Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 244

Chapter 244: Lisa: Seriously, It’s Just Weird
LISA

At the mention of Ava’s name, my heart clenches. God, I hope she’s okay. I haven’t seen her since…

I push the memories away, focusing on the present. “What does Ava have to do with this?”

“Everything,” he says simply. “Your friend is at the center of events that could reshape our future, Lisa. She needs allies. People she can trust. People like you.”

I shake my head, too confused. I’m missing huge chunks of the picture.

“Sorry, I don’t understand. What events? What’s happening to Ava? Isn’t she safe with Lucas?”

The old man sighs, suddenly looking every bit his advanced age. “She is safe enough, I suppose. But the danger is always present, waiting for the right moment to strike. Decades, if not centuries, of planning have come to fruition, and we’re only just learning of it. For now, I will have to apologize as we leave you in the dark a little longer. Just know that you’re in a safe place.”

“So why tell me anything at all?” I demand, my patience wearing thin. “Why not just leave me in the dark?”

“Because I don’t need a human gallivanting off to what she thinks is freedom, only to be snatched up once again.” He peers over his spectacles. “You thought of escape at least once, didn’t you?”

My cheeks heat a little, even as my chin lifts. The stubbornness deep within me is coming back to life, at least a little certain that I’m safe enough to snap back. “Wouldn’t you, in my shoes?”

“Indeed.” He chuckles, sipping at his tea again, with the elegant air of a gentleman. Someone you’d see on those TV shows about posh royalty in England. “Hopefully I’ll have a little more clear information for you soon enough, to prepare you in the times ahead.”

I laugh, the sound bitter even to my own ears. “Prepared? For what? More kidnappings? Torture? Sexual assault? You know, in the human world, I was never kidnapped. And even Ava has never been kidnapped in the human world. But add werewolves to the mix?” I snap my fingers. “Kidnapped. Twice! And don’t get me started on the assault rates in werewolves compared to humans. I thought humans were bad, but between the wolves and vampires…”

The old man’s face softens with sympathy. “I am truly sorry for what you’ve endured, Lisa. No one should have to suffer as you have. But I promise you, what I offer is not more pain. It’s a chance to make a difference. To protect your friend and perhaps save many lives.”

I want to scoff at his words, to dismiss them as an old man’s delusions. But something in his tone, in the earnestness of his gaze, gives me pause. Despite my suspicion of this desperate desire to trust him, I consider his words.

“What do you mean?” I ask cautiously.

The old man’s smile returns, warm and encouraging. “You, my child, are Fae-blessed. This gives you a little edge when dealing with wolves and vampires.” He points a finger in my direction. “Not as much as being Fae, of course. But for a human like you, this can change your life.”

Again, with that phrase. Fae-blessed.

Right now, it sounds more like a curse than anything positive.

“What does that even mean? I heard Marisol say it. My captor. She even showed me…” My words stop abruptly when I realize I’m about to gesture at my breast in front of this man. “Um, a mark on my body. The vampire looked for it, too. He was happy when he saw it.”

He nods. “Yes. The Mad Prince has an obsession with Fae-blessed humans. It’s a unique constitution found in the human world. Do you truly not know anything about it? Have your parents not spoken to you about its implications?”

“My parents?” Startled, I point at my chest. “You mean, mine?”

He nods.

“No. They’ve never said anything. They’re human. Just human.”

“Interesting. Very interesting. Very well, child.” The old man leans forward, his eyes gleaming with an intensity that makes me want to shrink back. But I hold my ground, determined to get some answers at last.

“Fae-blessed humans,” he begins, his voice low and measured, “are those who were given a second chance at life through a bargain with the Fae.”

My brow furrows. “A second chance? What do you mean?”

He takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he’s about to say. “They were stillborn babies, Lisa. Infants who never took their first breath.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Stillborn? Is he trying to say that I came into this world dead?

My mind reels, trying to process this information. I think of my mother, of the love and warmth I’ve always felt from her. Had she known? Had she made some sort of deal?

“Their mothers,” the old man continues, his voice gentle now, “in their grief and desperation, make a bargain with a High Fae Priestess. They offer their own souls for their child’s life.”

I stare at him. “Their soul?” So my mother’s what, a zombie? That doesn’t seem right. None of this makes sense. He’s fucking with me. He has to be.

He holds up a hand, as if to calm me. “I see what you’re thinking. The bargain doesn’t always result in immediate death. Your mother is still alive, isn’t she?”

I nod. Of course she is.

“The exchange isn’t about immediate sacrifice,” he explains. “It’s more of a… contract. When your mother does eventually pass away, her soul will feed the High Fae Priestess who made the bargain.”

My stomach churns at the thought. The idea of my mother’s soul being consumed by some otherworldly being is horrifying. But then another thought strikes me.

“Wait,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “If I was stillborn… does that mean I’m not really… human?”

The old man’s expression softens. “You are very much human, Lisa. The Fae magic brought you to life, but it didn’t change your fundamental nature. You’re simply enhanced. For every child brought back to life, a tiny piece of a High Fae Priestess’ soul lies within them.”

Enhanced. The word echoes in my head, bringing with it a mix of emotions I can’t quite sort out. Fear, confusion, a strange sort of wonder, and underneath it all, a simmering anger.

“Why?” I demand, my voice stronger now. “Why would the Fae do this? What do they get out of it, besides… besides feeding on souls?”

The old man sighs, leaning back in his chair. “The motivations of the Fae are complex and often inscrutable, even to us gnomes. But from what we understand, Fae-blessed humans serve as a sort of bridge between our world and theirs. You have an innate connection to Fae magic, even if you can’t wield it directly.”

“And this vampire—the Mad Prince? Why does he care about Fae-blessed humans?”

The old man’s expression darkens. “The Mad Prince has an obsession with them. He once believed that by consuming the essence of a Fae-blessed human, he can gain access to Fae magic himself. Several have died in his pursuit of that power, and he never succeeded. But he gains something from their blood, even if it isn’t Fae magic. It’s how he grew his power.”

A shudder runs through me as I remember the time he visited me. The way the Mad Prince had touched me. The way he’d been infuriated at my body’s lack of passion, like that made a difference.

I guess it really did.

What a freak.

I feel dirty even thinking about it, and suddenly want nothing more than another shower. Maybe twenty showers.

“So, what are you trying to say? If all this is true—” which it can’t be, because my parents are normal humans and definitely have never talked to some High Fae Priestess or whatever, “—then what is your plan with me?”

“Training,” he says promptly, his eyes gleaming. “A Fae-blessed human has grown up with technology and has an affinity for magic, though they can never wield it. You’re the perfect medium for magitech.”

“Magitech?” I echo. “What the fuck is that?”

He gives me a stern look, and I shift in my seat. “Excuse my language, sir.”

Damn. It’s like swearing in front of your grandmother.

“Magical technology. Gnomes, unfortunately, have no gift for magic. We can see it, but we can’t utilize it in any form. And very few Fae use technology, because they have their magic. You, Lisa, are the answer. Technologically inclined, with magical affinity.” He smiles. “I have a few things in mind for you.”

The way he looks at me is not predatory, like a wolf in front of meat. It’s more like… when my mom comes into my room with an outfit she adores, hoping I’m going to love it.

Beaming and way too invested in something I have the feeling I’m going to hate with every fiber of my being.

“Joy,” I say weakly, not sure how else to respond.