Chapter 9 Refusal
I went home to an empty house. My dad was probably still at work and I had no idea where my mom might be. Our cottage was a simple structure of wood with vines growing all over it. I had cried over the trees when I was little before I learned some unpleasant sacrifices were necessary for survival. About a year ago, he had changed the roof to some synthetic human material I couldn't feel or identify and I had mixed feelings about it. I liked that it saved a tree, but it just felt so disturbingly empty. At least with wood, in death, it had the memory of life.
Thinking about Jack Wright's semi-formal comment, I showered—another human invention that most fae tolerated for convenience, although the real sticklers amongst us eschewed even that—and picked a fairly fancy dress from my wardrobe. It was of shades of flowing light turquoise and brought out the colour of my eyes as my mother had pointed out on multiple occasions. I inspected myself in the mirror, noting that I was going to have to dye my hair again soon to hide the streaks of unnatural bluish roots that were beginning to show. I'd always envied the other fae who had human-looking hair, because they didn't have to worry as much about trying to fit in unnoticed when they went amongst the humans. Not that I did that much before.
It shouldn't matter tonight, though. The one small plus was that I didn't need to hide my true nature from a pack of werewolves, so I put it out of my mind and headed out the door, barefoot, with shoes in hand. I'd shove my feet back into captivity once I got there. I didn't need shoes to fly.
No sooner had I stepped out the door when I heard a familiar voice call out to my name.
"Rex," I said, turning to face the familiar fae. He had an affinity for water and was quite handsome, and he reminded me of an oak tree. His eyes were the exact green of the leaves, his hair was a lot like the colour of the bark, and personality wise he'd always seemed as strong and inflexible as one. It wasn't an entirely bad trait. He had been very loyal and steady when we'd been friends as children. We'd also dated for almost four years in our later teens until I broke it off. During our time as a couple Rex had become increasingly extreme in his fae isolationist views. I didn't want to spend all my time listening to rants about how terrible everything was and how bad all the other species were. I wanted to spend my time brewing fairy juice and growing my precious plants and focusing on the people and things that actually mattered in my life.
"You look beautiful."
We were supposed to be just friends again, but Rex sometimes made it awkward and this was one of those moments. I gave him a half smile. "Yeah, thanks."
"Where are you going?"
"Nowhere exciting. I just have to clear something up." I definitely wasn't going to tell him that Jack Wright thought I was his mate and endure an hour long rant about how evil that particular werewolf was. I'd already listened to enough rants on the travesty of infusing human technology with magic rightfully belonging to the fae to willingly walk straight into another one.
He examined me. "Oh?"
I met his eyes. "I'm sorry, Rex, but you know it's really none of your business. And it's nothing I can't handle. You'll just need to trust me."
"I do trust you."
We were getting back into dangerous territory. "Trust that I know what's best for myself." It wasn't to be the mate of a werewolf, but even more so it wasn't to be in a relationship with Rex, either, no matter how much he might wish it were otherwise. "And even if I don't, my mistakes are mine to make. I'll see you around," I said. Then, summoning my magic, I willed my wings to appear inside each of my shoulder blades with the effortlessness of breathing. A moment later, I was in the air, leaving Rex standing on the ground, watching me as I darted away.
Vampires were fast and almost impossible to destroy. Werewolves weren't as fast as vampires, but they were strong and could transform. From what I had heard, both species had phenomenal senses, and both definitely leaned carnivorous.
And both species, like humans, apparently could learn to use magic to some degree if they put in the effort.
We fae were physically weaker than even humans. While we could fly like the wind, we were slow on the ground and our reflexes—besides our wings—were no better than those of mundane humans.
But none of that mattered to me, because we fae were magic. We were born with it as much as a werewolf was born with their wolf and it was as innate as a vampire's desire for blood.
It flowed in our blood, it sang through our words, it lived in our actions. It was as easy as breathing to sprout my wings, to make plants grow, to manipulate the world around me beyond the mundane physical.
I passed through the wards around our village with barely a thought. In the past, we'd had to be more cautious and our numbers had been in sharp decline, but the world was safer for the fae now since the hunters and supernatural species had signed peace accords. A few wards were enough to keep us separate and safe. Vampires weren't allowed to drink our blood without consent nowadays, and the rumours that fae could be used to strengthen the magic abilities of other creatures was now widely considered a superstitious myth. Hunters typically dismissed us as non-threatening supernaturals and mundane humans no longer believed we existed so we were safe from them as well.
It was a better world than in my great-grandparents' day, even if a subset of the fae were getting more angry and reclusive and couldn't see that obvious truth. We were left alone to live our lives in peace. What more could the fae ask of the rest of the world?
I dodged trees as I whipped through the forest on swift wings and before long I was nearing the city. Jack's mansion was on the outskirts, so I was able to fly nearly the whole way there, before dropping to the ground, releasing my wings, and walking the rest of the way barefoot. Once I got to the edge of the property, I slipped on my shoes and walked up the drive.
As I approached the gate, I spotted two guards. Pale and unnaturally still, I suspected they were vampires. A part of me wanted to turn around and head back the way I came, or maybe sneak in through the delivery gates we'd used the first time I came here, but since they had clearly already spotted me it would be weird if I ran away. I walked forward.
I tried to keep a confident tone, but it was hard when speaking to people who I knew would love the taste of my blood. "Hi, Jack Wright invited me to come to the celebration tonight." If they grabbed me and drained me dry instead of letting me in, no one would ever know what became of me. I kept my eyes on them and my mind on my wings. Risking exposure of our race was allowed as a last resort in life or death situations. The fae senate would deal with the fallout later if that happened. Mundane memories could be modified if necessary.
But surely Jack Wright wouldn't have told me to come here if his vampire guards were going to attack me. I'd be fine.
"Name?"
"Aura Darrow."
He nodded, and the gates opened as if by magic, although I couldn't sense any involved. I walked inside, still keeping the corner of my eye on the vampires. They made no moves towards me and the further I got away from them the more that I relaxed.
Reaching the large main doors of the mansion, I found them opening for me as well, but this time it was a male werewolf who was a bit older than me. He was wearing a suit and had his brown hair slicked back to lie neatly against his scalp. "Miss Darrow, if you'll follow me," he said, and I did as he said, because really, what choice did I have now that I was here?
Maybe it had been a mistake to come and tell him that I wasn't interested in person rather than just calling him with the number he had given me. But talking on the phone was just so creepy.
It was too late for regrets. I followed the werewolf through the entryway. It was beautiful in an aesthetic sense, but it still had that same dead feeling that I so disliked in the city. Anything that had once been alive had lost its energy and all the synthetics and non-living matter had never been alive at all, or had been so long ago it was essentially the same.
I sighed and held my breath as we reached the hall. It was late enough that I had missed any supper they might have had, but that didn't bother me. I had no interest in the meat-heavy meals that the werewolves would likely prefer, and I wasn't here to celebrate anything regardless. If anything, I was slightly nauseous. How would he take my refusal? This really hadn't been my best idea. What if the werewolves attacked me for rejecting one of their members?
The doors were already open, so we walked freely inside. The room was decorated with an obvious moon theme, not surprising considering the importance it had for their wolves, and everything seemed crisp white or silver and sparkling. There were people all around the room, talking laughing, eating, or dancing. And at the far end, there were two large doors, open wide presumably to let in a cooling breeze. It was also my escape route, if this went terribly wrong.
I'd only had a second to take in everything before he came forward and completely diverted my attention towards him, like a sunflower turning towards the sun. Jack had been quite striking even when in casual clothing and appearing to be an odd common worker, but now he was in his element. The bruising that had marred his face this morning was almost completely faded, leaving him looking ridiculously perfect. He was wearing a simple shirt and trousers that fit him perfectly, and his expression—some mixture of disbelief and excitement—was almost enough to make me reconsider what I had come here to tell him.
"You came," he said. My heart pounded as if finally remembering it needed to beat.
"Yes." I should tell him why I came right then and there, but his relieved expression made the words stick in my throat.
"I didn't really think you would."
Again, I should tell him where he stood and be done with it, and again, I failed. Why was this so hard to do?