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“You were hidden very well,” he says again. “It was my only choice. Once I got my doctorate, they finally let me in. Six years, I waited for my chance. To get to know you. To make you trust me. To show you the truth of what the world can be really like. You weren’t supposed to run away. I ran out of time. And now look at us.”
Right. I’m locked in his office and he’s telling me tha
t he wants me to marry him and be his broodmare.
Excuse me while I throw up for real this time.
I might’ve been an in-patient at the Black Pine facility for a long, long time, but I’m not the crazy one out of the two of us. Even when he was my doctor and I was biding my time before I’d be released, no way would I have ever turned to him for help.
Of course, then I remember how I basically begged for that med check when I was trying to medicate Nine and Rys away, and… okay. He has a point.
I’m different now. Changed. I’ve seen too much to go back to pretending the fae aren’t real. They are. And, with Gillespie willing to spill the beans, I decide the only thing I can do is take advantage of that.
Plus, anything to get the idea of the two of us together out of my head…
“You’re like me,” I say, working hard not to give away how gross that makes me feel, just admitting that out loud. “You called Amy and Frankie humans. Is everyone else human here, too?”
Gillespie doesn’t answer me right away. I can see the cogs working behind his eyes as if he’s wondering what I can do with the information. He must figure it’s harmless because, after a few tense moments, he shakes his head.
“Not everyone. A couple of the nurses, some techs, they’re put here on purpose, straight out of Faerie. When you were younger, it seemed you were better at picking up on them so they were removed if you had a reaction. Once you stopped reacting, some of the fae-touched humans were allowed to become bolder.”
Hmm. There were a lot of staff changes around the time I came to the asylum. Back then, I didn’t know how Black Pine worked so I figured the turnover was normal. Then the therapy started, the sessions, the meds… and I guess I just didn’t give a shit anymore.
“What about my doctors? Were they all in on it?”
“Not the doctors. Remember, Black Pine is a ‘respectable’ facility. There are real patients enrolled in its programs. Every doc that walks into this place is exactly who they say they are. They stay until they figure out something’s not quite right.”
I get that. If I thought staff turnover was bad, that was nothing compared to my doctors changing every couple of months.
But that doesn’t make sense. If the doctors don’t have anything to do with fae or Faerie, then what is he doing here? He has a degree—and I’ve seen the countless diplomas hanging on his wall myself which, in retrospect, should’ve been a tip-off that he wasn’t as young as he appeared—so I know his credentials are legit.
“Do they know that you’re part fae?” I ask him.
I don’t even have to explain who I mean by ‘they’.
“I’m over three hundred years old. I’ve spent a lot of time perfecting my glamour. I don’t have a prophecy hanging over my head. My human side is my best disguise. They have no idea what I’m capable of.”
He sounds proud, like he’s happy to be fooling everyone else.
They have no idea what I’m capable of.
Considering I’m trapped in a closet, I think I’m beginning to have a good handle on that.
9
Our strange game of twenty questions doesn’t last much longer.
Regardless of my sudden appearance here—and his obvious pleasure at that fact—Gillespie still has a job to do. Just because he’s trapped me behind the barrier of iron and salt, that doesn’t mean that he’s done seeing his patients.
At least, that’s what he tells me as he gets up to put the chair away.
With an unnecessary warning to stay quiet, he promises that he’ll check on me again in between patients. I’m not looking forward to it.
Even if I wanted to shout and draw attention to myself—risking the oblivious humans—I don’t think I could. As soon as he closes the door, the room is silent. Kind of muffled. I can’t hear a single thing through the wood, like it’s been soundproofed or something.
Considering he’s been prepping for this for longer than I want to think about, he probably did soundproof this space.
About an hour or so later, he pokes his head in, reminding me to eat my fruit if I’m hungry before asking if I’m ready to accept his proposal yet. I can’t even bring myself to give him an answer. I keep hoping he’s kidding.
