule just to prolong his own life is just as evil as Saralia herself.”
“He has a point,” Lipsey said.
Aubrey didn’t disagree with Aislinn, but Given seemed to be telling the truth.
“Couldn’t he just take the throne from her?”
“No, the Lyr, the force that fuels Saralia’s spells, has been brought into darkness now. It would take someone truly pure of heart to sway its power. If you aren’t strong enough—”
“What, he doesn’t think he’s pure of heart? Shocking,” Aislinn said.
“You don’t understand,” Given paused suddenly, short of breath. “The Lyr cannot pass to him. It has once already, through Saralia’s spell. She granted him eternal life through it.”
Aubrey suddenly felt sick. The madame had tried to sway the Lyr and had been found unworthy—would Aubrey also be found lacking? That’s why Tabor questioned her. He’d once had faith in Lady Crimson.
He wanted me to see what I would face if I failed.
“Oberon’s truce with Saralia isn’t any worse than Man’s truce with her. Both kings compromised and both kingdoms now suffer the consequences of those choices.” Given’s eyes looked glassy— feverish.
“You’re...”
Given shook her head and motioned for them to continue on. Whatever bothered her, she clearly didn’t want to involve Aislinn and Aubrey couldn’t blame her for it.
They made their way through the swamp, passing through fields and forest.
By the time night fell, they had found a place by the lake to rest for the night.
Aubrey hadn’t felt the wounds on her back at all; in fact, it was almost like they weren’t there. She would have been convinced of it, but when she reached over her shoulder, she could feel the gashes.
They sat around a campfire, Lipsey curled up against Aislinn, Given lying below a tree nearby on a bed of moss.
Aubrey stared at the fire, remembering a vacation she and Jullian had taken with her family to Aspen.
She spared a glance at Given. She looked so young, maybe nineteen or twenty at the most, but what caught Aubrey’s attention was the shame in her eyes. She took a deep breath, and felt the hollowing in her middle as she recalled the night she had finally told Jullian.
Once ...
The fire crackled in the large family room at the Wright home in Aspen. Aubrey hadn’t wanted to come and had done everything in her power to avoid it, but Jullian had insisted that getting out of town would do Aubrey some good, help her clear her head. He worried about her constantly now—hardly let her out of his sight. They’d spent the last three days skiing and she’d made a decent run at snowboarding. Her back was killing her, her legs ached and she wasn’t entirely sure that she still had toes—she certainly couldn’t feel them.
Grant stood just ahead of her, in front of the window with his back to the room, one hand hung in his pocket, the other holding a glass. His obnoxious wife Dana, Brooke and the children were sitting around the room doing various things: reading,
playing
cards,
watching
television. Harry was with Jullian and her parents were unaccounted for. Aubrey was on edge. This was the longest amount of time she’d spent with her parents since she’d moved out.
A hand slid suggestively across her collarbone from behind and she violently recoiled, only to realize it was Jullian, who’d returned early from his last run down the mountain. He paused to consider her response before revelation flashed across his face and forced him to close his eyes. He swallowed hard, then as discreetly as he could, he pulled Aubrey away to their room. Once he’d shut the door behind them, he took her slight frame by the shoulders.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
She kept her eyes on the floor.
“Aubrey, please ... please ... forgive me. You tried to tell me in so many ways.”
He shook his head, clearly remembering the conversations that led up to the trip.