Dying Dreams (Book 1 of Dying Dreams Trilogy) (8 page)

There was a knock at the door and she straightened up, her body warming in all the right places before he’d even set foot in the room. She knew she should be worried or scared. He’d pretty much told her she was a suspect in a murder, but when he’d been in the room, she’d felt safe for no reason she could explain.

Instead of Rice, though, it was Fulsom who walked in and sat down across from her. Liza slumped in her seat and all the parts of her that had warmed at the thought of Rice set up their own little pity parties. “Where’s Agent Rice?” Liza asked.

“That asshole?” Fulsom sneered. “He’s in a foul mood today. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable talking to me?”

“I’d rather talk to him. I like him better than you.”

Liza had expected Fulsom to get angry and she sort of wanted him to, because than maybe he’d send Rice back in. Not just because Rice was easy on the eyes, but because her gut insisted she could trust him, and she always listened to her gut. Her gut was less certain about Fulsom. “What have I done that’s so wrong?” he asked, with a grin.

“You asked me out when I was trying to talk to you about my dreams. You didn’t take me seriously at all.”

“You’d have been better off if no one had taken you seriously,” Fulsom muttered, without moving his mouth.

When Rice had told her to lie, Liza had figured he thought she was sounding like a crazy person and he was trying to protect her, but Fulsom’s words scared her. If both Rice and Fulsom were trying to protect her, there was something else going on. Something she didn’t want to even know about. Liza sighed. “Are you just going to stare at me all day, or are you going to ask me some questions?”

Fulsom grabbed Liza’s hand. She tried to pull away, but he was strong and his grip was firm. She couldn’t budge. “Where did you hear the name Louella?”

Liza started to answer, but then she heard Fulsom speak again, his voice low, his lips barely moving, “Don’t sign anything.” Liza just stared at Fulsom, hoping for more information. He tossed her hand away. “Hello, Earth to Liza. Where did you hear the name Louella?”

The door opened without a knock and a man and a woman in business suits stepped into the room. “We’ll take it from here, Agent Fulsom.”

They waited until Fulsom had left, then they sat, placing large briefcases on the table and snapping them open. “Miss Simmons, I am Agent Reynolds and this is my assistant Ernest Gardner. It has come to our attention,” Reynolds said. “That you have more than fifty percent fae blood in your veins and you have failed to register as a fae citizen. Could you explain why that is?” The woman had thick brown hair that fell in perfect waves, a professionally made-up face, and manicured nails. Liza was pretty sure her suit cost more than Liza’s monthly rent. She was giving Liza the stink eye, intending to intimidate her, but it didn’t work. Liza had attended one of the most prestigious private high schools and she had dealt with girls like Reynolds on a daily basis. Appearance could be bought, and Liza had learned a long time ago that a shiny veneer could hide all kinds of weaknesses. It was just a matter of finding out what Reynolds’ were.

“I have never
heard
the word fae before,” Liza lied, in her haughtiest tone. “I feel that I am being falsely accused, and I would like my lawyer to be brought in immediately.”

Reynolds smiled. “I’m afraid the phone lines are down, but if you’d like to wait, they say they’ll have them online again within the next twenty-four hours.”

Liza laughed and Reynolds flinched. “I called my lawyer before I was brought down here. If you pick your prissy ass up and walk down the hall to the main entrance, you will find him waiting.” Liza crossed her fingers under the table that Ellison had made it there. She felt like she’d been in that room for days, but they’d taken her phone and she didn’t wear a watch, so she couldn’t be sure.

Reynolds stiffened a bit, then glared at Gardner. He leapt to his feet and scurried out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.

“That’s an adorable tank-top,” the woman said, baring her teeth. “It looks like an Obrig. Where ever did you find it?”

When the government ended all manufacturing for non-essential items, clothes were made by hand, and the more skilled the seamstress, the more expensive and high-demand the article of clothing. Anita Obrig was one of the best tailors in the state. The silk tank-top Liza wore had been a gift from her aunt who had a lucrative job as an environmental enforcer, and was made by Abigail Denere another good tailor, but Liza didn’t think Miss Priss needed to know that. “I got it from the recycling station down the street. Five bucks on clearance. I was thrilled.”

Miss Priss sneered at her and Liza got a little lift from thinking of her as Miss Priss instead of Reynolds. They stared down until Gardner, or Mr. Scuttles, returned from the lobby with Ellison, who smiled and winked at Liza like everything was okay. Liza knew Ellison well enough to be able to tell that his cheer was manufactured.

Miss Priss’s eyes widened. “A human?” she asked, making the word sound crass.

Mr. Scuttles cleared his throat and said, in a squeaky voice, “The gentleman is familiar with Fae law and has taken a class in it. He has the appropriate clearance.”

Ellison pulled files from his briefcase, but he looked perfectly calm. “I’m sorry, but what’s going on here? Aren’t we
all
human?”

Miss Priss sniffed. “As I have explained, Miss Simmons is fae. The fae are not typically represented by humans. In fact, it is a violation of our bylaws to speak to a human about the fae or to reveal their existence to a human.”

Liza was pretty sure the fae they were talking about were the people who had tails and horns. “Wait, the fae are a secret? Seriously? You’ve got mermaids swimming in the ocean and washing up on the beach and you think their existence is a secret?”

Miss Priss didn’t deign to look at Liza and Scuttles’ cheeks were getting redder by the moment.

Ellison looked at the three of them, his eyes lingering a bit on Miss Priss, before he cleared his throat. “I had to achieve a level five security clearance to be permitted to take the class, Liza. The government considers anyone who speaks of the fae to humans without clearance to be a traitor.”

Liza looked at him, her eyes widening. “
You
think it’s a secret?”

Miss Priss almost rolled her eyes, but managed to avoid such an undignified expression. “Most humans don’t know about the fae because they don’t want to know. It is an easier secret to keep than you would expect.”

She wondered what they would think of Arty speaking so openly about what he was, but she let it go. “Okay, so these fae are a big government secret, but you say I’m one of them, so why don’t–”

“Don’t say another word, Liza,” Ellison said, all business now.

“Do you know what they’re talking about? Because unless you do, I’m not shutting up. I want to know what a fae is and why they think I’m one.”

“I was going to get to that,” Ellison said, through gritted teeth, his glare telling her to shut the hell up.

She shut the hell up.

Two hours later, after a lot of legalese and bargaining, she left the building with Ellison. “Wanna tell me what that was all about?” she asked as they walked back to the apartment. The sun was high in the sky, signaling midday and her tummy was rumbling, signaling lunch time.

He sighed. “You’re in deep shit, Liza, but it’s as much my fault as yours. When we figured out you could dream like that I should have warned you. I just never thought… and I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone… But I should have warned you. I’m sorry.”

“So tell me now.”

“I’ll tell you over lunch.”

She groaned and walked back to the apartment in silence, stomping her feet like a toddler. Once inside, she huffed and made herself a sandwich, slamming cabinet doors and flinging condiments, while Beauty yapped and bounced around her feet. Beauty was always happy to see her, even when she was angry. She knew she was overreacting, but she didn’t care. It was either act like a child or scream and pull her hair. She had to release the tension and frustration of the day somehow. Finally, she and Ellison sat down at the table with food. She dug in and motioned for him to start talking before she sat on him and began the tickle torture she knew would get him to talk.

He sighed and put down his sandwich without a bite. “The fae are another species, Liza. They lived in a land on another plane of reality. They have some complex name for it I can’t pronounce, but we humans call it Fairyland.”

Liza knew she was looking at him, her eyes wide and bugging out of her head, like she thought he was crazy. She knew she shouldn’t be looking at him that way. After all, she’d been talking to a guy with horns and hooves just last night, but she couldn’t help feeling that her best friend and roommate might have lost his mind.

Ellison, of course, knew exactly what she was thinking. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m not going to tell you why I won’t be seeing Marcy again.”

She swallowed hard and tried to return her eyes to their normal size and position, which was not as easy as one might think. She’d get them back to normal and then she’d think
Fairy fucking land
and they’d pop back out again. Ellison took her discomfort as an opportunity to stuff a few bites into his mouth.

“Okay,” she said, finally. “I’m good, continue.”

Ellison cleared his throat dramatically. “As I was saying, the fae mostly lived in Fairyland and those that lived here were the sort who weren’t welcome in their own land for one reason or another. Then the climate changed, people died, new diseases sprung up–”

“I’ve taken history class, El. Can you skip ahead to me being one of these people?”

Ellison glared at her and took another bite of his sandwich.

She sighed. He could be such a baby. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry I interrupted. Please continue your history lesson. I’m fascinated.”

Ellison took his time finishing his sandwich and then took a long, long drink of water. “Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, the fae in Fairyland were hit especially hard by the changing climate of the planet. Their land experienced drought like it never had before on one end and an ice age to conquer all ice ages on the other. Everything went wackadoo screwy and, on top of all that, the fae got sick with a new disease that affected them all no matter what species of fae they were. The ones who could flee Fairy did and, in their desperation, they came to our government, or the government of whatever country they happened to be closest to, for help.”

Ellison looked at her like he was expecting her to make a snide comment, but she restrained herself.

“Our government helped them, at least one government of another country killed them on sight, and no one knows what happened to the fae in other countries. Here they were allowed to immigrate and our scientists developed medicines that cured them of the disease. The powers that be felt humans had enough on our plates, what with the oceans rising and the climate changing, so they decided to keep the fae a secret. The fae can use magic to look like regular humans, if they don’t already, so it wasn’t such a hard secret to keep.”

“Sure it wasn’t,” she couldn’t help saying. Ellison shot her another glare, but she shrugged it off.

“Fairyland is no longer habitable for the large majority of the fae, and many of them have made lives for themselves here, marrying humans and settling down. Our government is a bit nervous about the fae, considering some of them are quite powerful and scary. Not to mention that the human populace might get a little ticked off if they learned their government kept the existence of fae hidden.”

“And I am one of these fae?”

“They claim you have banshee blood.”

“What’s a banshee?”

“I don’t actually know a whole lot about them. They can supposedly see when someone is going to die and they obviously dream about death if they touch a corpse.”

“A banshee?” she said again. “Is there someone I can talk to who can explain what I am? Can I look it up on the internet?”

Ellison looked nervous for the first time. “Well, you have fifty percent fae blood in your system, so–”

“No.” She gasped. “Holy shit.” She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket and started dialing.

“Sweetie, I really think we ought to discuss the ramifications of this, before–”

“Ooooh,” she said, her voice a growl. “Don’t sweetie me, you asshole. You knew didn’t you?”

“Liza, I–”

“I told you what I could do. You met my mother. You fucking knew and you didn’t—” The phone was still ringing, why wasn’t anyone picking up?

“No, Liza, it’s not normal for a mom to mention to her daughter’s boyfriend that masturbation can be dangerous if you have a heart problem, but I kind of thought you’d figure that out on your own. I was the one sweating bricks and getting my heart checked out. Not to mention how it feels to know how I’m going to die someday. I should have turned her in to be registered, but I didn’t. Really, if anyone should be angry here–”

“Hello,” Liza’s mother said, her voice gaspy like she’d run to get the phone. It must have rung ninety times. Whose phone did that? Maybe if she called home more than once every six months she’d know those things.

“Mom, I’ve just had a very interesting interrogation by some lovely government officials who seem to think I am a fucking banshee. Care to explain.”

The silence on the other end stretched out like a living thing. She could almost see her mom’s facial expressions change as she considered the best way to handle Liza. She’d always been one of those daughters. The kind parents feel they need to handle.

“Now, dear–”

“Does Becky know about this?”

“Now, Liza, Becky’s only sixteen.”

“I know how old my fucking sister is, Mom.” She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Are you a banshee? Because I hate to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure some government officials are going to be knocking on your door to find out why you aren’t registered.”

Her mom gasped and Liza felt a bit gratified to have finally broken through her calm reserve. “What did you tell them?”