- FIVE #2
I realized I failed all of two minutes later when Jasper laughed and I knew I had totally been thinking of a giant bed with a dozen pillows and blankets and the AC blasting cold enough to make inside feel like the Arctic.
"Soon enough," Jasper said, his voice so low that I could barely hear it and the sound of that kind of intimacy sent a shiver through my system.
I snorted, shaking my head at myself and giving up my hope of meditating.
Some things just weren't meant for everyone.
So instead, I thought about what Jasper had told me, about being a changeling, about my family, about what it meant to be connected to the angelic realm.
I closed my eyes tight, the way children do, and prayed to whatever angels or spirits or whatever were out there to help us find Jade and bring her back, all of us in one piece.
And maybe if they had time after all that, fix my feet for good.
But that definitely wasn't high priority.
"Alright," Jasper said suddenly, snapping me fully conscious.
My eyes opened and my stomach dropped as I looked down to see a hill much steeper than I had realized, Jasper's heels almost at the edge of it.
How the hell had he managed to carry me up something that steep was beyond me.
"Here," he said, moving forward a foot, bending forward, and carefully depositing me on the ground in an area that was less of a wood and more of a meadow.
"Thanks," I said, looking around. "How far... wait... what the hell?" I asked, a swarm of pests suddenly filling the air around me, making me bring my hands up to swat at them frantically. "Freaking bugs..."
But as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized they weren't bugs at all. They were too big, but they were flying, their wings moving so furiously that they were almost hard to see.
"They're pixies," Jasper said casually, smiling at them. It was the first softness I had seen him show toward other fae. "They're harmless."
I nodded, reaching out to try to touch one.
They made a tinkling giggle sound as they moved closer, their gauzy wings brushing my arm, my face.
One landed on my shoulder, its wings stilling and thereby giving me a good look at her.
The wings that I had thought were white were actually a light green and her pale blonde hair had matching streaks.
Everything about her face was a petite, perfect version of a human face.
Except she was too perfect, too finely boned, too proportionate.
She was so beautiful that she was almost ugly.
A tiny doll-like hand reached out and stroked over my cheek, the sensation much like that of a stray strand of hair brushing you unexpectedly.
Then I felt its hand near my neck and it let out a delighted little squeal that must have been some sort of call to the others because suddenly they all swarmed me, encircling me like a giant necklace.
And then I felt it moving. My necklace. The necklace Jade had given me.
Quartz or something for protection. I looked down though, and realized that they weren't pulling on that.
They were pulling something else around my neck.
But there wasn't anything else around my neck.
I only ever wore the one Jade gave me. I wasn't a jewelry kind of girl.
The hand that was pulling at it dropped it and it disappeared.
Disappeared. Like it was invisible so long as it was touching my skin. But that made no sense.
"Hey! No!" I shrieked as they finally lifted it free and flew around with it, making that shrill, happy sound all together. "They took it!" I snapped at Jasper who I found watching me with furrowed brows.
At that, he seemed to snap out of his stupor and looked at the pixies. When he spoke, his voice was lower, almost sickeningly sweet. "Come on, pretties," he said and all their eyes went to him, apt, interested. "You don't want that ugly necklace, do you?" he asked. "It's not even shiny."
I felt hope swell for all of three seconds before they stuck their tongues out at him, then giggled as they flew away.
"Damn it!" I snapped, slamming my hand down on the ground.
"How long have you had that?" Doyle's voice asked, making me start as I turned to find him standing at the edge of the steep hill. I hadn't even heard him coming.
"I don't know. I didn't know I had it on. How is that possible?"
"It's possible," Jasper said, his tone guarded. "Just incredibly, extremely fucking rare."
"That stone," Doyle said, smiling boyishly. "Was that ja..."
"Shut it," Jasper snapped at him which only succeeded in making Doyle laugh.
I made a whining sound in my throat, watching the pixies become nothing but a flutter on the wind a hundred feet away.
I heard a huff and saw Onyx drop down beside me, his eyes looking sad for me.
He stretched out beside me and I rested my head against his furry back.
Normally, I hated the smell of dogs. But there was something undeniably comforting about Onyx and his almost humanness.
And if there was one thing I could use after a long couple of days and the threat of a difficult one the next morning, it was a little comfort.
Before I realized what was happening, I had drifted off to sleep.
--
Jasper
That necklace was another piece of the Cece puzzle that didn't make sense.
Like I had told her, it wasn't impossible to have magic woven like that.
But it was rare. It was hard to come by.
And even if you did manage to come by it, it was at an extremely high price.
It was a lot of care and risk invested in a changeling. It didn't make sense.
To go through that, you did it for someone you really loved.
Then why send her off into the human realm? Why have her raised by people who could never and would never understand her?
And why the ever loving fuck would they pick that gemstone? Dozens of others would have sufficed, would have been more useful to her life. Why fucking jasper? Had they somehow known? Had they known what might happen in her future and that he would...
No.
Jesus Christ.
I was letting my imagination run away with me.
I was stressed and we were a stone's throw away from my childhood home and all the awful memories associated with it.
I needed to stop thinking about Cece and start focusing back on Jade.
--
Cece
I woke up with my mouth open to scream, my heart pounding out a frantic bass beat in my chest, my skin feeling sticky with sweat.
Their heads, I remembered through the fog of sleep, their heads were such a sickly shade of red.
On the wind, the sound of the banshee seemed louder.
I looked over at Doyle, asleep several yards away on his side, one hand pressed firmly against the ground as if prepared to pop up and onto his feet in a matter of seconds. I could have gone to him. He was the safest choice with his easy charm, his laid-back big brother protectiveness.