by Smith, Fleur
“You can’t think like that,” Clay said. His voice was soft and full of barely suppressed emotion. “You made the decision that you thought was right at the time.”
“You don’t hate me for it?” Fiona asked quietly, her eyes silently begging for the forgiveness that only Clay and his siblings could give.
“I . . . I don’t know.”
Fiona dropped her head into her hands and Clay’s fingers twitched around mine in response.
“I’m sorry. I wish I could offer more than that, but I can’t yet. I just don’t know how I feel about anything right now. It’s going to take some time to process what you’ve told me. All I know for certain is that I want to know the truth about what was done to Lou,” he seethed. “I had to deal with her nightmares for far too long. They were real memories of actual injuries she sustained during the time she was missing. I know she was hurt when we were young. If it wasn’t by your kind, it must have been the Rain.”
“I cannot be certain who caused her injury, but of one thing I am sure,” Fiona said.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Louise’s magic has been bound. Only a fae or a very powerful mage would have the ability to do that.”
Clay gritted his teeth as he considered the fact that if everything was true, and Fiona had done nothing to contradict herself or prove otherwise, then his father must have had to turn to the enemy to “fix” Louise.
Was that part of the torture she endured? I wondered, but knew voicing the thought would only add to Clay’s emotional torrent. Did she suffer through multiple attempts to bind her abilities?
“Do you have any idea who might have done it?” I asked.
“I am uncertain. There is one I know powerful enough. I sought his assistance in finding my family when Clay and Louise were still young, but I do not believe he would have helped Troy. He hates all humans, but he hates the Rain above any other.”
“What about the help you need now?” I asked to change the subject before Clay’s anger overtook his judgment. “Tell us about that.”
“A little over a year ago, Mackenzie attended her naming ceremony and was assigned a healer role. Her excitement over helping people was palpable. Assigned as her protector, Aiden lead her out to the old refuge on North Brother Island to celebrate. She loved the freedom. Shortly after that, she decided that she wanted to find her father. He”—she looked away, toward the translucent walls—“is a member of another court. I attempted to warn her of the dangers of going alone to find him. However, she refused to listen to me and stole out on her own. No matter how hard I tried to have her watched, or how many guards I assigned to protect her, she was able to lose them and would soon disappear.” She gave a soft, sad sigh. “She is so similar to me in some unfortunate ways.”
Clay leaned forward in the seat. “And the last time she went out she didn’t come back?” he guessed.
Fiona glanced away before nodding once.
“Why do you think the Rain is involved? Maybe she just ran away like you did,” Clay suggested.
“My scouts saw her being forced into a fae cage.” A painful sob ripped from Fiona. “There were too many anti-fae protections around the cage and vehicle; our guards were powerless to stop them or help her. That is why I sought you out. We are in need of an ally who will not be affected by the protections; someone who is willing to go into the Rain to find out where my daughter is being held and rescue her.”
“I understand,” Clay said.
“Will you do it?”
“I will learn the truth about Lou and if that means going back into the Rain, so be it. If I can rescue your daughter in the process, then I will.”
Fiona sagged forward as relief flooded across her face. “I can’t thank you two enough.”
Clay’s gaze moved between Fiona and I. “No, not the two of us,” he said, as if explaining a simple concept to an idiot. “I am not letting Evie anywhere near that place.”
“Not letting me?” I questioned. I twisted my body toward his, meeting his eyes with a clear challenge in mine. “You assume that you have a say in the matter of whether I’m going or not?”
“There’s nothing to have a say in. You’re not going. They hunt your kind for a living, Evie. You’ll get hurt if you go within a mile of that place. I won’t have that on my conscience.”
“So,” I said. There was nothing he was telling me that I didn’t already know. I understood the risks, and they were almost as bad for him. I’d seen the haunted look in his gaze when he’d told me about the things that had happened to him after his family caught up with us in Charlotte. “There’s just as much of a chance of you getting hurt.”
“I can handle it.”
“Meaning that I can’t?” I seethed.
“No, meaning I know you can handle yourself, but I couldn’t cope if you were hurt,” he said.
“And if you never came back? Am I expected to just be fine with that and move on with my life?”
“No, but they know me. My risk is lower.”
“You’re as alienated from them as I am. By walking in there, you’ll be announcing that you’re back in the country and out of mourning. They’re not going to let you simply walk away again after you’re done.”
“It won’t be like that unless my family is there. No one else in the Rain will know that I shouldn’t be there. You heard Eth: it’s all forgiven when I go home. Plus, if I have the pendant, it’ll be easy. No one questions the elite.” He wouldn’t meet my eye as he said it. There was something he wasn’t saying, and it came through as loud as what he had.
“Well, if it’s going to be so easy, there’s no reason for me not to go,” I challenged.
“Evie, please?” he begged.
“Clay, no. I’m coming with you. You can either accept that and work with me, or you can look over your shoulder for me the whole time you’re there.”
“They will kill you if they suspect what you are. It’s not like the airport; they’re not idiots and buffoons. The division here in New York is filled with highly trained soldiers and Assessors.”
“Well, then I guess we better organize a decent disguise.”
“We can arrange something for you,” Fiona said, risking Clay’s ire by going against him to support me. Perhaps she knew, as I did, that two people would have a better chance of rescuing Mackenzie than Clay would on his own. “And you may stay here tonight while you work out a plan if you wish.”
“Thank you,” I said. “We could use a good night’s sleep before we decide what our next step will be.”
I wouldn’t allow Clay another word in the conversation. It was pointless after all. I didn’t want to keep fighting with him but I couldn’t let him walk into danger alone either. Not if I could help in some way. At the mere mention of an overnight stay, the tiredness I’d been staving off seemed to hit me and Clay yawned widely as well.
“I need to call Eth first,” he said.
“You know where the telephones are, Evelyn,” Fiona said. Her whole body seemed overtaken by weariness as she buried her head in her hands.
“If they haven’t moved, I do.”
Clay cast a quick glance at me before laying a hand gently on Fiona’s shoulder. “Try not to worry, I will get her back.”
My heart ached at the gesture, and the expression of pride mixed with unbridled joy that crossed Fiona’s face in the seconds after he’d said the words.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TUGGING AT THE end of my wig, I tried to force it into a more comfortable position on my head. It didn’t feel like it was sitting right, plus it was itching me due to the cut. It was slightly shorter than the one I’d used years earlier and instead of ending over my shoulders, it sat awkwardly against the nape of my neck.
For so long, Clay and I had simply hidden away from society, living on the fringes, rather than trying to blend in. Now that I had to disguise myself again, it was an odd feeling. In Sweden, there had been no need for such deceptions because it had be
en cold enough that knit caps and scarves never seemed out of place. Even before my reunion with Clay, I didn’t try to pass for an ordinary person. Instead, I simply tried to remain as invisible as I could among the masses.
I brushed the hair behind my ears to see if that was more comfortable. When it wasn’t, I tugged at it again to force it into position.
“Stop fiddling with it or you’ll give us away,” Clay hissed. The stress of the impending rescue, and the fact that I had insisted on joining him, was pushing him a tad too far.
“Sorry,” I muttered back, forcing my hands to my side. “I’m not used to it, and the length is so different from my old one.” I brushed my hands across the nape of my neck to move the hair away.
“You’re lucky this is only a dry run,” he said. “If we were anywhere near the Rain, even from a distance, someone would’ve suspected that you were hiding something by now.”
After our discussion with Fiona the night before, Clay had called Ethan to let him know that we were back in America—although he hadn’t mentioned our return was by less than conventional travel methods. Clay wanted to tell Ethan what we’d discovered about their parentage, even though no one could know how Ethan would take the news.
Clay had insisted he come to New York to visit with us as soon as possible, because the news he needed to impart wasn’t the sort of thing you told someone over the phone.
When Ethan had said he was in Boston and could be in New York early the following morning, I decided it would be a good chance to test out my new camouflage. The disguise was by far more elaborate than anything I’d ever attempted before.
Fiona wasn’t lying when she said that she’d assist in making me unrecognizable. Instead of only a wig, contacts, and lipstick, I had been completely made-over. Two pink fairies had spent over an hour working on my look and teaching me the techniques they were using so that I could do it myself when the time came. I’d asked about glamoring, but the process wasn’t temporary, and neither Clay nor I wanted to risk changing who I was permanently, especially when there was no guarantee it would work on me anyway.
The outfit that had been given to me was an orange top of the softest cashmere I’d ever touched. The color made my tanned skin glow as if lit from within. The material was so light and airy that it felt weightless whenever I moved and yet instantly warmed me when I pulled it on. It was what I imagined it would feel like to wear cotton candy.
The top paired nicely with the pair of tan moleskin pants I wore, which conformed perfectly to my body and hugged my legs tight. The outfit was, quite simply, magic. Over the top, I had an off-white trench coat that fell to just below my knees that matched the boots on my feet.
Besides the clothing and the short, layered blonde wig they’d found for me, I had some blue contacts in and the fae had covered my entire face in makeup. Smokey makeup covered my eyes and an almost orange shade of lipstick to match my top slicked my lips. Finally, a multitude of slightly different colored blushes shaped the contours of my cheeks, hiding my usual features and giving the illusion of higher, more defined cheekbones. I was certain that my new appearance was so different that even the facial recognition software used by the Rain wouldn't be able to identify me.
If my camouflage proved good enough to fool his brother, it was likely I could hide in plain sight among the Rain. Even though I was certain we’d both considered it, neither Clay nor I had voiced the concern that Louise was probably the one person who would be able to see straight through any charade I tried. For my part, I was willing to shove her as far from my mind as I could until I learned more about her whereabouts. As far as we knew, she was still convinced that I was dead. We were both happy to keep it that way for as long as we could.
Deliberately late, we headed toward the Starbucks on the corner of 96th and Madison where we were to meet with Ethan. When we turned onto 96th, we lengthened the distance between us, trying to appear as though we weren’t together. By the time we reached the Starbucks, I was a good three minutes ahead of Clay. It was odd forcing the distance between us on the busy street after spending so many months together with no one else around. It was almost enough to send me rushing back to his side. If this hadn’t been the test that decided whether or not I would join him on the mission, I probably would have.
Entering the coffee shop first, I tried to make myself as noticeable as possible as I attempted to casually saunter past an already waiting Ethan. When I approached him, I noticed that the aura circling him was a darker blue and far less pronounced even than Clay’s had been before consuming the enchantments.
For a tiny moment, I even attempted eye contact with Ethan on the way to the counter, if only to give him a sporting chance. I heard something that sounded like an appreciative hum from him, but he didn’t try to engage me in conversation or otherwise attempt to get my attention, so I ignored it. Once I’d passed him without incident, I walked straight up to the cashier and ordered the first thing my eyes landed on; it didn’t matter what because my stomach was so full of enchanted food and drink that there was no way I would be able to force down anything else. Once I’d ordered, I slid along the counter to wait for my drink and watched silently as Ethan greeted Clay when he walked in a few seconds later.
“It’s so good to see you, bro,” Ethan said as he gave Clay a one-armed hug. As he stepped back, he glanced at the empty space around Clay. “But aren’t you missing something?”
I fought the smile that touched my lips at his words; Clay had been so certain that his brother would pick me out immediately. I’d reminded him that I had a little bit of experience blending in—especially in short bursts. That fact, combined with the knowledge that Ethan and I had spent less than a day together in total, was what had given me my confidence and made me decide to wager my attendance at the rescue on Ethan’s recognition.
Clay didn’t think that would matter though. “He never forgets a face,” he’d insisted.
“She’s here,” Clay said, shifting his gaze to me momentarily.
“No fair,” I mouthed, glaring pointedly at him. If he continued to watch me so closely, it was going to be all too evident to Ethan exactly who I was. It was supposed to be up to Ethan to pick me out of the crowd—not for Clay to hand me over on a silver platter. A small, devious smile curled up the corner of Clay’s mouth before his gaze moved away from me.
I tried to set my face into a vacant expression as I waited for the barista to call out the fake name I’d given when I’d ordered my coffee.
“What do you mean?” Ethan asked.
“She’s here, just incognito.”
The barista called out my alias so I grabbed my drink, trying desperately to ignore the itch the at the back of my neck as I did.
Maybe Clay’s right. I clenched my fists as the itch spread along the back of my neck. The small irritation growing by the second as it drew my whole focus. Can I really do this for hours at a time?
After grabbing my drink from the counter, I walked by Ethan and Clay, pretending to have little more than a passing interest in the pair. They were, after all, a pair of rugged, attractive men who stood out like sore thumbs among the throng of well-dressed New Yorkers.
I found a seat at a table by a window where I could watch their subtle reflections in the glass. While I sat nursing my coffee cup, ostensibly watching the world pass by outside, I had one ear trained on the conversation between Clay and Ethan.
“What’s going on?” Ethan asked.
“It’s hard to explain here, but can you please just trust me and run with it for the moment?”
“Okay,” Ethan said, his tone dripping with confusion as he dragged out the syllables. “Hey, is there something different about you?” He appeared to study Clay’s face for a moment.
“No,” Clay said indignantly before looking away. “Now tell me, can you spot Evie?”
I lifted my cup to my lips and pretended to take another sip in order to hide my smile. Being a few minutes walk from the fae stronghold a
nd knowing that Clay was watching over me, I felt safe despite being around so many people. Without the usual danger that I often experienced while out in public, I was actually enjoying this game of subterfuge.
Even as the thought crossed my mind, my worry grew. I chastised myself for being so blasé. Years on the run had trained me to maintain a constant vigilance because, regardless of how safe I might have believed myself to be, danger could be lurking anywhere. Especially when we’d spotted the shadow in Sweden and couldn't be certain whether he would follow us back to New York. The last eight-ish months alone with Clay in our safe little bubble had clearly blunted my natural survival instinct, regardless of how many times we’d run drills.
How could you let yourself slip so easily? Playing games with your safety? What would Dad think of you now?
My frustration over letting my guard down so readily manifested itself in a hundred ways, most of which I couldn’t control. My lips turned down into a frown. My right foot, previously crossed casually over my left leg, now began to bounce. The fingers on my left hand drummed anxiously against the table. My body heat rose in line with my stress level, only adding to my agitation. I placed the coffee cup down onto the table to ensure that I didn’t burn the paper holder or melt the plastic lid.
Now you’re just asking for attention, I chastised myself. You’re going to get yourself caught, and then Clay will have his reason for not taking you with him. You promised him you wouldn’t go if Ethan spotted you. You can’t help him if you’re not there.