15. Cami
CHAPTER 15
CAMI
W hite.
Porcelain siding.
Bright blue skies.
Pristine glass.
Vibrant green courtyards with lively flowers and buzzing bees.
Utopia .
That was what my mother had called it during my tour—one I couldn’t remember agreeing to, but I must have since she’d just taken me all around to show me her home.
Or was it our home?
I still wasn’t sure how I’d arrived here. But that was rather normal when it came to my parents—they often took me places without any explanation at all. I’d fall asleep in my bed, just to wake up in the middle of a burning field.
As far as random field trips went, this one seemed okay thus far.
Everyone we passed nodded a hello, the glittering wings at their backs confirming their inhuman status. I studied some of the feathers, a memory nagging at the edge of my mind. One of white plumes tinged with gold.
But before I could grasp it, we turned a corner to admire a large fountain surrounding a feminine statue. She stood in the middle with her arms high, praising the skies.
I… I’d seen something like this before. A statue of intensity, only masculine in nature with scars instead of wings.
I frowned. Why ? —
“I’m so sorry about your father, dear,” my mother said, causing me to blink.
“My father?” I repeated as a gray shadow fell across the fountain, making it appear sooty and burned for a fragment of a second.
But when I blinked again, the vision returned to all white.
Strange.
My mother cleared her throat. “Well, yes. His death. But you have to understand that it was needed.”
“Dad’s dead?” I asked, confused as to how we reached this topic.
Did I already know about his death?
Had we been speaking about it earlier?
I… I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t remember most things right now. Like how I got here, I thought for the millionth time. Where am I? What’s utopia? Why do I feel so lost?
“Have you not heard a word I’ve said?” my mother demanded, her tone one I knew all too well.
“I’m sorry,” I immediately replied, lowering my gaze. “I… I’m not feeling like myself.”
None of this made any sense. I wasn’t even sure how I’d arrived here. Or why…?
My brow furrowed, my gaze scanning my mother’s white dress and… “Why do you have wings?” I blurted out.
She pursed her lips, her expression the epitome of disappointment. “I’m a Virtuous Fae, Camillia. Honestly, how you’ve survived this long with your na?veté is beyond me.”
I frowned. Virtuous Fae . That was familiar. Angelic beings. Original fae. Something about a light and the shattering of a Source…
And a Virtuous Fae falling…
I looked at the statue in the fountain again. The feminine lines were all wrong. They should be masculine. Agonized. Bent over, muscles taut, and showcasing bloody tears where the wings used to be.
It again bled to shades of gray, the visage darkening before brightening once more.
What is that? I wondered, glancing up again. The clear sky couldn’t be casting any shadows. And yet?—
My mother snapped her fingers in front of me. “If I’m going to explain this, then you’re going to listen.”
An apology lingered on my lips. But I didn’t voice it because my jaw was clenched too tight. It was like my body refused to issue the words while my mind screamed them.
However, a small voice whispered, Something isn’t right .
I clung to that small voice, curious as to what it meant.
“As I already said, your father was a means to an end. I seduced him to create you. He made the deal at my request. Then he helped me train you. After that, well, there was no need to keep him anymore.” She shrugged like everything she’d said made perfect sense, whereas I didn’t understand a word of it. “It wasn’t like he would be allowed here.”
She waved a hand around us, showcasing her utopia once again.
So perfect. Clean. Quiet.
What happened to all the other fae? I wondered, glancing up at the crystal-blue sky. Are they flying?
And when did my mother grow wings? She’s human…
I nearly asked aloud, but she was already speaking again, something about my purpose.
“You should have finished the job by now,” she told me.
What job? The question lingered on my tongue, only to be swallowed as the sky shifted and turned a murky brown color. I gaped at it, then startled when it returned to its blue shade. How…?
“You were born for this, Camillia. I’m not sure why it’s taking you so long to complete the task.” She shook her head. “Well, your grandmother will be here soon for an assessment. Perhaps you just need a little nudge in the right direction.”
She started walking again, guiding me toward an arch that bridged two of the pristine buildings. Flowers and vines decorated the white stone, the greenery spelling out a word I couldn’t quite read. It was right there, lurking on the edge of my mind, but the more I concentrated on it, the more illegible it became.
Weird , I thought, frowning at it.
“ Camillia ,” my mother hissed.
I blinked.
Oh.
I’d stopped walking.
I hurried to catch up to her, a sick feeling curling in my gut. She was no doubt taking me to another infamous training exercise. Perhaps that was the cause of the flickering shadows.
Would a storm approach overhead? A tornado? Something destructive that I would have to use magic to fight?
At least we seem to be the only ones still here , I decided. Everyone else had disappeared.
Although, it was quite strange to be wandering these too-clean streets alone with my winged mother.
Am I dreaming? I wondered.
That… that actually might make sense.
Mainly because my mother was dead.
I halted again. My mother’s dead. That realization struck me in the heart, making my breathing quicken.
“I’m not dead, Camillia,” she said, facing me once more with a look of utter exasperation.
Did I say that out loud? I wondered, startled by her response.
“I’m a Virtuous Fae, not a human,” she went on. “And you’re a mixed breed, but your Virtuous Fae heritage is stronger than your Hell Fae genetics. Once you finish your task, your grandmother will ensure you’re a pureblood by burning that wretched side of you to ash.”
“What task?” I blurted out, completely lost. Her words were registering, but the meaning behind them was too unbelievable to make sense.
“Taking back the Virtuous Fae Source,” she replied, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “You’re a siphon, darling. Created with my blood and that of one of his Hell Fae creations. You were designed to absorb the light and restore Virtuous Fae kind.”
She stepped forward and pressed a palm to my cheek, her affection all wrong.
My mother had never liked touching me.
And I didn’t like being touched by her either.
“It’s quite a gift, really,” she murmured. “But you need to use it properly.”
That last part was stated with her trademark annoyance, her hand falling away.
“Honestly, Camillia, I have no idea what you were thinking on that dance floor. All you had to do was hold on to him for a few more minutes, and the charms would have done their part in weakening him.”
Charms?
And who was this him she mentioned?
“Instead, you shoved the light back into him, returning him to his throne.” She shook her head. “Your grandmother is going to be very disappointed in you.”
“Grandmother,” a feminine voice echoed with a snort. “Fae, I hate that term.”
My mother winced, her attention turning upward as a black-haired woman with glorious golden-tipped wings floated toward us.
She resembled the woman from the statue in the fountain, but that wasn’t what caught my eye the most. It was the flickering sky behind her that held me captive.
Smoky and black, not blue.
But with a blink, it showcased a beautiful day.
How bizarre…
“Apologies,” my mother said, her focus on the angel touching the ground.
I stared at her, a unique form of familiarity striking me in the gut. I know her , I realized. Yet I had no idea how, as I was certain I’d never seen her before.
But there was something about her eyes…
Piercing gray in color.
And cruel.
So, so cruel.
I… I wasn’t sure how I knew that. She didn’t look particularly evil. But there was just something exceedingly wicked about her, an instinctual response that I couldn’t explain. All I wanted to do was run .
No.
Not run.
Fight .
My brow furrowed at the conflicting urges. Part of me wanted to flee, and the other part wanted to hurt this woman.
Where is this coming from? I wondered, dizzy from the insane instincts rioting inside me. How do I know this woman?
Grandmother , a voice instantly replied. Because my mother had just used that term and the woman had scoffed at it. This is my grandmother.
Only, I’d never met her before.
Yet I knew her. Deep down, my soul recognized hers. And I did not like her.
“Well, let me look at you, Camillia,” the female said, standing a few feet away, her wings disappearing in a wink. “You did a number on that dress.”
Frowning, I glanced down at the gold fabric hanging in tatters around me. Uh, that’s… hmm. I was covered in the appropriate areas, but practically naked otherwise.
“She fought the charms,” my mother explained.
“Yes, I know. I watched.” My grandmother—an odd noun to use in reference to this stranger who wasn’t a stranger—sighed. “I know we decided to keep her innocent in order to help her better assimilate and go undetected, but she was clearly a little too innocent.”
“Pierre and I went through all the exercises you recommended,” my mother responded, her voice holding an edge to it. “I’m not sure what we could have done to better prepare her.”
The cruel-eyed woman waved away the commentary. “I don’t want to hear excuses, Mystika. What I want to hear are solutions.”
“We tell her everything and explain what’s at stake,” my mother instantly replied. “He already knows she’s a threat. But he can’t kill her.”
“But he can imprison her,” the female replied. “And we know how much he enjoys his prisons.”
Who are we talking about? I wondered, staring between them.
I was missing details.
Hell, I was missing a lot more than simple details.
Why is my mind so foggy?
Where the fuck am I?
And why do I know this woman?
“All the more reason to tell her everything so she can be prepared to fight him. She’s already weakened him substantially. It won’t take much to finish the process.”
The female shook her head, disagreeing. “This has to be done properly. Siphon the light, then negotiate. You know everything is about deals, darling.”
My gaze narrowed. Darling was the term my mother used for me. It sounded sweet, but it was actually meant to be condescending. And it seemed she’d learned it from this woman.
“Why do I know you?” I demanded, somehow finding my voice. It came out strong, pleasing me greatly.
However, it had the opposite impact on the black-haired angel before me.
She gave me a look so deadly I almost took a step back. “I’m your flesh and blood, girl. That’s how you know me.”
I started to shake my head but stopped when her eyes narrowed.
Wow, if looks could kill, I would be a dead fae.
Something about that thought triggered an onslaught of rules to roll through my mind.
Hell Fae Rule #2: Don’t Draw Attention.
Hell Fae Rule #3: Know Your Enemy Before Engaging.
Hell Fae Rule #1: Don’t Die.
They weren’t in order, but that didn’t matter. They all applied.
“Apologize to your grandmother, Camillia,” my mother demanded.
“ Ugh , enough with the familial title,” the female grated out.
“I’m sorry, Vivaxia,” my mother said. “Apologize to our Virtuous Fae Queen, Camillia. Right now.”
My mouth opened to obey, but the words… the words didn’t come out.
Because that name— Vivaxia —meant something to me.
Something important.
Something catastrophic .
I stared at her. Studied her elegantly beautiful face. Her alluring features. Her familiarity. Her cruel eyes .
Vivaxia, I repeated to myself. Vivaxia… Vivaxia… My eyes widened. “ Vivaxia .”
The Virtuous Fae who had caused Lucifer to fall.
The Virtuous Fae who had treated Az like a pet.
I recognized her through my mate. Or perhaps both Az and the Hell Fae King. Maybe even through Lucifer’s book, Vita.
Regardless of the source, I knew exactly who this bitch was, my soul knowing her dark presence on nearness alone.
Oh, hell no.
“I’ll never fucking apologize to you,” I spat, furious as all the pieces finally clicked together. As all my memories hit me at once. As everything I’d just been through slammed into my mind and heart and soul .
I wanted to kill this female instead.
Rip her apart.
Shred. Her. To. Fucking. Pieces.
I rushed her, my palms outstretched as I screamed in fury at everything she’d done to Az. At everything she’d done to Lucifer.
Only to hit an invisible wall.
She tsked. “That’s not polite, Camillia. I gave you life and purpose, and this is how you thank me?”
“Thank you?” I nearly laughed. “I want to fucking kill you.”
She rolled her eyes like I was an annoying gnat. Then she flicked her wrist and sent me sailing across the too-white road into the side of a building.
Silver ropes appeared, binding me before I could move.
Then the mirage around us faded to reveal the truth.
No more clean lines. No more blue sky. No more green grass.
Instead, all I saw was gray.
Smoke. Pollution. A world tinted by a blacked-out sun.
And before me was a woman with storm clouds for eyes, her turmoil a presence that existed all around us.
My mother cowered nearby, her expression oddly panicked.
But the female in front of me was all regal elegance, her features exuding boredom.
“All right, Camillia. I can see you require a lesson in respecting your elders.” A feather appeared in her hand, her manicured fingers stroking the golden edge. “So let’s begin, shall we?”