“Years ago, a task force was put together to bind the powers of the Furies. As you know from your research, there are three sisters. Your mother is considered not as threatening, and her ‘less than’ status has made her worse than her more threatening sisters.”
“She’s the least threatening?”
Ryder nods.
“Please don’t introduce me to my aunts.”
“Meg rebelled against her family by cavorting with men and was particularly proud of seducing Mercy. But after she tossed you away, Mercy went on a rampage. Since he was head of the Committee at that time, and holds more power in the realms than the Furies ever did, he had a great deal of say in keeping gods and goddesses in line. A task force was convened and the Furies had to either voluntarily stop exacting justice, or they’d be locked up in a certain hell dimension. Since the Furies are mainly responsible for the prisoners in that particular hell ending up there in the first place, they swore to abide by the pact.”
I shudder and rub my bare arms, trying to will the goosebumps away.
“When Meg discovered you’re still alive, she realized there was a loophole. If she can get you to fall in line with her, she can use your Fury for her cause. This was a loophole no one was able to foresee, since everyone thought you were dead.”
“And now that I’m alive?”
He takes a deep breath, studying something over my shoulder. When he meets my gaze again, the intensity of his stare runs through me.
“There’s danger in letting your Fury loose.”
“What do you mean? I might hurt someone?”
“Someone might hurt you.” He stands and resumes his pacing.
“Who might hurt me? How?” He remains quiet, stoic. I leap to my feet, following him as he paces. “You have to tell me.”
He turns abruptly; our bodies collide. I jump back before he can burn me any deeper than he already has.
“I’ve already told you more than I’m supposed to.”
“That’s not fair. Am I supposed to figure it out when the danger happens? What then?”
“You already know there is danger in letting your Fury loose. Learn to control it so it, and she, can’t control you.”
“You are incredibly frustrating.”
I grate my teeth and chew on the side of my tongue in an effort to keep quiet.
I don’t need convincing that the Fury is dangerous to my existence. The adrenaline rush from the power surge is unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and I’m sure it could become addictive.
Chapter Forty-three
“I’ll go get your mother, bring her here so you can talk to her.”
“Are you insane? She’d totally freak. I need to tell her in person.” I swallow. “If I can figure out how.”
Ryder puts his hands on my shoulders. His warmth penetrates my shirt and burns me inside.
“Be yourself.”
“Oh, she’d love to see the snakes for herself, I’m sure.”
“That’s not who you are. That’s a part of you you’re learning to contain. The Fury doesn’t define you, it isn’t your essence.”
“And what if it is my essence? What if the Fury is what I’m meant to become in some sick, twisted way? What if any good that ever existed in me has been absorbed by this monster?” Tears fill my eyes and I blink them away, turning so he can’t see.
“Felicia, your mother knows you better than anyone. No matter what you tell her, no matter what she sees, you will still be Felicia. And you are full of good.”
His footsteps echo down the hall, and I assume he’s leaving me.
Then his voice is next to my ear and his arms wrap around my waist. His warm breath tickles the tiny hairs on my neck. My knees buckle and he holds me close.
“The Fury is yours to control, and it’s your destiny to choose. You are full of Mercy, more than anyone else in this realm, other than maybe Lord Mercy himself. You have gifts that no one even understands yet. You yourself are a gift.”
And then he releases me and disappears, and I’m left to wonder if my time tonight with Ryder was one big fantasy. But his scent lingers on my shirt and in my hair, and I know he was really here.
Chapter Forty-four
Ryder helps me sneak into my room before dawn, then departs without a word. His gaze reassures me and fills me with confidence, so even though my stomach is filled with little people bouncing on a trampoline and my mouth is full of cotton and my heart absolutely bleeds, I have a tiny bit of faith that things will be okay.
After getting dressed in a school-appropriate outfit, I saunter down the stairs and into the kitchen just as I would any other morning before school. I try to be nonchalant, but my mom is sitting at the table with my yearbook, a phone book, a notebook, black shadows under her eyes, and new lines around her mouth. I want to vomit.
I dash into the kitchen and she jumps up before I utter a word, tears streaming down her face. She pulls me into a tight embrace, and it’s not long before I feel her tears seeping through to my shoulder.
“Mom?”
I want her to believe I’ve been here all night, but something tells me she’s not going to buy it. I consider lying like my friends would. I could tell her I came in after she was asleep. But her haggard look tells me she was up all night waiting, and I’ve already done enough damage to our previously close relationship.
“Sweet pea, are you okay? Where have you been? I’ve been calling everyone and no one has seen you in days!”
She studies my face, then my body, searching for injuries.
“I’m fine, Mom.” My voice squeaks.
“Where on earth have you been? The police haven’t even been able to find a single clue, other than that those two boys are gone, too. Did they hurt you? I’ll kill them!”
“No, I’m okay. Really. Ryder helped me get back here, actually.” Crap, I hadn’t even considered the fact that the police would more than likely become involved.
She stares at me, studying my face to figure out what I’m hiding. Her fists unclench at her side.
“Felicia, I need you to tell me the truth. Jenny called me.”
“What did she call for?” I’m taken aback by this revelation. Why was she interfering?
“She was worried.” I snort, and my mom gives me one of her looks. “She said Ryder was giving her a ride home because Jenny’s boyfriend had her cornered in the school, trying to force her to do things she wasn’t ready to do, and Ryder defended her. But she said something in him changed on the way home, and after he dropped her off, he raced away. When she heard you were missing, she was worried he might be involved, since you two have apparently been inseparable at school.”
He defended her. From her boyfriend. Then gave her a ride home. That explains so much and is so much more like Ryder than what I was imagining.
But oh, no—that last part makes Ryder look really bad in my mom’s eyes, I’m sure.
“Did he do anything to hurt you? Tell me the truth. You won’t be in trouble.”
“No, Mom! Absolutely not. Ryder is a perfect gentleman.” Almost too perfect, but I don’t elaborate.
“I know there’s a whole lot you’re not telling me. We are going to sit at that table until you decide to ’fess up.”
“You’re right. We need to talk.”
She must have been expecting a fight, because she slumps like a deflated balloon as we head over to the table.
I close my eyes and try to relax, imagining a sunny place with fluffy white clouds and an ocean breeze.
“You know how I was found as an infant, and no one could figure out where I came from?”
My mom nods, and her puffy red eyes are cloudy again.
“Sweet pea, is this about trying to find your birth parents?”
“I found them.”
She’s silent for a moment. Shocked, I bet. Far from what she was expecting.
“Oh, honey. I would have helped you! Your dad and I both would have helped you. We’ve tried to find them over th
e years, but with nothing to go on, it was an impossible search.” She pauses, then stiffens and straightens, her hands flat on the solid surface of the table. “Wait, how did you have any clue where to start? Are you sure you didn’t meet a scam artist, someone trying to fool you, to prey on your vulnerability? Give me their names. I need to research these people.”
I place my hand over hers and notice for the first time how her hands are starting to take on the look of an aging woman.
“There’s more I have to tell you, and you’re going to freak out.”
“Honey, I’m so glad to have you back and safe, nothing could drive me away. I love you more than anything.” She stops, her throat clogging. “Please believe that.”
I watch the path of her tear as it winds along the lines of her face, ending at the corner of her mouth. She squeezes my hands, and I fear they may crack, but I don’t pull away because I owe my mom everything.
“Remember that thing with the snakes?”
Confusion ripples over her expression, but then she nods, and I know she’s thinking I belong in therapy again. Maybe even on meds.
She waits for me to continue.
“My biological mother is a Fury.”
“Is that slang for something?”
“No. Hold on.” I cross the room to grab her laptop, then bring it to the table. After a few clicks, pictures of Furies light up the computer screen, and though they are not super- accurate depictions, they are the best I have at the moment.
“Honey, that’s a mythology website. Mythology is not real, it’s all based on myth.” The words trickle out, and she sounds a bit removed from them. Distant.
“That’s what I thought, too. But, Mom, when I was having those fits of rage, this happened to me. I had snakes growing out of my head. And bloody tears. It’s crazy, I know. But it’s real. I tried to convince myself otherwise, but then I met the woman who threw me away. She’s a Fury. True story.” I cross my heart and hold my fingers up in a “scouts honor” salute, just like I did when I was young and innocent and she could believe in me.
She stares at me, and I babble to fill the silence.
“Trust me, I wish I could be normal and tell you I’ve been out on a drinking binge or smoking crack or something, anything else. But this is a part of me, something I didn’t even know existed.”
I pace around the room, taking in the eclectic mix of country and contemporary style, the mismatched curtains, the worn furniture. All the imperfect details that make this home, a home filled with the creative joy of my mother. The fading, finger-painted hand-prints taped to the cabinets, the edges yellowing and curling in the corners. The basket of paper flowers I gave my mom for Mother’s Day many years ago, collecting dust on the counter. Remembrances I haven’t noticed for years.
“I want you to be a part of this, Mom. I want you to meet my biological father, and maybe he can help you understand this.”
Still silence. I try to read her face, but she’s always been way better at reading me. Emotions dance across her features, subtle as a light breeze on the surface of a placid lake, and I can’t identify them.
“I have to tell you, though. The biological mother is crazy. Insane. I don’t want you to meet her. But my biological father is kind of cool. He’s a Mercy, which basically means what it sounds like. Total opposite of Fury, I guess. And I’m both.”
I drop into a chair. She still hasn’t said anything, and I’m all babbled out. Maybe I should have had Ryder bring her to me, instead. It would have been a crash course in understanding, but obviously I’m no professor.
I draw hearts on the table with my finger as I search my mind for a way to prove this to her. I could allow my Fury to emerge, but I’m not angry and am a little afraid of what I’d do, since the Fury has been getting stronger and stronger and I’m not exactly myself when it’s free.
“Mom? Please say something.”
She doesn’t, but she glides over to me, pulls me up from the chair, and hugs me so tight I think my eyes are going to pop out. I hug her back tighter.
When she finally pulls away and I can breathe again, the shining in her eyes stuns me.
“I always knew you were special.”
Chapter Forty-five
“You believe me?”
“Don’t look so incredulous. Of course I believe you. You’re my daughter. Whatever is going on now will make sense eventually.”
“Will it?”
She leads me to the living room couch, then pulls me onto her lap. I feel ridiculously out of place in this position; I’m practically as tall as she is and haven’t sat on her lap in years. But I snuggle into her like a newborn kitten and soak up the comfort I’ve been missing since this whole thing started.
I’m not sure how long she holds me like that, but I’m sure I’m late for school. Amazing how much that would have bothered me a month ago.
A knock on the door startles us and I jump up to see who’s there. Mom follows close behind.
We let Ryder in, and he nods to my mom in familiar acknowledgment. She smiles, but seems more reserved than normal.
“Coffee?”
“That would be great.”
Ryder follows my mother into the kitchen and neither of them acts as if there’s anything strange about him showing up during first period of classes.
After a moment of hanging back in the living room, I join them at the table. My mom prepares a mug of hot cocoa for me. The chocolaty goodness sets me at ease immediately.
Mom and Ryder sip at their coffee in silence.
“So tell me about your role in all this, Ryder.” Her stern look of steel drives into him, and I’m shocked at my mom turning into mama bear so abruptly.
He appears unscathed by her tone. He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table.
“I was sent by Mercy to protect your daughter.”
“Protect her from what?”
“From the threat of her biological mother. And from showing her own emerging Fury to the world. That’s a secret that needs to be guarded for her own protection.”
“What threat does her mother pose?”
“She wants to use Felicia’s Fury to exact justice and vengeance on humans, since she’s no longer capable of using her own.”
I’m amazed at the lack of emotional response in this exchange. My mom grills, Ryder answers. Nothing held back, no beating around the bush.
“And her father, this Mercy fellow. Does he pose a threat?”
“No. He’s grateful to you and your husband for taking Felicia in and raising her so well. He never would have cast her out the way her mother did, but he also knows that she now belongs with you. He does offer her a place in his realm if she chooses.”
My mom leaps up, pushing back so fast her chair goes flying, clattering across the ceramic floor tiles.
“My daughter will not be going anywhere.”
“Mom, chill. No one said I’m going anywhere.”
“Mercy only means to offer protection. If Felicia is to stay here, I will stay, also.”
“How do you protect her? You’re a boy still.”
“It’s true that I’m young. But I’m a Knight of Mercy, fully inducted and trained, and I’m able to assist Felicia in maintaining control of her Fury. I can also help with clouding the minds of anyone who sees her Fury erupt, in case of accidental exposure.”
“What?” I interrupt, blood rushing to my face. “So Zane was telling the truth? You really did erase people’s memories of the snakes and stuff to make them think I was crazy?”
My mom crosses her arms over her chest. Ryder sits back and runs his hand through his hair, his calm demeanor eroding.
“Not exactly. I cloud their memory so they don’t recall the snakes and such, but I allow them to keep the integrity of the memory for two reasons. One, because it’s the philosophy of Mercy that people learn from their mistakes, and that includes having to live with the consequences of their behavior.” He pauses, looking more unsure of himself t
han I’ve ever seen him.
“And two?” My mom and I speak in unison.
“I believe the causes you’ve chosen to fight for are worthy causes. I didn’t want to make anyone forget that you stood up for what you believed in.”
Warmth rushes through me at both his words and the through-the-lashes look he gives me. I’ve never seen him so vulnerable, and before I can fully enjoy it, he erects the wall around him that makes him appear so strong and steady.
“So what’s next?” My mom bends over to pick up the chair she knocked over, but Ryder gets to it before she can. He holds the chair away from the table, gesturing for her to sit, then slides the chair—and my mom—closer to the table.
“What’s next is I get to school before I get any further behind.”
“Is that a good idea?” Mom looks at Ryder, which royally annoys me.
“Hello? Remember me? Felicia, the good student? The one who has already done enough damage for one school year? I am capable of making my own decisions still, you know.”
Ryder’s imposing form hovers near me as I gather a notebook from the desk in the dining room. The gentle shuffle of my mom’s slippers warns me that she’s approaching.
She hands me my backpack, still heavy and now covered with dirt stains. I pick a brown pine needle out of the zipper and send her a sorrowful look of thanks.
Tears well in her eyes, and she brushes some loose dirt off the backpack.
“The police found this in the woods.” She croaks out the words, but I feel like I’m the one who’s choking. “Looks like everything is in there.”
I swing the pack over one shoulder and reach out to hug my mom.
“See you after school.”
I wiggle out of her embrace and swallow my emotion. I can’t imagine the horror Mom must have endured when they found my backpack in the woods, and no sign of me. I did that to her, and it will take a long time to help her move past it.
Ryder follows me in silence. At least I’ll get to school with one friendship intact, even if Ryder isn’t exactly a friend.
“Wait, sweet pea. I forgot to give you this.”
Mom hands me a folded paper. I open it up and smile at the crayon drawing of a great big sun, a small child in a bright red shirt holding hands with a brown-haired girl, and flowers almost as big as the people sprouting from the grass by their feet. Sloppily written words spell out, “I love you and miss you, Miss Felicia. Please feel better soon so we can play.”