Chapter 2: Prologue

Prologue

Four years ago

"The truth was a mirror in the hands of God. It fell and broke into pieces. Everybody took a piece of it, and they looked at it and thought they had the truth." – Rumi

I had the broken pieces of truth, but at the time, I didn't comprehend it. All I knew was that Mother had abandoned me. My sin was being unaware that I was also one of those pieces.

We stumbled into an alley beside a bank of large trash bins that reeked of old fish, sour milk, and dirty diapers. Mother had a cut under her left eye, and blood trickled down her delicate face in thin rivulets. Those red tears were the only ones she shed for me.

Mother could make a Botticelli angel turn away in envy.

She was everything I was not, and now I was disappointing her again.

Despite the bruise blooming on her cheek and her disheveled appearance, she looked golden. I raised a shaking palm to wipe a dirty streak from her face, but she thrust my hand down with a quick, sharp movement.

Of course. How could I touch that flawless face after my sin?

Her eyes—green as a spring day in a meadow—were blank. Even with danger hunting us, I struggled to find any hint of affection between us. I never would. My eyes, pale mint under a harsh frost, with keyhole pupils, were strange. My face was sharp—sharp eyes, sharp chin, sharp cheeks.

The only soft feature I had were my lips, which were too pouty from all the tantrums and sulking, she said.

She had locks of perfect golden ringlets, while my hair was wild, tangled, and yellow as a school bus.

I was strange all around—nothing like my perfect Mother.

I cradled my hand to my chest as if she had sought to cut it off. "Mother, I didn't understand!"

She grimaced. "You were supposed to obey me without dispute. I did all this for you, Madeline. To save you."

"Why hide me at all? Why won't you tell me why? I'm fourteen! I can handle it now. I swear!"

"Shut up, Madeline!" She hissed. "Just stay still for now. I don't know if they found my portal. You're like a magnet for harm! I can't do this any longer—all this running, trying to change you—it's doing no good!"

"What do you mean, change me? I don't—"

She hissed again, silencing me. "What did I say? I wouldn't have to do this if you'd been an obedient child! It's only four years. After that, everything will be fine."

Stunned by her harsh words, I stood frozen, just as she wanted.

Mother waved her arm, and I felt a painful twisting in my body. I crumpled as the pain wrenched at my tendons, misery spreading through every bone. My body was shrinking, flattening, narrowing. I clenched my teeth to keep from screaming, but the agony poured out of me in a broken, desperate wail.

"Shhh! You stupid girl! Are you trying to get us caught?"

"It hurts!" I shuddered from the pain in my bones. For a moment, her hand reached out, her brow wrinkling with regret. Then a man's shout broke the moment, and she disappeared, leaving me broken.

I sobbed, dragging myself behind the disgusting trash bins to hide from the approaching men.

From the opening of the alleyway, I heard a low growl.

I spotted what I assumed was the shadow of an animal at first.

Instead, it was an overexposed negative of a husky or malamute. His eyeshine flashed red when a car drove by. I swallowed and scraped myself further into the recess behind the bins, ignoring the rotting stink coming from them.

The creature snarled, revealing jagged white teeth as it stalked closer. I raised my hands to shield my face. A wet nose touched my cheek, and I flinched, bracing for the bite.

Running footsteps skidded into the alley. Then the man I'd heard before cursed. The dog growled and, to my horror, lunged at me. He tore at my belly, taking an enormous chunk from it. I cried out!

I gaped at him as he continued to tear at me, but I felt no pain. Blood was pouring from the hole, but I didn't feel cold.

"It's an illusion," I whispered, as understanding dawned. The beast was trying to help me. I closed my eyes and pretended to be dead keeping my eyes open just enough to try to identify the men. The creature turned, roaring at my pursuers.

The first man, wearing a hooded robe so I couldn't see his face, appeared then cursed when he saw the scene. "A Phouka!"

Another man appeared, also cloaked. "Are you sure?"

"There's no doubt! Red eyes, black fur. He's got prey!"

"Is it the girl?"

"No, it's a lad! The Phouka's torn him apart!" The first man had a thick brogue as if Sean Connery had swallowed marbles.

"Let's get out of here! I have no wish to fight a Phouka!" The second man danced backward.

The men ran from the alley. When it appeared they wouldn't be back, I pulled myself up into a sitting position and stared at the dog - Phouka; they said? Savior.

I pressed my face into his thick fur and wept with my heart-breaking. I was no longer alone, at least.

He shimmered, turning into a boy who was older than me. Maybe sixteen?

I was pressing my face into his chest. A stranger's chest.

A cute stranger's chest.

I pushed away from him, my face heating.

With an annoying chuckle, he helped me stand up.

"Thank you." I hazarded a wary glance at his eyes. They were no longer red but deep sleepy-looking eyes, brown in color.  A brown that made you think of chocolate... or sin.

I blinked at the wayward thought and slammed it down. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that such thoughts led to more betrayal.

"You okay?" His voice was as much of a shadow as his form—low and quiet, wrapping around me like warmth.

I nodded, though my body still trembled.

His presence was like standing next to a fire on the edge of a cliff.

He narrowed his gaze, studying me with a scrutiny that made my skin prickle. "You're covered in magic," he said, his tone unreadable. "What happened to you?"

My heart jumped. I had to play this carefully. He couldn't know. No one could know. "Nothing. I—I just need to leave."

He cocked his head, his expression sharpening. "Not just any magic. This is transformation magic. Powerful, too." His eyes swept over me, lingering on my hair, and my face as if he could see through the layers of me. "Who did this to you? Why?"

The intensity of his gaze made my heart tap-dance in my chest, and I struggled to keep standing. I hugged my arms around myself, trying to ward off the rising panic. "I—I don't know." It wasn't exactly a lie. I didn't understand the truth either, not fully. "My mother... she left me."

He was silent for a moment, then his grip on my arm tightened slightly, just enough for me to notice. "Transformation magic that strong doesn't just happen. Someone's hiding you."

I bit my lip, nodding vaguely. That much, I understood. Mother had decided this was best, and I had to accept it.

The boy—no, the Phouka—watched me, his brow furrowed as if he were deciding something. His grip loosened, and he stepped back, though he kept his eyes on me, as if waiting for me to run.

"Why were you left in my territory, Sidhe boy?"

"Boy?" I looked down and was horrified to see my chest was flat and my budding curves were gone.

"No" I stamped my foot, not wanting to believe that not only had she taken her presence from me, but she'd taken everything else too.

He raised an eyebrow. "No, what?"

I bit my tongue, reeling from the realization. This wasn't something I could explain to him—or to anyone, for that matter. But I so wanted to, if only to get a little sympathy.

"My mother deserted me here because I disobeyed her," My voice caught and I tried to clear away the lump in my throat.  "I'll leave your territory as soon as I can."

He studied me in silence for a moment, eyes flicking over me as if he could see through to the truth. "You're covered in powerful magic," he said again, his voice rumbling in a low whisper. "Are you a fugitive?"

I flinched, shaking my head. "I—I don't know what you're talking about."

His gaze didn't waver. "I can feel it. You're soaked in it. Transformation magic—strong."

I stared back at him, my pulse pounding in my ears. He couldn't know. He can't see through it. But the way his eyes lingered on me made me uneasy. "It's nothing."

He didn't look convinced but let it drop for now. "Come on," he said, gesturing for me to follow. "Let's get out of here. It stinks."

Reluctantly, I took a step forward. My body still felt strange, and unfamiliar. I stumbled, and he caught me, his grip firm and steady. For a moment, I hesitated, still unsure if I could trust him.  His hand lingered on my arm, just long enough to make me feel... safe.

He was a stranger, but he had saved me. That was more than I could say for anyone else.

"I'm Madeline," I said quietly, forgetting myself.

He raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Madeline? You don't look much like a Madeline."

I stiffened, ready to defend my name, my identity, but then I remembered—he only saw a boy. "Well, my mother had an odd taste in names."

He chuckled, a sound that made the tension in my chest loosen just a little. "I'll call you Matt."

"Okay," I said, my voice small.

We walked in silence for a moment, his presence comforting in the otherwise eerie quiet of the alley. He didn't let go of my arm until we reached the street, where the faint glow of streetlights bathed us in an orange haze.

I glanced up at him, still unsure of who or what he was. "Are we friends now?"

His lips curved into a sly smile. "No, you're my prey. But I'll keep you around for a while. Until I'm ready to eat you."

My heart stuttered, and I let out a nervous laugh, half certain he was joking but not entirely convinced. "Very funny."

He shrugged, the smile lingering on his lips. "You're an odd one, Matt, and far too pretty for a boy."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words stuck in my throat. Pretty? My face heated at the thought.

I couldn't help it—I'd been thinking the same thing about him earlier.

I glanced away, trying to hide the flush creeping up my neck. "Well, I... I thought you were pretty too," I muttered, immediately regretting the words as they left my mouth.

Why did I say that?

Luis's eyes widened, the smirk on his face freezing in place for a second. Then he let out a soft laugh, the sound low and rich like honey. "Me? Pretty?"

I swallowed hard, my cheeks burning hotter. "I mean... you know. In a 'you're not bad looking' kind of way."

He watched me, clearly amused, as I tried to recover from my embarrassment. "You really are an odd one, Matt."

Odd. It was still the kindest thing anyone had called me in a long time. I forced a weak smile, trying to shake off the awkwardness. "Yeah, well... I guess that makes two of us."

He took my hand and led me into four years of waiting... and hoping.