Shadow (Touched by the Fae Book 2)

by Jessica Lynch

  Together, we can put the asylum behind us. We can pretend that there’s nothing wrong with us.

  In the abandoned Wilkes House, we can be as free as two fae-touched humans can be.

  12

  At the end of our fourth day together, when Carolina is getting ready to head out for the night, she starts to apologize.

  I barely pay attention to it. Honestly, that’s nothing new. She has a tendency to “sorry” everything to death. I’ve gotten used to it.

  I let it roll off my back, brushing the crumbs of my dinner from my lap before I stand up. I always walk her to the back door so that I can lock it behind her, then make myself a nest of the blanket and pillow she brought for me.

  I don’t mind the alone time. It’s almost like light’s out at the asylum all over again. No television. No books. Just me and the shadows.

  Nowadays, though, when I say shadows, I mean that.

  Literally.

  I haven’t told Carolina because I don’t want her getting her hopes up, but I’ve been practicing with pulling the shadows toward me. I haven’t gotten the nerve to try shade-walking again—and, thank God, I haven’t made any nighttime trips while I was sleeping—and I still don’t know how to consciously conjure a shadow thick enough for it to pass as a blanket.

  I’m making some progress, though.

  Hey. I’m the Shadow. I might as well figure out what that means since, apart from the limited lines scrawled on Carolina’s paper, no one has been able to tell me what I’m supposed to do about it.

  Seems as if I’m gonna have more time to sit around and practice by myself when Carolina nervously clears her throat and makes an announcement.

  “So, um, I should probably tell you. I’m not going to be able to come back for a couple of days.”

  Okay. Now that’s different.

  If Carolina thought she could get away with it, I’m sure she’d find a way to spend every waking second with me, pushing me toward coming up with a plan to defeat the Fae Queen. Between me losing my shit if she tried and her parents calling her every night to make sure she was on her way home, she can’t, but she makes up for it by spending all day here with me inside the Wilkes House.

  “My parents are taking me out to our family’s lake house for a long weekend to see if it helps to get out of the city,” she adds, overcompensating by over-explaining. Like usual. “My dad’s worried about all the time I’ve been spending out of the house and my mom is convinced that, with the right remedy, they can fix me. I tried to tell them no, but they weren’t having it. I’ve got to go.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “I’d rather stay here.” I’m sure she would. She nibbles on her bottom lip, ducking her chin. “I don’t like leaving you here alone.”

  “Hey, I promise, it’s gonna be okay. Don’t look so sad, Lina. I’m a big girl,” I tell her, trying to say it with a teasing tone so that she doesn’t think I’m being ungrateful. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’ll be fine for a couple of days.”

  “I know you will. Just in case, though, I got a couple of things for you that I thought might come in handy.”

  She disappears into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with a shopping bag. “Here.”

  There’s a baseball cap tucked inside. I can use that to cover my ears. Smart. Two boxes of dye. And a pair of oversized sunglasses.

  Look at her. She’s given me a DIY disguise kit.

  “In case you want to leave the house,” she says, confirming my guess. “It’s been a while since they’ve posted any updates about you on the news, but my mom keeps in touch with my psychologists at the facility. They haven’t given up on you yet. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to color your hair—I got brown and red ‘cause both will cover up the white-blonde pretty easy. The hat will cover it up, too, if you don’t want to go that far.”

  I was thinking the same thing. “Thanks. This is a big help.”

  I mean it, too. I’m so over sitting inside of the abandoned house. Even if it’s just walking around Acorn Falls, it’s better than hiding in the dark.

  Carolina reaches into her back pocket, pulling out a clear plastic sandwich baggie full of money. “This is for you, too. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone for and you might have to get some stuff while I’m out.”

  “I can’t take that from you.”

  “It’s the least I can do, Riley. Trust me. Don’t spend it if you don’t want to, but I’ll feel better knowing you have it.”

  “Okay. Sure.” I hold out my hand. She drops the baggie into the cup of my palm. After the close call that first night, there hasn’t been a single accidental touch over the last few days. I disappear it into the front pocket of my hoodie. “For emergencies.”

  She hesitates. I can tell there’s more on her mind than just her upcoming trip. I’m proven right a second later when she adds, “You know… you don’t have to stay here by yourself. You can come with me. My parents won’t care. The lake house is nice. You’ll be hidden and safe there.”

  Not this again. I have to say no. She knows it, too. Doesn’t stop her from asking.

  And, okay, it’s a nice gesture—it’s just a totally empty one. We’ve never talked about it explicitly ‘cause of the whole ‘Carolina doesn’t talk about herself’ thing, but it’s obvious that her family is pretty well-off. I mean, they’ve got a freaking lake house. Of course they have money.

  They’re also super overprotective of her. How much do I want to bet they’ll flip out if they learn that Carolina isn’t going to out-patient therapy during the day? That she’s spending all of her free time squatting inside the Wilkes House with Riley Thorne, Black Pine escapee?

  I can’t pretend they don’t have a television or read the news. My face was plastered on every news channel, paper, and website. The second they figured out who I was, I’d be on my way back to Black Pine and hell if I’m ever stepping foot in there now that I know that it’s a place where the fae stick humans to forget about them.

  Then there’s Carolina’s fae. The Dark Fae female has absolute control over her, and she’s holding Lina’s freedom over her head like a carrot on a stick. I know that’s why my new friend is so eager to keep me happy. Her fae wants to see the Shadow Prophecy play out and, so long as I’m the halfling Shadow they’re focusing on, Carolina will do anything she can to get me to face off against the Fae Queen.

  Once Melisandre is gone, Carolina doesn’t have to rely on her fae for faerie food; the geas she’s under disappears under the contract she made. She won’t ever be able to eat real stuff again, but she also won’t have to beg her fae for a bite to stay alive.

  Until then, she might want to stay on my good side. She has no choice except to do what her fae requires her to.

  It’s something else I’ve been thinking about when I’m by myself. I like Carolina, she’s been good to me, and I’ve even gotten into the habit of calling her Lina. We get along, both of us bonded by the shitty hand life dealt us when we got involved with the fae.

  Even so, I’m not that naive. Sure, she might mean it when she insists she wants to be my right hand man—and she does, because my lie detector tingle hasn’t gone off once these last few days—but if her fae changes her mind and asks for something else, she’ll do it. I accept that. Carolina could hand me over in a heartbeat if her fae decides I’m taking too damn long.

  It’s better that I stay here.

  I shake my head.

  She sighs. “That’s what I figured.”

  “Sorry.”

  Oof. The shocker there is that I actually kind of mean that. I’m wary of my new friend. Still, I don’t like to disappoint her, especially since she’s suffering way more than I am.

  Her lips twitch, like she’s trying to force a half-hearted grin. “Don’t be. It was a longshot, but I had to ask. Since I’m gonna leave you by yourself, I’ve got something else for you.”

  This baggie comes from her front pocket. It’s way smaller than the one filled with cash, t
oo. Carolina tips it over, letting something drop in her open palm. Once she has it, she slips her finger through the loop, lifting her hand high so that I can see what she has.

  It’s a necklace.

  A weirdo necklace, too. The chain is made of some kind of dark brown rope, thin, like leather sinew or something like that. Hanging at the bottom of the string, there’s something metallic that’s been wrapped in knots, creating a strange-looking charm.

  I peer closer. It’s gun-metal gray, long and pointy.

  What the—

  “Is that a nail?”

  She twists her wrist, sending the necklace twirling. My sight is good enough to pick up the stray moonlight filtering in through the window dancing softly against the dark metal. Yeah. I’m pretty sure that it’s a nail. Good thing that the point on the end looks like someone blunted it.

  I could just see myself poking out my eye with it by accident.

  “Wear this, okay?” Carolina says, holding the necklace out. She waits for me to offer her my palm again before she lets it land against the leather of my glove.

  So, uh, the necklace weighs more than I expected. My hand dips and I feel my stomach tighten.

  Not a normal nail then, is it?

  I slip it on over my head because she’s expecting me to—and because I can’t come up with a good reason not to. The weight of the necklace is a little bit uncomfortable. Instead of leaving it on the outside of my hoodie, I tuck it under the material, letting it settle between my boobs.

  Better.

  “It’s an iron nail. Pure iron.”

  Well, that explains it. Iron is one of the fae’s only weaknesses. Because I’m only part fae—the ear part, at least—it makes me feel a little off. That’s it, though. Just like I can lie when I’m not under the influence of Nine’s magic, I can handle iron without any problem.

  “In case one of the Cursed Ones comes after you, the iron nail might buy you some time to get away. The more iron, the better, I’m sure you know that already. I mean, with enough iron, you can really hurt them—maybe even kill them.”

  The chain seems to hang even heavier. “Are you saying I could use this nail to kill Nine?”

  She says Cursed One, I think of Nine. It’s a knee-jerk reaction. So is my horrified expression at just the idea of hurting him.

  The rest of the fae can go scratch themselves. Not Nine, though.

  Never my Shadow Man.

  Carolina frowns. “Not kill, no. It would hurt him. He might not even heal properly. It would take a lot more iron than that to finish him. I didn’t know you were going after him, Riley. Isn’t the Shadow supposed to kill the Fae Queen?”

  Like I need the reminder. Because of the stupid Shadow Prophecy, the Fae Queen has made it clear to her Court, her guard, and her soldiers that it’s either her head or mine. Both Rys and Nine admitted that to me.

  That’s why I asked her. She’s the one who first said kill, not me. I swear, it’s like everyone is homicidal. I don’t care what any of them say. The prophecy Carolina showed me doesn’t mention anything about having to off anyone.

  The Shadow ends the Fae Queen’s rule. It doesn’t say how.

  I cling to that.

  I’m not a killer.

  I’m not.

  And I won’t let them make me one.

  But I am a liar. “Yeah. I just wanted to make sure that I don’t accidentally hurt someone else along the way. I hate the fae”—well, except for one—“but that doesn’t mean I want them to drop dead at my feet.”

  Carolina’s brow furrowed. “A scrap of iron isn’t powerful enough for that. You’d need a Brinkburn for that. And good luck finding one of those.”

  “A what?” I’ve never heard that word before.

  “It’s nothing. A rumor I heard one of the times I was in Faerie. I’m not even sure it’s real which is why I never brought it up before. Anyway, that’s not the point of the nail.”

  Carolina reaches beneath her blouse, pulling out a nail on a string just like mine. Her nail has red stains along the sides. My first thought—is that blood?—is quickly squashed when I realize it’s got to be rust.

  Whoa. How long has she been wearing hers?

  She shows it to me, then tucks it back under her shirt. “It something, right? The iron won’t keep the fae off your trail forever. It does make them have to work a little harder to find you. And, like I said, it might hold them off for a bit if you get to use it.”

  She’s sold me. I’ll wear the nail. She’s right—at least it’s something.

  “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Promise me you’ll wear the necklace. That you won’t take it off no matter what.”

  Again with the promises. Hey, if it makes her feel better...

  “Yeah.” I place my hand over the lump in my hoodie. You know what? I actually feel comforted by the scrap of iron. “I will.”

  I miss Nine like an ache deep in my gut. Without Carolina as a distraction, it only gets worse.

  So it’s not just the power of the iron that makes my stomach feel funny. Truth is, I haven’t felt right in days. I thought it would get better as time went by.

  Nope.

  I dream of him. Jeez, I sound like a lovesick idiot for allowing him to affect me that deeply, but it’s true. I don’t go anywhere while I’m sleeping, probably because I’ve purposely avoided the whole idea of shade-walking since I decided to keep that little gift a secret from Carolina. I fall asleep in my nest of blankets and shadows as soon as I’m sure I’m alone, then wake up in the same spot shortly before Carolina’s knocking softly at the back door.

  My head is full of visions of Nine. While I sleep, I see him doing all sorts of mundane things. For some reason, he always seems to be out in the fantastical Faerie realm on his own. I get the feeling that he’s searching for something. But what?

  No idea.

  There’s no sound in my dreams. Only pictures. That’s all I need really. Nine is so stinking gorgeous, from his sharp cheekbones to his shoulder-length hair and the shadowy duster that hugs his slender body. He moves with purpose, an obvious air of determination following behind him as he keeps on going, oblivious that some part of me is there.

  It takes until the third night of me having the same sort of dream before I realize what’s so different about this Nine. My whole life, the Shadow Man was a haughty, emotionless specter who haunted my nights and served as both my mentor and my only family. He was the only one who never abandoned me—well, until I was fifteen and Rys’s fire burned away the tie the existed between Nine and me. Still, he was the only constant in my life.

  He was always the same.

  Until he finally found me at the Black Pine facility. Everything changed then, Nine most of all.

  Sure, his hair was longer than it had been when I was a kid, and he seemed to carry a weight on his shoulders that never existed before; back then, Nine was absolutely untouchable. He was also this impassive, detached person who was more of a teacher than a friend.

  The Nine who appeared in my room at Black Pine and helped me shade-walk right out of the asylum seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve. He might have started to watch over me because he entered into a bargain with my mom over twenty years ago. Now that I’ve come of age, I don’t think that’s the reason why he’s still watching me.

  He’s attracted to me. It might’ve been a while since I had a guy looking at me the way he does, but Nine is into me—but he’s stubborn enough not to want to act on it.

  I get it. I do. There’s the whole power imbalance to think about. Nine is an immortal Dark Fae who hasn’t aged a day in the twenty years I’ve known him. He’s known me since I was just out of diapers. He’s watched me grow, teaching me and shaping me into the person I’ve become.

  Who taught me the fae weren’t to be trusted?

  Who pounded the refrain into my skull about touch magic so deeply that I developed anxiety and haphephobia over it?

  Who was always there for
me? Praising me when I did well, and showing his disappointment when I failed him?

  Who was the only one who cared for me? Who did it all because I needed to know the truth about the fae if, as the Shadow, I had any chance of surviving until I came of age?

  I might have ended up a damaged, wary halfling in the human world who has massive panic attacks when anyone tries to touch me, but I’m still freaking alive.

  And I owe it all to Nine.

  Is it any wonder why I spent my whole childhood and awkward teenage years crushing on him? He was my Shadow Man, my knight in a long, dark coat, the only person who was there for me. I always loved him, even when I hated him for leaving me after Madelaine died, and those same complicated emotions returned almost immediately after Nine reappeared in my life for the first time in six years.

  After that night in the sewer, when I let him touch me and then I all but begged him to do it again, those feelings have only gotten more twisted and confusing.

  I love him. I want to see him again.

  I want him to touch me.

  And, most of all, I wish I didn’t.

  It’s like an addiction. Once I got past Nine actually physically touching me, all I remember is how good it felt. Instead of making me feel like I’m out of control, that I have no choice, his magic calmed me, soothed me, made me feel special.

  It made me feel loved.

  That’s pretty heady to someone who’s been abandoned, left behind, and tossed around her entire life. When I was a kid, Nine was the only one I could count on. The only one who was always there for me.

  Now?

  Now I want more from him. I want more than he’s willing to give me and that… that is the main reason why I force myself to keep from calling for him. When I promised Carolina that first night that I wouldn’t invite Nine in, I knew right away that it was a lie. I couldn’t go that long without seeing him.

  I just needed the sting of his rejection to fade a little before I went back for seconds. His touch will wipe away the soul-crushing loneliness, the pressure of not knowing what my next move is gonna be, and the cocktail of fear and paranoia that, the moment I walk out of the Wilkes House again, the Fae Queen will appear and try to murder me before I get the chance to end her.