I didn’t stop to wonder why it seemed so important that I bring both boys closer to me, it just seemed natural. For Bran, because he was so kind and self-sacrificing. And for Lachlan, because I could see past his façade of sarcastic nonchalance to the pain underneath. He, too, was lacking a family. He also needed love. And he had taken the horrible pain of removing my geas and hadn’t stopped until my true form was revealed.
Not that I thought much of my new form, to be honest. It still felt so strange to look so completely different. But I had to admit it was better to be blindingly beautiful than hideously ugly. Either way, I was doubtless going to be getting a lot more unwanted attention.
Right now, though, the only person I was worried about noticing my new look was my mom. What was she going to think when she saw me?
I guessed I was about to find out.
“Come on, boys,” I said, nodding at Bran and Lachlan. “Let’s go.”
Bran made an “after you” gesture and Lachlan said, “Lead the way, little one.”
Together, we left Bran’s house and headed for mine.
I just hoped my mom wouldn’t scream or faint when she saw me.
37
All the way home, I was rehearsing what to tell my mom—how I was going to explain the sudden change in my appearance and everything that had happened to me. I was even worried that she might not know me, I looked so different. But as it turned out, no explanation was necessary.
My mom was waiting by the front door of our apartment building—which housed only eight units, four on one side and four on the other—with a worried look on her face. She was puffing away on a cigarette which glowed red in the dim light. A litter of cigarette butts in the gravel at her feet proved she’d been chain smoking while she waited for me.
The minute she saw me, she dropped her cigarette, rushed forward and threw her arms around my neck. Squeezing me tight, she enveloped me in the scent of second-hand smoke and Red Door perfume.
“Oh, Emma!” she cried. “I was so worried!”
“I’m really sorry, Mom,” I said awkwardly. I was taller than her now and I had to bend down for her to hug me. “I’ve had such a weird night,” I told her.
“I can tell.” She pulled back and studied my face in the moonlight. “Oh dear,” she sighed. “I was afraid this day would come. You look exactly like your father.”
“I do?” I looked at her in shock. She had always said that my dad was the best-looking guy she’d ever seen but when I asked her to describe him, she had always been vague. And there were no pictures of him, either—anywhere.
Mom nodded.
“Well, except for the hair. I still remember how he looked when he brought you to me. He—Oh!” She stepped back, putting a hand over her mouth as though to hide her blunder. But it was too late.
“Mom?” I looked at her uncertainly. “When he brought me to you?”
Her eyes got wide.
“Emma, I didn’t mean to tell you like this! I swear it!”
“Tell me what?” I asked flatly, though I had a feeling I already knew.
“Emma, honey…” She put a hand on my arm, her eyes big and pleading. “I love you so much but…I’m not your real mother. You were adopted.”
38
“Here—sit down and just breathe,” Bran murmured in my ear, as he got me settled in the middle of the sagging, second-hand couch in the middle of our tiny living room.
“It’s all right, little one,” Lachlan said softly. He sat on my left and Bran sat on my right—maybe they were trying to offer me emotional support. I was grateful for that, but at the moment I wasn’t feeling any emotion but shock.
“Adopted,” I whispered. The word tasted strange and bitter on my tongue—like a pill I was trying to swallow but couldn’t quite get down. “I’m adopted.”
“I should have told you when you were little.” My mother was pacing up and down the living room, another lit cigarette glowing between her fingers as she gestured. “All the books say you should, but your father told me you would be in danger if you ever found out the truth about yourself.”
“The truth?” I looked up at her. “What truth? What about me, Mom?”
I wondered if I should still call her that, but honestly, that was still how I thought of her. After all, she had raised me and loved me and taken care of me—just because we weren’t related by blood didn’t mean I didn’t love her.
Although I was feeling pretty confused and upset right now.
“Ms. Plunkett, Emma is clearly Fae,” Bran said to my mom.
“High Sidhe by all indications,” Lachlan added. “But maybe she has some other blood in her lineage as well? I only ask because she has shown extraordinary magical talent.”