To Stir a Fae's Passion Page 3

  Hazel sniffed, her throat working as she swallowed, and she fell silent for a long, heavy moment. Neither Lily nor Basil prodded her to continue with her story.

  “After I made the choice,” Hazel finally began again, “the fae took the girl I gave her and handed me the male fae baby instead. Robert was furious. He was as distraught as I am. I told the fae it would be hard for me to pass off a male baby in the witch community. I explained that, naturally, witches always have female offspring. She just looked at me and said, ‘You will find a way to make it work.’ Before she left, she laid a spell on both me and Robert. On Robert, she placed an oblivion charm. She thought it better to erase his memories of what had happened instead of putting a silence spell on him as well.

  “I pleaded with her again. But again, she didn’t listen. Her spell on him would ensure he wouldn’t remember the exchange had taken place. He would only remember helping me deliver the babies in the car. Maybe she thought it would be harder on him if he knew the male baby wasn’t his. By making him forget, she might have figured he would fully accept the baby as his own son.

  “Then she laid another spell on me. It was powerful magic. For twenty-six years, I have been unable to tell a single soul about what had actually happened that night. I couldn’t even tell Robert. I wanted to, so many times. Especially after he started…” Her brows drew together, and she looked down on the table.

  “He suspected, didn’t he?” Basil asked quietly. “That’s why he was so insanely jealous?”

  Hazel gave a shaky nod. “At first, the oblivion spell seemed to be working well. But over time…I think the fae’s magic poisoned his mind. You know, he wasn’t that way…before.”

  She looked up then, met Basil’s eyes, then Lily’s, so much pain carved into her gentle features. “We were happy. He’d always treated me like his queen, and he was a decent, good man. The spell changed him. Made him suspicious. He started having doubts about you, started looking at me differently. He even asked me directly once, but when I denied having had an affair, he only got angrier. He didn’t believe me. He sensed I was hiding something from him, and I literally could not tell him the truth. The fae magic corrupted his mind, and he got worse and worse. All those things he said…it wasn’t like him. He would never have treated me like that.”

  “And you still loved him, didn’t you?” Lily’s voice was soft.

  Hazel gave a bitter laugh. “Love is a stubborn thing. It can cling to you even when you know it’s wrong, twisted.”

  “Did you try to break the spell the fae put on him?” Basil asked. “So he’d understand what happened?”

  “I thought about it, yes. I researched as much as I could, but fae magic is very different from witch magic. Everything I found describing how to break fae spells said I could possibly do just as much damage as good. And those passages referred to simple fae magic, not one as intricate as an oblivion spell on a human mind. There was a very real risk of me scrambling his brain into madness.”

  She paused, her mouth pressing into a thin line. “You’ve seen what Maeve’s magic did to her father. That’s the kind of damage we’re talking about.”

  Basil cringed. Maeve MacKenna’s powers kicked in when she was eight years old, in an explosion of unmitigated magic so unfettered, so destructive, that it killed both her older sister Moira and her mother—and psychically maimed her father, irrevocably damaging his mind to the point he remained catatonic to this day.

  “Okay,” Lily said, rubbing her hands over her face. “How is it that we never realized Basil is a fae? He has a human energy pattern—”

  She stopped, looked at him, her brows knitting together. “Used to have. It’s…changed. Your aura is…fae now. How…?”

  “Glamour,” Hazel said quietly. “The fae put a glamour on him to mask his identity. She hid his innate magic signature, and made him look more human.”

  “Kind of clumsy,” Basil murmured. When both Lily and Hazel looked at him in question, he explained, “Well, if she had the means to change my appearance, why didn’t she make sure I looked more like Robert?” He gestured toward his blond hair.

  “Ah.” Hazel’s expression vacillated between wry amusement and regret. “At the time the fae met us to do the exchange, Robert’s hair was blond. He’d been dyeing it for a couple of weeks. He was going through a phase…” She sighed. “Well, the fae apparently didn’t know it wasn’t his real hair color, and I guess she figured she could leave your hair naturally blond.”

  Lily kept squinting at him with narrowed eyes. “If he’s fae…” she said, “why aren’t his ears pointed?”

  “What?” Basil touched his ears, felt the usual roundness at the edge. “Hey, you’re right. These are still human.”

  Hazel frowned. “I’m not sure. They should be… Maybe the glamour hasn’t yet lifted all the way.”

  “Hm.” Lily tilted her head, then shook it. “Okay, that’s something we can figure out later. Let’s get back to the basics. Baz is not my brother—not even half?”

  “Not by blood, no.”

  The sting in his chest was the first emotion he felt since the revelation began. It was finally starting to sink in. Lily wasn’t his sister. They weren’t actually twins. The girl he grew up with, the person closest to him, the one who always understood him intuitively—because he thought they shared this special twin bond. It was all a lie.

  And his mom—he glanced at Hazel again—wasn’t actually his mom. The hurt in his chest spread, a crawling sensation of loss and betrayal that tainted every memory of his childhood with doubt and alienation. Was everything a lie? Had she ever truly loved him? Or had she acted out of obligation, to keep protecting the daughter she’d lost—her real child?

  His pulse sped up. His breath came faster and faster, until he was light-headed.

  “Baz…” Hazel reached for him.

  He shot to his feet, so fast the chair screeched in protest, and turned to the French doors to look out at the dark backyard.

  Lily, always so perceptive, so attuned to his feelings, so good at understanding what he needed, muttered something soothing and reassuring to Hazel to keep her from approaching him.

  He watched their reflections in the glass of the doors, how Hazel nodded, took Lily’s hand.

  It hurt all the more.

  Chapter 4

  “Okay then,” Lily went on, her voice at normal level, “but I do have a sister. A twin. And she’s somewhere in Faerie?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know she’s…alive?”

  “I can feel her.” Hazel tapped her chest with her fist. “It’s the same link I have to you, the one all witches in a family have to each other. I’ve felt her all this time…”

  Lily sat back in her chair, her shoulders drooping, her gaze turning inward. “I can’t feel her.”

  Hazel touched her face, pushed one of Lily’s black locks behind her ear. “It’s because you're not a witch any longer.”

  Lily’s flinch was barely noticeable, a tiny reminder that she was still in the process of getting used to her new demon nature. “But, I can't remember ever feeling any link to her before. I mean, with Baz I figured I don’t feel a link because he’s not a witch.” She cringed and shot him an apologetic look before focusing on her mom again. “That’s what you always said, right? But shouldn't I have felt some link to my real sister when I was still a witch?”

  Hazel considered it for a moment. “Maybe you did feel something, but you weren’t aware of it at the time. After all, you didn’t know you had another family member out there. So maybe there was something, but you didn’t recognize it. You weren’t expecting to feel anything.”

  Lily frowned. “I guess…”

  While Lily was still pondering the implications, Basil decided to rejoin the conversation. He turned to the table again and asked, “Why now? Why can you suddenly speak of it after all this time? Why has my glamour been lifted now?"

  Hazel tilted her head to the side and frowned. “
That’s a good question. Come to think of it, the fae would only lift the glamour and the spell on me if she wanted to come back and claim you. That’s the only thing that makes sense. I would have expected her to show up here and then rescind her magic. It doesn’t seem logical for her to remove the glamour and the spell before coming here. Unless…” Hazel's eyes suddenly went wide, her face ashen. “Oh no…”

  “What?” Lily asked.

  “What if…?” Hazel raised her trembling hand to her mouth. “What if the reason the spell and the glamour have been lifted is because the fae who cast them both is dead?”

  Lily and Basil exchanged a glance.

  “Okay…” Basil said slowly. “That would be unfortunate, I guess, because it means she can’t tell me more about my fae family and all that, right?”

  “It’s not just that.” Hazel balled her hand to a fist. “What about Rose?”

  “The who, now?” Lily asked.

  “Your twin sister.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “Right, I haven’t told you yet. I named her Rose, right before the fae took her.”

  Pieces visibly clicked together in Lily’s head. She sat up straighter. “Oh. Of course—if the fae who took her into Faerie and who was responsible for her over there died, then…”

  “…Rose could be in danger,” finished Basil.

  Hazel nodded, rubbed her forehead. “At the very least, it means her fate is uncertain. Before, I could count on the promise of the fae who took her that she would be taken care of. She’d make sure to protect Rose and keep her alive. But now…Rose may have lost the only fae who guaranteed her safety in Faerie.”

  Lily’s face hardened. “We need to get her out.”

  Hazel met her look for a moment, and something passed between mother and daughter. Basil felt that sting again and involuntarily took a small, quiet step back.

  “Yes,” Hazel said, dark eyes glittering with resolve. “We need to find her and bring her home. The fae who took her is dead. I have kept my promise all these years, and now our deal is null and void. I deserve to get my daughter back.” She thought for a few seconds. “We need a fae to take us into Faerie.”

  “Why?” Lily asked.

  “Faerie’s borders are magically sealed, only allowing fae and lower life forms to cross over. Fae can take humans, witches, or otherworld creatures over the border, so we need a fae to grant us passage. They’re just so hard to find outside of Faerie…”

  “Umm, hello? Basil’s a fae? He can take us.”

  Both pairs of eyes focused on him.

  “I’ll do it,” he said, without missing a beat.

  Hazel shook her head. “No, sweetie.”

  The endearment cut something tender within him, leaving behind the same taint that spoiled all the memories of his mom now. Not my mom, not my mom. He clenched his jaw.

  “From all we know,” Hazel continued, “granting passage is not just the physical act of a fae taking non-fae over the border. Some sort of invocation of fae magic is needed, and you…” She didn’t finish, but the message was clear.

  He didn’t know any fae magic. He might possess fae powers now, but he didn’t have the tiniest clue how to use them.

  “Can’t we look it up? Ask around?” Lily put both elbows on the table, leaned forward.

  “There’s nothing in our books about that sort of fae invocation, at least not that I remember. Back when I was looking for a way to break the oblivion spell on Robert, I did intensive research about all things fae magic, not just in our library, but those of other witch families as well. I never found any information about the details of a border crossing invocation.” She rubbed her temples. “No, we’ll need to find another fae who’s willing to take us into Faerie.”

  And it could take days, if not longer. Time Rose might not have, depending on her situation over there.

  “I can ask Alek,” Lily said, “and he can tap his resources through Arawn’s network. Maybe he can point us to a fae, and then Baz can learn along the way.”

  As one of the enforcers of the Demon Lord, Lily’s mate Alek had access to information and contacts among the otherworld community that eluded the witches. Still, even with Alek’s help, finding another fae would be time-consuming.

  I could go alone.

  The thought whispered through him, rising up out of the darker corners of his heart, his mind, where a primitive need sat and festered. All his life, he’d been the odd one out, the rare male born to a witch line, the one without powers, in need of protection. Sure, he’d long shared the position of being the magic-less anomaly with Maeve, whose powers were bound inside her after her lethal outburst at the age of eight, and knowing he wasn’t the only one had helped him get through his darkest hours.

  He once mentioned to Merle, Maeve’s older sister and one of his best friends, that he’d made his peace with his lack of magic. Truth was, a part of him had never gotten over it. Maybe if his family let him contribute more, if they allowed him to participate in their work as much as his human strength enabled him to, he wouldn’t have felt so left out. So coddled.

  But as it was, he had to fight for every scrap of independence and agency along the way. Hazel would even have barred him from the mission to rescue Lily when she was kidnapped a couple of weeks ago if Merle hadn’t stepped up and vouched for him.

  He was tired of having to ask, to beg, to argue for them to accept him in their ranks. Tired of being considered weak and vulnerable.

  Well, he wasn’t that anymore, right? He did have powers now, he just needed to learn how to wield them. What better place to gain knowledge about how to be a fae than in Faerie? He could go look for Rose and discover his powers along the way. If he managed to find her and bring her back, Hazel and the others would have to acknowledge him as their equal.

  Resolve set, he backed away quietly. Hazel and Lily were so busy discussing the details of the rescue mission, they didn’t notice his retreat.

  He decided not to tell them about his plan. Doing so would only trigger the usual arguments, making it harder to get away. They’d never let him go alone. Knowing they had such little faith in him hurt. He should probably be used to it by now, but all these revelations left him raw, his emotions strung like a taut rope, his heart aching.

  They thought he couldn’t do it alone. He’d prove them wrong.

  Sling backpack packed with essentials: Check. Bow: Check. Quiver full of arrows: Check. Half a dozen knives and daggers strapped to his body: Check. Combat gear: Check. Nerves…nerves? And we have a runner.

  Basil sighed, rubbed his sternum over the twin strips of his sling backpack and the quiver, trying to alleviate the pressure there. He had an uneasy feeling it wasn’t caused by the weight he carried. Well, at least not the physical one.

  He’d just finished packing everything together, had pulled on his boots, and was ready to sneak out of his room when the door opened and a petite redhead peeked in.

  Maeve.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but she beat him to it.

  “You’re going alone, aren’t you?” Her voice was still so husky, hadn’t recovered even yet. Probably never would. It had been months since her rescue, and Merle and Hazel had worked all the healing magic on her they were capable of. Some things, though, not even magic could erase. Like the memories she now had to live with for the rest of her life…

  “You heard us?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I always knew you were more.”

  When she gave him a small smile, the vicious scar that ran across her face twisted, a violent reminder of what she’d been through. Despite the best efforts of the healer witches in the community, who were able to minimize or even remove most of the scars on her body, the remnant of the deep cut crossing her face remained. Like the hoarseness from screaming for days on end during her torture.

  He was so proud of her for pushing through, holding her head up high, in defiance of what had been done to her.

  “Well,” he said, “looks like n
either one of us is as powerless as we thought.”

  Maeve looked to the side. “At least you can access your powers.”

  “I don’t know…” He shrugged. “It feels like something has been knocked loose, but it’s not like I suddenly have all this awesome magic at my fingertips. It’s more like a…low-level hum I couldn’t hear before. But I have no idea what to do with it.”

  “You’ll figure it out, I’m sure.”

  “Thanks.”

  Always, she’d believed in him. Unlike his family, and his friends in the witch community, to whom he’d been a walking liability. Even before her abduction, Maeve was quiet, not one to display enthusiasm, but she never made him feel like he was lacking anything.

  Which was probably the reason he had a crush on her for the longest time.

  He never told anyone, not even Lily, because Maeve…Maeve was almost family. He’d grown up with her, and just like he considered Merle a sister, his feelings for Maeve had long been those of a brother for his younger sibling. When it changed…he’d been too confused for a while to act on it, couldn’t bring himself to take a step that would irrevocably alter their relationship and how others perceived them.

  And then—Maeve was kidnapped, held captive for days, tortured…raped. When she came back, when he saw how deep her scars ran—the mental ones, because the physical ones wouldn’t have bothered him—he figured the last thing she wanted to deal with was the revelation that her childhood friend wanted to be more than her big brother. He saw how she flinched in the presence of a male—any male—those tiny tells she couldn’t manage to hide, no matter how much she seemed to be trying to shake it.

  He wouldn’t add to her anxiety, no way, nohow.

  Instead he settled on being there for her in the non-sexual, big brother kind of way she knew and felt comfortable with, and, as the months went by, his feelings for her changed yet again. What had been a desire in its kindling form morphed into something deeper, going beyond the physical, the bond they’d always shared now evolving from big brother-little sister to a more equal footing of…true friends.