Authors: David H. Burton
Tags: #england, #paranormal romance, #fantasy, #britain, #nookbook, #fiction, #romance, #Broken, #fey, #myth, #ebook, #fairies, #faery, #trolls, #epub, #celtic, #mobi, #magic, #faeries, #David H. Burton, #nymphs, #kindle, #fairy
I closed my eyes, wishing all this would go away.
I was asleep in seconds.
I don’t remember a lot of my dreams, but this one was
particularly vivid. It was one of those dreams within a dream. Two
levels down from the real world, I walked through a forest, except
the trees weren’t like ordinary trees — the bark seemed
velvety. Also, the forest smelled different. It didn’t have
that musty smell. Instead it was more like apples and berries.
Flowers grew among the trees, and the sunlight that
penetrated the canopy was soft and golden.
I looked down. I was wearing a formal silk gown. It cinched at
the waist and was obscenely puffy — something I would only be
seen in if it was a costume party, if then. Most of it was a deep
emerald that matched the earrings I’d been given. I reached
to my ears. The earrings weren’t there.
A stream wound through the forest and I caught a glimpse of
movement. I hitched up the dress and stepped forward in my bare
feet. The ground was soft and supple.
Along the shore, delicate creatures winged about, frolicking
with each other. They looked at me, giggled and waved. I waved
back. It seemed the polite thing to do. Then they flew
downstream.
I considered following them, but decided to take the opposite
direction.
The trek upstream was an easy one. It wasn’t like in other
dreams where I would have to run to get somewhere and barely gain
any ground. This was a smooth walk, almost effortless. I came to a
part of the stream where the water flowed down a small rocky ledge
in a little waterfall. A large boulder split the stream, just down
from where the water frothed and bubbled. Upon it stood the little
green man — Brokk, as my aunt had called him.
He wasn’t waving to me, nor was he motioning me to put on
earrings. He had his hands up, gesturing for me to stop. There was
a look of worry on his usually serene face.
I kneeled at the side of the stream. Brokk found little rocks to
jump across and made his way to me.
“Hello, Brokk,” I said. I think I was starting to
accept he was real. A million questions still ran through my mind,
but I knew that what I had been experiencing had been real all this
time.
Brokk said nothing. I don’t know if he was capable of
speaking, but as he pointed up at the waterfall and shook his head, I
understood what he was saying. After everything I’d seen, I
pondered taking his advice. All this time it seemed he’d been
somehow trying to help me. Perhaps it would be prudent to listen
and just let whatever waited up that waterfall be. On the other
hand, telling me not to do something was just an open invitation.
So, with my curiosity piqued, I rose and tiptoed further, taking
care to not to let my head emerge too quickly above the rise.
I inched up.
At first I didn’t see anything that warranted
concern, but then I saw, just a little ways off in the distance, a
clearing in the trees. In it were two people — the man was
dark-haired and clean-cut with that prominent chin I had come to
expect from the Gregory family. With him was the golden-haired woman.
I wasn’t sure if they were dancing or wrestling, but I
ducked the moment I saw her.
Oh, god
.
The last time I’d come across her, she’d tried to
kill me. I would have thought it just a dream if I hadn’t
coughed up salt water all over Chris.
Perhaps I should have taken Brokk’s advice. Coming up here
was a bad idea.
The part of my head that was most interested in
self-preservation finally took over. I slipped carefully back down
to where I’d found Brokk.
He was gone.
I didn’t plan on sticking around either.
I didn’t want to know how this Gregory died. I
didn’t want to witness it, and I didn’t want that woman
to find me.
I decided to travel downstream this time and I hustled. In fact,
I hitched up my dress and ran. Pounding in my chest was a terrible
fear. Sobs of fright escaped my lips with tears that slid down my
cheeks.
The stream ran with me, fast and choppy over rocky terrain. I
didn’t stop. My feet swept forward at a pace that in the real
world I could never match. Through the trees I fled, until I found
the little winged creatures I’d seen earlier. They gathered
at a pool that the stream fed into.
Breathless, I paused at its edge. A cluster of men and women,
most pale of skin, frolicked naked in the water.
Among them was Chris.
I didn’t know what to do, but being frightened for my life
and seeing a familiar face, his name escaped my lips before I had a
chance to think if that was a good idea or not.
“Chris,” I whispered.
He didn’t seem to hear me. He kept frolicking with the
others, and eventually it took a bit of a different turn. The light
playing started to turn into heavy petting. I stood agape for a
moment. He cavorted with all of them, kissing them each, in
turn.
My heart ached. I closed my eyes.
This wasn’t real. It was just a dream.
I tried to rationalize it. We’d only just hooked up. It’s
not like we’d been together long.
Yet, there was an ache in my chest. We’d been friends for
a year. During that time, I’d grown to like him and maybe
something more. Yet now that I finally had him, here he was doing
this.
I shook my head.
It’s a dream, Katherine. Not real.
Then something happened in the pool.
They all started to sprout tattoo-like markings, except they
were golden and glowing. Their ears changed to pointed tips. When
it happened to Chris as well, I shook my head. I thought it
couldn’t be him, but those emerald eyes looked in my
direction. He smiled that grin at me, and then I woke up.
The smell of berries and apples was the first thing I noticed.
Then it was the smell of old lady sofa. I opened my eyes and found
Aunt Marigold sitting on a matching puffy chair. There was a warmth
to her eyes. It made me think of how I’d watched my father look at
my nine-month-old self.
“Hello, luv,” she said. “Feeling
better?”
Chris stood in the background, leaning against the wall. I knew
what I’d just dreamt wasn’t real, but something was off. His
stance, his look — none of them were Chris. At least, not the
Chris I knew. His eyes refused to look at mine.
“Perhaps a cup of tea will help,” Aunt Marigold
said. There was a pot, complete with tea cozy, sitting on the
coffee table. Delicate cups with milk and sugar waited. I sat up
and Aunt Marigold poured.
Chris shifted over by the wall, arms folded across his chest. He
was obviously unhappy about something.
The main thing about him that kept droning in my head was how my
aunt could have sent him. Natalie had been my roommate for a year.
She was supposed to be his sister. I rarely saw her as she was
always traveling, but I’d been associating with Chris to one
degree or another since she’d moved in.
What kind of setup
was this?
Yet, Chris
was
the one who brought the ficus. And, it was after
the plant showed up I started seeing more of the little green dude.
It seemed almost ridiculous to make the assumption, but then again,
if my aunt had sent Brokk, or whatever his name was, then it was very
possible she could have sent Chris. So what the hell was
he
?
I shuddered.
I’d slept with him.
More than once.
I took a deep breath. It was time to take back some control. I was going to get some answers. Now.
I stood up and marched over to him. He unfolded his arms, but
fidgeted where he stood.
“What are you?” I asked him.
He almost fell over. This time, his eyes looked into mine, and I
made sure he knew I wasn’t playing around. Those green eyes
weren’t going to charm their way out of this.
Chris cast a questioning look at my aunt.
“No,” I said. “You look at
me
. And you tell me
the truth. You owe me at least that much.”
His eyes still had trouble meeting mine.
“You’re not human, are you?” I asked.
I really wished he would tell me otherwise, but my heart sank
when he looked at me. His eyes weren’t shining.
“No,” he said.
Chris didn’t budge or blink.
“Then what are you?”
I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation.
Oh,
god, I slept with him.
“I’m a Changeling,” he finally said.
The word repeated itself in my head.
Changeling. Changeling
.
I can’t say I was all that up on folklore, but somehow the
word made me think of stolen babies. I looked over at my aunt.
“A Changeling?” I asked.
She nodded her head, acknowledging that what he’d said was
truth.
“All right, either both of you are horribly insane or
someone better fill me in on what’s going on because I really
feel like someone just took a chainsaw to the little bubble I used
to call my world.”
My aunt sat on the sofa and patted the seat next to her.
“Sit,” she said. “Have some tea and we’ll
tell you what you need to know.”
My mind spun for a moment. Was I really having this
conversation?
I looked back at Chris. I didn’t have to tell him in words
he’d lied to me and betrayed me. I made sure my eyes told
him. He had trouble holding my gaze before he gestured to the
sofa.
“Please, Katherine.”
I wanted to slap him. I turned my back to him and marched to the
sofa.
My aunt poured us both a cup of tea, two lumps in mine, five in
hers.
Chris sat down in the puffy chair, arms resting on his knees,
hands folded in front of him.
“All right,” I said, trying to keep my mind open. I
looked right at him. “Start at the beginning. And don’t
leave anything out.”
Chapter 13
Aunt Marigold drained her tea cup before she spoke. She seemed
to need to think as to where to begin. I sipped as I waited for
her, but was getting close to choking the words out of her. It was
starting to eat at me that the two of them had been plotting
something behind my back.
“First,” Aunt Marigold said, “to answer your
question, yes, Chris is a Changeling — his father was one of
the fey folk, his mother was human.”
I nodded.
Fine
. My first love left me without any explanation
and ripped my heart to shreds, and now I’d just slept with, and was
falling for, something that wasn’t human.
Just fucking grand.
“Second, I sent him to you. You didn’t respond to my
past letters, asking you to visit. And the medication that your
mother had you on for years was blocking your ability to
communicate with Brokk and the others.”
I looked at Chris. “Is that why you brought the
ficus?”
He nodded.
“So how were you planning on getting me here?” I
asked. “We got here just in time for my birthday. And it was
because of those papers I got from Mother that all of this started
to happen.”
He shrugged. “I had trouble with you. Those
meds, or something, was stopping me from charming you. The papers
were just the excuse I needed to get you on a plane.”
A few things were running through my mind. The most emotional
one burst forward.
“What do you mean by
charming
me? What the hell is
that?”
He looked at Aunt Marigold for help.
I put up my finger. “No, I want to hear it from
you.”
He took a breath and his hands fidgeted. “I can charm
almost anyone into doing what I want. It’s sort of a gift of mine.
In the beginning I tried using it on you, but it didn’t
work.”
“What? Oh my god, is that why I slept with you, because you
charmed
me into it?”
He raised his hands. His eyes had a pleading look. “No,
it’s not like that!”
I got up. I felt dirty and used.
I marched out the door, even though I heard the two of them
calling after me.
“Katherine!”
I trudged for the gates. I wasn’t sure I could take any
more of this. I needed to clear my head, or go for a drive, or go
home and hide under the covers, or dope myself into Chris-less
oblivion with Dr. White’s Make-It-All-Go-Away pills.
“Katherine!” called Aunt Marigold. “You
can’t leave!”
Chris’s feet padded the ground behind me, but I
wasn’t stopping. My feet stormed forward.
He grabbed me by the shoulder. I almost swung around and hit
him.
“You can’t leave,” he said. “Your
birthday has now passed and the only place you’re safe is
within this garden.”
I fisted my hands. “What are you talking about?”
“The woman who’s after you, she can’t get past
the iron gates. You’re safe in here.”
I looked to the gates. She certainly wasn’t standing there
waiting for me. I continued to march towards them.
“Katherine, please,” he said. He kept pace beside
me. “The moment you step out those gates, she has
you.”