Chapter Text
“Mirrors never lie.”
Michael Jones, alone for the first time since he woke up that morning, stared into his own hanging just above the worn, splintered desk across from his bed. The mirror was oval in shape, settled in a brass base and Michael could just make out various smudges that had been missed after it had last been cleaned. The sunlight shining behind him created a brightly lit backdrop and for a moment, he thought, he caught a glimpse of his sharpened, dark brown eyes the color of fresh dirt after a rainstorm. His teeth gave hint of a sharpened point at the ends, and then just as quickly as it came, the mirror only showed normal, square-shaped teeth. The sun accented the natural reds in his curly locks and his freckles dotted his cheeks, giving him that natural boyish charm.
“Mirrors never lie.”
He moved away from the mirror to the window, glancing outside at the cars sputtering down the road, the people walking quickly across the streets or leisurely down the sidewalks. Across the street from his room was the biggest park in the city, trees standing guard like soldiers all around it. He could hear faint laughter from children, the enthusiastic barking from dogs as their owners tossed objects for them to retrieve, and… if he closed his eyes and focused, he could hear it.
There. Underneath the noise and the distractions that filled his senses, radiating from one particular spot deep within Mason Park, was a tinkling sound that left him with longing in his heart and a bitter taste in his mouth.
Deep within, mystifying humans for centuries and causing the disappearance of thousands of their kind, a circle of solid stones and wildflowers in colors that confused artists since Da Vinci’s time, as they were unable to recreate these vivid colors no matter how hard they tried, lay next to the park’s oldest tree. There were theories of course, as to what it may be. Realists argued that it was a natural occurrence, pulling out facts and statistics and photos. Those with a more imaginative mind, however, argued for the existence of mythical creatures called Fae, short for faeries.
Michael knew that circle. He knew that circle well. The tinkling grew louder the more he thought about it and he ran his tongue along the ends of his teeth, hissing as a particularly sharp one pricked his tongue. He turned back to the mirror, away from the window, and sharply inhaled at his appearance.
Staring back at him was a creature only ever seen in drawings, movies, and nightmares. Meeting them may seem like a dream, but all it took was one whispered word, one gaze into their sharpened, luring eyes, and you fell into a nightmare you would never escape.
“Mirrors never lie.”
Michael had always been fascinated with the human world. While his mother and many of his friends scolded him for this, wanting him to act on his fae instincts like them, there was just an attraction to this… this chaotic world that he could not deny was there. Whenever he spoke of electricity or motorcycles tension would fill the room he was in, others would mutter at how his mother should have eaten him at birth instead of pleading for his life with the Queen.
Being half human living amongst full blood faeries was something he never got used to.
The way his mother told him, she had gone to the human world on one of her nightly assignments, charged with bringing back young, handsome (for a human, anyway) men. Even though faeries never held permanent romantic relationships with one another, his mother was one of the most beautiful faeries in their realm, sought after when it came time for repopulation. When she wasn’t glamourized, her hair was a beautiful, smooth, rich brown, rippling at the end just like waves when the moon was full. Her skin was smooth, porcelain, with a green tint that was easy to hide when she ventured out. Eyes like emeralds with swirls of white around the pupil. Pointed teeth, ears, sharp nails, and a musical voice, all physical traits full blooded faeries carried.
She ventured out, glamourizing the less… subtle aspects of her appearance, and brought back one man - Michael’s father. They returned through the fairy ring and, after he tasted the delicious nectar he was offered, he was no longer allowed to leave. He was trapped forever in the realm with the frighteningly beautiful creatures he had read about in stories.
On the one night every hundred years that faeries were allowed to mate, it was said that the females would feel a pull towards the male they were destined to mate with, and unbeknownst to the rest, her partner that night was the human she had brought back from before. There was a sacred law against interrupting during this time, so while the Queen desperately wanted to put a stop to it, she was forbidden to.
Months later, Michael was born, and immediately all of the faeries could see that he would be different. His skin bore no green tint, his eyes weren’t green, but brown like his father’s, though piercing and not dull like human eyes, didn’t hold the intensity that a full blooded faerie’s would. It was as though there was a veil clouding his appearance, as his features resembled that of his mother’s, but they were hazy. The Queen was proud of all of her children, especially newborns, but she refused to hold him, instead asking his mother what she would call him.
“Mogar,” she responded, looking down at her son with worried but happy eyes. “His name will be Mogar.”
“A strong name,” the Queen replied, her back turned to where mother and son were laying. “Pity he will never live up to it.”
“With all due respect, your majesty, my son will be just as strong as me, as any of us. He still has faerie blood that runs through his veins,” she argued, mindful that her tone didn’t come across as accusing.
“Half faerie.” The Queen faced her once more and pointed at the baby clutched to her chest. “He is only half faerie; the other half is tainted by human blood, something that will certainly keep him from living up to his full potential. He will always be drawn to the human world, fascinated with their primitive, savage ways.” She twisted her face in disgust.
“You don’t think what we do is savage?” his mother asked.
“We do what we do because of what we are, Gwendolina. They do what they do because they can,” the Queen spat, curling her lip into a sneer. “Murdering each other, harming their women, children, giving no care at all for their own lives. We murder no-one. The men and women we take live the rest of their existence in bliss, with us.”
“As slaves, or pets,” Gwendolina emphasized. “They are only in a state of bliss because of our food and drink. It is not permanent, it wears off, and once it does they see what we are and they are terrified. You can see it in their eyes.”
“But we aren’t harming them,” she reiterated. “We don’t lay a finger on them… although in your case I guess you were the one who lay more than a finger on him.” Gwendolina jerked back as though she had been slapped. In a way, she supposed, she had. The Queen crossed to the doorway. “Both of you are forbidden from travelling to the human world. You and… that mistake.”
“But I’m the best at bringing back the men!” Her voiced raised and she noticed Mogar stirring, having been woken by the noise. “Without me, you wouldn’t have half of your servants!”
The Queen left the room, the door shutting behind her. Mogar opened his eyes and stared at his mother, cooing happily as he looked into her shining eyes. He reached up and grabbed a small lock of her hair, tugging gently. “You are not a mistake,” she whispered gently, kissing his forehead. “You’re perfect, and you’re mine.”
A knock on his door brought him out of his stupor and away from the mirror. He crossed the room and opened it, finding his boss on the other side.
“So were you going to work today or am I going to have to serve all of these fuckers by myself?” Ryan Haywood asked, a smirk on his face. Ryan owned the cafe that Michael was staying above. It had been chance, really, that he had found this place. After being kicked out by the Queen, told scathingly that if he wanted to visit the human world so much he may as well live there, Michael had wandered around town until the sun was rising over the horizon, filling the sky with deep reds and yellows. He stumbled across a tall building with the sign “Haywood Cafe” across the top and noticed the “help wanted” sign in the window. He walked in and was greeted by a sleepy Ryan Haywood behind the counter. After inquiring about the help wanted sign, the two chatted and suddenly he had a job. After mentioning that he currently had no place to stay - “mom kicked me out” - Ryan offered the one bedroom place above the cafe for him to use.
Ryan had shown him how to use the cash register, how to fix coffee, and how to bus the tables and wash the dishes. The cafe only became busy around lunch time and early evening, so Michael usually only had two or three customers to wait on. There was a few times where he waited on faeries, but thankfully he used the small amount of glamour he had to make himself unrecognizable to them. He wanted to stop them from leaving with unsuspecting, young college students, but that wasn’t his home anymore.
So he would quietly avert his gaze and finish wiping down tables, clearing away dishes, and mopping up spilled coffee and tea. He could feel the invisible waves rolling off of them, concealing their true form and knew that those women and men were goners. They would disappear, and no one would ever even notice, not even their families. It was as though they had never existed.
Once, one of his friends had entered the cafe, no doubt having heard that it was the prime place to pick up humans to bring back to their Queen. Michael had his back turned but the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he was alerted to the faerie presence. Faeries always smelled earthy, as though they had been neck-deep in fresh soil all day, and when the scent of dirt overpowered the fresh pot of coffee Ryan was brewing, Michael knew. He turned subtly to greet the newcomer, but the words never left his lips as he saw who it was.
“Mogar?” the faerie asked incredulously, a grin on his face. Michael knew Ryan was listening so he shook his head slowly in an attempt to get the faerie to shut the fuck up.
“The name’s Michael,” he responded in a tone that said now is not the time or place, shut the fuck up, man.
“Oh, right. Michael,” he snickered. He walked over to him and stood, watching as Michael placed dirty dishes in a bin. The man lowered his voice. “I thought they were joking when they said the Queen banished you.”
“Faeries can’t lie, dumbass,” Michael hissed. “So no, obviously they weren’t joking. What are you doing here, Crion?”
Crion held up his hands. “No need for the hostility. You know why I’m here.” His forest green eyes flashed momentarily through his glamour before returning back to their dull state. He picked up a half-empty cup of coffee and sniffed, jerking back with disgust. “How can you stand human food, man? It smells horrid.”
“Being half human has its advantages,” Michael said sarcastically, snatching the cup away and placing it in the bin. “Go somewhere else, Crion. I couldn’t say anything about the faeries that came in here a few days ago but I can sure as hell say something to you. The people in here are off limits to you.”
His eyes flashed, the dull green sharpening quickly into a cold, frostbitten green as Michael’s words registered with him. The smirk present on his face turned into a sneer and his hand, now clawed, grabbed Michael’s arm as he turned away. “I came in here for one purpose, and that wasn’t to be told what to do by you, a stupid half-human. Now I suggest you walk away and leave me be, Mogar, before something happens to you. Got it?”
Michael swallowed nervously but wasn’t about to back down. This was a childhood friend; they had played together since they were small, they knew each other like the backs of their hands. “Crion…”
“Hey, asshole,” a voice shouted from behind him. Crion turned and gunfire exploded in the store, sending its few customers running for cover. Michael dropped the bin and ran behind the counter where Ryan was hiding. Ryan, however, didn’t look panicked like Michael thought he should. He looked… annoyed.
The noise stopped and a silence filled the shop. Michael peeked out from behind the counter, noticing a man with sleeve tattoos, black hair and a mustache that curled on both ends standing over Crion’s body. He stared down at him with disgust, giving his leg a swift kick before stepping over it and to the counter. Ryan had stood up again at this point and rolled his eyes at the man.
“You know how I feel about you killing these things in my cafe, Geoff,” he drawled. “Couldn’t you have at least lured it outside?” Geoff snickered at Ryan, unfazed.
“Hey, if we want to make a statement to these bastards, to let them know that we are protecting our own people, might as well make a public execution, eh?” Geoff laughed. He turned around at the sound of the door opening. “Besides, Gavin spilled something in the car, otherwise I would have used him for bait like I always do.”
“Oi, it’s not my fault that you left a half empty red bull can in the cup holder, you mong,” an accented voice squawked. “You handled yourself well, anyway; you didn’t need me.” Ryan finally noticed that Michael was still hidden and he tugged on the back of his shirt.
“Stand up, Michael. It’s just Geoff and Gavin, they’re not going to hurt you,” Ryan smiled encouragingly. Michael stood shakily, his eyes still focused on Crion’s dead body. The empty shells were scattered all on the floor, glinting silver with the sunlight and the light fixtures above. Steel bullets, Michael thought. The deadliest metal to faeries. Son of a bitch.
“Was that thing trying to lure you?” asked Geoff, walking over to Michael. He saw Geoff search his eyes, looking for any signs of a trance still lingering. Of course there wouldn’t be, but he didn’t need Geoff to know that.
“Y… yeah, yeah he was,” Michael stuttered, playing innocent. “What was that thing anyway?”
“That,” Geoff said, replacing the gun into the holster strapped to the waistband of his jeans, “was a faerie, a creature so cunning that all it takes is one look into their eyes and you fucking disappear, never to be heard from again.”
“The worst part is, you disappear and it’s like you never existed in the first place. No one remembers who you are,” Gavin added, glancing at Crion. “It’s some dark magic they use, stealing humans to use for god knows what purpose.” He glanced back at Michael. “You’ve never heard of them?”
Only every fucking day of my entire existence. Michael opened his mouth to reply that he had only read about them in storybooks, that his mother would tell him tales involving these creatures to get him to behave when he was young, but there was a burning suddenly at the back of his throat as he began to speak. He coughed violently as the burning seared all the way to his tongue.
“You’re half human, Mogar, and that part of you allows you to lie sometimes,” his mother explained as she reprimanded him for playing too roughly with some of his friends, injuring Crion in the process. When he was confronted about it, the lie rolled off his tongue so easily as he pointed his finger at another friend, fearful of getting into trouble. All of the faeries in range exchanged shocked glances. “But you must strive to be truthful every waking moment of the day, son.”
“Why, mother?” he asked, his voice a rough tinkling to his own ears. She smiled sorrowfully.
“You could get into a lot of trouble, and I want to protect you.” She pulled him into a hug. “Promise me you will never lie.”
“I promise, mother,” he responded into her ear, the scent of leaves and sap filling his nostrils.
“Yeah, I’ve heard of them,” he answered truthfully, but stopped there. The burning sensation lingered, but the pain faded away. “Never seen one in person, though.” He braced for the burning but it didn’t return. I’m really fucking tired of this faerie truth bullshit picking and choosing when it wants to fucking scald my vocal chords.
Geoff walked over and lifted up Crion’s eye lids. His eyes were still the color of frost on grass. “They have green eyes - every shade you can think of, and maybe more that you can’t. They’re very attractive and use what they call ‘glamour’ to blend in with humans. It changes their appearance to hide their sharp teeth, hypnotic eyes and green-tinted skin. They lure humans back to their realm, though like Gavin said, we don’t know what they do with them. Experiment, eat, torture. Every possibility has been theorized, but nothing’s been proven. If they die in nature - in a park, forest, anywhere with grass and trees, basically - they become part of the earth. They grow into a tree, flower, something natural. If they don’t,” Geoff took out a lighter, “they stay like this unless you burn the son of a bitch.”
“Geoff, not in my shop,” Ryan deadpanned. “Here, I’ll help you carry it out to the truck and then you may dispose of it wherever you please.”
“It was one little fire,” Geoff muttered, grabbing the legs while Ryan carried the head and shoulders.
“Yeah, and that “one little fire” nearly burned down my house,” Ryan retorted, rolling his eyes. “We’ll be back in a minute, Michael. Gavin, be nice to him, he’s my best worker.”
“I’m your only worker, Ryan,” Michael joked. “Mostly because you’re too cheap to hire anybody else.”
“Well I can count on you to come into work when you’re supposed to!”
“Because I live fucking right above the cafe!” He lifted his hands to the ceiling. “It’s not like I can climb out the window and hang on the ledge whenever you come upstairs to make sure I’m awake.”
Ryan opened his mouth to fire off a retort but Geoff’s struggling grunts caused him to momentarily forget Michael’s cheek and the two men exited the cafe. Michael flipped Ryan off when he wasn’t looking before turning towards the mess Geoff made. “Just great, now I have to clean this shit up,” he muttered, beginning to pick up chairs and dishes that fell to the ground with the spewing of bullets. The invisible current that ran over his skin, glamourizing the few faerie aspects of his appearance, no matter how small, could still be felt if Michael really concentrated, and he sighed with relief. Seeing as he just witnessed his childhood friend’s murder right in front of him, he couldn’t afford to let his guard down one bit unless he wanted to go next.
He almost forgot Gavin was still in the room until another hand reached for the broken coffee mug by his foot. “Here you go, mate. Thought I ought to help since, you know, it’s our fault you have so much to clean up,” he laughed sheepishly.
“Thanks,” Michael said, looking up and into the face belonging to the hand. Blue eyes - no, green, no… dark blue eyes with flecks of green woven in them - met his own deep brown ones. For a moment, Michael was mesmerized by them, as though Gavin held him in a trance. He shook his head and took the cup, throwing it in the bin on the floor and hurrying off to the back. Once he was safely out of Gavin’s sight he let out a breath and slammed the bin on the counter. The image of Gavin’s eyes danced in his head and Michael could only marvel at how appealing they were to look at, how the accented voice played like music to his ears, sweeter than anything he ever heard in his realm.
I am so fucked.
Michael hid in the back of the cafe until after Geoff and Gavin had left, shouting a well worn excuse of not feeling well, but it was nice to meet them too. Everything was overwhelming: Crion’s murder, Gavin’s looks, Geoff’s silver bullets, Ryan’s nonchalant attitude of faeries being slaughtered right in front of him. His nerves and anxiety made it difficult to focus on the simple, mundane task of washing dishes and tossing broken ones in the trash, let alone keep up his glamour properly. When Ryan entered the back, signaling that he had closed shop for the day - “I think customers can wait for their caffeine fix until tomorrow” - Michael clutched his stomach, looking at the floor so Ryan couldn’t see that his eyes were different and his teeth were sharper than normal, muttered something about “bad lunch,” even though he had barely eaten anything all day, and fled to the safety of his bedroom.
He had so many questions as he slammed his door shut, standing once again in front of the mirror. How did Ryan know that Crion was a faerie when his back was turned the entire time? How convenient was it that Geoff showed up at just the right moment? “Breathe, Michael, breathe,” he gasped, shaking hands clutching the worn wooden desk. A prick to his finger caused him to jerk his hand away, hissing in pain. A splinter was lodged in his finger. It was funny, really, that the thing that faeries lived around could cause him so much pain. He stared at his reflection as he dug out the splinter.
He would never really fit in any world or realm, even if he wanted to. He knew that. He had to keep up a constant facade in the human world or risk entering through the faerie ring and facing the wrath of the Queen. She had the capability to do horrible things to him, he knew, and he was fucking terrified. He clenched his hands into fists. His own mother didn’t speak up on his behalf when he was banished. Although he knew her reasoning, it still stung. She fought for his birth, fought for his life, but she wouldn’t fight for him to stay.
“Maybe she was just protecting you,” he muttered to his mirror self. “She thought you would have an easier life here. It doesn’t take much to pass for human.” His reflection blinked, eyes flickering like the sharpening feature on a photo was being toggled. Dull brown, damp earth brown, dull brown, damp earth brown. Sharp teeth, square teeth.
Mirrors never lie.
That was five months ago.
Not many things have changed, really. He still worked for Ryan, though thankfully he didn’t witness any faerie killings (first hand, anyway.) Ryan finally told him how Geoff had arrived so quickly to the shop; apparently he was texting the man while his back was turned. He noticed Crion walk up to him and thought he was trying to lure him. Though Ryan did what he did to protect Michael, he couldn’t help but feel a little bitter towards the man. After all, Crion was his friend.
Still, Michael was just glad to be alive. There had been an almost slip up a few weeks ago. He and Ryan had gone out for drinks after work and met up with Geoff, Gavin, and their friends Jack and Ray. Well, the others drank, but Ray just nursed his Dr. Pepper while his friends consumed shots and mixed drinks, laughing constantly over stories and inside jokes that Michael wasn’t aware of. He didn’t feel left out though, as Jack would make sure to explain stories and people enough that Michael had some clue as to what was going on.
Ray had innocently asked Michael about the faerie incident those five months ago, which he had tried to push to the back of his mind but the alcohol seemed to bring forward those memories with a vengeance. “It was pretty scary, actually,” Michael admitted, nursing his third - or was it fourth? - drink, refusing yet another shot that Gavin offered him. Though he was repulsed at the taste alcohol left in his mouth - he had the sneaking suspicion that even if he was fully human he wouldn’t really enjoy the taste - he enjoyed the brief escape it gave him and learned what his limit was early on. He was feeling a slight buzz, he had already taken off his jacket earlier when his cheeks felt flushed and the temperature in the bar raised a few degrees.
He felt the presence of quite a few Fae in the bar, though the alcohol was clouding his senses so he couldn’t exactly pinpoint the difference between a human and a faerie who had been shrouded in glamour. He felt good, loose, happy. It was only when Ray asked if something was wrong with his eyes that he realized he could no longer feel that invisible current running over his skin. He touched his tongue to his teeth and pulled it back, feeling the all too familiar point. He excused himself and ran outside, leaving his drink on the table and pushing himself through groups of people who were standing near the entrance.
The brisk night air hit him in the face, awaking his senses and defogging his brain almost immediately. He still felt drunk, but his mind was starting to clear like the sun peeking through the clouds after a big storm. He was able to grasp his glamouring ability and throw it back on, feeling the comforting current once more. The door flew open and Gavin appeared, looking at Michael doubled over on the sidewalk.
“Are you okay, Michael? You ran out awfully fast. Did you get sick?” the Brit asked, concerned. He walked over to him and rubbed his back. Michael was sick, but not from the alcohol. How had he been so stupid? He knew better than to let his guard down, especially whenever he went out drinking. He thought he had been carefully calculating how much he had to drink, knowing after a certain point when to stop, wanting to avoid a scene like this. He had just been having so much damn fun that he hadn’t realized until he was almost caught.
“I’m fine, Gav, thanks,” he managed weakly, taking in deep gulps of the cool air before he trusted himself to speak more. “Just… drank more than I thought. It sure becomes a blur when you’re having fun, you know?” Gavin chuckled softly and pulled Michael over to a small table outside of the bar. The two sat down, Gavin still eyeing Michael as though he may puke any moment. Gavin hated watching somebody throw up, well he hated anything wet and mushy that shouldn’t be really. Michael found this out when Gavin had challenged him to a competition of who could consume the most donuts in five minutes (Michael won.)
Aside from the streetlights and the neon signs from the buildings around them, the sky was beautiful and clear, stars peppering the black background. His mom loved the stars, almost all faeries did. Clear skies, full moons, all of it made them feel more at peace. Michael was so busy staring at the sky that he didn’t even register that Gavin had spoken. “I’m sorry, I zoned out. What’s up?”
“I said,” Gavin laughed, “I’m glad I met you.” Michael’s heart fluttered. Stop that, he mentally scolded himself. “I mean don’t get me wrong, Geoff’s an amazing person and I’m glad I have him - and the others - around, but you’re… different. In a good way,” he rushed to reassure Michael when he gave him a weird look.
“I’m just any other person,” he responded, seemingly unaffected by Gavin’s heartfelt admission. “I work, I live in an apartment, I go out and have fun just like any of you. Although, I don’t go around killing things, but three out of four things isn’t bad.”
“You know what I mean, you donut. We just get along really well. Usually people have already told me to bugger off by now because, in case you weren’t aware, I can be an annoying piece of shit sometimes,” Gavin joked, causing Michael to grin.
“Oh I know,” Michael teased. “I’m just used to you, I guess. I mean don’t get me wrong, you do annoy the living hell out of me, but I give it right back to you, so we’re even.” The two were silent for a few minutes, listening to the laughter of drunken people leaving the bar, cars as they roared down the narrow streets, the faint echo of the bass-heavy music from inside.
“Geoff and I were going to ask you tomorrow, but I figure now’s a good time as any. Geoff has a spare bedroom in his house and it’s been empty for a while. We were going to ask you if you’d like to move in?” Gavin spoke this to his hands, not wanting to look Michael in the eye. Was he nervous? “I mean you don’t have to, I know you’ve got your space above Ryan’s cafe, which is fine, but we thought you might want more space, an actual house to live in, and you’d be living with me and we could hang out more and play video games and-”
“Gavin shut the fuck up,” Michael said, reaching over to slap a chilly hand over the Brit’s mouth. “Yes, I’d love to move in with you guys.” Gavin’s eyes lit up like fireworks and his grin overtook most of his face, it was almost comical to look at.
“You will?” he shrieked, moving from his seat to dive into Michael’s lap and immediately falling on the ground as Michael moved out of the way at the last second. “Micoo!”
“Micoo!” a voice taunted as the other four exited the bar just in time to see Gavin’s acrobatic display. Geoff giggled at Gavin’s pouting face as he lay on the ground. “I see you asked him already, even though I fucking told you to wait.”
Gavin grinned up at the older man. “Alcohol makes me do weird things, Geoff. You should know this by now.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh you mean the time I came home from the grocery store to find you dancing naked with your cat in the living room?” Michael bit his lip to keep a bark of laughter from escaping him. “Or the time I caught you watching Titanic and you bawled like a fucking baby?” Don’t laugh, Michael, don’t laugh Michael, don’t…
“What about the time you and Geoff were tracking a faerie and it happened to come in the cafe - this was before you were hired, Michael - and Gavin was fucking drunk off his ass and the thing was so confused because it seemed like you were trying to lure it instead of the other way around?” Ryan added, pointing at Gavin who had turned the brightest shade of red Michael had ever seen.
“What about-”
“GUYS!” Ray shouted amidst the squabbling men. Each murmured an apology while Geoff just rolled his eyes.
“We’ll come by and get your stuff tomorrow, Michael. I need to take drunk boy here home,” Geoff told Michael, picking Gavin up off the ground and pulling him towards their car.
“See you tomorrow!” Gavin called to Michael, waving like an excited child who just met their hero. Jack and Ray left with their goodbyes leaving just Ryan and Michael at the bar.
“You ready to go?” Ryan asked, spinning his keys on his finger. Michael opened his mouth to respond when he caught a flash of red in his peripheral. He turned his head sharply, the scent of earth filling his nostrils, and caught sight of a woman - at least he thought it was a woman - walking quickly in the direction of Mason park where his former home was located. “Michael?”
Michael shook his head and looked at Ryan, who was staring at him quizzically. He waved him towards the car. “You go ahead, I’ll be right behind you. I think I’ll walk home, you know. Fresh air and all that.”
Ryan just stared. “Are you still drunk?” Michael rolled his eyes, but said nothing. His mind became clear after his and Gavin’s discussion and after seeing the mysteriously familiar red head.
“I’m fine, just go. I won’t be long,” he reassured the man, giving him a genuine smile. Ryan held his gaze for a moment longer before shrugging and walking towards their car.
“Hurry up,” he called over his shoulder. “If you’re not back in twenty minutes I’m sending Geoff after you.” Meaning if I’m not back in twenty minutes his initial thought is that I got lured by faeries.
Michael began his trek across the street, walking the familiar path to the iron gates that stood along the perimeter of the park and admiring the towering trees that stood guarding its precious secrets inside. The gates had long since held the story that once you were inside the park, they would protect all inside from any faeries attempting to penetrate the gates.
It was only recently that those stories were proven false, and it only took the disappearance of nearly three hundred humans to prove it. The iron gates were rusty, and a jagged sign reading Mason Park connected to either side of the entrance, proclaiming proudly for everyone to see. Streetlights gave minimal light inside but the moon shone proudly, giving those lingering inside enough light to find their way out. Drunken couples, homeless, and shady characters all called Mason Park home at one point or another.
Once inside, Michael felt the familiar tug deep within and heard the seductive tinkling that only faeries could hear when close to their home. He ignored it, catching a flash of red up ahead and quickening his pace. A low humming filled the air. It gradually became louder as Michael got closer to the woman; he stopped abruptly when she was a few feet ahead of him, standing by the fairy circle. Her skin held a green tint, her nails were sharp and her hair glowed like fire.
“I know you followed me,” the woman spoke, her voice as sharp as her nails. Wait a minute… “You weren’t even supposed to see me.” I know that voice…
“Lillie?”
The redheaded fae turned, her eyes shining like emeralds in sunlight, and smiled at Michael with closed lips. Michael always loved her fiery hair, knowing that it was rare for any faerie to be born with a hair color other than a variation of brown. He never knew exactly what caused her hair to be that color, but he had a few theories. “I go by Lindsay in this world, but yes, it’s me.”
“What are you doing here? Are you on assignment?” he asked one of his oldest friends. Lindsay and Michael had been friends ever since they were younger. She was his friend before even Crion was. Their mothers were good friends and it was only fitting that their children should be, too. Michael remembered hearing his mother talk to Lindsay’s about how, when it came time to mate, that she would be thrilled if Lindsay chose him.
She sighed and walking towards Michael, stopping just shy in front of him. He always thought she was beautiful, even for a faerie. “Yes and no,” she responded. “Your mother sent me.” She glanced around and lowered her voice. “She wanted me to check up on you, and when the Queen sent me out I thought it was the perfect opportunity.”
“Does she even miss me at all?” Michael finally inquired, eyes lingering on the faerie circle yards from where they were standing. Lindsay’s eyes softened as she placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder, squeezing it sympathetically.
“Of course she does,” she said softly. “But you know no one can argue with the Queen, no matter how much she loves you.”
“Lindsay I got banished from the only home I had ever known all because I’m half human, something I can’t even control!” Michael raised his voice, startling the fae in front of him. “And when I was summoned in front of the entire court, in front of our Queen, and she told me I was banished? My mother did nothing. She stood there and let the Queen insult me and tell me how inferior I was compared to all of you because I have human blood in my veins.”
“Mogar-”
“No! No, don’t ‘Mogar’ me! You lost the right to call me that when I got banished and none of you did a damn thing. Here, I’m Michael,” he seethed.
“Michael, do you think we stood around and did nothing because we wanted to?” Lindsay shouted in frustration, her claws digging into Michael’s shoulder. He flinched at the sharp pain but didn’t look away. “If we had stood up for you, we would all have been dealt a worse punishment than what she gave you. We would have been tried for treason and killed.”
Michael knew what the Queen was capable of, the whole realm knew. If you stood up against the Queen she would see it as treason and would sentence you to be executed. No questions asked. Her definition of a “fair trial” was asking if you thought her decision was wrong and, being a faerie, you could only tell the truth, so once you said yes there really was no other evidence needed.
Lindsay continued, “Would you have wanted that? Huh? Instead of banishment you, along with me, your mother, would be dead. You’re lucky, Michael. Obviously you weren’t meant to live with full blooded faeries, so you have a chance in this world, with the humans. And it seems you’re getting along pretty nicely too. I saw you back there with those men; you looked happy.”
“Crion’s dead,” Michael spat, causing Lindsay to shrink back in shock. “One of those men you saw me with killed him right in front of me because they thought they were protecting me. That’s what they do to fae in this world. So no, I’m not lucky just because I was banished. Either world I live in, I run the risk of being killed. Yeah, here the chance isn’t as high because I can glamour myself, but what happens when I get too drunk? Or in a moment of panic I lower it? What then?”
Lindsay said nothing, her mouth still open in shock. He sneered at the ring nearby and thought briefly of torching it, but simply setting it on fire wouldn’t work. It was protected by magic. “Michael…”
“No, just… just go home, Lindsay,” he finally said, looking her once more in the eyes. “Tell my mother that if she wants to know how I’m doing then she can bring her happy ass up here and visit me personally.”
“She can’t,” Lindsay replied, her voice hardening slightly. “The Queen no longer allows her on Earth, remember? Or are you so caught up in your ‘woe is me’ situation that you forgot? She wants to see you, but she’s forbidden from doing anything about it.”
“Where’s your human?” Michael asked, changing the subject. He glanced around but saw no sign of any lured human near her. “I thought you were on assignment.”
“I am, I mean I was,” she said cautiously. Michael narrowed his eyes.
“What aren’t you telling me, Lindsay?”
There was a pause as bit her lip before sighing. “She sent me.”
What? “Who’s ‘she’? Cut the cryptic bullshit,” Michael snapped.
“Your mother wanted me to check on you, Michael, but the real reason I’m here is because the Queen sent me.”
“What does she want with me? I thought she wouldn’t bother me anymore once she got rid of me,” Michael sneered.
“She…” Lindsay looked away from Michael before continuing, “she’s taken an interest to one of your friends, and once I return and give her my report she’s going to make the decision of whether or not she wants him.” Michael’s heart dropped to the floor. Son of a bitch.
“Which one?” he barked after a silence. Let her try and send one of her fucking servants to go after one of my friends, let her fucking try.
“The one that tried to jump in your lap,” Lindsay replied. Oh no. “She’s had fae trailing you for a while now. She wants to make sure you don’t betray them and cause someone to discover our realm and try and destroy it or something. If you ask me, she’s a little paranoid but whatever.”
Michael was pissed off. “Tell Queen Bitch that Gavin is off limits. All of them are. You and everyone else are to leave them alone. I mean it. I wasn’t wanted back home so this world is my home now, the half faerie side of me be damned. I can’t stop you from doing this to people I don’t care about, but if any of them lay a finger on my friends I will personally put a steel bullet through their brains.”
He turned to walk away when Lindsay grabbed his shoulder and spun him around quickly. Her features were no longer those of his caring friend, but that of a monster only seen in nightmares. “You can’t hide what you are forever,” she said quietly, making the situation even more horrifying than what it was. “They’re going to find out eventually, and then what? Your friends will hate you. You won’t be welcome back home. You’ll have no one. Then we’ll see whose brain that bullet gets put through.”
He had a list of things he wanted to say to her, a list of ways he wanted to make her suffer for saying those things to him, but he refrained. Instead he removed her hand from his shoulder and walked away, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket as he did so. He knew it was Ryan telling him his time was up and wondering where the hell he was. As he walked away and began dialing Ryan’s number he felt a breeze and heard the tinkling once more. He stopped and turned towards the spot he and Lindsay had been standing just seconds ago.
She was gone, and according to the text Ryan just sent, he was going to get his ass kicked when he got back.