Ben immediately pulls back, dropping Faelan’s arm. He looks shocked, unsure of what happened, of what he just did. “Forgive me, hunter,” he says, shame filling his eyes. He uses his shirt to wipe the blood from his face. “I was weak.” When he glances at me, fear replaces the shame in his gaze. “I should’ve resisted her.”
Faelan cradles his wounded arm against his chest. His words are less formal, his Irish accent very clear, when he says, “Just be sure nothin’ gets through the barrier I set up. I’ll finish this and then we’ll leave you be.” I can tell he’s in pain, but his voice is steady. He gives Ben a nod and they share a look, like they have some sort of strange camaraderie.
I don’t understand any of this. I just watched a guy suck another guy’s blood and heal himself because I burned him?
I think of my connection with fire, how it whispers to me, how I saw flames behind my eyelids, felt heat when I touched Ben.
I burned him. How is that even possible?
A soft whimper comes from my chest, and my legs turn liquid.
I sink to the floor, my back scraping against the dresser. “What’s happening to me?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
Faelan is silent for several seconds as he looks down on me, his blood dripping onto the floor beside my foot. His shirt is soaked with it, the black cotton shimmering in the dark room. “As I said, your origin is Emerging. You’re not human. You’re what some call a demi, or demigoddess. In this case, your mother was a goddess, and your father was a human.”
“But my mother—Lauren, she—”
“That woman wasn’t your real mother.” He releases a tense breath and moves to sit on the bed, leaning closer to me. He lowers his voice, like he’s trying to be gentle. “According to our knowledge, the woman—Lauren Spencer—had a child, yes. She gave birth, and the baby girl lived for three years. But then it died. For some reason, you were put in the child’s place, her life given to you. Perhaps your watcher at the time hoped it would ease the woman’s pain, hoped it would hide you and your magic. Whatever the reason, the human woman never knew she was raising a holy creature.”
“She didn’t raise me,” I say bitterly. I wonder if that’s why she looked at me as if I were a stranger. She knew I wasn’t her Sage. Her little girl had died. Maybe somehow she saw the truth.
Bile rises in my throat. “Oh, God,” I whisper. A wave of memories floods through me. So many times people seemed like they couldn’t stand being around me, seemed to fear me. I was never able to connect with anyone. They always pulled away. Always. Like they could tell I was wrong. Everyone except—
“Ziggy!” I say.
“What?” Faelan’s brow pinches in confusion.
“I came here with her. I need to be sure she’s okay.”
He studies me for a second. “She’s human?”
“Yes, she’s . . . well, she’s my only friend.” And if something happened to her in this mess, it’s my fault.
“If I ensure her safety, will you surrender, demi? Will you come with me willingly?”
“Don’t call me that. My name is Sage.” At least I think it is.
“You’re willing to come with me, then?”
My skin prickles in fear at the thought of giving in and going with this guy. But knowing what I did to Ben, and what Ben did to this Faelan guy . . . I need to figure this out—whatever it is. God, could I really hurt someone that badly? Maybe kill them?
“I’ll come with you, yes,” I say, defeated.
He stands, and I notice the blood on his arm is sticky, nearly dried. He’s not bleeding anymore because there’s no wound now. He’s completely healed too.
“Very good,” he says. “Stay close to my side until we can get you someplace safe.”
“But Ziggy—”
“I’ll show you she’s fine.” He moves to the door and looks at me with stern emerald eyes. “If she’s the human you came with, then she’s right out here.”
My heart beats faster at the layers of meaning in his words. I stand, and the strange metal ring around my neck shifts, the ache in my skin flaring again for a second. But I grit my teeth at the pain and follow him into the hall.
Star pops her head around the corner, her blue hair bright in the poorly lit space, her face a glowing mask of concern. “Oh, sweetie, you okay?”
The urge to kick her fills me. I’m so pissed, so horrified at what she’s done to me. I would’ve been perfectly happy never knowing any of this. And I felt fine until I drank that potion she gave me. I don’t care if she’s some sort of magical freak. She’s a traitor. A liar. And if she comes any closer, I’m going to stab her with one of her red stilettos.
She must see the intensity of the emotions on my face because the brightness in her eyes dulls, and she backs up a few steps when I walk past.
And then I spot a familiar figure emerging from the kitchen into the living room, shoving a cheeseburger into her mouth.
“Ziggy?” I say, confused.
She’s fine. She’s . . . eating? Hasn’t she been paying attention? Did she miss me being thrown across the room by the commando freak, Faelan?
Ziggy pauses midbite and mutters around her meat. “Aw shit.” Her eyes turn sheepish. “Hey, girl. How’s the tits?” When I don’t move, she adds, “I would’ve told you about all of this, but . . . well, I’m not exactly in charge. I was just watching you for the big man, Marius. But now that it’s all out in the open . . .” She shrugs and takes another bite of cheeseburger, then says with her mouth full, “we can chill for reals.”
My body goes cold. She knew this party was a trap. She’s with these creeps. She’s a part of the con. “Ziggy, what the fuck?” My voice cracks, as every belief I’ve had over the three months that I’ve known her crumbles into dust. My one friend in the whole world. She’s a lie too.
I cross the room in silence until I’m standing right in front of her.
And I punch her in the face.
FIVE
FAELAN
The demigoddess has been silent the whole drive into the city. The only clue that lets me know she hasn’t gone catatonic from shock is the way she keeps shaking out her hand and flexing her fingers, likely because of pain from striking the human girl’s jaw.
She doesn’t hit very hard. I’ll have to be sure her tutor works with her on self-defense during her transition. Still, I’m fairly sure that the human, Ziggy, will have a bruise on her jaw for a few days.
It’s odd, but the demi seems more disturbed by the human’s betrayal of her than by the revelation of her origin. Her energy went a thick dark gray when she walked across the room to slug the girl. It’s resting in a heavy fog on her shoulders right now.
“The human was sworn to secrecy,” I say, feeling the need to dampen the swirling cloud as it starts to roll down her arms and fill the car. “She was only following orders. She’s what we call a watcher. Her job was to keep a close eye on you for us, and it would have meant her death if she’d spoken a word of the truth.”