by Кирстен Уайт
“Show me what she looks like then!”
Lend’s face shimmered and he shrank a few inches. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. She had short, light blond hair, a pretty face, and a similar build to me, maybe a few years older. She also had eyes such a pale gray that Lend couldn’t get them right. “Same eyes,” he said softly in her voice.
“That’s—I don’t—What is she? Why is she on fire underneath her skin? She’s all bright and glowing, like—” I looked down and pulled up my sleeve. “Like this.” I watched the flames under my skin. “Times a million.”
“‘Liquid flames to hide her grief,’” Lend-as-fire-girl said.
“Well, she’s got the ‘death, death, death,’ part down. There has to be a way out of this.” I pulled out my communicator. If I could get ahold of Raquel, she’d send help. The communicator flashed dully, then displayed that Raquel couldn’t be reached. “I can’t call Fehl. I made her save the werewolves —they’re all sleeping. She hasn’t had enough time to move them.” I couldn’t risk all their lives for my own. That left me with one option; I shook my head, unwilling to face it.
“Isn’t this exciting?” Reth said from behind us. I whipped around. Speak—or rather think—of the devil. He leaned casually against the wall, beaming. “I do love a good reunion.” He looked at Lend and waved, then frowned. “That’s not her.”
“How would you know?” I asked.
“We’ve already met. Lovely girl. Very gracious.”
“You—you let her in!”
“They said to go and see what was happening. They never said not to bring anyone back with me.
And she asked so nicely.”
I shook my head in disbelief and rage. This was what came of thinking you could control faeries.
My best friend had paid the ultimate price. “I’ll kill you for this,” I said, angry tears stinging my eyes.
He sighed. “Really, there’s no need for melodrama. There will be drama enough when she gets through those doors.”
I looked back nervously. I didn’t know what powers she had besides the whole sucking the life straight out of immortals thing, but I didn’t want to find out. “I’ll check the doors again,” I said to
Lend. He nodded, shimmering and switching back from my look-alike into his typical form.
“I remember you,” Reth said. “If Evelyn dies, it will be your fault for interrupting us.”
“Shut up!” I ran up and down the hall, opening all the doors, looking for any way out. “Enough of your stupid riddles.”
“No riddle. But I never finished filling you, and I’m afraid our new friend is a tad impulsive. No telling what she’ll do, and she’s much, much stronger than you. Pity, too. I do so enjoy you, my love. I had high hopes for us.”
I pulled out my knife and stepped right in front of him, holding the point near his throat. “Shut up.
Now. You’re taking Lend and me out of here.”
“I would like nothing more. Unfortunately I cannot touch you, and you cannot go through a faerie door if you aren’t touching me. You see, I have a very binding order from IPCA, and I simply cannot break it.”
I closed my eyes, shaking my head. There had to be another way. I wouldn’t use his name again. It was too dangerous.
“Evie!” Lend called, his voice sharp with panic. I looked over—the door was starting to glow red in the middle, superheated. She was coming through.
“Crap, crap, crap.” We were going to die. I looked back up at Reth.
He was watching me, an eyebrow raised and his golden eyes shining. “I’m afraid you haven’t much time, love.”
“Fine! Fine! Lend, take his hand.” Lend ran over and took hold of one of Reth’s hands, clearly unhappy about it.
Reth’s face was a portrait of triumph. I remembered his words—he’d enjoy it when I begged him to touch me. He had been right. I looked back; I could see the imprint of her hand now, pushing through the warped metal. The door was curling open.
“Take away IPCA’s order,” Reth whispered, hungry and impatient.
I closed my eyes, forcing down the fear and nausea. “Lorethan, ignore what IPCA told you. Touch me.” I almost choked on the words. “Get us out of here. To Lend’s home,” I added quickly, not wanting to end up in Reth’s realm again. He laughed, his voice silver and ringing. He reached out and wrapped his hand around my wrist—the wrist he had already filled with fire—and pulled us both into the darkness. I heard a woman’s voice yell something, and then there was nothing but the vast silence of the Faerie Paths.
The burning started immediately. It raced up my arm and I whimpered, trying not to scream out in pain as I stumbled along blindly. I fought it as best I could, but the fire inside me called out, excited at the prospect of more. “Stop,” I whispered. “Please, stop.”
“Evelyn,” he answered, his voice a caress against the pain.
I saw a hint of light beyond my eyelids, and opened them as the three of us walked out of the darkness and into a forest bathed in the dim twilight. “Let go.” I broke into tears as I sank to my knees, Reth’s hand still around my wrist and the flames dancing their searing pain up and down my arm.
“Let her go!” Lend shouted, and I felt Reth get knocked to the side as Lend attacked him.
“You are meddlesome, aren’t you?” He let go of my wrist. I collapsed onto the ground, dropping my knife and gasping as the pain dulled, the heat settling once again in my wrist and heart. There was more inside me now. I pushed myself onto my hands and knees. Reth seemed so bright against the dim light.
He leaned down, cupping my face in his slender hands. This time there was no burning, just the warmth I used to crave so desperately. I still craved it. “If you let me finish, I can tell you everything. No more questions. No more searching. You can be with me then.”
The flames inside pulled, drawing me closer to Reth. His heart glowed beneath his shirt, answering mine. It would be so easy, so safe. I’d be done. I looked into Reth’s amber eyes and opened my mouth to agree.
Lend coughed and I tore my eyes away. He was getting up from the ground several feet away. Reth must have thrown him. “Are you okay?” I asked, jerking away from Reth’s hand and its seductive warmth.
Reth sighed. “Evelyn, you are so difficult.”
I turned my back on him, walking to Lend. “Are you okay?” He nodded. “Good.” I needed to do something about Reth, now. I turned around but he was right next to me. “Lor—”
Before I could finish his name he was behind Lend, my silver knife pressed against Lend’s throat. “I think you should be very careful what you say now,” Reth said with a playful smile. “I find myself weary of taking commands. But I do have one last thing I’d like you to tell me to do. Oh, no, don’t say a word.” He shook his head when I opened my mouth. Lend’s eyes were wide with fear. “One slip and I’m afraid you’ll be responsible for the death of yet another friend. I’m going to tell you exactly what to say, and then you can repeat it.”
I nodded dumbly, ignoring the small shake of his head Lend gave me. I couldn’t lose him. Not tonight, not after Lish.
“Excellent. I want you to command me to change my name.”
“I—Can I even do that?”
“I cannot refuse a named command. So if you please, tell me to change my name.”
I had played perfectly into his hands and was giving him exactly what he wanted. Just how much of this had he known would happen? As usual, we were all stumbling around in the dark while the faeries perched above us, seeing patterns and pathways we would never realize were there until it was too late. “Lorethan.” I willed my mouth to make the words. “Change your name.” It came out a whisper, but it was enough.
His face broke into a blissful smile. He looked truly beautiful in that moment, and I remembered why I once thought faeries were angels. Surely nothing so perfect deserved to be on this earth. He spun Lend out and away from himself, closing the distance between us in one step. Putting his arms
around my waist, he leaned in, his mouth almost touching my ear. “Thank you. Such power in a name—someday I’ll tell you yours. And now I’m afraid I’ve got a lot of business to attend to. So many people to visit, so many favors to repay. Until we next meet, my love.” He backed up a step.
The air shimmered around him and he disappeared into it.
The evening suddenly felt cold, the wooded grove dark and empty in his absence. “What have I done?” I whispered, horrified.
GROUNDED
M y mind refused to wrap around the truth. I had freed Reth. The potential ramifications of that were overwhelming. I couldn’t think about them right now—I couldn’t think about anything right now. Lend got up from the ground.
I rushed over to him. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I screwed everything up. I screwed it all up.” I started crying again.
Lend wrapped me up in a hug. “You didn’t. If it wasn’t for you I’d be dead.”
I let my head rest against his shoulder. He was so warm; a wholesome, comforting warm, not like
Reth’s. I needed to be in someone’s arms. We had gotten away, we were safe for now, and it hit me hard. The mixture of grief for Lish and relief that I had escaped and saved Lend was overwhelming.
After a few minutes Lend pulled back. “You’re shaking. It’s freezing out here.” He looked around.
“I think I know where we are. Good call telling Reth to bring us to my home.” I was sure I hadn’t made any good decisions with Reth, ever, but at least we had a chance now. Lend took my hand.
“This way.”
I took a step and gasped. I had forgotten about my leg; the cut in my thigh from Lish’s aquarium glass hurt now that all the adrenaline had worn off. I put my hand down, then looked at it in the fading light.
“What’s that? Are you bleeding?”
“I cut my leg in—when Lish was—” Trying to hold back the tears, I stopped.
“Can you walk? It’s not far.”
“I think so.”
Lend let go of my hand, putting his arm around my waist instead. We walked through the trees, the final remnants of day snuffing out and leaving the pale light of the full moon. After a few minutes, my leg stinging and throbbing, I saw lights through the trees.
“There it is!” He sounded excited and anxious. I wondered what kind of place Lend lived in. I always pictured something like the Center, filled with paranormals. When we got close enough to see
I was shocked. It was a normal, beautiful two-story white house, complete with wraparound porch. I hadn’t been inside a real house in eight years. Lend opened the door. “Dad? Dad!”
“Lend?” A man rushed down the stairs right by the front door. He was good-looking for an older guy, maybe in his late forties, with dark hair and dark eyes—obviously who Lend had patterned his favorite face from. “Where have you been?”
“I—It’s a long story. She’s hurt. Can you look at her leg?”
Lend’s dad—he had a dad, and it filled me with a sense of almost bitterness—noticed me for the first time. “Of course, but you’re going to tell me everything while I do. You are in deep, deep trouble.” Contradicting this statement, Lend’s dad caught him up in a big hug, practically lifting him off the ground. Lend had to let go of me, and I felt uncomfortable watching their reunion. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”
Lend laughed, a dry exhalation of air. “I don’t plan on it. Her leg?”
His dad turned to me. “Where are you hurt?”
It was all too much, too strange. Lend in this setting, this welcoming, warm home, Lend with this completely normal man who was his dad. No glamour at all, nothing beneath his kind face. It felt like I had entered another world; I knew I didn’t belong and that the Lend who lived here could never be mine.
“Is it that bad?” he asked, his face growing even more concerned as he looked at my expression.
I shook my head hastily. “No—I—my right thigh.”
“We’ve kind of been through a lot tonight,” Lend said gently.
His dad knelt on the wood floor next to my leg. “I’m just going to take a look, see how bad it is.”
He pulled my leggings out, stretching the slit more. “Okay, not too bad. I’ll go upstairs and get my kit. It needs to be cleaned and then I’ll give you a couple of stitches, no big deal.” He smiled reassuringly at me. Then he gave Lend another stern look. “Get her some dry clothes, and be ready to explain everything.”
“Don’t worry—he’s done tons of stitches.” Lend smiled and followed his dad upstairs. I stood there in the entryway, feeling like an intruder until Lend came back. He handed me a bundle of clothes.
“They’re mine so they’ll be a little bit big, but they should be okay.”
I frowned as I took them. “Why do you have clothes?” He could just make them with his various glamours, after all.
“I usually wear them, believe it or not. Most of the time I don’t need to change form; I wear this face almost all the time.”
That made sense. After all, his glamour clothes looked perfect but had a strange texture. In public it would be better to wear things that felt normal. He showed me to a small bathroom, and I locked the door.
I pulled off my boots—my stupid pink boots that would forever remind me of the horrible burning girl now—then took off my tank. I didn’t want to see it, but my wrist was like a beacon, burning even in the well-lit bathroom. It was brighter than ever. I didn’t look at my chest, yanking Lend’s soft T-shirt on so I wouldn’t have to. Then I peeled off my leggings, mopping up the blood that had dripped down the side of my leg as best I could.
I tried not to get blood on Lend’s drawstring shorts as I pulled them on. Then, to my horror, I realized I hadn’t bothered shaving that day. Not only were my legs brilliant white and too skinny, they were also prickly.
The fact that I was worried about what Lend would think of my legs struck me as the most ludicrous thing imaginable. I had just lost my best friend, barely escaped having my life sucked out by a psychotic burning girl, committed treason, and nearly gotten the guy I liked killed by a crazy faerie.
What were hairy legs compared to that? I started laughing and then crying, doing both in an awkward, gasping mess that made my head hurt.
Lend knocked on the door. “Are you okay?”
Taking a deep breath, I tried to stop. I opened the door, holding up the shorts on the side where I was cut. “Yeah.” I sniffled but held back from full-on sobbing again.
“He’ll do it in here.” Lend put his arm around my shoulders and led me into a well-lit kitchen, painted in warm yellow. I sat in a chair and his dad knelt next to it, cleaning my leg with a warm cloth.
“I’m David, by the way.”
“Evie,” I answered. After he finished wiping away the blood, he put something on the wound that stung. I drew in my breath sharply.
“Sorry about that. Don’t want it to get infected. Now you’ll feel a couple of small pricks; I’m just numbing the area for the stitches.” I tried not to flinch, focused on holding still and not shivering.
“Where have you been?” he asked, and I looked up, wondering why he was asking me.
Lend answered. “It’s kind of a long story.”
“Talk.” His dad was still working on my leg but his face was set.
Lend sighed. “I broke into IPCA’s Center.”
Stopping mid-stitch, David looked up, horrified. “You what?”
I was confused, too. Lend always made it sound like he had been sent there.
“I had to!”
“I—” David took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and shook his head. “You had better wait until I’m done, then.” He went back to the stitches, finished, and taped a gauze pad over the top. He stood up and put away his supplies, then folded his arms and glared at Lend. “Now, start from the beginning and tell me the whole story, clear up until the end where I ground you for the rest of your life.”
Lend hung his head. “I hea
rd—I listened in to your meeting, when you said that the answer was with IPCA, in the Center. And I knew no one else could do it. I thought I could. So I went to a graveyard and put on a zombie body, shambled around. It took a couple of nights, but an operative finally showed up. So I, well, I hit her.” He looked ashamed at that admission. “Then I called for pickup. When the faerie came I walked through with her. I got to the Center and ran into the director.”
“Raquel?” David asked, and I looked at him, surprised. How did he know her?
Lend nodded. “I took her communicator and face, then found her office. I was searching for information when—when I got caught.”
David’s eyes went wide and he looked down at Lend’s bare ankle. “How did you get out?”
Lend smiled at me. “Evie got me out. Of course, she’s also the one who caught me. She can see me —the real me, all the time.”
His dad looked at me, wonder and fear in his eyes. “You’re IPCA?”
I shook my head. I wasn’t anything. There was nowhere in the world I belonged now. My home was gone, my best friend was dead, and I could never go back to Raquel after what I had done. I bit my lip, holding back the tears. “Not anymore. After tonight, I don’t think there’s even going to be an IPCA.”
“Well, from one former employee to another, I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
MY FIRST SLEEPOVER
S itting in Lend’s warm kitchen, I couldn’t believe what his dad had just said. “You were—You worked there?” IPCA was kind of a lifetime thing.
“Actually, I was APCA. I got out about a decade before IPCA was formalized. Didn’t think I’d ever see the day that would happen. None of the countries was willing to work with any of the others on paranormal issues. I never did find out what triggered the change.”
I swung my foot awkwardly against the floor.
“You’re looking at her,” Lend said, grinning.
David raised his eyebrows. “Really? Wait, Lend, you haven’t finished your story, don’t think I’m going to forget.”
Lend sighed. “It’s actually more Evie’s story than mine, considering all I did was sit in an empty white cell. I didn’t tell them anything, so they wouldn’t let me go. Then their tagged paranormals started getting hit, and they finally picked up on this thing. Evie had a run-in with it, and—”