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“Good? What in the blazes does that mean?”
He smiles and his teeth are no longer sharp and carnivorous, but they are yellow and rotting. He places a hand on my shoulder. I take pride in not jerking away from his touch, but I can’t stop my skin from crawling. I’m going to have to shower with scalding hot water to ever feel clean again.
“It means that something is to be desired, or approved,” he says.
I grit my teeth, narrowing my eyes. “Thank you, Webster, but you know damn well I wasn’t asking you for a definition of the word.”
“First lesson, Destroyer.”
“What?” The word comes out as a hiss as I struggle with an almost overwhelming urge to strangle this madman.
“Words channel and focus our power.” He smiles and chuckles. “Choose yours carefully.”
A thousand smart remarks crash over my tongue but I don’t utter any of them. Pushing them aside I think about what he said, comparing it to the moments of power I’ve felt. Each time, so far, they’ve been random and I don’t see any correlation between my words and what happened.
“How does that work?”
“At last, a good question.” The cat I’d all but forgotten is lying across my shoulders, which oddity doesn’t escape me, begins to purr loudly. “You don’t see the relationship, but you will. In time.IfI train you.”
“If?” I snap. “Isn’t that the entire point of my coming here today? If you’re not going to train me, then why am I wasting my time? I’ve got a hundred things to do as it is.”
“You have as much time as you create.”
“Oh right, give me some Zen platitudes. Thanks for the garbage alley meme. I’ll just ‘keep hanging in there’ and ‘think my way rich’, okay? Great lesson. Very powerful. I’m going.”
I spin around and head out of the nasty alley.
Waste of my time. Can’t believe I agreed to do this.
“Your life is a lie, Destroyer.”
I stop dead in my tracks. Balling my hands into fists I glare over my shoulder.
“No, it’s not. My life is important,” I say through gritted teeth.
“So is his.”
I’m no longer standing in a wet, dirty alley. I’m on the cliff with Duncan. He’s so close his scent fills my nose. Soft moonlight accents the lines of his face. He reaches a hand towards me, his fingers caress my cheek. His lips, full and glistening, demand to be kissed.
“You son of a—” I clench my eyes tight as I curse, shake my head, and break free of the memory. Opening them the Druid is in front of me but he’s not smiling as I expected. There is no hint of mischievousness or impish delight. “Howdareyou?”
“The Fae weave powerful illusions,” he says. “You can believe them. Or not.”
I raise my fists between us in a threatening way. I’m not unaware of how ridiculous what I’m doing is. He’s much bigger than me and I’m in no way a fighter, but I don’t care. I feel violated. He’s playing with my memories, my mind, and I’m not going to take it.
“The only Fae touched son of a monkey’s uncle I see messing with me is you.”
“Then you are blind.”
“What does that even mean?”
He meets my glare with one of his own. Disbelief is an emotion I don’t think I’d ever felt before my life went off the rails in Scotland. My stomach roils, fueled by the active volcano of frustration and anger.
“Open your eyes, Destroyer. See. Or don’t. You are the one to make the choice and choose you must.”
“I am sick of this,” I say through clenched teeth.
As anger edges towards hatred, darkness pushes into my peripheral vision. I don’t care. Let the darkness take them all. Burn it all down. I’m done with the Fae. Done with their games. Done with this roller coaster my life has become.
