Daring Hearts: Fearless Fourteen Boxed Set

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Daring Hearts: Fearless Fourteen Boxed Set Page 135

by Box Set


  “Yeah, I noticed.” I run a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry. I guess I have a bit of a problem with that too. It’s kind of like my first instinct when I’m around you.”

  He looks up, managing half a smile. “I know what you mean.”

  “So, how about we aim for somewhere in the middle?”

  He considers that for a moment. “And ‘the middle’ would entail … fun insults instead of mean ones?”

  I match his half-smile. “We could try that.”

  Zinnia pokes her head around the kitchen door. “If you’ve finished arguing, your cupcakes are waiting for you.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Ryn stands up. “You know, I meant it when I said you need to relax, V. We really do have plenty of time to plan for this assignment.”

  “Fine. You can have tonight off. But the rest of the weekend is for planning.”

  We enter the kitchen to find Calla giggling as she licks the icing off her cupcake. “It tickles,” she says. Which makes sense, given that bright sparkles of color are bouncing and shooting off the cupcakes sitting on the plate in the middle of the table.

  “Calla, do you want my icing?” I ask, grabbing a cupcake from the plate and sitting down. I’m only interested in the cake part.

  “Mm,” Calla says, nodding and handing me a spoon to scrape off the icing.

  “Don’t you like faerie kisses?” Ryn asks, his eyes dancing with some hidden meaning. “You’re missing out, you know.”

  I bite into the cake, closing my eyes as the rich honey flavor melts on my tongue. “Trust me,” I say after chewing and swallowing, “there is nothing I’m missing out on right—”

  My words are cut off by a shuddering clap of thunder. Calla freezes, a spoon of icing halfway to her mouth. She blinks a few times, then whimpers as the light in the room flickers.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Ryn says. “The glow-bugs don’t like thunder, that’s all. They like to go into hibernation mode when they feel the vibrations. It makes them feel safer.”

  “But then I don’t feel safe,” Calla whispers. She jumps off her chair and runs to Ryn’s side of the table, taking her spoon of icing with her. Thunder rumbles again, louder this time, as she climbs onto Ryn’s lap.

  “Let’s play another round,” Ryn says. He reaches for the box of cards, then stops with his hand in the air and looks across the room at his mother. She’s standing in a corner, reading a message on her amber. A crease forms between her eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  She shakes her head. “I missed a message earlier.” She hurries out of the kitchen just as rain begins to patter down in the forest outside. A moment later she’s back in the room, pulling on a pair of boots similar to my own. They lace themselves up as she slings a bag over her shoulder and opens a doorway on a blank part of the wall. “I need to get to the Guild.”

  “What happened?” Ryn asks.

  Zinnia’s eyes dart to Calla, then back to Ryn. “I’m not sure I’m allowed to tell you,” she says. “But you’ll know soon enough.” And with that she disappears into the faerie paths.

  Five

  The storm still rages outside when I wake up on Monday morning. My enchanted skylight gives me a glimpse of lightning flashing every few seconds and wind and rain tearing at leaves. I turn over and grab my amber from next to my bed, mumbling the spell to make it show me the time. I close my eyes and snuggle deeper beneath the bed covers. Ryn and I have read everything there is to know about the Harts, and we’ve planned as much as we can, so I may as well sleep in a little bit. Ryn’s right—I really do need to relax more.

  “Morning, V.”

  My eyelids spring apart, and a glittering knife has formed in my hand before I can even think about it.

  “Whoa, careful, it’s just me.” Ryn is sitting in my desk chair, looking entirely at ease.

  I pull the covers up to my chin, trying to remember what I’m wearing and how much skin it covers. “What are you doing here?” I demand.

  “I felt in need of a laugh and knew the sight of you first thing in the morning would do the trick.”

  “Thanks. I’m flattered. Can you leave now?”

  “Nope.” He leans forward. “I’m actually here to make breakfast.”

  “Breakfast? Is that the burning I can smell coming from downstairs?” To be honest, the only thing I can smell is the vanilla charm I put on my bed covers once a week. But Ryn doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who cooks, so I’m guessing the chances are high he’s about to burn something in my kitchen.

  “Indeed it is. Burnt pancakes especially for you.”

  “And what did I do to deserve burnt pancakes?”

  “It’s in celebration of our final assignment, and because you need to get used to seeing my handsome face first thing in the morning.” He stands up and walks to the door. “Oh, and I thought you might want to know that what’s happening outside isn’t a normal storm. It’s a magical one.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Lightning got inside the Guild.”

  “WHAT?” I sit up so fast it makes me feel dizzy.

  “Yeah, I thought that’d wake you up,” he says, then walks out of the room.

  “Come back!” I yell. I push the bed covers off me and hurry downstairs after Ryn. “You can’t say something like that and then just leave.” I find him in the kitchen, pointing at something in a pan with his stylus. “What happened? Did someone else get hurt?” I think of what happened on Friday night. The incident Zinnia rushed off to deal with.

  The Seer who was murdered inside the Guild.

  “No. There were three witnesses who saw the bolt of lightning enter the library and hit one of the bookshelves, but none of them were close enough to get hurt.”

  I sit down in one of the chairs. “So, are they thinking the storm and the murder are connected?”

  “Yes.” Ryn stands back as a surprisingly non-burnt pancake flips itself. “I mean, it could be one seriously big coincidence, but I doubt it.”

  “And do you know anything new about the murder?”

  He shakes his head. “My mom isn’t saying anything. Anyway, the big question everyone’s asking is who could possibly have enough power to control a storm this big?”

  I look down at my hands as my heart squeezes out a few painfully hard beats. I know someone. Someone who only recently discovered his special talents with the weather.

  Nate.

  As if it were only yesterday, I hear Zell’s voice replaying in my mind. He can’t quite control it yet, but his storms are certainly impressive, don’t you think? Can Nate control it now? Is he the one creating the massive storm currently raging through Creepy Hollow forest? But there’s no way he would murder someone. Never. I might not know everything about him, but I’m sure I know that much.

  “You okay, V?” I look up to find Ryn watching me closely.

  “Yeah, I’m just worried, I guess.”

  Liar, liar.

  “Well, why don’t you put a few more clothes on—” he gestures in the general direction of my exposed legs “—and then we can have breakfast and go kick this assignment’s ass.”

  * * *

  “And don’t forget that when you’re pretending to be human you cannot be seen using magic,” Tora says.

  “Trust me, I’m not about to break that rule again.” I’m sitting on the floor of her office, the contents of my emergency kit spread around me as I do an inventory.

  “Right.” She stops pacing and sits on the edge of her desk, bouncing her leg. “Oh, and did you ever replenish your burn healing potion after your assignment with the draconi?”

  “Right here.” I hold up a jar of clear gel. “Okay, I think all I’m missing are those insta-heal patches for deep cuts, but they’re not really necessary. I’m sure this is the kind of assignment where I’ll have enough magic to heal my own—”

  “I’ll go get some from Uri,” Tora says, jumping up. She’s out of the door before I can tell her not to worry about it. I pack away
all the vials, bottles, jars, and bandages—and the Forget potion I hid in my pocket. I couldn’t have Tora seeing that. I should get rid of it, but it seems a waste to throw away a potion made from such expensive ingredients.

  Tora returns with five round, blue patches in her hand. I pop them into the emergency kit and close it up. I stand and survey my things.

  “Okay,” Tora says, moving to stand beside me. “You’ve got your emergency kit—”

  “Check.”

  “—your potions kit—”

  “Check.”

  “—and some clothes and personal items so you don’t stink by the time you get back.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Check.”

  She shakes her head at the questioning look on my face. “You don’t want to know about the hygiene habits of some of the people I went on assignment with back before I became a mentor.”

  “Well,” I say with a laugh, “I like to be clean, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

  “You’re not the one I’m worried about,” Tora says. “I hope for your sake Ryn feels the same way.”

  “Feels the same way about what?” Ryn asks, stopping in the doorway of Tora’s office.

  “Hygiene,” Tora tells him.

  “Are you ready to go down?” Bran calls from the corridor as he walks past, Asami at his side.

  “Almost,” I call back. “Just resizing.” I hold my emergency kit in my hands and say the words to make it shrink. I repeat them until the kit is the size of a small nut, then do the same with my other two bags. I lift my right foot and click open the hidden compartment in the sole of my boot, then put the three bags inside and close it. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Come on,” Tora says, already at the door. We hurry out of her office to catch up with Bran, Asami and Ryn.

  “Feeling confident, Vi?” Bran asks.

  “I think so,” I say, trying not to sound too confident. I doubt that ever works out well for anyone. “It doesn’t seem that complicated or dangerous. We just have to get some information out of a human.”

  “Well, don’t be fooled. You can’t always tell when spells have been placed on humans.”

  “Yes, I know.” I pat my pockets, trying to rid myself of the feeling that I’ve forgotten something important. I’m being paranoid, of course. I know I’ve packed everything.

  “And we’re allowed to contact you, right?” Asami asks.

  “Yes, but try not to,” Bran says. “On real assignments, guardians obviously remain in contact with the Guild, but since this assignment is a test for you and we want to see how much you can do on your own, contacting anyone will, unfortunately, cost you some points.”

  We reach the stairs and head down toward the main foyer of the Guild. I trail my hand lightly over the vines twisted around the banister, feeling the leaves brush between my fingers. “Bran, do you have anything else to tell us about the murder and the storm?”

  Bran pushes his hands into his pockets. “There’s nothing to say except don’t worry about it. Security has already been increased, the protective enchantments are currently being strengthened, and you have more important things to think about over the next few days.”

  I glance at Ryn to see what he thinks of Bran’s words, but his face is turned away from me. Surely he must be more concerned about this whole thing than I am; his mother is involved in investigating the murder.

  We reach the foyer to find most of our classmates and their mentors already there, some receiving last minute advice, some chatting to their assignment partners, and others simply standing around looking nervous. Dale looks over at us, shakes his head, and mouths something at Ryn that looks like Bad luck, dude. I turn my back on him without waiting to see if Ryn mouths anything back.

  “Okay, trainees. Here it is.” Bran stands on the first step and looks down at us as he waits for silence. “Your big moment. Your final assignment. What happens over the course of the next few days will determine the direction your life takes after graduation.” His eyes move from one trainee to the next. “Remember that you can receive bonus points for completing the assignment and returning safely before Friday, but that doesn’t mean you should rush it.” His gaze stops on Dale. “You’ll likely make a stupid mistake and lose points instead.” He claps his hands together. “So, good luck, and off you go.”

  Noise fills the foyer as trainees and mentors say goodbye and begin writing doorways on walls and the floor.

  “I know you can do this,” Tora says, pulling me into a tight hug. “But remember to be careful.”

  “Always,” I say. “And try not to get struck by magical bolts of lightning while I’m gone.”

  Tora steps back. “Don’t worry about the storm. We’re all going to be—”

  “Oh, for the love of all things Seelie,” Ryn says. He opens a doorway in the air, grabs my arm, and pulls me in after him.

  “Hey! I was still saying goodbye.”

  “No, you were wasting time. Now keep your mind blank; I’m trying to direct the paths.”

  I bite back a retort and try to think of nothing. The darkness melts away, and Ryn and I find ourselves standing in bright sunlight on a perfectly manicured lawn. Looking across the expanse of grass, I see the Harts’ home. It’s far bigger than I expected, and everything seems to be white and glass. White walls and pillars, square angles everywhere, and glass from floor to ceiling in just about every room. A wooden deck stretches across the side of the house, looking out over the garden. Umbrellas and loungers are arranged around a swimming pool with sparkling turquoise water that disappears over one side of the deck. All in all, it seems an obscene amount of space for two people to live in.

  “Flip,” Ryn says. “I thought our mentors said this assignment was boring.”

  “Well, that was probably because we didn’t get to go to Egypt or Thailand or somewhere equally exotic like everyone else in our class.”

  “But they’re probably staying in a shack in Thailand. This looks like it belongs on the cover of a property magazine.”

  I look at him. “What do you know about property magazines?”

  “I read.”

  “While on assignment?”

  “Of course. It gets boring waiting for the bad guys to show up.”

  I shake my head and turn my gaze back to the house. “Okay. Day one: observation. Let’s get inside there and assess the situation.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ryn says. Before I can take a step forward, he pulls me into a doorway in the air, and a second later we’re standing on the deck.

  I shake his hand off my arm. “I wish you’d stop doing that. It would have taken us, what? Fifteen seconds to walk up here? But no, you always have to show off by opening doorways in the air.”

  Ryn leans toward me with a grin and whispers, “Jealous.” He walks past me and through an open sliding door. I take a deep remember-you’re-supposed-to-be-friends-now breath and follow him.

  “Are you glamoured?” I ask. “We don’t want anyone seeing us now.”

  “I should be asking you that,” he says with a glance over his shoulder at me. “Of the two of us, you’re the only one who’s broken that rule.”

  “I did not break that rule,” I say with a huff. “He just happened to be able to see through my glamour.”

  “Speaking of halfling boy,” Ryn says as we walk past a white lounge suite that looks as though no one’s backside has ever graced it, “what’s he up to these days? Heard anything from him since he decided to hand you over to the Unseelie Court?”

  I pick up a strange elephant statue and pretend to examine it. “No comment.”

  We wander through the house, taking our time. Every room is perfect, not a cushion or tall-stemmed flower out of place. Even the art on the walls and the framed black and white family photos are perfectly in line. It’s hard to imagine anyone lives here.

  We come to a circular stairway leading both up and down. Ryn decides to go down, so I follow him. We may as well see everything togethe
r.

  “Ah, looks like we’ve found the fun part of the house,” Ryn says as we enter a room decidedly less tidy than the rooms upstairs. A pool table fills half the room, and squishy grey couches are arranged in the other half. The table between the couches is covered in junk food and DVDs.

  “Hey, Pixie Sticks,” Ryn says. “Look here.” He holds up a long, pink straw, sealed at both ends, and shakes it. “Someone who can’t spell named a candy after you.”

  “Look here.” I grab a DVD off the table. “Someone with no imagination named a movie after you.”

  He stares at the cover. “Dumb and Dumber? Ha! You need to try harder than that, V.”

  I throw the DVD back onto the pile and sigh. “I’m having an off day.” I start climbing the stairs, leaving Ryn to roll a ball across the pool table.

  I follow the smell of bacon and coffee and find the kitchen, a spotless room where every appliance seems to be from a matching set and every surface is free of fingerprints. A young woman in an apron hums quietly to herself as she prepares a meal.

  “A bit late for breakfast, isn’t it?” I say to Ryn as he walks into the kitchen behind me.

  “Not when you don’t have to be at work early in the morning. Man, these guys must have the latest in every kind of human technology.” He leans in to take a closer look at the computer screen on the front of the fridge. “Their TV must be amazing.”

  “You watch television on assignment too?” I demand, putting my hands on my hips.

  “Yeah, you should try it, V. There are some highly addictive series out there.”

  “Ryn! We’re supposed to be protecting humans when we’re on assignment, not hanging out in front of their televisions.”

  “And how about if I’m not on assignment? Can I do it then?” He trails his hand over a marble countertop while watching me. I glare back. The woman continues humming, completely unaware of our presence.

  “Cecelia, please bring the sugar,” a man calls from the next room.

  The woman puts down a fork and hurries over to a cupboard, dodging past Ryn—though of course she’ll have no idea why she decided to do that—on her way. She grabs a pretty glass bowl that already has sugar in it. We follow her into a small dining room where a distinguished-looking man is sitting at a rectangular table reading a newspaper. A mug sits on the table in front of him.

 

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