“Germany?” I’d never been out of the United States.
“Yes. There’s a castle there, Neuschwanstein. It’s quite uncanny how much the white brick, arched windows, and many towers capped in blue resemble my home. Makes me wonder who copied from whom.” She tapped her lip and then continued, “We don’t have schools like you do. Our elders teach us what we need to know.”
“Sort of like being homeschooled,” I said. “How about the realms? What’s with that?”
With a dismissive wave of her hand, she replied, “Humans and Fae didn’t exactly get along when we shared one world.”
“Faeries used to live here? Why’d things change?”
“Some faeries—a lot of them, actually—liked to play tricks on humans. Innocent pranks, really: hiding a set of keys, stealing trinkets, taking the last of the cream.”
“I bet that’s why humans think faeries work for cream,” I interrupted. “But none of those things warrant banishment.” Humans played pranks on each other too, but they weren’t exiled to another realm.
She looked away, sheepishly. “Well, it was probably the stealing of babies and the tainting of human food with victus nutrimens—faerie food—that caused the uproar all those centuries ago. Humans weren’t completely without blame, though. There were those who trapped faeries and did awful experiments on them. That was long before I was born.”
“So our ancestors didn’t get along and totally ruined it for us.” I brought my knees to my chest and rested my chin on my pillow.
She ran a finger over the stitching on my comforter. “Not all Fae are as charming as I, and not all humans are as accepting as you.”
“I suppose.” I stifled a yawn. “What are the guys like in…what’s the name of your home?”
“Sanctus, and the boys are stubborn, egotistical, and can be quite vindictive.” She paused. “Ha! Adorable, gentlemanly, and benevolent I’d like to see.”
I laughed. “I take it you aren’t seeing anyone right now.”
“What?” Her eye snapped to mine. “Right now? Of course I don’t see anyone!”
“Really? I find it hard to believe that a princess isn’t dating anyone.”
“Dating? Oh, no.” She waved her hand from side to side. “Definitely not.”
“The guys in Sanctus can’t be all be bad.” I closed my eyes for a moment.
“You’d think differently if you met a male Fae.” She paused. “You’re tired.”
“It’s been a long day,” I admitted. Then I wondered if I was supposed to offer her my bed. After all, I couldn’t ask a princess to sleep on the floor. I wasn’t even sure if offering up the couch downstairs would be appropriate.
Before I could say anything, though, she stuffed her feet into my boots, snatched the jacket from the closet, and waltzed to the door. “I think I’ll visit the Hammond Castle. I’ve never been. You?”
“No.” I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was almost midnight. “But they’re closed.”
“That’s not a problem.”
“If you say so.” I yawned and crawled under the covers. “Thanks for the bouquet.” I breathed in deeply, savoring the delicious fragrance. “It’s amazing.”
She winked and glided gracefully into the hall as I drifted into a dreamlike state. I walked through green meadows surrounded by beautiful flowering trees. Shades of creamy white and vibrant pink could be seen for miles.
A cold chill brushed the back of my shoulder. Snuggling further under the comforter, the scene in my head switched to a winter wonderland. A sheet of ice coated the branches of the trees and the fragile petals of the flowers. I shivered, breathing in a woodsy scent. Pine, I decided in my fog. I nestled further under my cotton cocoon and fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter 9
Optimistic
My mind was hazy when I woke on Monday. The blankets twisted angrily around my legs as if I had tossed and turned all night.
In Brea’s absence, the spring bouquet on my dresser had developed a coating of frost to mimic the world outside. With my deep purple comforter wrapped around my body, I slid out of bed and examined the flowers. Beneath the crystallized frost on the petals and leaves was a thin layer of ice, and each stem was encased in its own frozen tube. As I marveled at how perfectly preserved in time the irises and daisies were, I noticed a few sprigs of pine mixed in. It was an incredible arrangement.
“Madison!” Dad yelled upstairs, startling me and kicking my butt into gear all at once. A quick glance at the clock let me know my ride would arrive any minute.
I shimmied into a pair of skinny jeans, threw on a navy sweater, and grabbed my backpack. To make sure Dad didn’t notice the frozen bouquet, I closed my bedroom door before jogging downstairs.
“I’ll see you later,” I called to him. I stepped outside as Isaac pulled up next to the curb.
“Did you talk to your parents last night?” I asked as soon as I opened the passenger door.
Isaac waited until I got in to answer. “Yeah. They were sure we did something wrong.”
“Scrying requires a bowl of water and low lighting. How exactly can one mess that up?”
He shrugged and shifted into first. “Once my dad gets something in his head, it’s not worth arguing with him, and I knew he’d want to try himself. Thirty minutes later, he was as perplexed about not seeing her as we were.”
“Are you sure we’d get a reading on Natalie if she was—” I swallowed “—dead?”
“Positive. With how hard we were focusing on finding her, we would have yanked her spirit out of the afterlife.”
I slumped lower in my seat as I tried to convince myself that not being able to see Natalie through divination was a good thing.
We took a detour through the coffee shop’s drive-thru on the way to school. Natalie’s friendly brown eyes stared at us from a missing person’s flyer taped to the glass of the pickup window. Seeing it made me feel like a failure.
Isaac handed me the gingerbread latte and placed his mocha in the Jeep’s cup holder. A couple minutes of silence passed with us wrapped up in our own thoughts. There had to be an explanation for why scrying had failed.
“What about blocking our magic? Did your parents know if that was possible?”
“It is, if you possess the powers, which she doesn’t.”
I took a sip of my latte as I pondered that. “Maybe the person she’s with does.”
He parked in our favorite area of the student parking lot and faced me. “My parents and I discussed that too. If she was kidnapped, then her captor would have to be extremely paranoid to abduct a stranger and feel the need to cast a spell to block her aura from other witches. From what my dad said, they’d have to be powerful too because it requires a complicated potion. And then that brings up the question of why Natalie, who has no magic in her? Why not someone they can siphon off of?”
“Pleasant thought.”
Isaac took my hand and squeezed. “There’s still the possibility that Natalie willingly went with someone who possesses the powers and had him or her make it so we couldn’t use magic to find her.”
“And if she doesn’t want to be found, we can’t help her.” I yanked my backpack from off the Jeep’s floor.
Isaac turned off the engine. “If she doesn’t want to be found, then she doesn’t need our help.”
“Well, if she did run away, it’s shitty of her to put her family and friends through this.”
“True, but I’m starting to think that’s what happened.”
“Which would mean she’s alive.”
He smiled. “There’s my optimist.”
“And if she is, Sarah, Kaylee, Lauren, and I are going to kill her for worrying everyone sick.”
He rolled his eyes but said nothing else on the subject. Josh and Kaylee pulled into a spot a few cars to our left.
Isaac cleared his throat. His gaze flicked from me to Josh’s Mustang. “I wanted to ask you…” He rubbed the back of his head. “The winter dance i
s coming up. Are you interested in going?”
By the way he kept glancing past me toward the Mustang, I got the impression Josh had informed Isaac the winter dance was my favorite. Eggnog, long flowing dresses, guys in suits, mistletoe—I loved everything about it. The posters had been up at school for a week, and since Isaac hadn’t mentioned it, I figured he wasn’t into dances. I still hadn’t decided if I was going to ask him about it or not.
I said a silent thank you to Josh. Out loud, I said, “I’d love to go with you, if you’re asking.”
He cupped my chin in his hand, guiding me closer. “It’s a date, then.” His words were slightly muffled by our brief kiss.
We got out of the Jeep and walked into the school with Josh and Kaylee. The guys left us as soon as we were inside, heading to their first period classes.
In English, I put my purse on the corner of my desk and asked Kaylee, “Are you and Josh going to the dance?”
“Isaac finally asked you?”
“Yep!”
Her eyes lit up with excitement. “It’s about time. I’ve been bugging Josh for days to light a fire under his ass.”
I lowered myself onto the chair. “I’m not sure how I feel about someone having to force my boyfriend into asking me to a dance.”
“Shut up!” Kaylee shoved me. “You know you want to go, and Isaac knew he wanted to take you. The only reason he hesitated is because he can’t dance.”
“Really.” My eyes widened in mock horror. “There’s something Mr. Perfect can’t do?”
“Apparently.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “But Josh let it slip he plans on learning—and fast.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Want to go dress shopping this weekend?”
“Definitely.”
Brea must have decided to check out more than just Hammond Castle, because I hadn’t seen her since Sunday. The flowers in my room remained encased in ice as if awaiting her return. I was dying to ask her how that was even possible.
Dad worked late every day that week, and his absence took its toll on my brother. On Wednesday, to keep Chase from checking out the front window every few minutes for Dad’s pickup truck in the driveway, I insisted he help me make dinner.
Chase grabbed the white pouch of powdered cheese from the counter. “I got an A on my spelling test.”
I stood at the stov,e browning the ground beef for our Hamburger Helper.
“That’s great! Now I know who to go to for help.”
“I’m really good at it,” he assured me.
“I know.” I ruffled his hair. “You don’t have homework, do you?”
“Nope.”
“Good, because Dad will kill me if he found out we played all day instead of getting our schoolwork done.” I dragged the wooden spoon across my throat and feigned dying—head tilted to the side and tongue dangling out of my mouth.
Chase burst out laughing. “No, he won’t!”
Standing on a chair, he helped me add the rest of the ingredients to the skillet. He had just jumped to the floor when the doorbell rang. He raced to get it.
“Don’t open the door until we see who’s there,” I hollered after him.
Chase had his nose pressed against the glass of the side window; subtlety was not on his list of personality traits. Not wanting to be as obvious as him, I glanced through the peephole. All I saw was the back of some guy’s head. I didn’t see a clipboard, but I was sure he was selling something.
I opened the door and pointed to the black-and-white No Soliciting sticker on the glass. “Not interested!”
The guy turned. His dark eyes met mine. “I’m not selling anything.”
“Caden?” He was the last person I expected to see at my house. “Did you hear from Natalie?”
“No.” He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Ben told me the search didn’t go well.”
“That’s an understatement, but there’s still hope she’s alive and hiding in the tropics or someplace exotic.”
He smiled, but it appeared forced.
“If you haven’t heard from Natalie, why are you here?” Then an even better question hit me. “How’d you know where I live?”
“I didn’t. I’m here to see Michael.”
“My dad? He’s at work.”
No sooner were the words out of my mouth when Chase squealed, “Daddy’s home!” and darted out of the house.
“I have an interview with him,” Caden explained.
Dad parked in the driveway and hopped out of his truck. He handed Chase his thermos. “Hey, sport.” When he reached the porch, he said, “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re hiring?” I whispered, thrilled that he’d finally accepted the fact he needed an assistant.
“I took your advice and put up a Help Wanted sign at the hardware store.” He held a hand out to our visitor. “Hi. I’m Michael Riley.”
“Caden. Nice to meet you.” He shook Dad’s hand.
“Come on in,” Dad said as he walked by me.
Smiling, I tucked my hair behind my ear. This was a good thing: We’d already cleared Caden as a suspect in Natalie’s disappearance. Dad wouldn’t have to work so hard. I’d get a break from brother-sitting duties. Life would go back to normal.
I grabbed Caden’s wrist, stopping him from following Dad, and whispered, “Tell him you love the Rolling Stones and he’ll hire you on the spot.” Just then, I caught a whiff of musk and smoke. A familiar tug—the one I got when my powers ached to be used—pulled at my gut just behind my bellybutton.
Yet Caden didn’t give off the same kind of scent that witches did. His was pungent. And although my powers danced to my fingertips, there was no spark of them colliding with his. That had to mean he wasn’t a witch. Plus, I think Isaac and Josh would have noticed if Caden was one of us.
Still, my suspicions about him were back. My nose must have crinkled, because Caden smelled the sleeve of his jacket.
“Shit, I smell like a fire pit,” he commented.
“You do,” I agreed, releasing my hold on him. “Where’d you come from?”
“A friend’s. Is it that bad?”
Chase buried his nose in Caden’s coat. “I don’t smell anything.”
I had forgotten Chase was there. I placed my hands on his shoulders, backing him up a step. “That answers that.” Which left the screaming question of why my heightened senses were kicking in. I couldn’t ask Caden, so as he and Chase watched me, I said, “I have a sensitive nose. Dad’s in the family room.” I indicated with a nod to the doorway behind him.
“Thanks. The Rolling Stones?”
“Yeah,” I said, suddenly sorry I’d told him that. He joined Dad.
“What’s your story?” I whispered to myself as Caden took a seat on the chair. Dad sat on the couch.
The grumble-growl that came from Chase reminded me we were cooking dinner. I looked down at him. “Was that your stomach?”
“I’m starving!” He dragged the last word out as if it had been days and not hours since he’d last eaten.
“Then we better get ourselves some of that scrumptious dinner we made.” With my hands still on his shoulders, I steered him into the kitchen.
I could hear Dad and Caden discussing the work that needed to be done at the doctor’s office.
“You didn’t smell smoke on Caden?” I asked Chase, in case he didn’t know what a fire pit was.
He shook his head. “Nah. His jacket smelled like the dry cleaner’s.”
I placed a plate of Hamburger Helper in front of him and went to peek around the corner into the family room in time to hear Dad ask Caden about his qualifications.
I had a few questions of my own—starting with Who are you really? and What do you know about Natalie’s disappearance?—because even though our scrying ruled him out as the person Natalie was with, I was willing to bet he knew more than he’d let on. I wondered if truth serum existed. But since I didn’t have a hidden library in my room on all things witchy an
d the computer was in the family room with Dad and Caden, researching one was out.
Caden talked about the tools he was familiar with while I fantasized about shining a bright white light into his eyes and demanding the truth. But then again, my interrogation might not have to be so obvious. Maybe a calming spell would relax Caden enough to spill his deepest, darkest secrets.
I recited the first few words of the spell I had memorized a month ago but then stopped. It was an all-or-nothing thing. Once cast, we’d all feel its effects, Dad included, and I didn’t want him to be so relaxed that he went against his better judgment and hired Caden regardless of his credentials. I’d never forgive myself if I cost Dad time and money due to incompetent help. I sighed, flattened myself against the wall so they wouldn’t see me, and listened instead.
Caden seemed to be a jack-of-all-trades. He had experience with hand tools, power tools, painting, plumbing, light electrical work, and supposedly he made a mean firehouse chili cheeseburger. He even managed to work the Rolling Stones into conversation.
“Thanks for coming by,” Dad said at last.
I bolted to the kitchen. “Finished?” I asked Chase to look busy.
Dad joined us as I stuck Chase’s cup into the dishwasher.
“Did he get the job?” Please say no. At least not until I have time to talk to Isaac to find out if I’m overreacting about the smoke smell.
Dad fixed himself a plate as he spoke. “I told him I’d call him once I decided, but he’s qualified, and I need someone who can start right away, so I’ll probably call later this evening and make him an offer.”
The doorbell rang before I could respond.
“Are you expecting someone else?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I told Jerry at the hardware store to go ahead and send over the people he’s worked with before.”
The joys of running a handyman business out of your truck meant no real office, but Dad and Jerry had known each other long enough to have developed a good working relationship. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Jerry even prescreened the applicants.
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