Dark Promise by Annika West
7
This guy was mega-ancient. All of my internal alarm bells were going off.
Shocker.
“Daughter?” Willow repeated, glancing between the two of us in utter repulsion.
I’d recognize that haughty, prince-like face anywhere. Pale blond hair tumbled down his chest. Now that I wasn’t seeing him in shadow, I noticed the thin scar running down his right cheek.
I was almost impressed. Fuck, he kind of looked like an avenging angel or something.
But the clothing?
Oh for the love of all things pastel.
He wore a pale blue cloak and a blindingly white tunic tucked into copper-colored trousers that, for all I knew, were made of spun metal with how they reflected light. His bejeweled belt was leather that had been dyed pale pink.
He was my father. He was the same man I’d seen in my vision of Faery. The Great Faery Glitch, as everyone had called it.
“We cannot possibly be related,” I informed him. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in that cottage-core medieval cosplay disaster. What is with that color combo? Honestly, dude.”
The faery’s brows drew inward. “Marigold has informed me that you hold an unconventional personality. Now, I imagine this is what she was referring to. For our first time meeting in nearly two decades, that is not the response I was expecting.”
He took a step forward. The smile on his face was meant to be inviting, but the eyes — the eyes were as predatory as they got.
Not the yellow I remember from my vision, though. I wonder what that’s about. Is he into colored contact lenses? That was a phase most people went through in middle school, not in your second millennia.
His hair swirled behind him in the cold ocean breeze. “Daughter, it is strange of you to hesitate. I would think that, being the person who summoned me here, you would be glad to join me in Faery.”
“I didn’t summon you here,” I countered. “You decided to start glowing in my pocket.”
Confusion rippled across his angular face. “I am much too large to reside in such a tiny attire-fortified space. You must be mistaken.”
Willow grabbed my arm with painful force and hissed into my ear, “Shut the doorway. Shut it now. We need to get out of here.”
When she saw my hesitation, she growled, “Oh, hell no, Cut. You are not about to trust this cookie-cutter sociopath.”
“I feel like that should have been my line,” I said numbly.
There was a loud, sharp crack. Willow’s grip loosened, and then the vampire slumped to the sand.
Her head was at an unnatural angle.
The faery’s hand was outstretched, and he examined Willow’s form with distant curiosity.
My voice was tight with suppressed rage when I demanded, “You think killing my friend is going to make me more agreeable? Well, you picked the wrong fucking night, asshole! Now I’m just going to give you shit.”
He held up a hand, confused again. “I thought vampires were more resilient than that? Did she truly pass?”
I huffed. “Well… no. But still!”
Willow would heal from a broken neck. But that didn’t really change my fury at all.
He held out a hand. “Your message, your feelings, filtered through the portal piece and into my heart. I heard you, Aster. Daughter. You wish to leave this place. You are full of agony and anger, and you are desperate for an escape. Isn’t that why you came here? Isn’t that what you need?”
“You’re not exactly on the top of my To-Be-Trusted list, seeing that you’re the person who knocked up my mom and left her, then allowed me to survive as some wonky fae-Cut experiment while you actively blocked off my power for my whole life!”
His mouth parted in understanding. “Ah! Wonderful! You’ve already been briefed. That makes things much less awkward. Come, now. Let us be off.”
I cackled. It was so absurd that I had to. “Are you on an acid trip or something? No judgement. Just wondering where you’re getting these unreal visuals. Like me being happy or on your side. What about my face makes you think I’m ready to go with you? I’m so curious.”
The faery tilted his head. It reminded me of how teachers look when they’re reading a student’s incoherent homework, trying their hardest to make sense of the scribbles. “I am afraid I do not understand.”
“Locked up in Faery for so long that you missed the acid boom of the seventies?” I tsked. “You have such pathetic street cred for an immortal.”
“You’re not curious? Not even in the slightest?”
“I’m on the defensive tonight. Literally, you could tell me you had seven giant chocolate fountains, and I’ll probably not even try to verify,” I lied.
I’d totally try to verify. It’s not even worth pretending otherwise.
I added, “Again, really bad night for all this. Besides, won’t I be super enslaved in Faery? Aren’t halflings some sort of abused workforce? If I wanted that, I could work as a kindergarten teacher. Spoiler alert: I don’t.”
The man’s eyes brightened. “If you wish to know why I have kept you alive, why I have suppressed your magic, and why I have watched over you all of these years, Aster… come with me. Step into this realm. Understand your heritage and your purpose like never before. You will be safe here. Respected. Honored.”
Jeez. He didn’t have to sound so much like Gavin Hawk.
But he wasn’t like Hawk in any other way. Not really.
A bit emotionless? Yup.
Self-important? Totally.
Ready to kill me?
I squinted my eyes, trying to see through his head.
Wait. I can do that, though. Like, for real.
Without warning or explanation, I slipped into the invisible realm. If there was any chance of reading his mind, it was here.
The cold air fell away. I reached out to the faery’s head and —
He vanished.
“In my world, this offense would cost you your life.”
My chest pounded as a hand gripped my neck from behind me.
When I turned, my father’s eyes were wolfish and yellow. Blazing with power.