Beautiful nightmares, p.63
Beautiful Nightmares, page 63
It was wrong.
Finn was still resting on the floor nearby. He watched the two of us intently.
“What did you do today?” I asked the wolf, resisting the urge to prod him with my foot. No matter how close I felt with Finn, I always strove to remember there was a person buried under all that fur. I wanted to ask if he’d been watching Amy again.
“I swear to God, sometimes it seems as if he actually understands you,” Danny remarked.
At this, I darted a glance toward Damon. I’d never directly asked how much his boyfriend knew—about Finn, about Fallen, all of it—but Danny’s comment was proof that he was completely in the dark.
“So what movie are we going to watch?” I asked abruptly. Damon shot me a grateful look.
Since Matthew was here, we decided on How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Gil got up to dim the lights, and Hello let out a pitiful mewl. Damon tucked his arm around Danny while Danny covered their legs with a blanket. Credits started on the screen.
“Yeah, I see how you’re looking at them,” Gil said in my ear. He’d come back without making a sound. “Don’t go getting any ideas. If you try to cuddle me, I’ll eat you.”
My mouth twitched, and I knocked him away with my shoulder. Then I thought of Finn. Worried he’d take Gil’s words literally, I glanced toward the werewolf. When I saw he was fast asleep, I relaxed and returned my attention to the TV. Hello tucked herself between me and Gil. I stroked her back while he scratched her chin.
Drawn by all the music and sound, Nym slipped out of his room to join us. He sat on the floor and clasped his boney knee, resting his spine against the base of the couch. Seeing the childlike expression on the faerie’s face, I wondered if he hadn’t seen many movies. As this one went on, I found myself watching him more than the screen.
At one point, Hello started purring. The vibrations traveled through me and soothed whatever worry had been lingering in my heart. Sitting there, surrounded by people I cared about and trusted, I almost felt… happy. This was the life I wanted. This was the future worth fighting for. I looked at the faces around me again and made a soft sound that no one but Finn seemed to hear. His eyes cracked open, then slid right back shut. He released a sound similar to the one I’d just let out, and I smiled.
As the minutes ticked past, I toyed with the idea of texting Laurie or Collith. The fact I didn’t know which one to choose kept me from reaching for my phone. But then an alarm went off, and I snatched it up anyway.
Damon glanced at me with a question in his eyes. Is everything okay?
I nodded and smiled, but I was distracted. Then, annoyed—there was an event on my calendar. It was misspelled, which further supported the theory that I’d made the appointment last night. Consuelo had an online booking system, I remembered suddenly.
Sometime after my confrontation with Collith in the alley, I’d scheduled an emergency therapy session.
My first instinct was to cancel it, but it was too late now. I wouldn’t even have time to shower. Muffling a curse, I leaned over and murmured an explanation to Damon, knowing the others would hear, too. As soon as I uttered the word therapist, my brother exuded relief. He didn’t utter a single protest when I got up.
Moving with slow reluctance, I walked over to the stairs. I shoved my feet into a pair of boots, removed my coat from one of the hooks, and pulled it on. Keys jangled in the right pocket.
“I guess I’ll see you later,” I called from the doorway, hoping one of them would give me an excuse not to go.
“Love you,” Damon replied without looking away from the TV. He said the words absently.
Finn. Finn would save me. I turned toward the fireplace. Matthew had fallen asleep against Finn’s stomach—none of us had bothered taking him to bed, since he was safer with the werewolf than he’d ever be in a crib—and the expression on my friend’s furry face said he wasn’t moving for the world. But as I stood there, his bright gaze dropped to my fingers, checking for the goblin ring. Reassured, Finn put his big head back down on the floor, closed his eyes, and heaved a contented sigh.
No one could be depended on these days. Sighing, I trudged down the stairs and out to the van.
Music exploded from the speakers, just how I liked it, but I didn’t hear it tonight. I was too nervous. I put Consuelo’s address into a GPS app and turned in the direction of Denver, my headlights beaming onto a frozen, empty road.
Then, in the blink of an eye, I was back in that pretty house, facing Consuelo across a pretty room. We sat in the same spots we’d occupied during our last session. I looked around at the beige walls, trickling fountain, and floral rug. There were also two plush couches and one oil painting of a meadow. A solitary figure stood in the middle of that meadow, more of a dark smear than a person.
“What would you like to talk about today?” Consuelo asked. She wore a button-down blouse and a knotted headwrap made out of cambaya fabric. Like last time, the human’s legs were crossed, and she’d rested a notepad against her knees.
I scratched my cheek, hesitating. “Aren’t you supposed to tell me what we talk about?”
“This is your therapy journey,” she countered. “You get to decide where it leads.”
I didn’t like that—it created too many possibilities. There was so much Consuelo didn’t know, and countless things I couldn’t tell her. Secrets I didn’t want to tell her. Sure, let’s talk about my parents’ brutal murders. Or how about the person I visit in my dreams every night? Oh, I know, can we explore the fact that I was tortured by a demon-possessed faerie for weeks, and I still haven’t really thought about it?
“I’ve been drinking,” I said quickly.
The therapist’s face didn’t change. “Are you getting drunk when you drink?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“Almost every night since I got home.”
“Why?”
“Actually, can we talk about something else, please?” I strove to phrase the question politely, but it came out sounding strained. As if there were someone sitting next to me, pressing their thumb into one of the bruises on my arm. Worried I’d offended her, I gave Consuelo a thin smile. “I know that I was the one to bring it up. Sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. How are things with your brother?” she asked me, throwing an invisible lifeline. But this was a question with a complicated answer, too.
“Better,” I answered after yet another pause. “He… he told me he loved me earlier. It was probably just a knee-jerk thing.”
“Those aren’t usually words people use freely,” the human remarked.
Her words felt like a pinch on my heart—hope. I didn’t know what to say, so Consuelo threw another lifeline. She asked a new question, and I answered it. Our conversation felt like someone forcing a fistful of secrets open, one by one, finger by finger.
Despite this, I forgot to watch the clock again. I only knew our time was up when Consuelo closed her notepad. “After our session today, I will be emailing you a list,” she told me. “Sexual assault support groups can be a life changing experience for many survivors.”
“Support groups?” I echoed. I shook my head. “No. That’s okay. I’m not interested in spilling my guts with an audience.”
“Many people find the idea intimidating,” Consuelo acknowledged, getting to her feet. “But everyone is there for the same reason. It can be healing, talking to others who’ve been through experiences like yours.”
“Interesting. Look, thanks for fitting me into your schedule. I know you made an exception for this.” I walked through the waiting room and into the winter night. Consuelo lingered in the doorway.
“I was glad to do it. Please reach out anytime,” she called. I waved, then dug out my keys.
The van was empty when I got in, but it didn’t stay that way long—I’d just pulled onto the highway when my senses were assailed by the smell of springtime. “You need to replace this repulsive little vehicle. It reeks of goblin,” a velvet voice said.
“I wondered when you were going to show up.” I looked over at Laurie, and in an instant I was very aware that I hadn’t even showered today. He wore a pinstriped suit, his hair artlessly tousled. A subtle, enticing cologne wafted through the small space.
Laurie leaned his temple against the headrest and gave me a faint smile. His eyes had the glaze of someone who’d had a cocktail or two at the business meeting. “I’ve been preoccupied since the opera.”
“Preoccupied with your campaign?” I asked. I heard the bite in my tone, and I wasn’t sure why it was there. Maybe Laurie hadn’t noticed.
Oh, he noticed. It was obvious in how he’d paused. I waited for Laurie to ask why I even cared, but he merely rolled down the window, just a crack, allowing enough air in that it rustled his perfect hair like ripples through a glassy lake. Thinking it would be like this for the rest of the drive, I let out a breath.
Then Laurie asked, “What were you doing out here?”
“Uh, I was—”
“Wait, sorry, you got a text from Lyari. She says, and I quote, ‘You’re smothering me.’ What did you do?” Laurie lowered my phone and looked at me with raised brows.
My lips twitched. “I asked her how she was.”
“Oh, well, then her annoyance is quite justified. So?”
“So, what?”
“Where were you tonight?” he repeated.
“I was at therapy,” I blurted. Even though I’d been intending to say something vague, the truth slipped out of me. I reminded myself that Laurie had been to Consuelo’s office before, so it wasn’t as if he didn’t know, anyway.
And the truth was, I already had enough choices to be ashamed of. Seeking help wouldn’t be one of them, not anymore.
As I waited for his response, Laurie peered through the windshield, tracking the progress of something in the sky. “Does your therapist know?”
“Know what?”
“What you are.”
“Oh. No, she doesn’t. Weirdly enough, that hasn’t really mattered. I guess humans and fallen angels aren’t as different as we’d like to believe.” I smiled faintly, amused at the thought.
The rings on Laurie’s fingers flashed as he changed the radio station, twisting the knob with his usual grace. He didn’t ask anything else about my therapy, and as the silence continued, relief weaved through the tangle of emotions in my chest, loosening them. I shifted in my seat and pressed down harder on the gas pedal. There wasn’t much to see beyond the windows, but the headlights made signs brighten every so often, and the skyline was a smear of somber colors.
It was strange, sitting in silence with Laurie. He wasn’t usually capable of it. After a few more seconds, I started to frown. Was something wrong? I glanced over at him, and in an instant, the tension left me again. It was obvious Laurie had gotten lost in thought—leaning on the headrest, his face slightly turned, he stared out at the night without expression.
There were a countless number of things he could’ve been thinking about, but I knew exactly who occupied Laurie’s mind. I knew, because it was the same for me.
“How is he?” I asked softly.
I saw Laurie’s head turn. I kept my eyes on the road, but I didn’t need to be looking at him to know he’d raised his eyebrows, creating the expression of pretend shock that made me want to hit something. Usually him.
“You’re asking about Collith’s well-being? Did Hell freeze over?” Laurie looked down at his feet as if he could see through the bottom of the car and into the other dimension.
I knew this was the part where I rolled my eyes. But then I heard Lensa’s voice, saw the worry in the pinched lines around her mouth as she told me, He acts like himself around you. An unexpected warmth filled my chest. “Just answer the question,” I said, pretending to be exasperated.
Laurie rolled his head against the back of the chair, facing forward, and gazed up at the waning moon. “He spends most of his time at the safe house,” he replied with a shrug. “He exercises. He reads. He broods. Very Collith-like things.”
I spoke without thinking. “Have you two…”
Though I caught myself, Laurie knew exactly what I’d been about to ask, of course. He smirked at me. “Have we… what?”
“Nothing. Never mind. It’s none of my business.” I hoped my face wasn’t as red as it felt. Driving. You should be concentrating on driving, Fortuna. I checked my mirrors with such intensity that I felt sixteen again, taking the exam for my license.
“Jealous?” he asked.
The old Fortuna would have lied. She would’ve had a retort or an insult ready, skilled as any faerie at dodging the truth. But I could feel another answer filling my throat, too. I didn’t let myself think about it, because if I did, I knew I would just talk myself out of it.
“Yes,” I said simply.
Laurie paused. If I weren’t so nervous, I would’ve laughed at the expression on his face. “I see,” he said eventually. “We need to rectify that. Now, I’m far too pretentious to ravage you in the backseat of a foul van, but if we use the Door at the Unseelie Court, I’d be glad to—”
“You know,” I interjected, “I haven’t heard from you lately. I’ve really enjoyed it.”
“To answer the question you so rudely asked,” Laurie started.
“I didn’t—”
“No, we haven’t fucked. For two reasons.” He began to tick them off on his fingers. “The first one is that Lensa, too, is residing at the safe house, along with a few others. Now that Belanor is awake, the palace is no longer a safe place for them, you see. We deviated from the plan the night of our escape, and their involvement could be discovered during the investigation. Anyway, the point is, fucking someone in a place that reeks like my sister and our friends would not be an experience I’d enjoy. And secondly, but perhaps more importantly, when you kill your ex’s mother, it effectively ends whatever potential there was to revive the relationship.”
“Are you done?” I asked lightly.
“Yes. Now, about the hotel room we’ll be reserving. I have a place in mind. Tell me, are you afraid of heights?”
“Laurie.” My voice was terse. The prince raised his eyebrows and waited for me to go on, as if he had no idea why I was annoyed. Anyone who didn’t know him might believe he was wholly unbothered. Forgetting my mortification, I gave Laurie a hard look from the corner of my eye before refocusing on the road. “You didn’t kill Naevys, okay? You did something reckless and impulsive that went horribly wrong.”
“You would know,” Laurie said, but there was no bite in the words. The light in his eyes was sad, the subtle tilt to his lips more rueful than mischievous.
“You’re right. I would know,” I replied. Silence rang through the small space. Humans always had a response at the ready. Humans avoided sitting in stillness. But as I’d recently pointed out to Laurie, we weren’t humans. My vulnerability floated all around, and we existed in it, breathing it in and out.
The van rolled over a pothole in the road, making both of us lurch in our seats. It brought the moment to an abrupt end. I cleared my throat. “Jesus. Who knew I’d be having two therapy sessions today? Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump that on you.”
Laurie smiled faintly, and it seemed as though he was about to answer when his eyes flicked downward. His voice was just a bit too casual as he questioned, “What is that?”
My stomach dropped. I followed his gaze and saw that my bruises were peeking out—leftovers from when that giant had sent me flying into a rock wall. I tugged my shirt back into place and shrugged, staying focused on the road. “I fell.”
“You didn’t even put effort into that lie. I can only assume that means I should keep asking until I get the truth.”
“You wouldn’t believe the truth.”
“Try me.”
“Fine.” I gripped the steering wheel tighter and resolved to keep my response shorter this time. “After my parents died, I felt scared and alone. While Damon and I were at our first foster home, I started dreaming about someone. A boy, who became my best friend. I named him Oliver. Dave and Maureen weren’t worried, at first—they thought I was just pretending. That it was a coping mechanism. But years went by and I was still talking about Ollie. Eventually I got smart enough to stop mentioning him. That didn’t make him fade, though. Even now, he’s still there every night I fall asleep.”
Here I paused, my attention snagged by thoughts of the Oliver I’d left only a few hours ago.
“None of this explains the bruises,” Laurie prompted.
“I was getting to that, damn it. Recently, Oliver discovered… memories. My memories, hidden in the furthest recesses of my mind. But they’re not easy to reach, because they’re guarded by things. Creatures, if you can call them that. Manifestations of the stories Mom used to tell me.”
“And you got those bruises facing one of them?” Laurie asked, his voice sharp. “They were on your body when you woke up?”
I looked at him sidelong, frowning. “Yes. Do you know something I don’t?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t keep it from you. Not about this. Those bruises must’ve been significant if they’re still so visible. Does Collith know? About the dreams?”
“He knows the basics. We haven’t exactly been on friendly terms, so I haven’t made him aware of recent developments.”
Laurie made a thoughtful sound. Then the exit for Granby appeared, and I turned on the blinker. It clicked into the silence.
“You don’t have to go back tonight, you know,” Laurie ventured. Surprised, I glanced over at him again. His bright eyes held mine, and they shone with sincerity now. “I saw the way you looked at Stone Hall. I hadn’t realized, until that moment, how little of the world you’ve experienced. It’s a big place, Fortuna, infinitely bigger than the darkness you’ve seen. Let me show it to you.”
Heat built between my legs, responding to the promise in his voice. I shook my head and let out a breath at the same time. “When you say things like that…”
“What? It makes this more difficult to deny? You’re fixated on Collith because you met him first,” Laurie said matter-of-factly. “Because I didn’t fall at your feet with unquestioning devotion.”
