Tooth and Nail (12 page)

“There are partial transformations, for those who need to bind a certain ability for whatever reason.”

I wanted to ask him whether I was going to look any different, but remembered that I lived with my mother all those years and she looked perfectly normal—perfectly human. “What’s going to happen here, exactly?”

“Your physical fae traits have been dormant your whole life. We’re going to awaken them. You’ll still be you—God help me.”

“Hey!”

“Your fae side will physically manifest. But Gemma, you have to go with it. Your human side will fight this. You have to let up, and let go. Whatever you feel, you have to go with it. Do you understand?”

“Not exactly.” I was starting to panic, though.

“The process of transformation will bring out everything underneath, including any emotions you’ve been hiding, fears you have, feelings you don’t express every day.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not the type to hold things inside.”

“Yeah, I’d noticed.” I think he smiled, and I caught myself regretting I wasn’t able to see it. “But we’re all deeper than our surfaces. You have to ride the wave. It won’t take too long.”

While we’d been talking, the lights had dimmed, and the air was starting to feel thick around me, like a blanket being wrapped around my head. I sat down on the floor, and the padded surface squished under me. “Will it hurt?” I asked, softly enough for Svein to possibly not hear me, because I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

My mind was melting. I rolled over, tucking my legs under me and curling my fingers.

“You’ll be fine,” he said more gently than I thought he could, “I’m right here.”

“Promise?” I couldn’t make my lips form the word properly, and it came out in a mumble. A part of me was mortified that I even asked him that, but that part was fading away with the rest of me. I closed my eyes.

“How could it hurt?” he said, his voice a lullaby. “You’re returning to yourself.

“Gemma,” he said, “You’ll emerge with wings.”

A burst of indigo surfaced in the middle of my mind, and spilled like dark, cool ink into every corner. It filled my ears, my eyes, my mouth, and dripped down the rest of me. My fingers moved in it, and my toes. I smiled, because it was a dream, a good one.

My mother tucked me in. My head pressed against the cool cotton of my pillow and my mother’s hands laced through my hair. She bent to kiss my forehead and I caught a whiff of her perfume and my nose tickled and twitched. My father was silhouetted in the doorway behind her, and he said, “I love you.” I couldn’t hear him but I didn’t have to. I was safe.

The inky fluid in and around me dissolved as a sunburst exploded in the center of my chest, sending powerful rays down my arms and legs. I walked across the stage to receive my college degree. I arrived for my first day at the polling office and walked straight through my cubicle wall to get to my desk. I won an amateur bout and threw my gloves up with pride. I punched a heavy bag and my fist blew through canvas and stuffing and came out the other side.

I pulled my arm back to strike again, but a ribbon of pink wound its way around my heart and squeezed softly. I dropped back into Avery’s embrace. I breathed with him. I inhaled his breath and his love and my love radiated out of my face in sparkles that danced in the air between us. I closed my eyes again but I still saw him smiling; I basked in the rosy warmth.

But the warmth turned hotter and hotter and suddenly it was bright red and it wasn’t in me—it was outside of me, jabbing at me, burning me. Avery’s loving gaze grew hard. “No,” I said, and he turned and walked away. “Avery, don’t go!” I cried, and when he looked back at me, his face was my father’s. “No!” I screamed, in a voice that tore out of my gut. Ripples ran up and down my back, pain blossoming from my shoulder blades. “Dad!” I clawed at my own skin, tearing at my shirt to get hold of my own anguish. “Dad!”

He didn’t see me, or he didn’t care. He left me and the red followed him out, giving way to black.

I collapsed, weak and spent.

Eventually, the green came in and carried me on soothing waves back into my body. I knew I was back, but I stayed there consciously in that moment, letting my heart beat my own way again.

When I opened my eyes, I discovered my head was cradled in Svein’s lap. And when I tried to sit up, I discovered I was without my shirt.

CHAPTER 8

"I
think I should be outraged,” I said, my tongue thick in my mouth, “but I don’t have the energy.” I pushed myself onto my knees and sat on my feet, wrapping an arm around my front.

“I was sure you’d have at least a couple of tattoos,” Svein commented. “A fire-breathing dragon, or a tiger in mid-leap.”

“Just give me my shirt.”

He handed it to me and it didn’t look like my black long-sleeved cotton shirt as much as a tattered scrap left over from a pissed-off pit bull’s tirade. “Turn around.”

He pushed himself to his feet and obeyed. “You ripped it off,” he said. “And you had a hard time coming back into reality, so I came in to pull you back. You needed an anchor of security.”

“I’m not sure you would have been my first choice for that job,” I said, trying to figure out which hole was for my head.

“I was your last connection with reality.”

“I think my last connection with reality was sometime yesterday,” I told him. “And anyway, I have a headache like someone slammed me with a two-by-four. I hope you knew what you were doing in that room.”

“I was only there to keep an eye on your emotional reactions. There was a team of people for the physical stuff.”

I stared daggers into his strong, broad back. “A team of people watched me rip off my shirt?”

“Butterfly agents. Up until now,” he said, “the Butterfly Room’s only been used by fae who need to bind one of their abilities for some personal reason, and then eventually to regain it. You were the first to ever undergo a complete awakening. We needed a team in case something went wrong.”

I wriggled into the tattered remains of my shirt, and realized I was still mostly out of it. I huffed with aggravation. “Well, then I hope
they
knew what they were doing.”

“All indications are normal,” he said and yanked his own black T-shirt off. He tossed it over his shoulder. I caught it and stared at it a moment, fighting the urge to hold it up to my nose before I pulled it over my head. As I pushed my left arm through, I caught a glimpse of my watch, and swore.

“I have to get out of here,” I said, hoisting myself to my feet. I swayed a little but managed to stay upright.

“Not a good idea,” Svein said, turning and hooking a thumb through his belt loop. Now that he was the one without a shirt, I nearly reconsidered his words, maybe just to linger a few minutes more…

“Are you doing that thing on me again?” I demanded, trying to remember what Reese said. “Glamour?”

“No,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up a bit. “I’m not. And what’s more, even if I was, you’re immune to it now. So whatever you’re thinking, it’s all you, sweetheart.”

I shook my head in disgust, but I wasn’t sure whether it was at him or at myself. “I have to leave,” I repeated.

“Again, not a good idea. You’re still weak, and you need to have your first training, to begin to learn control over your new capabilities.”

“I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow,” I said. I’d been here long enough, and I was emotionally wrung out. And Avery was actually going to make it home tonight early for a rare dinner together. I needed to pick up Thai food, head home, and put it on nice plates. Avery would know full well that I didn’t cook it, but neither one of us let that get in the way of a good meal.

“It can’t wait.”

“Well, it’s going to have to.” The door to the padded cell of the Butterfly Room was open now, so I went through it, pushed open the second door, and leaned against the armchair in the office. Svein followed me.

“Letting you leave now would be like handing you a loaded gun and sending you home without telling you how to not use it.”

“I know, I know. I have
powers
now.” I wiggled my fingers in front of my face. “Whatever they are, I’ll keep a lid on them until tomorrow.”

“You need to stay on an even keel,” he said. “No matter what your boyfriend says or does in the next 24 hours, you need to stay completely neutral.”

“Won’t be too hard. He doesn’t get on my nerves in an entire year as much as you have in the past two hours,” I told him. “And what do you know about my boyfriend anyway?”

“It’s my job to find things out,” he reminded me. “And I’m completely against you leaving right now.”

“Well, you’re not the boss of me.”

I put my hand on the doorknob and he grabbed my wrist. I glared at him.

“No extreme emotion tonight,” he said. “Good or bad. Just take it easy. Don’t watch a sad movie on TV, don’t argue with your mother on the phone, don’t talk or even think about anyone or anything that will affect you on any deep level. Just eat your dinner and go to sleep.”

“You told me in the Butterfly Room to go with my emotions, and now you’re telling me to squash them?” I tried to wrench my wrist out of his grip but Svein only tightened his fingers. “In case you’ve forgotten—and based on your nasty comments thus far, I’m sure you haven’t—I’m supposed to catch a bad guy. I need my anger to do that.”

“You’ll battle our threat out of necessity, not anger,” he said. “But that remains to be seen. Tonight, no emotion.”

I opened my mouth to speak but he interjected. “If you can’t do that,” he said, very softly, “then Avery McCormack will find out the hard way who Gemma Fae Cross really is. And your recklessness will not only have consequences on your love life, but it will have consequences for
all
of us.”

He released his hold on me but I didn’t move, a wave of fear rippling through my body, settling in my shoulder blades and heating up.

My secrets were piling one on top of another. Secrets that I needed to keep from everyone. Including Avery.

What had I done?

I spent my life emoting all over everyone I met. I held nothing in, and I was comfortable letting everyone know my opinions. Now I found that everything for me and for all the fae depended on my emotional control?

I had no idea how to control what I was now. But Svein had just said I had to. I had just become a different being physically, and I had to become a different being emotionally, and somehow this was supposed to be my destiny?

“What have I done?” I whispered.

My back itched and burned.

Oh, God. Avery. What could this to do his career? What would this do to us? What would this do to
me
?

“Fear,” Svein said quietly, “is the hardest to control. Fear and anger.”

Why couldn’t have I thought this through a little longer? My mother had asked me to wait before making any decisions. For thirty years I didn’t know I was fae. I couldn’t even think it over for a
day
? Two days? Gemma, going in swinging. As usual.

My shoulder blades spasmed and contracted back, once, twice.

“What’s happening to me?” I demanded.

“You’re tough, Gemma,” he said, putting his hands on both my shoulders. “Control the fear. Don’t fight it. Accept it.”

I tried, I really did. But I could only grit my teeth and tighten my jaw and push against my frightening thoughts. Fighting was the only way I knew to suppress an emotion, and this time, I realized I was going to lose.

My shoulders stretched back, as if someone pulled me hard from behind, and I hit the wall.

This time, Svein was the one who swore. He pushed the desk up against one wall and the armchair against another wall and stood on it, giving me all the floor space the tiny room would allow.

I had no time to turn and see what pulled me. My back ripped open. I screamed at the excruciating pain, but by the end of my scream, it was over. I was heavier, leaning back, standing on my toes in an effort to stay upright, and I twisted my head to look behind me.

Wings.

Huge, gossamer wings. Silky and pale pink and as delicate as spider webs. Yet they were powerful, still threatening to topple me.

I didn’t pass out. I wanted to. I wanted to think this should have shocked me but apparently my mind
had
transformed along with my body.

In the Butterfly Room.
You’ll emerge with wings …

Could I move them? I wiggled my fingers first. How did I wiggle my fingers? With intention, and my brain understood, and my fingers wiggled.

Intention.
I’ll just move my wings
, I thought. Close them, and open them.

I
did
.

In the cramped room, my right wing brushed the wall when it reopened, and I felt it. I
felt
it.

Wings!

“Looks like both of us have lost our shirts now,” Svein said, but he didn’t appear angry to see the back of his T-shirt, on me, torn completely through. Instead, he grinned.

I laughed out a sob, and drew in a breath. I closed my wings. I opened them. And I couldn’t stop laughing.

>=<

I stumbled into the kitchen, my hands full of takeout cartons. Maybe I went a little overboard on the food, but in my tardiness and my guilt, I figured the more food I bought, the more Avery and I could linger over eating and increase our time together.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said, dumping everything on the counter. I considered making up an excuse, but the thing about Avery was that he wouldn’t ask for one.

Which, I realized, was going to make it a lot easier to lie to him.

I felt sick inside.

“How was your day?” I asked, opening the overhead cabinet to find our “good” dishes. The good dishes were the ones with a black-and-purple flowered border. The “regular” dishes were plain white. Both sets cost about the same.

“My day,” Avery said. He took silverware out of its drawer and the dishes out of my hands, kissed my lips, and began to set the table. “Today was a door-to-door day. I drank a cup of tea at each of the first twenty homes, and had to use the bathroom at the next twenty. I had an informal chat with the League of Women Voters that went pretty well, and I worked on a Rotary Club luncheon speech for next week. Then, while I was waiting for you, I updated my blog to answer voters’ questions. I’m not completely sure why it’s important to some voters if I have a pet and what my astrological sign is, but I did answer everything.”