"Still out."

Rachel shut the door to Katherine's room and joined Becca and me on the sofa. We'd just finished cleaning up after lunch, and my concerns were growing at an accelerated rate.

"That's all?"

"Tom . . ." her glare could have curdled milk.

"I know," I sighed, exasperated, "I'm just worried." Becca squeezed my hand and leaned her head against my shoulder in yet another attempt to reassure me.

After Katherine fell asleep the night before, I could barely contain the idle energy buzzing through my system and finally eased out of bed, rinsed off in the shower, and took a walk to clear my head. The air was sharp with cold, but I hardly noticed as I played the strange vision over and over again in my mind. It hadn't been a dream, it was too much like the fairy lights, there but not quite, and while I'd spent several minutes in that wood, only a few seconds had passed in the real world.

The woman on the shore was Katherine, I had no doubts about that, but she was also nothing like her, possessing bright green eyes that nearly glowed in the moonlight and a brutal scar down one side of her face. She seemed timid, at least as frightened and surprised as I'd been.

Unable to make sense of it, I returned, catching a couple fitful hours of sleep near dawn. Have I mentioned that she snores? It's not obnoxious, because whatever benevolent force blessed her genes had given her a cat's purr instead of the bandsaw I had to endure living under the same roof with my foster father.

When the sun had been up more than an hour I tried to shake her awake and spent the next thirty minutes in a near panic when every attempt failed. I searched for her anima, and for the first time since drinking Miss Gold's tea I saw nothing and feared the worst. It took Becca and Rachel an hour to calm me after I'd dragged them both out of bed.

Becca checked Katherine's sleeping body through the hagstone then passed it to me. The green stain was gone, leaving a glimmering web, glowing like sunlight and honey, but there was an occasional sparkling verdigris along the strands of her aura, as though it had been purified and absorbed instead of clinging to her like an infection. None of us could guess at what the change meant, and I didn't care, as long as she opened her eyes.

It happened just before dinner and I nearly passed out from relief. Her return to consciousness was announced by amber fairy lights suddenly swarming in front of me like the ghost of good cheer. I threw open her door and raced up the stairs to find her sitting, one hand holding the sheet over her bare chest, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and smiling.

"Good morning," she said and yawned. She tried to, at least, but I crushed her in a fierce hug, cutting her off. She hugged back until I was ready to let go.

"It's evening," I told her, "You've been asleep almost twenty hours."

She knit her brow, but appeared unbothered. "Really? It doesn't seem that long. Did you sleep too?"

"He's been annoying the shit out of us since daybreak," Rachel said as she entered with Becca close on her heels. "Pacing like he's trying to wear a groove in the concrete."

"Well, you can stop worrying because I feel fine," she said, pulling me close for a kiss.

"Nothing different?" Becca asked tentatively.

"Not so far," Katherine announced, then stretched, letting the sheet fall, and swung her legs off the bed. "Though I could really use a shower."

Rachel smirked, "Want me to get you a bathrobe?"

"Why? It's just the four of us and now everyone has seen me naked. It's kind of liberating."

"Hey, you don't need to convince me, but you're gonna break him," Rachel replied. I cleared my throat and forced my eyes off Katherine when the words finally registered. Becca was blushing, but also trying, unsuccessfully, to cover a grin.

"Hysterical, Rach," I said, trying to play it down.

"Hey, nothing to be ashamed of, you're a guy. You think with your dick and tits like hers are practically mind control."

Katherine was grinning too, but she came to my rescue anyway, "Don't act like you don't spend half your day drooling after Thomas."

"That's different."

"No it isn't. You wanted him even before you were addicted." It didn't exactly kill the conversation, but Rachel visibly stiffened and quickly changed the subject.

"If you're gonna clean up, get to it, I'm hungry. We were just about to start dinner." She walked out, followed by Katherine, then Becca, and I trailed behind.

I kept my back firmly to the bath house while Katherine cleaned herself, which was a source of amusement to all three girls. I didn't have a good option. I could look away and be considered foolish or watch openly and get called out for being a pervert. All things being equal, and if I gave myself the luxury of being honest, I'd have preferred to watch, but some hangups have difficulty letting go.

Dinner conversation was a post coital analysis of Katherine's mental state, conducted almost solely by Becca and Rachel. I was probably more interested in her answers than either of them, but I thankfully didn't need to ask any questions. I kept reading too much into her word choices and body language.

A change had doubtless taken place, but there was nothing specific or obvious that she could pin down. Perhaps she was even more at ease than before, possessed of a kind of self-satisfied confidence that made her seem almost regal. It could have been the result of having finally gotten her way, or possibly an internal calm brought on by receiving the stronger connection she had craved. Maybe her doubts had been erased as she predicted, or perhaps she was putting on a show for my sake. Thoughts like that kept me silent.

When she kissed me, which she did frequently all evening, it was almost territorial, but never to the exclusion of the others. When she found out I'd neglected the others she insisted I service both immediately, and looked on without the slightest hint of discomfort or jealousy.

After dinner, I washed the dishes with Becca while Katherine and Rachel talked animatedly on the sofa. The two of them were in high form, but I spent most of the time trying to sort out my own thoughts, and Becca kept looking at me strangely out of the corner of her eye.

"Was..." she began after a particularly long stare.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Becca, something's on your mind."

"Yeah, it's just..."

"Just what?"

She looked up again, hesitant, "I was going to ask a question I think I know the answer to."

"And?"

"Was that your first time with Katherine? I mean, you didn't do it before last night, did you?"

"Um," I said after an awkward minute, "why do you ask?"

"No reason, I guess."

I felt bad for evading her question so I volunteered a little more. We were close enough for that, at least. "It was never an option for me. When I was sick, anything that messed with my body chemistry could end in mood swings and blackouts, or if it got bad, seizures and delusions. I've hurt people when I didn't mean to long before I knew fairies existed."

"Is that what makes you so careful?"

"It's a big part of it, yeah."

"What changed?"

"You mean apart from the obvious?"

She shook her head, "I know you're not sick anymore, but you've still been really concerned about it from the beginning. It makes last night—well, that was a really big deal."

"It wasn't an easy decision."

"So, what changed?"

I paused to consider my reply. The easy answer was that I felt pressured to do it, the answer I wanted to avoid was that nothing had changed and I'd made a mistake, but neither was true.

"Did Katherine talk about it before? With you, I mean." I asked.

"Kind of. Nothing explicit, but her and Rachel aren't very shy about personal stuff."

I had assumed girl talk had covered that particular ground, and was both gratified and annoyed to discover I was right. "Katherine wanted to close that circle before someone else could take her place."

"No," Becca shook her head. "She's talked about that too, but said you didn't understand. Things changed when you met your dad, didn't they?"

I almost told her yes, but her question made me face the thought head-on. "Meeting him might have made it easier."

"You've been afraid you're like him, but now you know you aren't?"

"Maybe," I sighed and scratched my forehead with the back of my wrist to keep the soap suds off my face. "He's so strong, even without these powers, and I don't know how to fight that. He could have killed me without trying, and there wasn't anything I could have done to stop him. If I'm not like him then I need to know what I am. Maybe we all do. That's what Finn says anyway."

"Did having sex teach you anything?" The way she put it made me blush and I couldn't answer. "I'm sorry," she said, bowing her head, "I just mean you thought it might hurt Katherine, but then you changed your mind, or if you didn't change your mind, you did it anyway. Was it because you decided there wasn't a risk, or because you decided the risk was worth it?"

That was the real question behind her words. Her tone was warm and friendly, curious but not cold, and it still hit me like ice. "Do you think it was wrong? That I put her in danger?"

"It doesn't matter what I think."

I paused for a moment of introspection and she waited patiently while I collected my thoughts. "I decided to believe her," I said finally. "All of you, I guess. I've studied drugs and the effects of drugs for years, and it's hard for me to believe anything that can alter your motives and emotions so severely isn't changing everything else. But you keep insisting that none of it has changed who you are. If that's true after a kiss..." I let my sentence trail off because I wasn't sure where I was going with it, but Becca nodded, apparently satisfied.

"Then the only thing you really risked was not learning anything new. It's not about how scared you are anymore, because you probably still are. I would be. The risk wasn't ever worth it for you, but now you're giving her the freedom to make decisions instead of taking it all on yourself."

"Yeah, I guess so."

She nodded and went back to drying. "I felt it, you know. So did Rachel."

"What?"

"When you—when you finished last night." She caught me off guard once more and heat rose into my cheeks. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "I didn't mean to make you embarrassed."

"You didn't—okay, maybe a little, but it's not like you've never felt that before." It was her turn to blush.

"Yeah," she said quietly.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, it's just—it's been there ever since, like an itch. . ." She looked at Katherine and Rachel, then sharply back at me. "Do you think—when we're done with this that you could—do that thing with your power?" She sneaked another peek at the sofa, "I'll be quiet."

I'd done the same for all three of them before. Frustration built up when I practiced on them, and finishing them off deliberately had become part of the routine. Though still intimate, the process was mostly clinical, and nobody had ever asked for it outside that context.

"Please," she said shyly when I didn't answer immediately. "It's really distracting and I just want to be able to focus on other things."

"I—yeah," I replied. "It's the least I can do."

When the last few dishes were dried and put away, she stood by bashfully, waiting for me to take the initiative, so I took her hand. Her anima appeared readily, clear and distinct from the others. When the lights flared I began feeding power into them, slowly so it wouldn't overwhelm her. With her eyes shut, she bit her lip and her knees gave in slightly, but she held on and kept her balance. I risked a little more and she gasped.

"Fuck me," she whispered through her teeth. The change in her language was always shocking, and while I had no particular fetish for dirty talk, it had the undeniable allure of a taboo. There was no other sound, but I felt the ripple of her climax through her anima and in the tension of her fingers, and she leaned into me for support while she steadied herself.

"Me next?" Rachel called from the sofa. Both she and Katherine had their backs to us, and Becca had been so quiet I could barely hear her only inches away. Being called out pushed her into a panic, and she reflexively dove below the counter.

"How did you know?" I asked, annoyed on Becca's behalf.

Rachel snorted, "You might be a sniper rifle instead of a shotgun now, but it still goes bang."

Becca peeked carefully over the top of the counter, "I'm sorry, I just..."

"Shit, girl, don't be sorry, I just wanted to know when I was... gnhhh!" Rachel doubled over as I gave her a solid jolt, "What the fuck?" she demanded.

"Isn't that what you were asking for?"

"Yeah, but you could at least buy me dinner firs—GODDAMMIT!" she reached out and grabbed a fistful of Katherine's sweater as her body clenched through an instant orgasm.

Katherine's eyes were laughing, "Maybe you shouldn't have embarrassed Becca."

"Wh... what are you taking his... his side for?" Rachel panted.

"Because I know who butters my bread, and I need to get some tonight."

"Bullshit. He'll fuck you silly anytime you ask now."

Katherine rolled her eyes, "Coming from you that's almost poetry."

Her indelicacy aside, Rachel was right. Katherine and I were locked into a very physical relationship, and suddenly questions I should have asked a long time ago bubbled to the surface. Would it be the same as the kiss, or would she need it more often? Or less? What about her cycle? What if she got pregnant?

"Warn me next time, asshole," Rachel said, composing herself, "Fucking hell, it happened so fast I didn't even have time to get wet."

"I could do it again"

"Be nice, Thomas," Katherine chided.

"I didn't say it wasn't nice," Rachel said, "but I told you before, if I'm gonna get fingered by the invisible sex fairy I want to enjoy it properly."

Even Becca laughed, albeit nervously, but I had to watch myself. Using that power had a definite appeal and I'd begun to see some utility in it. That could turn into a slippery slope of self justification. I didn't want to take any of them for granted or abuse them for my own amusement. A little toying once in a while probably wouldn't hurt, especially with Rachel, whose needs were a more acute than the others, but despite everything they'd done to reassure me, I still didn't believe they'd tell me if I went too far.

It wasn't until evening that Katherine began to show the first signs of withdrawal as we walked hand in hand around the island to get some fresh air and exercise.

"I'm cold," she said, hugging her torso. Her breath was clearly visible in the night air, but she shook her head when I offered her my jacket. "It's okay. As long as we don't stay out too long, the distraction helps."

I put an arm around her anyway, "You okay?"

"For now, yeah."

"You sound a little down."

She shrugged and looked up at the few stars we could see, "More than I'm used to. Before you ask, there's nothing wrong, I just haven't felt anything like this for weeks."

"Then something's wrong," I argued.

"Maybe something's right. Maybe we came full circle and I'm back to normal."

"Do you really believe that?"

"No," she exhaled slowly, serious but calm, "something's different for sure. I don't think I can describe most of it yet."

"You're still you in there then?"

Her eyes narrowed, "Screw you for asking."

"I heard what you told the others, but—"

"You're still scared. Thomas, I honestly don't have any real answers for you. From what I've been able to gather, your dad's victims will do anything to get more of him, but you were always in my heart, and you don't hold yourself back from me. If you're not manipulating me, if I never have to choose between you and what's right, how is it any different from being in love?"

We continued walking beneath the moonlight in silence. The arguments in my head had always been ethical, but she'd hit on a philosophical point I'd never considered. If you had power over someone but never used it, were they still free?

"I'm—hearing things too," she added finally, "Nothing specific, just impressions."

That caught my full attention. "What, like animas?"

"You mean your fairy dust?" She shook her head, "I don't think so. It's more like echoes of feelings that aren't mine. I don't think they're mine, anyway. Maybe that's why I'm in this funk."

"You don't look like you're in a funk."

"Too strong a word. Maybe I'm not even down, I'm just not floating quite as high. I'm sure it'll be better when you fuel me up again." She smiled coyly.

"Yeah, that's a regular thing now isn't it?" It wasn't a question, and I squeezed her hand to let her know I wasn't complaining.

"If not I might end up jumping you in public."

I sighed dramatically, "Such a burden."

"Don't be a jerk," she giggled. "Any more thoughts on your vision from last night?"

"Not really," I shrugged, "I'm not sure what it means, or if it means anything at all."

"Maybe it was a psychological construct. The scar might be part of how you see me."

"What?" I turned on her, appalled at the suggestion, "Kath, where would you even get something like that? I never once—"

"Hear me out," she interrupted. "When someone is as close to you as I am, how they see themselves matters, even if you see something different. We talked about my past, and whether you like it or not, it's part of your mental picture. It's not unusual for those things to manifest in dreams."

"It wasn't a dream," I insisted, "I didn't fall asleep. It was as if—as if something was overwriting my perceptions. I mean it was a little dreamlike. Everything seemed familiar, and you were there, but it also wasn't you. Too many differences. But it's still a solid memory, like I lived it."

She waited for me to continue, then shrugged when I came up empty. "Another question for the fairy patrol?"

"I guess so."

We'd just passed the front door for the third time, and she abruptly steered us back toward it.

"I'm done," she said, dragging me back inside, "It's getting too dark and too cold, and it's too soon to see how long I can go without a roll in the sack. I hope you're well rested."

Our second time together was more sensual, more deliberate, and there was no repeat of my earlier vision or any other. She didn't immediately pass out, which gave us more time to explore, to play, and we took full advantage of that well into the night.

I learned something about myself too. In the past, when my mind wandered down those forbidden roads, or when asked outright by well-meaning peers, I always counted myself a "breast man," fairly normal and as cliché as it gets, but the thing that appealed to me most was Katherine's voice. In my limited experience I'd imagined sex accompanied by the uninspired moaning of paid actors, the carnal equivalent of a sitcom's laugh track, but the sincere, pleasurable sighs of a woman on the brink of ecstasy—there's nothing in the world that compares.