Chapter 19: Dark Secrets

Just one break. I just wanted one single freaking break, for just a little while — and then all Hell could break loose, for all I cared.

But no. Hell just couldn’t wait.

I couldn’t believe it, though. I was nothing like him, this horrible, beautiful creature. “No,” I insisted aloud, forcing my voice not to shake. “You just said it yourself — I’m a Sídhe. I’m not like you.”

He smiled, looking down sadly as if pitying me. “So ignorant, just like a Sídhe,” he remarked. “What I said was that you were halfway like me. You are also halfway Sídhe.”

I frowned. “But that’s not possible — I’m half human, and half Sídhe. Nothing else.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Humans cannot come into the Otherworld — so therefore, you are fully magical. Half Light, half Dark.”

He wasn’t making any sense, and I didn’t see the point in trying to argue with him any more. “Didn’t you say you wanted me to tell you if I would rather go back to the Sídhe, or stay here?” I said. “Well, I want to go back.”

“It’s not so easy, little Sídhe,” Agair told me. “You are too far into our territory now. You may not go back.”

“But — ”

“Unless one of us takes you,” Agair added. “Now, I see no fay here willing to show you the way, so, little Sídhe, how do you plan on getting back?”

I opened my mouth, but then shut it again. “Now, wait,” I said after a pause. I narrowed my eyes. “Didn’t you just say I’m a Dark Fay, like you? Doesn’t that mean I can find my own way out?”

He laughed, a dark, musical sound. “Ah, but you cannot have it both ways. If you come back with me, you can become fully Dark, and then you might be able to find your way out. But then again, after you’ve become a Dark Fay, you would not be likely to want to go back. So either way, I suppose you will never be going back.”

I stared at him, and, strangely, I was more stubborn than afraid now. It was stupid, actually, that my temper should be flaring even now. But then again, I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t stubborn, would I?

“Oh, no,” I said. “I am not staying here forever. I will find a way out, with or without your help.”

I whirled around and began to stalk away. But, really, I knew he would come after me — I was pretty much just waiting for it. When he didn’t, though, I couldn’t help looking back. To my surprise, I could see him still standing there, a few yards back, black demon wings flapping gently. He smiled at me, amused. “You can never get out of anything if you keep looking back, Madison.”

I stopped, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I was going to get back somehow. I had to. He was just being irritating. I started walking again, seeing no point in going back — and this time, Agair did follow me.

He was flying now, no longer walking. “Where are you going, little Sídhe?”

“Home.”

He laughed again, and I resisted the urge to cringe. “How can one who is from so many worlds call one place ‘home’?” he wondered.

I just ignored him. I only thought of getting back to Tearmann, although I still had no clue how I was going to get there.

“Hmm, you seem to be quite an obstinate one,” commented Agair. “Not like Sídhe, not like Dark Fay, not like shadow. What could you be then, little Sídhe?”

Human? I thought, but I didn’t reply out loud. Or maybe I was just mental. That would sure explain a lot.

“Come with me, little sister,” Agair insisted. “I shall take you home.”

I looked at him, raising my eyebrows skeptically. “Oh, yeah? And where, exactly, do you consider ‘home’ to be?”

He grinned. “Perhaps you are smarter than I thought, little Sídhe. But I do not intend to deceive. I will return you to the boundary.”

“Really?” I wasn’t sure if I could trust him. Actually, I was almost completely sure I couldn’t trust him.

“A Dark One never lies.” I noticed that that wasn’t exactly an answer, but it was my only chance. So I followed him.

When I had been coming into the forest, I hadn’t noticed how frightening the place was. The dark trees loomed over us so that I could hardly see the sky through the leafless branches. Now I couldn’t help expecting something horrible to suddenly jump out at me — but then I remembered that I was walking next to that horrible creature I kept imagining.

I was actually surprised when I saw sunlight ahead, the edge of the forest, even though Agair had promised to bring me back. I began walking faster, although I didn’t dare run, until I reached the last trees.

“Farewell, little Sídhe. I shall see you soon.”

“What?” I spun around, startled — but he was gone.

After the encounter with Agair, I was pretty sure I would never go in another forest again.

I went straight back to Brenda’s house, and it turned out that she and Nell were apparently both still asleep. Hadn’t she said they — we — only needed three to five hours of sleep? Another door in the hall was open, though. That was probably her parents’ room.

I went back to the bedroom where Nell and I were staying. Having nothing else to do, I found myself fixing the bed I had slept in — can’t help being a neat freak. Then I just sat down on the bed, forcing myself not to try and wake Nell or Brenda up. I felt terribly restless, but I wasn’t about to try going out again. So I just sat, and waited.

I let my thoughts wander, thinking about random little things. I’d forgotten to ask them about the full moon/cemetery/vampire thing. I’d have to ask once one of them woke up. And speaking of that, were they ever getting up? I wanted to ask Brenda about her and Damien, too. That might be a little too intrusive, but I was so curious. I seem to have a habit of getting into trouble because of my curiosity, actually.

As I was pondering what to ask Brenda, the door suddenly creaked opened — and, ironically, Brenda’s face appeared. “Oh,” she said quietly, spotting me, “you’re awake.” She didn’t sound particularly pleased about this.

Getting up, I told her, “I have some more questions for you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, that didn’t take you long.” Her eyes landed on the half-empty plate, brush, and my clothes from yesterday then. With a little sigh, she came over and picked up as much as she could carry of it. “My parents always want to take care of everyone,” she murmured, half-smiling.

Well, at least she seemed to be in a better mood today. Hopefully, the upcoming inquisition would be easier that way.

I followed her as she headed downstairs. She went into a little, old-fashioned (big surprise there) kitchen and brought the plate to a sink. But, of course, there was no running water — just a simple water-filled pitcher and a basin, like in the olden days. I shook my head, wondering why the Otherworld-dwellers hadn’t picked up on technology yet. I mean, if the two worlds existed so closely to each other, why on earth hadn’t any of the Sídhe — or whatever — borrowed some Earthen ideas?

“Your questions?” Brenda said, glancing at me as she set the dish aside. She leaned against the counter, looking expectant.

“Well, first of all, you haven’t exactly explained to me why I wasn’t supposed to be at the cemetery on a full moon night yet,” I began, starting with the easiest. I was saving the difficult ones for last.

“Right. Well, you know our kind are all restricted in the human world; we all have to hide, constantly. There are hardly any Sídhe in that world, as you know, but there are still quite a lot of shadows there. So, they put there magic together and enchanted those specific nights, the full moon nights, once every month, so that they could have a night of . . . peace, I guess. But since they couldn’t have the whole world, they just took all the cemeteries. They like cemeteries because . . . well, cemeteries are full of the essence of Death, and some vampires like that.” At my expression, she added, “Not all of them like it just because of that, though. Some of them, the more peaceful ones, like to go and visit their dead friends.”

I nodded slowly, finally understanding a little. “But I still have two questions about that: first, how do that keep the humans out? and, second, why aren’t the Sídhe allowed there?”

“The cemeteries are enchanted, remember?” Brenda replied. “Humans just naturally avoid going to cemeteries on full moon nights without giving it a second thought. And, I mean, isn’t that second question a little obvious? Vampires hate fairies — and anyway, we’re not supposed to fight on holy ground. If a fairy disturbed their night of peace, don’t you think there’d be fighting?”

I felt my face redden. “So I’m in really big trouble, aren’t I?”

Brenda smiled wryly. “Oh, yes. But . . . well, I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that much longer.”

I frowned. “Why do you say that?”

She smiled evasively. “Next question.”

I sighed. “Fine.” Then I thought of another question and continued stalling. “I have a question about werewolves: why do they put ‘Canis Lupus’ on their graves?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You know a lot more than you should,” she muttered.

I smiled. “Psychic, remember? Now, are you going to answer the question or not?”

“Right. Well, sometimes they want people to remember them as being werewolves, but in the human world, they obviously can’t put ‘Beloved husband and werewolf’ or whatever — so they just went with the technical name for wolves.”

“Hm.” I gnawed my lower lip as I considered how to word my next question. I didn’t want to be too brazen, but I wanted to know so bad . . .

“You have another question?” Brenda asked, seeming abnormally patient.

“Well . . . I was just sort of curious . . .” My next words came out in a rush then. “Brenda, what happened between you and Damien?”

She was silent for a long moment. She wasn’t going to answer, I was sure. I probably should have never even asked. Maybe I could have tried to get another premonition in her mind. That might have told me something . . .

But then she said, “I loved him once, and now I hate him. That’s all you need to know.” Her voice was mostly emotionless, but I thought I caught a hint of melancholy in it.

I shook my head, and before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “I know that’s not true.”

She looked at me sharply. “Excuse me?”

“Uh . . . Well, you know how I can get into people’s heads with my premonitions — but I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear — ”

“You read my mind?” That unusual good mood and patience was gone now.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” I insisted. “It really was an accident . . . but once I get into your head, I can’t get back out, and — ”

“How many times?” she demanded.

I let out a heavy sigh and paused for a moment to count. Let’s see, there was that first time on Homecoming, and then . . . “Three times, I think.”

“When?”

I could feel my face heating up again as I answered that question. “Um, the first time was on Homecoming — you know, when I passed out. And then, the night we went to see that movie, a little while after I’d gotten home . . . And just four days ago, I think, was the last time.”

She let out a little groan, probably remembering the conversation — and the thoughts — she’d had that second time.

“So, now that you know how much I know, would you wind explaining a little more to me?” I prompted.

She glared at me for another few moments. And then, suddenly, her expression changed, softened. “All right,” she said finally. “I’ll tell you what happened — but then you have to answer a question for me.”

I swallowed. What could she possibly have to ask me? I wondered. “Okay. What’s your question?”

“I’ll answer your question first,” she said, instead of telling me what she wanted to know. “Come on, let’s go back up to my room.”

I nodded and followed her back up the stairs. I suddenly realized then that I always seemed to be following people lately — but she wasn’t dragging me now. I guess that was a little better, at least.

Once in her room, we both sat down on her bed. I folded my legs so that I was sitting Indian-style, and then we turned to face each other. I could see that it was going to be hard for her to talk about this. But she was going to talk about it. At that moment, it seemed like we were really friends. She was about to tell me something very important and very secret — and I couldn’t help thinking that I was probably going to have to tell her some important secret, too.

Getting a little impatient, I asked, “So . . . how’d you meet Damien?” Okay, that didn’t sound at all right. It sounded like I was talking about some madly in love couple, not people who supposedly hated each other.

She made a face, and I guessed she probably felt the same way about him then as she did now, no matter what happened in between. “That was a pretty long time ago, when I was only thirteen. He, of course, was the same age then as he is now, though.”

Yeah, that was just plain weird. I didn’t like thinking about the immortality thing.

“But at that point, I hardly knew him at all. I knew Selma and Aldan van Alstyne, a leaders of his ‘family’, a lot better — ”

“Hey, wait,” I interrupted. “I thought his last names was Vielle.”

Brenda snorted. “Yeah, that’s what he goes by now. Vampires have to change their names a lot so they don’t get exposed. And you know what? Van Alstyne isn’t really even his last name. He’s really Damien Colville.”

Good God, I just couldn’t keep track of all their names. “Oh, and speaking of that,” I said out loud, but she cut me off.

“Now, wait, I can only answer one question at a time,” she told me. “You can save that one for when I’m done, all right?”

“Sorry, I won’t interrupt any more.”

“As I was saying,” Brenda went on, sounding overdramatic, “I knew Selma and Aldan a lot better. They were a very unusual coven, actually pretty nice — with the exception of Jared, of course.

“They acted more like a family than a coven, with Selma and Aldan as the parents; the others were Geneveve, Izett, Grace, Lilly, Carson, Damien, and Jared. Selma and Aldan were always so kind to us, which is why none of us ever tried to killed them — again, with the exception of Jared. Well, actually, we have gone after Damien and Lilly before,” she admitted. I assumed “we” meant her and the other Seacht Eilimintí.

“Lilly was sort of like the rebellious teenager in the family,” Brenda remarked. “She’s a thief, although I’m sure you’ve figured that one out by now.” She smirked, and a little bit of irritation returned to her features as she recalled my confession about all the times I’d gotten into her head.

“And this has what to do with you and Damien?” I asked impatiently, and she gave me a look that immediately silenced me.

“I was getting to that,” she snapped. “I’d known Damien for three years before . . .” Her voice lowered to a sad-sounding whisper, “. . . before it started.”

Before it started? That made it sound especially ominous — not at all like a (sometimes) romantic relationship. The strangest part was, though, I knew she still loved him; even if it wasn’t obvious just by the way she acted from someone else’s perspective, she’d had plenty of romantic thoughts about him. But then she would act like she hated him and regretted their whole “relationship”. God, this girl was confusing.

“And, um, it started . . . how?” I couldn’t help it. I was just a little impatient weasel. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, though, I was worried she might just murder me.

She sighed, only looking a little peeved. “I was fifteen, only a few months into high school. Of course, he wasn’t living in Crystal Lake then — he didn’t decide to follow me until after we’d broken up — so I only ever saw him here, in the Otherworld. A group of us, Nell, Tyler, and I were going to a Sídhe party, although we weren’t exactly allowed, so we, uh, sort of sneaked in with the aid of magic. And it turned out Damien, Jared, and Lilly had crashed the party, too. At that point, though, I think Jared really was trying to be good . . . but I guess it didn’t exactly work out.”

Wait — what the heck? No, that couldn’t be right. I was reading too much into this. But . . . what if I was right? What if Brenda had actually been with Jared at one point, too, and still sort of had feelings for him? Ew was the only thing I could think about that.

“Anyway,” Brenda said, “we found them there, and since we had crashed the party ourselves, we didn’t exactly feel like tattling. And none of us really wanted to risk dancing with anyone else there in case they’d figure us out, so we all just danced with each other — that sounds like such a cliché, actually, doesn’t it?”

“Wait — who danced with who?” I asked. “I’m guessing you danced with Damien, so . . . Ohmigod, my sister danced with Jared? And — Tyler and Lilly?” The thought was really just revolting.

Brenda snickered. “Yeah, well, you have to remember that we were all sort of friends back then. A lot has happened within the past year, though. And it wasn’t even really meant to be romantic. Just friendly. But . . . well, it sort became more than that.”

“He kissed you?” I guessed. Yes, I have to admit, I was beginning to feel just a tad jealous, but I’ve always been a sucker for a good romance.

“Ah, no. I kissed him, actually. And then . . . then he took me to this hidden garden outside the mansion, a little bit away from the actual building. Very few people even know about that garden. I’ve come to learn since then that he only takes the really special girls there.”

“So, that was when you guys first got together,” I cut in. “Whatever happened? Sounds like you two really did . . . like each other back then.”

She grimaced. “Yeah, I suppose we did. We both had this stupid fantasy about being together forever, and we actually humored that fantasy for a little while. But there were so many things keeping us apart; for one thing, you know there’s a huge law about vampires and Sídhe being together, and we could only ever even see each other when I came to visit the Otherworld. And there was also the fact that he was going to stay sixteen forever and I would continue to age like a normal person — ”

“Why didn’t you just let him change you?” I asked, before I even knew I was going to say it.

She blinked, seeming to come back to the present. “Excuse me?”

“Why didn’t you just let him turn you into a vampire, too?” I repeated. “That would have solved a lot of the problems.”

“I — I couldn’t do that,” she said, shaking her head firmly. She looked so sad suddenly, though. Regretful.

“Right,” I murmured, not wanting to push her any further. “Continue, please.”

She drew in a long breath. “Well, we stayed together for about six months, but then things just sort of started falling apart. I began to realize that we really couldn’t be together, and I think he did, too. We both knew I wasn’t going to let him change me. And then . . .” Her voice trailed off, and a dark look crossed her face.

“What?” I prompted, intrigued by her abrupt change in mood.

“Lilly left the van Alstynes and started traveling through Europe. Then Aldan and Selma left, too, although they were only going to be gone for a little while. But without them, the family didn’t do so well. That was when Jared started rebelling. He hadn’t even joined the coven at first, like Damien had, so he was accustomed to . . . uh, a more wicked lifestyle, let’s just say. He began killing humans when he fed off them, every time, and he hardly ever spent time around humans otherwise. He was becoming totally vamp, losing all the little humanity he had left.

“This was what made me realize how horrible vampires really are. I mean, what if Damien ever went bad like that? I had thought Jared was just as good as him, but, well, I was obviously wrong about that.”

I couldn’t even begin to imagine a world where Damien could be anywhere near as evil as Jared, but I didn’t say so out loud. “So you just broke up with him?” was that I did say.

“Yeah. Well, actually, it was sort of mutual. We both knew it couldn’t work, like I said.”

Something about that didn’t seem right, though. It was almost . . . I don’t know, anticlimactic. I’d been waiting all this time to hear about the big, horrible end to Brenda and Damien’s strange relationship, but now —

But then I realized that that wasn’t the end. “Something else has happened,” I said aloud, catching both of us by surprise again. When she raised her eyebrows at me, somehow managing an effective glare at the same time, I added, “Come on, Brenda, you’ve told me this much. You might as well tell me the rest. You know I’ll figure it out sometime, anyway.”

She sighed overdramatically (was she always overdramatic?) and finally said, “Fine. It’s not a whole lot, though. I guess you already know that we’ve both sort of had a hard time moving on, and sometimes . . . sometimes we got especially weak.”

I could tell she didn’t plan on saying anymore on that particular topic, and I really didn’t need her to. “And a lot’s been happening with his family, too,” she continued. “At one point, he managed to get Jared back in line, and they both went vegetarian, so to speak; they only fed off animals. Damien thought that would be the best way to keep Jared from killing. But, of course, that didn’t work either. I don’t think anything can help Jared now.

“Jared left eventually. Lilly told us that she met up with him a few times in Europe, but other than that, we have no clue where he’s been all this time.”

“There’s still more,” I said when she paused, no question in my voice.

“Good God, I was getting to it!” she insisted. “Being psychic — and not to mention nosy — as you are, I’m sure you already know quite a bit of what else has happened, but I’ll tell you anyway.

“A little after Jared first left, Damien began to stray from the vegetarian thing a little, and . . . he made a mistake.”

I gasped, and my voice was hardly even a whisper. “He didn’t . . . kill someone, did he?”

“No, no, nothing that bad,” Brenda assured me. “He just accidentally changed someone — a teenage girl, of course. Lilly was visiting then, and she encouraged him to kill the girl. She really wasn’t cut out for being a vampire, but Damien had an unusual fondness for her. I don’t know if he really loved her, if he felt sorry for her, or if they were just good friends, but he tried really hard to teach her how to survive as a vampire and protect her from the less accepting vampires.”

I didn’t know anything about this. Somehow, in all the times I’d gotten into Brenda’s head or listening to private conversations between Damien and anyone else, I hadn’t heard a thing about this. I was pretty sure I knew why, too; no one ever wanted to talk (or think) about it. “What happened to her?” I asked, anxious and dreadful for the answer at the same time.

Brenda stared at the ground as she answered, and her voice was quiet. “One day, just a couple weeks after she’d become a vampire, Maya got a hold of a broken tree branch, and . . .” Her voice trailed off, and I could imagine the rest of it on my own.

“Oh, God,” I whispered. All of this — the stories of their lives, my own life — was beginning to sound like a horrible cross between a soap opera and a horror movie.

“Yeah,” Brenda muttered. “As you can see, there is never a boring moment in the life of a fay — or a shadow.”

I just snorted. Like I hadn’t figured that one out already.

Abruptly, Brenda changed the subject. “You have a few more questions now, don’t you?” she asked me.

“Yeah, but don’t you have a question for me first?” I said.

“That can wait a little longer.” I could tell she was stalling, like I had done earlier, but I didn’t much care.

I nodded. “All right. First of all, I want to know what’s with the code names. You know, how they call you Catalina, Nell Caoimhe, Tyler Niall . . .”

Brenda snickered. “Actually, the ‘code names’ would be the ones you know us by; those are just the names we use in the human world.”

“Huh,” I murmured. It was so weird thinking of them as all those other names. I suppose they did fit fairly well, but still. And they were just so strange. I’d seen how Caoimhe was spelled before; when going by English, it made no sense that it was be pronounced kee-va. Everything Irish was strange.

And yes, that includes me.

“Next question,” Brenda said.

“Right. Uh, why did you say earlier that I wouldn’t have to worry about the vampires in Crystal Lake much longer?” I had a few guesses, but I still wanted to know for sure.

She sighed. “Well, I know you are supposed to be the one to protect us, but if we don’t make sure you stay alive, there won’t be anyone left to protect us.” And that was all she was going to say.

“Okay . . .” I bit my lip. “Now what’s your question?”

She was silent for a moment, and then, abruptly, she asked me, “Do you love Damien?”