Table of Contents

heartsways - The Seventh Way: Honesty

LOST GIRL - BO/LAUREN

“Ways To Tell You I’m Sorry” series

The Seventh Way: Honesty

heartsways

Title: Ways To Tell You I’m Sorry - The Seventh Way: Honesty

Author: heartsways

Rating: NC–17

Fandom: Lost Girl

Pairing: Bo/Lauren

Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for–profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

Summary: Lauren has some news for Bo, both good and bad…

Author’s Note: Thanks for the awesome beta and advice. Truly appreciated.

The Seventh Way: Honesty

heartsways

“Gotta tell ya, Doc, you’re looking kinda frazzled.” Standing back from the door, Kenzi cast a cursory glance over Lauren and watched as the doctor walked past her and into the shambolic house where she and Bo lived. As the door swung shut, Kenzi turned to view Lauren with a more intense gaze, narrowing her eyes and taking in the somewhat ruffled demeanor of the doctor. Being involved with a human wasn’t what she would have chosen for Bo, especially if the Succubus’ recent moods had been anything to go by. And being involved with Bo seemed to be taking its toll on the doctor, too, judging from her current countenance of frowning impatience. Ever since Lauren had wandered back into Bo’s life, the Succubus had been increasingly temperamental and most of that, Kenzi thought, was due to the fact that Bo hadn’t fed for days.

Of course, the rest of Bo’s mood swings were probably to do with Lauren herself and the messed up sort of relationship they were trying to have. Kenzi didn’t trust the doctor as far as she could throw her – a thought which had actually occurred to her on more than one occasion in their recent past. And if Kenzi had been able to match some of her thoughts with actions, Lauren might have found herself sliding down a wall in great pain until she got a clue and steered clear of Bo. Someone who worked as closely with The Ash as Lauren did wasn’t to be relied upon or confided in.

Kenzi didn’t know much about Fae politics – and really, why would she ever want to? – but didn’t much like what little she had gleaned from being around them. Their notion of honor was flawed and seemed to have no form or fairness, in her eyes. When it came to honor among thieves, Kenzi liked to think that she wrote the rule book. Whatever book the Fae used was redundant in her eyes because it appeared that they did what they liked and followed none of the basic tenets that she considered acceptable or appropriate. And they did it all under the name of “Fae law” – or, at least, that was the excuse they used to carry out all sorts of heinous acts. Kenzi used to think that humans were the cruelest creatures on the planet, but lately, she’d begun to think otherwise.

Looking at Lauren now, Kenzi folded her arms over her chest and pursed her lips dubiously. She wasn’t sure Lauren even had a rule book, Fae or otherwise. That alone was reason enough for the distrust that inhibited her view of the doctor, even if Bo seemed to be moving in the opposite direction with regards to Lauren. But then, that was Bo, always running headlong into things without looking at the ground beneath her feet to see if it was solid or crumbling under every stride. Sometimes it was all Kenzi could do to hang on tight and try to enjoy the ride. Or scream loudly enough when she wanted to get off.

“You know, you and Bo getting all Fae’d up together might not be good for your health,” she commented dryly as Lauren frowned at her.

“And that’s your business…why?” the doctor countered, brusque and defensive. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Kenzi – in fact, Lauren rather admired her unswerving loyalty to Bo, particularly as the runaway had professed no previous allegiance to anyone else in her life. No; she was simply finding it more than difficult to live her life in the open when it came to matters of a more personal nature. Bo had explained once that there were no secrets between Kenzi and herself, that they were more sisters than friends and shared their personal lives accordingly. But secrets had characterized Lauren’s life since becoming part of the Fae world and to have the ones she held most dear fractured open and displayed in front of her was alarming, to say the least.

“It’s Bo’s business, which makes it mine,” Kenzi said adroitly. Tilting her head onto one side, she shrugged slightly as though that explanation was the only one Lauren needed. Her stance made it clear that it was the only one Lauren was going to get.

“Look, Kenzi, I don’t want to hurt Bo, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“But you are, Doc,” Kenzi rolled her eyes and wondered if everyone who worked for the Fae was inherently stupid when it came to relationships. “She’s…testy,” she added thoughtfully. “Y’know, hungry.” She looked pointedly at Lauren and lifted her eyebrows in an almost vaudevillian manner to accentuate her meaning.

“I encouraged her to feed – ”

“And you think the longer she’s involved with you that’s actually going to happen?” Kenzi let out a noise of dismissal and pressed her lips together in a firm line. “C’mon, Lauren. She might be a Succubus but she’s all human inside. You don’t have to have a hotline to the Fae to see that.”

That was the thing about Kenzi, Lauren thought to herself. She saw everything – all the things that most people didn’t and most of the things other people couldn’t. When it came to Bo, Kenzi was fiercely protective and had drawn her lines in the sand with candor. Bo might be ignorant of her nature’s needs, but Kenzi certainly wasn’t. And neither am I, Lauren mentally added.

“I know you don’t believe me,” Lauren took a step closer to Kenzi and saw the glimmer of disbelief in the girl’s eyes. “But I do have Bo’s best interests at heart and I’m trying my best to get her to act on that. I need you to help me help her, okay? And if you don’t want to do it for me, then do it for her.”

It wasn’t the most eloquent of pleas, nor was it close to being remotely close to how Lauren really felt about Bo. But it was all she was prepared to give – all she felt that she could give. Trust was so tenuous, so fragile that to not give voice to it now seemed disingenuous in the extreme. She turned from Kenzi lest the girl should see the emotion in her face, pulling at her features and betraying her efforts to remain stoic. Shuffling her feet, she clasped and unclasped her hands, clearing her throat.

“Is she here?” she asked, gaze wandering towards the staircase.

“Dyson wanted her help on a case,” Kenzi stated casually. “She said you should wait for her.” Bo had, in fact, literally ordered Kenzi home to wait for Lauren in her place. She’d failed to see the displeasure on Kenzi’s face or the apprehension with which the girl viewed being left alone with the doctor. But then, Kenzi thought, gazing blankly at Lauren, there was plenty Bo didn’t see. If ignorance was bliss, then Bo ought to be the happiest person on the planet.

Lauren smiled politely, despite her eagerness to see Bo and despite the fact that Bo had essentially left her alone with Kenzi: the girl who had once called her ‘cold and frigid’ and who was, even now, viewing her with something that looked like fascinated distaste. But if she appeared somewhat frosty, then it was only because sometimes, it felt like she’d been waiting for Bo forever. Although, a few more hours didn’t really seem like too much in the greater scheme of things. A scheme of things that was quite beyond her control or manipulation, she reminded herself, with a pang of concern. And time, no longer interminably on her side, was beginning to run out.

“So…I’ll just uh…wait upstairs?” Lauren suggested, seeing an expression of relief flood Kenzi’s features and feeling half offended by it. Whatever happened between her and Bo, it was clear that there would be no love lost when it came to Kenzi.

Moving towards the staircase, Lauren found that she was almost thankful for that – Bo would need Kenzi’s strength if this played out the way she expected it to. If her secrets came to light, which they always did in the end. There was no hiding from what she’d done and, ultimately, she was already preparing herself for the inevitable penance that she would have to pay. Betrayal was a word that the Fae liked to throw around without truly considering its meaning. But it was also a word that they acted upon, swiftly and without remorse. It was only a matter of time before her dealings with the Dark were uncovered.

She’d known that from the beginning.

Her foot was on the first step when the sound of her name made her turn and look back at Kenzi.

“You’re right, by the way,” Kenzi said, shrugging a little.

Lauren nodded, relief flooding her features. “Good, because Bo needs to – ”

“Nah,” Kenzi waved her hand in the air. “I didn’t mean about that. I meant about you. I don’t believe you.” Her expression was resolute; her assessment implicit.

“Oh.”

Yes; Lauren thought as she trudged up the stairs towards Bo’s room. The hardest truths were always the ones that hurt the most.

* * * * *

By the time Bo entered her bedroom, it was late and the room was dark and quiet. She stood still for a moment, allowing her eyes to adjust to the gloom. The boards at the window only offered a few errant beams of yellow streetlight to enter the room but they had faded to barely anything by the time they reached the floor and offered little in the way of illumination. Squinting towards the bed, her eyes sought the figure lying there and she took a few hesitant steps forward.

Kenzi’s warninghs had been explicit – Lauren was to be avoided. In fact, Kenzi had been pretty explicit about a lot of things when it came to the subject of Lauren, including a disgruntled monologue on the various pitfalls of getting into bed with the Light Fae – both literally and metaphorically. Only, Bo thought with a vague smile, Kenzi had used words of a far more colorful nature. She knew that her friend meant well, but standing by the side of the bed, Bo could only hear the regular breathing of the woman in it. Everything else faded away: the traffic, Kenzi’s cautionary diatribe, even the sounds of her own brain, usually so full of questions and arguments.

Bo’s eyes slid over the silhouette of Lauren’s body, just listening. It all seemed so…normal. And that wasn’t a word that had been in her vocabulary for at least the last ten years. All she’d ever wanted was to come home to someone else – someone who was in her bed and her heart. Someone who wanted to stay there. It was a simple longing that she’d cultivated growing up among humans. And the further away it moved, the more she wanted it. Craved it. So much that sometimes, it was all she could think about.

Undressing quickly, Bo shivered slightly in the night air before pulling back the covers and sliding under them. By the time her arms crept around Lauren, the other woman stirred with a tiny noise of surprise, opening her eyes and half–turning in the bed.

“Oh…hey,” she said sleepily, reaching up to rub at her eyes. “I must have fallen asleep. I was waiting…” Frowning, she blinked at Bo’s face, pushed close to her own and almost allowed herself to drift back into the dreamlike world where she and Bo would stay like this forever. But with sleep floating ever further away from her as she began to wake up, Lauren drew in a breath and recognized reality seeping into her peripheral vision.

“Did Dyson get what he needed from you?” she asked. It was an innocent enough question, but even saying his name reminded Lauren of the facts of her existence and she demurred slightly as Bo grinned.

“He wanted to use my contacts with the Dark Fae. I guess being in the middle counts for something, right?” Her smile faded as she moved closer to Lauren’s body, fingers grasping at the shirt the doctor wore. “You still have clothes on.”

“I wasn’t planning on spending the night,” Lauren said, shifting away from Bo as much as she was able with the Succubus’ arms wrapped tightly around her. It was somewhat of an impossible task and for a second, she proffered an indulgent smile at the face close to her own and turned again, her arm creeping over Bo’s torso. The supple skin under her fingertips brought a flush of pleasure to her cheeks and she was glad, suddenly, for the dark to hide her weaknesses and shield her fallibility.

Bo shivered again as Lauren’s hand drifted over her side and onto her hip, lingering for a moment before moving away. “Well in case you hadn’t noticed, the night is almost over, so you might as well stay,” she whispered, throwing a territorial leg over Lauren. “Take your clothes off,” she mumbled, her mouth pressing against the slender neck underneath her mouth.

For a second, Lauren was tempted to do just that. She’d known that intimacy between them was always going to lead to this – to entwined bodies and a desire that swept from one mouth to the other in whispered accolades and beautiful words. And if she could shake the burden that weighed her down, if she could empty her chest of the anticipated grief that was certain, she might have acceded to Bo’s request. But she placed her hands onto Bo’s naked shoulders and pushed at her, the space between them growing as darkness flooded in to fill it.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, Bo’s mouth turning downwards in a pout of rebuttal. “I…need to talk about…well, you.”

“If this is about anything other than the fact that I want you to get naked with me, then I’m less than interested,” Bo responded sulkily, her fingers plucking dismally at Lauren’s shirt.

Despite the smile on her face, Lauren’s heart was heavy. She sat up in the bed and pushed at her hair, shoving it back over her shoulders. “I’m serious, Bo.”

“So am I!” Bo insisted, sliding into an upright position and clutching the bed covers against her body. “I haven’t seen you for days and when I do, all you want me to do is have sex with someone else. I mean, come on Lauren, do I have to Succubus you into it?”

“Speaking of…” Lauren avoided Bo’s eyes and looked instead down at her lap. “Did you and Dyson…?”

She hated the way her voice sounded, so desolate and defeated. She hated the way it felt, too. But a part of her had accepted it, the facts that insinuated themselves between her and Bo with sharp edges that pricked her conscience and sliced at her heart. She’d seen a lot of pain in her work with the Fae, even caused some of it too with her treatments and desire to heal. But the worst pain was the one she inflicted on herself. And who was going to heal her? Who would even want to?

“If you’re asking if I fed from Dyson, then the answer’s no.” Bo lifted her chin defiantly, a hardness entering her gaze. Her fingers clutched at the sheet around her and she moved backwards, away from Lauren with an open mouth of assumed horror. “I can’t believe you’re even asking me this…” she muttered, shaking her head.

“I care about you, Bo!” Lauren swung her legs over the side of the bed and got to her feet, pacing towards the window and frowning. “The longer you go without feeding, the more you’re going to have to take from whoever’s next. Don’t you understand that?” She turned, her hand in the air, helpless.

“No, I don’t understand!” Bo shook her head again, hurt lying in patterns around her eyes and mouth. “You think I can’t control myself? Lauren, that’s all I do when I’m around you – don’t you understand that?”

“You’re so goddamn stubborn, Bo!” Lauren’s voice rose to match the fevered pitch of the other woman’s and she darted forwards, hands outstretched before catching herself and letting them fall uselessly against her side. “Why do you keep doing this to yourself? It’s not healthy!” She wasn’t sure whether she was talking to Bo or to herself; weakness was the only outcome of this, surely. Vulnerability and weakness and wasting away until they didn’t exist at all. Emotional malnutrition, she told herself. They were both starving themselves to death.

“Neither is pushing me towards other people when I only want to be with you!” Bo protested, fingers curling into a fist against the red sheets of the bed. “I can control this, Lauren. You can help me. You’ve already helped me.”

“No.” Shaking her head, the doctor moved to the edge of the bed and sat down gingerly, uncomfortable in her own skin. “The shots I’ve been giving you – they can help to suppress your appetite, but they won’t eliminate it. You have to feed to survive, Bo. And I know you think the occasional energy boosts I can give you will be enough, but I’m telling you they won’t be. Not now, not ever. You need to be strong. You’re going to need to be strong,” she corrected herself, hanging her head and looking disconsolately at her lap, fingers twisting against one another.

“What? Why?” Bo demanded, her voice coming in staccato bursts like rapid gunfire.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Lauren said slowly, lifting her gaze to look at Bo. The Succubus was almost hidden in the darkness of the room, but Lauren could see her eyes glistening in the shadows. Anger, hurt, fear – all the things she never wanted to paint over the other woman’s features were there in broad strokes. For all the emotions that raged through her when she was with Bo, giving her hope for the future, it was her present self who rationalized them. She was tired. Tired of feeling so much, all the time. Exhausted by the sheer effort of restraint and secrecy. Her life had never been so chaotic, so at odds with the person she had tried to be her whole life: controlled, detached, able to resist the inimitable pull of one heart towards another. If Lauren had been the sort of person who believed in a soul, she would have suspected that hers had taken flight long ago, leaving her with an emptiness that could never be filled.

“Talk to me about what?” Bo snapped. “All you do is talk, Lauren. That’s all you do.”

“Because you never listen!” Lauren threw up her hands and let out a frustrated sigh.

“So tell me something I want to hear,” Bo slumped back onto the bed and tugged the sheet around her.

“I found some information out about…about you. Your parents.” Lauren sensed, rather than saw, the stiffening of the other woman’s body and the way her eyes opened wide in anticipation. “You’re not alone, Bo. You have a family. A heritage.”

“How did you…?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Lauren shook her head. And it didn’t, not really. All that mattered was that Bo know and understand who she was. Where she had come from. The only thing that mattered was that she find her place in the world. Even if that was with the Dark Fae.

Swallowing, she prepared herself, hearing Bo’s quickened breathing in anticipation of what she was about to say. In the internvening hours between hearing the information and the telling of it, Lauren had considered at least five or six different ways of giving Bo the information she so desperately wanted. Five or six different ways in which she tried not to focus on the fact that Bo’s heritage was Dark. That her origins were steeped in the nefarious Dark clans who would cut one another down without a second thought if they were to suspect she belonged to them.

Looking at Bo now, Lauren took a long breath and then let it out slowly. The best way – the only way – was to focus on the facts. That was how she’d been trained in medical school. It was how she had been encouraged to deliver any and all bad news. Nodding to herself, she quelled the fluttering of her heart, nervous and unsure inside her chest, and instead focused on the bare, unrelenting facts.

“Your parents were Dark Fae elders who sent you away to protect you. They belonged to opposing clans and any relationship between them was frowned upon…forbidden, actually. When you were born, it wasn’t safe for you to remain with the Dark. They did it for your own good, Bo.” Lauren’s voice was steady; saying this under a shroud of darkness was easier for her. She couldn’t bear to see the expression on Bo’s face, or know that with every word she was widening the distance between them.

“Who told you this?” Be demanded, her voice taking on a roughened edge.

“I can’t tell you – ”

“You’d better,” Bo pushed herself up on the bed, sitting up straight and glaring through the darkness at the figure on the end of her bed. “I mean it, Lauren. I want to know who told you.”

“I made a deal with a Dark Fae.” She heard the gasp of recrimination from Bo and bit at her lip.

“A deal? With a Dark Fae? Lauren, are you insane?” Bo’s voice was horrified, carrying with it all the criticism that Lauren had heaped upon herself for associating and bargaining with Sagi.

“It was the only way I could get the information you need, Bo. And Sagi is respected in the Dark Fae community.”

Silence. A moment’s contemplation. The air between them crackled with intensity before Bo spoke.

“And this…this Sagi, do you trust him?”

Lauren let out a laugh and shook her head sadly. “In as much as I could ever trust a Kitsune, then yes, I do. Believe me, Bo, he was more than compensated for his efforts. Let’s just say it was more than enough to guarantee the truth. Your heritage is in the Dark. It makes sense that The Morrigan takes such an interest in you.”

“So…what, I should just go on over to the Dark side and wait for the homecoming party?” Bo scoffed, throwing up her hands.

“I didn’t say that,” Lauren muttered.

“No, but you knew this about me, didn’t you? Is that why you don’t want to be with me? Is that why you keep wanting me to sleep with other people? Because at heart I’m a Dark Fae?” The embittered tone of Bo’s voice cut through Lauren with the efficiency of one of her medical instruments, sharpened by hurt and rejection. It was all Lauren could do not to reach out to her. Light and Dark meant very little to her now; the only thing that really mattered was the pain of separation and the bitter taste of regret.

“I did this to help you, Bo. Not to hurt you.” Her voice was low, thickened by tears that she refused to shed in this place. Not here. Not in front of Bo, who would surely see how much this was tearing at her if she did.

“All that crap about me feeding…you know, Lauren, I thought you really cared.”

“I do!” Lauren sprang to her feet, swallowing against the ache in her throat. “God, Bo, do you think I would risk everything I am on a whim? If The Ash were to find out I’d been dealing with the Dark, then it wouldn’t just be your life in danger! You’re so…so damned intent on rushing into things that it terrifies me. This was the only way to keep you safe and find out who you are without you getting killed in the process! That’s how much I care, Bo. I couldn’t bear it if you…” She stopped herself, hands shaking and voice trembling over words that she was quite unable to give voice.

Taking several fortifying breaths, Lauren wrapped her arms around herself and dropped her head onto her chest. Getting emotionally involved in the welfare of a Fae was a road she’d always resisted going down. Getting emotionally involved with anyone was territory she’d decided was non–profitable for her. She’d always suspected that caring more about someone else than she did about herself would only break her in the end. Once her own wants and needs became secondary to those of another, her weaknesses rose to the surface, cracked and broken open. Just as she was right now.

“I don’t care where you’re from,” she began again, lifting her head to stare into the shadows where Bo sat motionless and bristling. Lauren could feel the hurt coming off the Succubus in waves, reaching towards her with the strength of a riptide, just waiting to pull her under and consume her.

“But I care that you do,” Lauren added. “And I did what I had to in order to find that out.”

“By putting yourself in danger? I told you not to do that.”

“Yeah, well…” Lauren allowed herself a tight, tiny smile. “I wonder who I learned that from.”

“So what happens now?” Bo asked quietly. “If I’m Dark Fae by birth…does that mean I’m bad?” Her tone, desolate and dipping to a tone that spoke of the fears lurking deep within her caught at the doctor’s chest, grasping at it with cold fingers.

“God, no!” Now Lauren did move forwards, sitting on the bed and taking Bo’s hand between her own, squeezing it gently. “Every Fae gets to choose who they belong to and how they live. But you didn’t choose Light or Dark. Your parentage means that The Morrigan, if she knows, will want to draw you to the Dark. But it doesn’t mean you’re bad, Bo. If you were truly bad, I wouldn’t – “ She caught her breath, clamping her lips together and reminding herself that declarations didn’t belong here. The only thing that belonged here was honesty. And honesty dictated that Bo was better off without her. Would be better off, once enough time had passed to allow the Succubus to realize that.

“Wouldn’t what?” Bo urged, leaning forwards and peering into Lauren’s eyes, hidden by the shadows falling across them.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find out more for you.” Lauren ignored Bo’s question and focused on the issue at stake. Perhaps doing that might alleviate the doubt spreading pain across the back of her neck and prickling behind her eyes. “You don’t understand how this world works, Bo. I wish you did. Maybe then you’d realize how dangerous it is for you to be asking questions.”

“Do you?” The Succubus’ chin jerked forwards and she curled her fingers around Lauren’s, holding them so tightly that the doctor almost cried out. “Jesus, Lauren. Why didn’t you tell me? You say you want to be honest with me and tell me the truth and then I find out that you’ve been on some secret spy Fae mission and putting your life in danger! It’s not fair! You promised you wouldn’t!” Her words came out in a rush of criticism that assaulted the doctor and pulled her into the present. Clear and guilty and hurtful.

Sliding her hands from Bo’s grasp, Lauren smiled sadly. It was always the lies that found her out, in the end, even when she so carefully constructed them from half–truths and confessions. Bo’s ignorance of the Fae world would ultimately be the Succubus’ downfall. And even if she could encourage Bo to navigate it with care and diplomacy, there still might not be enough time for her to find out what she needed to know. At least, this way, Bo would be protected for a little while longer. But she wouldn’t.

“I didn’t tell you because the less you’re involved, the safer you are. I can try to find out more for you – “ she hesitated as Bo’s mouth opened to protest and held up a hand to stop any further tirade from the Succubus. “I can try to find out more, but when The Morrigan discovers this, and she will, I’ll be the only one responsible.”

“That’s crazy!” Bo cried, shaking her head. “Do you think because you’re under the protection of The Ash that you’re untouchable or something?”

“I don’t know,” Lauren admitted. And she didn’t. All she knew was that she had given Bo her birthright, which was what she had wanted to do. Needed to do. She’d wondered if it might bring some sense of closure to this…to them. But all she could feel right now was an overwhelming sense of sadness, of desperation and emptiness. She had taken her leap of faith and was still falling. Only this time, she couldn’t be assured that there would be anyone there to catch her.

“So what do we do now?” Bo asked, her voice sounding very small in the quiet of the room, a blanket of silence creeping in from the night outside.

“I don’t know that either.”

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” It was an innocent enough question, and one to which Bo already knew the answer. But she reached out anyway; she had to try. Her hands met dead air as Lauren stood up and moved away from the bed.

“It’s not safe for you to be with me right now.” The voice that came at Bo from the darkness of the bedroom was flat, monotone in its acceptance and resignation. Even the Succubus could hear that. Lauren had given up. On them. On herself, even.

“I don’t care,” Bo was resolute, leaping from the bed and ignoring the chill of the air as it hit her skin. “Lauren, please. I can protect us both.”

But Lauren shook her head and gave Bo a sad smile. “Not if you don’t feed, you can’t. And maybe not even then. The Morrigan…Bo, she’s powerful.” A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered the stories she’d heard. If The Ash was seen as ruling his people with a strong arm, then The Morrigan did so with fear and the fist. And she was utterly unreasonable in getting her demands met. For all that Bo suspected she knew about The Morrigan and the Dark Fae, she had barely touched the surface. Working for The Ash meant that sometimes, Lauren had delve into the murky depths of questionable morals and even more questionable actions. But she’d always justified it with her link to the Light. The Dark…well, the Dark did whatever was necessary to perpetuate their stronghold over the Fae. And even if, as Lauren suspected, Bo was important to them, they wouldn’t hesitate to bring her under their control in whatever way was available to them. Especially if her parentage was linked in such an intrinsic way to their society. Humans rarely felt such strong connections to their origins; in fact, most humans didn’t really care about them at all. But the Fae, in their thousand year tradition, had lost so much that heritage was one of the only things they had left to celebrate. That, and a millennium of conflict between the Light and the Dark.

“When will I see you again?”

Bo’s question came out of the dark. A plea, choked by tears that Lauren could hardly bear to hear, let alone see. She was thankful for the darkness that hid Bo from her, grateful for the shield it offered against her unruly and desperate heart.

“I’ll…I’ll call you,” she said. “Try to feed, Bo. You need to be strong. Please, do it for me.” Again her request came. One last request to elicit some sign that Bo cared. One last opportunity to show that she did, too. But it was met only with silence, and in the blackened shadows that crept across the room, Lauren only saw an empty void turning and returning to haunt her. Reaching up to scrub at her eyes, she caught her breath and gritted her teeth, determined not to release the sob stuck in her throat. She’d done quite enough already.

She heard her name as she left the room, then once more as she stumbled her way down the stairs. By the time she’d reached the hesitant silence outside, she heard nothing but her own breath, jagged and broken in her ears.

continued in

The Eighth Way: Repercussions