See Me Read online

  See Me

  Copyright © 2014 Wendy Higgins

  Published by Wendy Higgins

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

  Image license from Dreamstime.com with the following names: © Aliftin

  Cover design by Carrie Mcrae.

  Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

  https://www.facebook.com/FictionalFormats‎

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Note to reader: Please do not, under any circumstances, change the file format of this book and post it online. That is piracy (stealing) and it breaks my heart. Thank you for your consideration.

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  To the Hornback Zoo ~

  My brother Frank, sister-in-law Heather,

  Davin, Frank Jr., Hanna, Tyler, and Jackson ~

  May the winds be always at your back

  CECELIA MASON HAD NEVER been more frightened. Their infant, Robyn, was fast asleep in the carrier against her chest. Leon squeezed Cecelia’s hand as they entered the Fae realm through a lower portal in the Irish countryside. They hadn’t wanted to bring Robyn into the land of Faerie, but they couldn’t leave her in the U.S.

  Cecelia closed her jacket over the bulge of fabric. A lifetime of service to the unpredictable Fae had taught them not to show emotion or draw attention to themselves. They wore their plainest clothes. Cecelia went without make-up and had pulled her brown waves into a low bun. The couple, human except for the magic imbedded in their blood, cringed as they pushed through the thick barrier of atmosphere between realms.

  A portal guard recognized the Dightheach signatures of the human “helpers” and led them through the vine-covered labyrinth to a clearing. Soft light poured overhead from a sky of pastel swirls and music played like chimes. Cecelia, distrustful of the land’s magnetic pull, braced herself against an onslaught of delectable Fae sensory.

  They were ushered into a gossamer tent lined with flowers that reached and wound around one another in dazzling displays of color. On a bed of petals lounged a female Fae with hair like shimmering cinnamon, eyes as vividly yellow as dandelions. Cecelia recognized the Fae woman as Martineth, the Alpha consort who ran the southern regions of Faerie for the Summer King. At her feet, a handsome human man with lost, fanatic eyes lavished her skin with gentle kisses.

  The Masons were careful not to show their terror at the sight of Martineth. A light sheen of sweat across their brows and dampened palms could not be helped. They stood very still while Martineth’s yellow eyes traveled over them like guinea pigs in a pet shop—possible sources of entertainment. Cecelia, full of new mother ferocity, crossed her arms over her chest to cuddle Robyn closer.

  “Leave me.” Martineth’s voice was lackadaisical as she waved off the human at her feet. He made a pathetic sound and kissed her ankle. She attempted to pull her legs free and swatted at him like a moth, but he mumbled and clung to her, desperate. “Take him,” she ordered the guard.

  The Fae guard lifted the man with a yank and left them alone. Leon kept a straight face and averted his eyes from the King’s consort as he delivered his report of their region in the U.S. over the past year, reciting the numbers of eleven Fae who entered illegally into the earthly realm and the twenty-three human memories that were altered by Leon as a result. The report went better than hoped, faster. To Cecelia’s relief, their business must have bored Martineth; she gave a wide yawn and moved to dismiss them.

  In that moment, a tiny mew rose from the carrier buried under Cecelia’s jacket.

  Cecelia turned to leave. Again, baby Robyn made a noise. This time as a whimper that built into a mild cry.

  Leon cleared his throat as his wife was set to exit. “Good day, my Lady,” he told Martineth, whose head had cocked to the side with curiosity.

  “Stop.” Her voice carried to them like a bell.

  The couple turned their heads, all innocence and nerves.

  Martineth’s voice was a slow drawl. “What was that sound?”

  “I’m sorry?” asked Leon.

  Robyn took that inopportune moment to vocalize again and her parents shared a defeated, horrified glance. Martineth’s eyes were wide as she stared at the wiggling mass against Cecelia’s chest.

  “What have you brought into our land?”

  “It’s only our child,” Cecelia explained in an offhand tone. “Probably needs to be changed. Nasty business. We won’t keep you, my Lady.”

  They turned again, only to be stopped once more by the snap of her clear voice.

  “I have never seen a newly born human. Show me.”

  The Faerie was sitting up now, stray petals floating down from layers of gown. Her inquisitive stare and eager tone made Cecelia tremble on the inside. With slow movements, Cecelia opened her jacket and unclasped the carrier from her shoulder. All grace, the King’s consort stood and glided forward. Robyn, only weeks old, squinted and quieted as the pleasant light washed over her. Cecelia had a sudden fervent wish that Robyn was bald and funny-looking like so many precious babies she’d seen. Instead, the consort admired an inch-plus of wavy chestnut hair, rounded pink cheeks and the sweetest puckered mouth. Chocolate eyes and black lashes blinked at the Faerie. Beauty.

  Martineth’s bright eyes filled with wonder. “So small,” she marveled. “Her skin appears as soft as down.”

  Cecelia inched backward, an animalistic intuition of warning rising up in her. As the Faerie woman raised a perfect, slender hand to the baby’s cheek, Cecelia yanked the child away and all but shouted, “No—don’t touch her!”

  The temperature around them rose as the Faerie’s eyes shone like fire. Her hand froze in mid-air.

  “My Lady,” Leon broke in. “Our human physician told us not to let anyone handle her while she’s so young. Infants are too fragile. Please forgive my wife. Her body and mind are still transitioning from the birth.”

  His demeanor was calm, but his wife recognized thinly veiled panic behind his eyes. She fought for composure when all she wanted to do was run.

  “I’m very sorry, my Lady.” Cecelia pushed out the apology. “I know the touch of a Fae alters a human’s mind. We don’t know how it would affect a newborn. I would hate for her to lose the ability to be of service to the Summer King someday.”

  Martineth studied Cecelia, eyes a swirl of sunshine and heat.

  “I assume you have reported the birth of this child?” the Faerie challenged.

  “Of course, Lady Martineth,” Leon said with respect.

  To fail reporting a Dightheach child would mean death to its parents. Everyone with magical blood was expected to serve.

  After another lo
ng stare at Cecelia and more greedy gazing at the child, the consort tapped her sharp chin. An ominous expression crossed her face, as if an idea were hatching.

  “I can see why you are attached to the child.” The consort leered at the couple and walked a slow circle around them, glimmering hair falling in waves down her back. “She is a thing of beauty.” Martineth stopped in front of Cecelia and peered down at the baby. “Beautiful things have a way of disappearing in the night.”

  The threat bolted through Cecelia with swift understanding. Her knees threatened to buckle as Leon spoke with hardened care.

  “What is it that you wish from us, my Lady?”The consort chuckled. “I have a future mate for her—a binding which will greatly please the King.”

  As a proud, wicked grin enhanced the Faerie’s fiery eyes, a burden of dread settled onto Cecelia’s shoulders for her daughter’s future. A future which was now as good as sealed.

  THE END OF HIGH school was bittersweet. My sister and I drove home in the dark from a graduation party to our house in Great Falls, Virginia, a woodsy town of hills and cliffs nestled between cities of concrete. I was so glad to have Cassidy. Even now she sensed my mood as I pulled into our driveway and cut the engine. I stared absently at the porch swing illuminated by the motion-censored light. We’d shared years of secrets on that wooden swing.

  “Tonight was fun, huh?” Cass asked carefully.

  I nodded. “Yeah. Fun, but… weird too.”

  “Yeah,” she whispered. And then to cheer me she added, “I can’t believe the graduating football players streaked. I did not need to see all that. My ears still hurt from everyone screaming.”

  I snorted.

  I’d made some great friends, especially my soccer teammates, but I couldn’t tell them about my family or the Fae, or the real reason I was going to Ireland tomorrow while they were all headed for post-graduation Beach Week.

  “I can’t believe it’s time for you to go already.” Cassidy stared at the house. “No more sneaking to D.C. with my big sis and glamouring ourselves in fancy dresses.” I had to smile at the memory. We hadn’t bothered doing our hair or make-up that night. We used our magical glamour to sneak into a club and make us look done up. We’d been exhausted after an hour of dancing from the effort of keeping up fake appearances.

  I took her hand and my heart tightened with our inevitable separation.

  “Let’s not get sad,” I told her. “Come on.”

  It was midnight when we let ourselves in. Mom and Dad’s luggage sat next to the door, ready to go. Our parents lounged on the couch, Dad reading. If this were a normal night they’d have been in bed hours ago. Mom had apparently been reading, too, but had fallen asleep with her head on his lap and a book on her chest. At the sound of our footsteps, she sat up and pushed back her dark hair.

  “There’s my girls,” Dad said, jovial despite the late hour. He put his book on the coffee table. “Tell us all about the party.”

  We sat on the couch across from them.

  “It was okay,” I told him, trying to hide my sadness.

  Tension crowded around us. We were all probably thinking the same thing: This is our last night with me at home. How weird. I didn’t want to think about it. Mom, ever the peacemaker, cleared her throat.

  “You said good-bye to all your friends then?” She’d been away from her homeland of Ireland for twenty years but her voice still held a soft lilt and inflection, which I’d always envied.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  Cassidy stretched her mouth wide for a loud yawn, not bothering to cover her mouth. It was contagious—I yawned next, then Mom.

  “Look at my tired girls. We should call it a night,” Dad said. “Big day tomorrow. Thankfully we can sleep on the plane, huh?”

  Nervousness tightened around me like twine.

  “I hope you both finished packing,” Mom said.

  “Mine is pretty much done,” I told her. “I just have to bring it down.”

  “Mine’s almost done,” Cass said, yawning again.

  Mom shook her head and focused on me. “How are you, Robyn? Are you ready for this?”

  I gave her a reassuring smile, despite the tightening sensation. “I’m fine. Ready to see what Ireland has in store for me.”

  “Well, come here.” Dad stood, tall and imposing, and opened his arms. The four of us huddled together for a group hug. Mom was shorter than me now. I’d outgrown her last year, and it still felt strange to be the tallest female in the embrace.

  We said our goodnights, and then shuffled upstairs. I stood in my bedroom feeling a wave of nostalgia. This room held so many memories. Would I be back again to see the rows of trophies on the shelves? Everything from t-ball to All-State Soccer and this year’s Girls’ Varsity Soccer MVP. Two large corkboards were tacked full of pictures, ticket stubs for movies, school dances, and sporting events, even a few newspaper snippets about my teams.

  I went to my walk-in closet and pulled out the familiar, large plastic storage bin. I placed the bin next to my luggage at the foot of my bed, then sat down cross-legged on the carpet and opened it.

  Staring up at me was ten years worth of memorabilia collected to give McKale when it was time to meet.

  The mysterious McKale. My “betrothed.” A fancy word for “engaged.”

  McKale was from another family of ancient magic. Mom explained that his people had only been able to produce male children for many, many years now. I was told they needed a special, magical girl to bind herself with one of their special, magical boys to ensure the continuation of their family’s bloodline. It sounded extraordinary to me as a child—like I was a princess—special, chosen.

  It took a few years to realize the purpose of the union was to have babies.

  My friends at school would have been appalled. They all thought I was going off to college overseas. The term “prearranged marriage” was thought of as something from the old days, or something that other societies did. I should have been terrified or indignant, but the way Mom presented my future eleven years ago made me feel important and useful. Arranged relationships were common among Dightheach. Normal.

  On the night I learned about McKale, Mom told me his clan valued gifts. At six years of age, I remember thinking it was weird that his family was called a “clan,” but cool that they liked presents.

  I ran my finger over a paddle and ball set I’d gotten at a birthday party when I was seven. I could never get the stupid toy to work for me, but maybe McKale could. That had been the first gift. My favorite was the soccer ball. I smiled at its shiny black and white surface, remembering when Dad landed tickets to the World Cup.

  A light knock came as I wrapped tape around the lid.

  “Come in,” I called. My family knew about the gift bin, but it was still embarrassing, this imaginary relationship I had with a stranger. But he wouldn’t be a stranger for much longer, would he?

  I shivered with anticipation.

  Cassidy walked in and made herself comfortable on my bed while I moved my travel stuff next to the bedroom door and changed into my pajamas.

  “How many hours of footage do you think you have?” From her laying position Cass inclined her head toward the video camera on the nightstand that I’d used to record messages for McKale over the past four years.

  “I don’t know. A lot,” I said.

  “Mm.” Cassidy chewed her lip. She was unusually quiet as she lay there. I sat down and stretched my legs out beside her.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  The invisible band around my chest yanked tighter. “You guys are coming, too. We’ll get to spend the whole summer together before you go back home.”

  “Not really. I mean, I’ll be there, but you’re going to be busy getting to know him.” Her jealous tone surprised me. She’d always taken my engagement in stride. I began braiding the silky brown hair at her temple.

  “I promise to make time for you, chickadee.” I
wondered if she’d ever outgrow the childhood nickname. I hoped not.

  “It’s gonna be strange next year at school without you.”

  “I know.”

  Cassidy would be a senior. It was a huge high school and we’d both been active in sports and clubs. Cass was even junior class president this past year. But I understood. No amount of friends or activities could replace what we shared. And neither could a man.

  She turned her face away and whispered low, “Please don’t forget about me.”

  “Hey.” I gasped and pulled her face back to me. It killed me when her eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried.

  “If you ever say something like that again, I’ll kick your butt,” I said. She sniffled and gave me a small smile. “I mean it, Cass. There is no man and no distance that could ever make me forget about you, or stop needing you. I’ll do whatever I have to to keep in touch. And don’t forget about begging Mom and Dad to study abroad next year.”

  That idea always cheered us. There was still a shroud of mystery about McKale’s clan and what it’d be like there. Mom made it sound like there was no technology. I couldn’t even send him letters over the years because mail wasn’t delivered there. If Cass could study abroad in Ireland it would make any situation more livable for me.

  “I wish he could come here instead,” she said.

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Cassidy wiped her eyes. She nuzzled her head closer to my leg and I continued braiding her hair.

  “If he’s not a good guy… If he doesn’t appreciate you—”

  “Don’t think like that. Everything is going to be fine.”

  I’d often been filled with gratitude that this was my fate and not hers. Cassidy was too free-spirited to handle something like this.

  Her smooth hair slid through my fingers and she closed her eyes. The thought of my predicament dampening her spirit broke my heart.

  “I wish I could stay here with you longer,” I said.

  “No, you don’t,” Cass said without opening her eyes. Her voice was still soft. “You want to go be with him.”