Torn
Page 21
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Normally Merle would be out back, and Brighton would be watching over her. The doors would be open and jazzy music would be drifting out from inside the house.
The front door opened as I stepped through the wrought-iron gate and approached the sprawling porch. Brighton stood in the open doorway, her blonde hair in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. She was in her mid-thirties, gorgeous in an all-American, beauty pageant winning way.
“Thank you for coming over right away.” She stepped back, letting me into the cool interior of the house. The place was very traditional, with old furniture and walls papered with dainty flowers in muted, pastel colors. It probably had been that way since the house was built, lovingly taken care of through the ages. “I didn’t know who else to call. I don’t really trust the other members and I know things are really bad right now.”
I couldn’t blame her for not trusting the Order. Merle had been fed on by the fae and hadn’t fully mentally recovered from that. A lot of the Order members were dicks when it came to Merle, but before the incident with the fae, she was pretty high up there.
This wasn’t the first time Merle had disappeared. Sometimes she roamed off, but I’d never seen Brighton this stressed out about it before.
“What’s going on?” I asked her.
She walked through the sitting room and into the dining hall. There were several journals and handwritten notes laid out on the oval, cream-colored table. “Mom hasn’t been acting right since the gate opened.” She paused, picking up a short glass of what I assumed contained liquor. “More so than normal. It’s like she knew this was going to happen.”
I thought back to the last conversation I’d had with Merle. The woman had known a lot—all about halflings, the fact there were two gates—and she’d always had a major problem with Val. I’d always believed Merle was just being a Judgey McJudgers over Val’s dating habits like some older people tended to be, but now I was wondering if she was just seeing something we’d all been blind to.
“Tell me what happened.”
She took a swig of her drink then stopped. “You want something to—”
“No, I’m fine.”
Brighton wet her lips then swallowed hard. Her knuckles on the hand holding her glass were bleached white. “She hasn’t been sleeping a lot since the gate was opened. Maybe an hour a night, and I would wake and hear her pacing in her bedroom, murmuring to herself about how it wasn’t safe here anymore. At first, I wasn’t too concerned. It may not be safe for anyone since the knights and the prince came through the gate, but three days ago it changed. She started talking about these places where the fair folk lived.”
My brows rose. Fair folk was another name for fae, one not commonly used outside of people who believed in fairy tales. “Was she talking about the Otherworld?”
“That’s what I thought at first, but she started talking about communities, and I realized she was talking about here, in our world.”
I frowned, not following the importance of that. The fae that had crossed over into our realms lived among humans. Hell, there could be one living a block from here.
“I know what you’re thinking, and I thought the same thing. That she was just talking about the fae.” Brighton coughed out a stressed, hoarse laugh. “Then this morning she came downstairs with all these papers and told me that it was no longer safe for her or me to be here. I tried to calm her down, but nothing was working. She was in a fit.” Lifting the glass to her mouth, she downed the contents in one impressive gulp. “She was saying that the Order couldn’t stop the knights and the prince. That only the fae could, and the Order knew that.”
I watched Brighton walk to the other side of the table. “I should’ve followed her immediately when she went outside, but I didn’t. Maybe five minutes passed, and when I went to check, she wasn’t in the courtyard. I searched all the nearby streets. It’s been decades since she’s gotten in a cab. She was just . . . gone. You know she couldn’t have gotten that far, but she was gone, Ivy.”
Okay. Unless Merle called an Uber, which was unlikely, that was very weird.
“When I came back in, I saw these journals, and once I picked them up and started reading them, I couldn’t stop. If you look at them, you’ll understand why.” She placed her glass down on the table then reached over, picking up a leather-bound journal. “You need to read this.”
I reached over the table and took the journal from her. The thing was old, the leather worn and soft, and the paper had a faint yellow tint. I turned it around and started reading as Brighton started walking back and forth.
At first, none of it really made sense. It was like picking up a book and starting it in the middle, but as I turned the pages and kept reading, things started to piece together.
Disbelief flooded me as I really started to make sense of what I was reading. “My God,” I whispered, staring at the journal. “This can’t be . . .”
Brighton stopped pacing and crossed her arms. “That’s what I thought too, but my mom’s not that crazy. They’re not the rantings of a lunatic.”
“I know she’s not, but this is . . . it would be insane.” I reread the lines again, recognizing names of past Sect leaders—names connected with other names I didn’t recognize, but attached to dates of when they’d either crossed over into our world or had been born into ours. I sat down in the chair before I fell down. “No, not insane but unheard of.”
The front door opened as I stepped through the wrought-iron gate and approached the sprawling porch. Brighton stood in the open doorway, her blonde hair in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. She was in her mid-thirties, gorgeous in an all-American, beauty pageant winning way.
“Thank you for coming over right away.” She stepped back, letting me into the cool interior of the house. The place was very traditional, with old furniture and walls papered with dainty flowers in muted, pastel colors. It probably had been that way since the house was built, lovingly taken care of through the ages. “I didn’t know who else to call. I don’t really trust the other members and I know things are really bad right now.”
I couldn’t blame her for not trusting the Order. Merle had been fed on by the fae and hadn’t fully mentally recovered from that. A lot of the Order members were dicks when it came to Merle, but before the incident with the fae, she was pretty high up there.
This wasn’t the first time Merle had disappeared. Sometimes she roamed off, but I’d never seen Brighton this stressed out about it before.
“What’s going on?” I asked her.
She walked through the sitting room and into the dining hall. There were several journals and handwritten notes laid out on the oval, cream-colored table. “Mom hasn’t been acting right since the gate opened.” She paused, picking up a short glass of what I assumed contained liquor. “More so than normal. It’s like she knew this was going to happen.”
I thought back to the last conversation I’d had with Merle. The woman had known a lot—all about halflings, the fact there were two gates—and she’d always had a major problem with Val. I’d always believed Merle was just being a Judgey McJudgers over Val’s dating habits like some older people tended to be, but now I was wondering if she was just seeing something we’d all been blind to.
“Tell me what happened.”
She took a swig of her drink then stopped. “You want something to—”
“No, I’m fine.”
Brighton wet her lips then swallowed hard. Her knuckles on the hand holding her glass were bleached white. “She hasn’t been sleeping a lot since the gate was opened. Maybe an hour a night, and I would wake and hear her pacing in her bedroom, murmuring to herself about how it wasn’t safe here anymore. At first, I wasn’t too concerned. It may not be safe for anyone since the knights and the prince came through the gate, but three days ago it changed. She started talking about these places where the fair folk lived.”
My brows rose. Fair folk was another name for fae, one not commonly used outside of people who believed in fairy tales. “Was she talking about the Otherworld?”
“That’s what I thought at first, but she started talking about communities, and I realized she was talking about here, in our world.”
I frowned, not following the importance of that. The fae that had crossed over into our realms lived among humans. Hell, there could be one living a block from here.
“I know what you’re thinking, and I thought the same thing. That she was just talking about the fae.” Brighton coughed out a stressed, hoarse laugh. “Then this morning she came downstairs with all these papers and told me that it was no longer safe for her or me to be here. I tried to calm her down, but nothing was working. She was in a fit.” Lifting the glass to her mouth, she downed the contents in one impressive gulp. “She was saying that the Order couldn’t stop the knights and the prince. That only the fae could, and the Order knew that.”
I watched Brighton walk to the other side of the table. “I should’ve followed her immediately when she went outside, but I didn’t. Maybe five minutes passed, and when I went to check, she wasn’t in the courtyard. I searched all the nearby streets. It’s been decades since she’s gotten in a cab. She was just . . . gone. You know she couldn’t have gotten that far, but she was gone, Ivy.”
Okay. Unless Merle called an Uber, which was unlikely, that was very weird.
“When I came back in, I saw these journals, and once I picked them up and started reading them, I couldn’t stop. If you look at them, you’ll understand why.” She placed her glass down on the table then reached over, picking up a leather-bound journal. “You need to read this.”
I reached over the table and took the journal from her. The thing was old, the leather worn and soft, and the paper had a faint yellow tint. I turned it around and started reading as Brighton started walking back and forth.
At first, none of it really made sense. It was like picking up a book and starting it in the middle, but as I turned the pages and kept reading, things started to piece together.
Disbelief flooded me as I really started to make sense of what I was reading. “My God,” I whispered, staring at the journal. “This can’t be . . .”
Brighton stopped pacing and crossed her arms. “That’s what I thought too, but my mom’s not that crazy. They’re not the rantings of a lunatic.”
“I know she’s not, but this is . . . it would be insane.” I reread the lines again, recognizing names of past Sect leaders—names connected with other names I didn’t recognize, but attached to dates of when they’d either crossed over into our world or had been born into ours. I sat down in the chair before I fell down. “No, not insane but unheard of.”
