Gods, give me strength and patience; I’m going to need it. “Let’s try a new path,” I suggested, thinking out loud. “Tell me about your parents, Claire.”
All signs of mirth disappeared, her brow furrowing. “What? No. I don’t want to talk about that at all.”
“Too bad. I want you to tell me about them.”
“And I don’t want to,” she countered. “Fuck off.”
“Not a dream, Claire,” I told her, yet again. “Can’t just make me disappear. Tell me about your parents.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to,” she repeated.
“That’s a shitty reason. There are a lot of things in this life I don’t want to do, such as be here with you now, but we all have a sense of duty, a purpose we can’t ignore. And I want to talk about your parents. Specifically, your mother, Ophelia.” A cruel tactic, yes, but it seemed to be breaking through some of the fog in her mind, because her pupils contracted, her focus astute.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” she whispered.
“What do you know about your mother?” I wondered, ignoring the petulant turn of her mouth. “I’m guessing not much since you grew up in the Human Realm.” And her father died shortly after Ophelia’s demise. “What did your grandparents say about her?” That was who had raised her in Ohio, the mortals seemingly oblivious to Claire’s natural birthright. “Because you look just like her, Claire. Did they tell you that?”
“Stop.”
I didn’t. She clearly needed a push to realize this wasn’t a dream, to truly grasp her surroundings and purpose. To grow the fuck up. “She placed a charm on you, a hex of sorts, that dismantled your true nature. It finally unraveled yesterday, on your twenty-first birthday. Do you feel it? The gift of energy flooding your veins? Your affinity for the elements? You asked me at the bar who I am, remember? You recognized my essence. Because you’re one of us. You’re a fae. Your mother—”
“Stop.” She balled her hands into fists, her gaze narrowed. “Just. Stop.”
“I can’t.” And I wouldn’t even if I could. “You need to hear this, Claire. You need to understand who and what you are. And unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of time to ease you into this since you’re already in the Fae Realm. Your mother—”
A blast of wind blew me backward into the wall, my head knocking against the vines with a snap that I felt all the way down my spine.
Claire gasped, her hand flexing before her. “Oh God, oh God, oh God.” She jumped to her feet, tripping over the root behind her and landing on her ass. “Oh God!”
I wheezed, pushing away from the wall. Definitely has an affinity for air, too.
“This… this…” she stammered, her hands feeling around on the floor, her eyes taking on a wild gleam. “This can’t be happening. This isn’t real. I need to wake up.” She pinched her side, causing me to frown.
“Does that ever actually work?”
“Stop talking to me,” she demanded, hurling another blast of wind at me with her fingertips.
My jaw snapped to the left from the localized blast, reminding me of a punch to the fucking face. “Ow.”
“Oh, fuck! I’m… Shit!” She scrambled toward me, then backward, then froze with her hands beneath her. As if that would stop her.
A knock on the door had her petrified gaze flying sideways as Vape’s deep tenor floated through the wood. “Everyone all right in there?”
“Just getting acquainted,” I replied through my teeth.
“Sounds like she’s kicking your ass, son” was his reply.
I snorted. “Because I’m fighting with both hands tied behind my back.”
Claire’s eyebrows shot up. “Where am I?”
I couldn’t help my resulting sigh. It wasn’t like I hadn’t said this about a hundred times already. “The Fae Realm.”
“The what?” she squeaked, shaking her head. “That’s not a thing. That’s not real.”