Chapter 18

War.

It was the single most prevailing force in my life.

Wars over power, over land, over autonomy.

Always somebody wanting what somebody else has, that somebody else has stolen.

And again, it was rearing its vile, hideous head, and at a time I least wanted it to. I had a short time left in the human world. Only a few more nights before the prince vanishes, the coach becomes a pumpkin, and I’m locked away in a prison by evil family members. So very once upon a time.

The sun had touched nearly every building by the time we made it back to town. Back to my make-believe home. And just in time for my make-believe date. It was real enough for what I required it to be. A taste of the buffet that should have been mine to dine from all along. I intended to savor every moment of it.

Pushing the nastiness of the witch hunters aside—time enough to wrestle those demons tomorrow—I focused on what lay ahead. There was little these humans could do to prevent whatever malevolence either the MBD or the Shades had planned. Any heroics were sure to get them killed. Especially Abby, with her over confidence in her newborn magic. She'd likely be the first they converted... or killed.

No, I needed to get others with real power involved. Zanthiel, Adrius, the Wizard, even Oberon if necessary. The Shades were deadly, and a war between witch hunters and Immortals was not going to be good for anyone. Many lives would be lost. What I needed right now was some semblance of peace. I was so done with fighting. Violence. I'd eaten my fill and then some.

Again, I refocused. Stop. Time enough for that bitter pill later... now was the time for something sweet.

So, for just this night, I pushed all thoughts of war out of my mind. Instead, I thought of Luc. It was good to know who you wanted, but a girl should explore... expand her horizons a little. That's what Luc was—an itch I needed to scratch.

I felt bad for him in a way. He really was adorable, but he had no chance of ever replacing the one who lived in my heart. He was a fun distraction. A toy to play with while I pretended to be human. Pretended to be my sister, kissing boys and breaking hearts. I did like him; I just didn’t feel what I felt when Adrius kissed me. Still, the boy I preferred to kiss was now the one I no longer could. And he was a million miles and a whisper away.

Luc would have to do.

****

A party implied a party dress. At least it did where I came from. I chose a green dress for our night out. Emerald... to match my eyes. It fit my form closely, and the flared skirt skimmed my knees. Just provocative enough.

Vivienne had offered me a few to choose from for her concert performance, and, well, this one had me written all over it. Sharing clothing with my mother... it was sort of a bonding moment. A rite of passage even. Surely Lorelei had done this so often she gave it little thought. How easy it is to take for granted something you’ve always had. Something so precious to those who’ve never had it.

With one last glance, I flipped my hair over my shoulder and headed down the stairs.

Vivienne scanned me from head to toe as I descended the last few steps.

“Wow.” Her brows arched. “So this must be a very hot date.” She was tossing random items from the side table into the massive bag draped on the crook of her arm.

“I suppose it is,” I answered.

She nodded her approval. I wondered if she’d be as lenient if it were her precious Lorelei heading out dressed to kill in a short dress with a deep neckline.

Vivienne’s hair was perfectly done up in a high bun on her head, wrapped with intricate braids. She was dressed in a breathtaking crimson suit and had a flawless face full of going-somewhere-special makeup, and she was bustling about in the hummingbird-like fashion I’d come to realize was classically her. I watched in fascination.

“What time will you be home?” she called over her shoulder.

I frowned a little. “I don’t know. Not very late?” Which answer was the correct one here? Fortunately, she seemed too distracted and preoccupied to question my response. No one had ever asked me about my comings and goings before, so I wanted my answer to please her.

“And who’s the lucky guy?”

That one I could answer. “His name is Luc.” Short for Lucifer. I half smiled.

“Great.” She fished out her car keys and lipstick, while simultaneously slipping her feet into silver, stiletto-heeled shoes.

“Hey—” She paused, pointing at my still bare feet, “—I have some killer gold heels with emeralds on the straps. They’d be fabulous with that dress.”

In my world, fashion was something taken for granted. We wore what pleased us, when and where we liked. Here, there were unwritten rules governing proper attire for proper occasions. So if killer gold heels were what a date-night called for, then so be it.

“Thank you.” I smiled.

“In my closet.” She pointed to the stairs I’d just walked down. “Gotta run. Have fun and be safe.” She draped a thick garment bag over her arm and darted out the door.

I frowned a little but nodded. Safe as in protected from bodily harm, or protected from the sexually transmitted diseases lining the posters outside the nurse’s office? I decided it probably applied to both and let it go.

Were all mothers like this? Did she tell Lorelei to be safe when she walked out of the house? Of course she did. When she left the house, it was to walk into the arms of either an Elvin Knight or a Shadow Fey. Nothing safe about either of them.

I made my way back up the oversized staircase into Vivienne’s room. I’d never actually stepped inside. Only stood at the threshold, as if it was a sacred space of sorts. In a way it was. The shrine to a life I’d never known, a mother I didn’t know I’d had.

Her closet took up at least a quarter of the room. Double doors opened into a vast space with high ceilings and lots of hanging racks laden with clothes. One entire panel, top to bottom, was devoted to boxes of shoes. A chandelier dangling from an impossibly high ceiling glowed to life, filling the space with creamy light.

I paused to drink in my reflection in triplicate through the full-length, three-panel mirror. The dress was stunning. No need for killer heels, this knock-em dead dress could handle the job on its own. Still, my mother had offered to let me wear her dress and now her shoes. No one had ever offered to lend me their shoes. Certainly not Octăhvia. I choked back bitter laughter at the very thought of it. I’d not forgotten the icy beating I’d received the time I dared try on her crystal snowflake crown.

The gold, emerald-jeweled shoes were easy to find. As I slid them out of their box, something was knocked to the floor. A shoebox. I picked it up to slide it back in place when I stopped. It was light. Too light for shoes.

Lifting the lid, I saw why. It didn’t have footwear inside. It had a book. A journal. I pulled it out, clutching it with both hands. My mother’s journal. The woman who gave me life had penned her deepest most intimate thoughts. Things she’d probably never shared with the world. If there was a glimmer of hesitation, it was so short lived I barely registered it before I cracked open the book to the very first page.

July. I’ve decided it makes no sense to write dates. Time doesn’t matter. How can it when it’s different for different people, depending on where you live? A year ago, a decade, a lifetime. They all slip seamlessly away when you’re not looking.

I took a breath. She was melancholic and poetic. Like Lorelei. It irritated me. I flipped forward a few pages.

I saw him again today. Despite my mother’s insistence that I not. If she had her way, I’d be chained to my piano for life. I needed this. Needed him.

Oberon, I wondered. Was he the one she needed? How could anyone need such a man?

A chunk of pages further.

Today was the day I said yes to the man of my dreams. It doesn’t matter to me that he’s not from my world, only to my mother. Her hang-up with it borders on extreme paranoia. All kinds of crazy talk about how his kind can’t be trusted. How they’ll come for him and take everything we hold dear. She needs to sip more of those calming herbal teas she’s always pushing at her cafe. I have him and I have my music. All is perfect.

I flipped several more pages until I’d bypassed much of the love-drama of her life. Blah blah blah. Her wedding. Her honeymoon. Her pregnancy— I stopped, then flipped back.

Twins. Can you imagine? I’m going to have twin baby girls. How did we get so lucky? None of Mother’s fears have come true. We’re happy and we’re going to stay this way forever. I can’t wait to hold my sweet baby girls in my arms. And for the morning sickness to be over. I’m so done with that part.

A few pages were torn out after that. A dozen perhaps, maybe more. And then there was nothing. One blank page after another. I skipped almost to the end. And then paused at a page with barely a few sentences scribbled sideways across the page.

She’s gone.

And he’s gone.

And I want to die.

But I can’t… One of my babies is still alive, so I must live, too, in spite of the unbearable pain.

It wasn’t until I snapped the book shut that I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. They caught me off guard, and I touched a finger to the corner of my eye.

Something shifted in me. Her pain, my mother’s pain, radiated from that page. My hand pressed to my chest as heat spread across it. Her pain was so powerful, I felt it as if it was mine.

Whatever had happened, with me and with Oberon, it hurt her. And she’d had no part in it. Abigail was right. They were innocent victims. No more at fault in my abandonment than I was.

There was a lightness in that realization. A freedom from the anger and blame that had a chokehold so tight and so familiar I’d barely noticed its presence anymore. It was over. I could finally let it go. Let it all go. Forgiveness was truly within my grasp.

I slipped my toes into the shoes and fastened the straps. Straightening my dress, I nodded at my reflection, and upon all three versions of myself nodding back, I headed back to the foyer.

I stepped out of Vivienne’s room into the hall, hearing the blender whir to life in the kitchen.

Brigit was back. Such impeccable timing. Just in time to ruin what otherwise had the makings of a devilishly fun evening.

Oh well. Heels were high, dress was low, and my hair shone like the blood moon. Poor Luc. He wouldn’t know what hit him.

I pranced down the stairs to find Vivienne still at the bottom waiting for me.

“I thought you left.”

“I did. I came back. Thought maybe I should see who this boy was.”

Another part of me melted.

Her eyes glazed a little as she looked me over. “You look... gorgeous.” She smiled, her hand on her hip. “And if this Luc has eyes and half a brain, those will be the first words out of his mouth the second he sees you. And if they’re not, then you’ve picked the wrong guy, honey.”

Suddenly I felt a little self-conscious. As if it mattered what this woman thought of my appearance. I frowned a little, looking down at the glittery shoes. “You don’t think it’s all too much, do you?”

But she quickly shook her head. “Nope. I adore it. It’s an outfit Lorelei would never wear, even if I begged her.” Vivienne shrugged, suddenly reflective. “She and I have never had similar taste in clothing.”

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

A car pulled into the driveway, shining headlights through the windows flanking the door. My stomach twirled. It felt like I was whipping through paper-thin air at laser speed on the razor’s edge of the sky. Heady and somersaulting and slightly breathless. This was what it felt like to be human. To be normal. To be... me.

Vivienne clasped my hands in hers, her expression suddenly serious. “Is it too much mushiness if I say I’m so glad I get to be here for your first date... or, um, your first date in this world?” She was awkward and a little nervous, but I accepted the sincerity behind her sappy sentiment.

“Not too much mush at all.” I nodded.

She’d done everything in her power to make me feel comfortable and safe here. As if I belonged. As if I was wanted. As if this life was as much mine as it was Lorelei’s.

The doorbell rang. Once. Twice.

Eager. I like that.

Vivienne gave me a secretive smile and opened the door. Lucifer stood there in all his non-demon glory wearing a dark suit jacket, blue jeans, and a dazzling grin too infectious not to return.

“Hi, Mrs. Alundra. I’m Luc.”

“Nice to meet you Luc, and it’s miss,” she corrected him.

His gaze shifted to me. Dark eyes travelled down the length of me and then back up.

“Wow.” His brows arched as he nodded. “You look gorgeous, Isobel.”

My mother grinned and invited him inside.

Apparently, this daughter had picked the right guy.